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enchanting-eloquence · 2 years

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Competition part 1 (Jake Seresin)

Summary: A trip to visit your boyfriend on base turns into a competition when you realise you weren't the only couple with ideas of hot reunion sex.

4.3k words of pure smut (one day I'll learn to write short!)

Author notes: Thank you so much for reading! All comments, likes or shares would be massively well received, thank you! ❤️ This also hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for any mistakes!

Warnings: Porn with a hint of plot, minors do not engage and move it along! Voyeurism, overstimulation, bad language, unprotected sex (be safe kids!), fingering, oral (f receiving), m/f sex. Tell me if I've missed anything.

Competition - part 1

Part 2

Family day at the country’s most prestigious military academy wasn’t something you’d ever considered having to attend, let alone dress for. But now here you stood, on Jake’s third visit to Top Gun, shifting from one foot to the other as you regretted wearing such a pretty sundress to somewhere that apparently was five degrees cooler than anywhere else on the island.

You’d seen the outside of the building before of course, dropping Jake off when he’d been called up just a few weeks before. But to go inside was something else and you couldn’t help but be impressed by the many photos on display of planes soaring through the air at gravity defying angles as you signed in and moved through to join a larger group of people in a vast hall.

On the wall beside you was a large plaque filled with names of every pilot ever to be called up. You scanned the list until you saw the one you were looking for not once but three times, and a rose of pride bloomed in your chest. It was one thing for your boyfriend to tell you he was the best, another to see the evidence for yourself.

The doors opposite opened and a stream of uniformed people began to enter the room. You recognised some from social occasions, and met their eyes with a smile. But your grin was reserved for only one of them, and as Jake strode through the door - hands in pockets and wooden toothpick in mouth - and looked directly at you, you felt both your heart and your womb flip. You saw his eyes take you in; and saw the way his jaw tightened in response to the v-neckline of your dress as he walked to you and plucked the toothpick out of his mouth before dipping you into a kiss that was just showy enough to let everyone know they were meant to look. Even as you rolled your eyes, you kissed him back, grateful for the feel of his mouth on yours after three long weeks apart and barely wanting to let go when he pulled you back up and nuzzled his nose briefly to yours.

With a loud cough, two uniformed older men stepped into the room and one by one each of the pilots stopped what they were doing and stood to attention as the taller and broader of the two - Admiral Simpson - welcomed you all and explained the plan for the day, offering a free hour before lunch would be served.

Immediately, Jake’s hand went to the small of your back as he began to nudge you forwards. When you looked inquisitively at him, he only hissed. “Need you alone,” his eyes flashing in a way that had you following keenly behind him through the maze of corridors and through a door numbered 24.

As soon as it was closed your back was up against the smooth wood, his lips hot and firm on yours and his hands pressing roughly against your hips. You basked in the sharpness of strong coffee and the tang of mint on his breath, and inhaled the warm smell of cedarwood and spice as you allowed his lips to assault yours, allowed yourself to be taken in the way Jake always liked to do after he’d been away for a while.

“Need you,” he murmured, pulling away to let his hands frame your face before moving back in to force his tongue between your lips. Slowly his hands moved down, trailing a line along your throat and over your shoulder blades, across the sensitive tops of your breasts and down into the valley between.

“Missed these tits,” he whispered. “Wanted them in my mouth the second I saw you in that dress.” And then his mouth was following his finger, hand grasping at your back to pull down the zipper on your dress so he could shrug you out of it and moan at the sight of your lace covered breasts. Before you could so much as breathe, his mouth was on one nipple, sucking it hard through the lace while his fingers teased the other into a point.

You gasped out a laugh. “Jake give me a second, at least let me touch you.”

“Ah ah. Need this. Been thinking about this for three weeks sweetheart. Just want to take, want to play out everything I’ve been thinking about and make you feel good.” He stared directly at you, his green eyes sharp as though fixed on a target. “Want to see nothing but you.”

He caught your bottom lip between his teeth. “Taste nothing but you.”

Dipping his head into the crook of your neck he inhaled. “Smell nothing but you.”

Quickly, so quickly, a finger was inside your panties, coating itself in your slickness so that you gasped. “Feel nothing but you.”

As he pressed against the bundle of nerves, you let out a soft moan and heard him murmur into your ears, “hear nothing but you.”

As if on command, you heard a thud against the wall opposite you, followed by a loud giggle and a moan.

Jake’s head snapped back, his eyes narrowing. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

It took a moment - and another thud - for the realisation to dawn on your lust-addled brain before you brought a hand to your mouth, laughing out loud.

“I guess someone had the same idea?” You whispered loudly, stifling another quick laugh. “Who’s next door?”

“Fucking Bradshaw.” Jake cursed through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on the wall as though he could burn lasers through it.

“Oh,” you somehow managed to be rational despite the burning heat in your core. “Rooster has a girlfriend? I thought he and - what was her name?”

Jake turned back to look at you in disbelief. “You really want to talk about Rooster’s love life right now?”

You waved a hand to the wall as you heard the rhythmic creaking of bed springs. “I mean, it’s not like we can think about much else…”

On a grunt, your boyfriend fisted a hand in your hair dragging your lips in for a rough kiss before snaking his free hand back into your panties as his teeth grazed your ear.

“Fuck. That. I have been waiting to get you alone for Three. Damn. Weeks.”

His thumb began to flick from side to side in your clit as his mouth assaulted your neck.

“I don’t care what anyone else is or isn’t doing through that wall, I will have you screaming my name over and over again.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Oh baby, anyone would think you were competitive.”

His head lifted up and you saw the quick flash of arrogance in his eyes.

“Is that what this is about?” You asked, voice stern. “Jake, I-.” But your words were lost on a moan as he plunged two skilled fingers between your folds and had them curling in a way that made your knees buck.

He chuckled. “When you’re the best there is there’s no need to compete sweetheart. But you do sometimes need to show others how it’s done.”

Before you had chance to catch your breath he dropped to his knees, pulling your underwear down in one smooth move and pushing the flat of his tongue against your clit as his fingers returned to your wet opening.

Your sucked in a breath and cupped your hand around the back of his head as you began to moan gently.

His eyes were back on yours as he pulled his mouth back, “oh y/n, you can make more noise than that. Or maybe I need to do something differently.”

His perfect pink lips were next to attack your clit, sucking the tiny bundle of nerves until it swelled and throbbed, until the knot in your stomach became too tight to bear and you found yourself standing on tip toe and grinding against his face in a desperate attempt for even more pressure.

“Shit Jake.” You groaned, his name one long syllable the sound of which made him moan into your heat, eyes sparkling as they stared up at you.

With two fingers still inside you his other hand got to work on your folds, dancing and scissoring around your pussy in ways you hadn’t even known you wanted.

His name became a chant on your lips, matched only by pounding of your pulse that seemed to echo in your ears, throb in your stomach.

“Yes sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling away for a moment to gaze up at you as he licked his wet slick lips sinfully. “Say my name. Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You are baby,” you panted, beginning to see stars as his mouth returned to action faster and more forcefully than before. “Jake. So good. I’m going to. Fuck don’t stop. I’m Fuck. I’m.” The scream that left your lips was so loud you found your own hand flying up to cover your mouth even as you tried to remember how to breathe. And when Jake returned to his feet a few seconds later, he found you that way, hand still over your open mouth and eyes still half closed while the aftershocks of pleasure flooded through you.

“So good,” you murmured, unable to make a more complicated sentence if you tried. Fleetingly you realised that the noise next door had paused.

Jake grinned, sucking the moisture from his lips before removing your hand, kissing it as he spoke and led you across the room. “Now sweetheart I don’t want to see this hand here anymore, ok?” Your eyes widened and you dimly registered a light thudding against the wall as he guided you down onto the bed and, pinning you with his body, returned to your sensitive clit with a hand forceful enough to prevent the squeeze of your thighs when you tried. “I intend to make you feel so damned good that you’re screaming my name over and over again. And I don’t care who hears. OK?”

You nodded, gasping for breath as he stroked his thumb up and down on the swollen spot.

Through the wall you heard something that sounded a lot like “Bradley, now please,” followed by a loud whine.

Your boyfriend’s jaw tightened, and you had a sudden urge to laugh. But that urge vanished as he began to flick at you with more force, more speed, more intensity. Somehow the pressure inside you was beginning to build. Somehow you were racing rapidly towards another orgasm and your dripping pussy had begun to clench uselessly around thin air.

“Jake,” you breathed.

“Oh no sweetheart, I’m gonna need it louder than that.”

“Jake,” your voice was hoarse but loud enough to inspire that broad grin. “Need you. Inside.”

He shifted slightly to move his other hand between your legs but you flinched away, shaking your head as questioning green eyes rose to meet yours.

“Need your cock.”

Jake pursed his lips, the perfect picture of handsome arrogance, and was on his feet in a second, whipping down his trousers and underwear before climbing back between your legs and returning his thumb to your clit.

You arched your back from the bed and let out a sound low in your throat.

“Oh sweetheart,” Jake murmured. “Making such good noises for me.” He leaned right over to catch your lower lip between his teeth before opening his mouth to kiss you. You kissed back hard, using your tongue and the nails that clawed into his back in a desperate attempt to hurry him on as you continued to make sinful sounds into his mouth. His answering laugh was muffled by your lips.

“So desperate for me aren’t you?” He asked, lifting up from you to put a hand around his cock.

You stared at him wide eyed, watching as he pumped his hand up and down his thick length, spreading the moisture that was already leaking from the tip.

“Knew you would be,” he murmured, still stroking slowly with one hand while the thumb of his other continued to move against your clit. You were shaking now, your entire body trembling with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. “Been thinking about it every night that I’ve been here; about how you’d be at home, in our bed, touching yourself and wishing you could sneak in here,“

He shifted closer to you and your breath caught. “Sneak into this room,”

He removed his hand and lifted your legs over one shoulder. “Surprise me with a visit.”

His tip nudged at your entrance, so close that your walls fluttered in anticipation.

“And beg me to fuck you.” He hissed.

“Fuck me,” you whispered.

Jake raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck. Me.” You cried out in response, earning a deep thrust that filled you right up to the deep spongey spot within.

You grasped the bed sheets, screaming out a curse as Jake’s fingers returned to your clit.

“Oh darlin’, so fucking good for me,” he hissed. “Love it when you take me so deep, when I can watch myself moving in and out of you, watch how good you grip me.”

You thrashed from side to side, Jake was always good in bed but this was like nothing you’d ever felt before, your overly sensitive clit buzzing and your pussy throbbing harder with each thrust. The tension inside you was fast approaching boiling point, and if there were any thoughts left in your brain you might’ve felt embarrassed at how easily he’d gotten you there, but there was nothing. Nothing but him - his thumb on your clit, his arm on your ankles, the glorious slam of his hips against your ass, and delicious pressure of him pistoning in and out of you. You let out a stream of words that were nothing short of gibberish and he licked his lips like a predator ready to be fed.

“Gonna come for me darlin’?”

With wide, almost feral eyes you nodded, taking every ounce of strength you had to raise your head and stare down at him.

“Do it. Want to feel you. Want to hear you. Ready?”

Again you nodded, biting your lip so hard you thought blood might flow.

Jake shifted ever so slightly and for a moment you feared he might slow down. But instead he moved faster - faster than you ever thought possible, his thumb taking up the same brutal pace.

“Get ready. I want you to wait, wait on the edge for me to make you feel good.” You whimpered as he pulled back, “and when I tell you, you can come. Right. Now.”

And as he slammed all the way back into you, the pressure within you exploded and you heard yourself scream.

This time there wasn’t even a moment to recover as Jake continued to tap on the swollen bud of nerves just above your entrance. Pulling himself out of you he moved up the bed until he was half on top of you and could kiss your neck, cooing into your ear as you panted.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured. “Such a loud, good girl.”

You mewled and bucked your hips in a desperate attempt to get his fingers away from you.

“What’s wrong baby, don’t want me to make you feel good?”

“Too much,” you panted, “too much.”

“Tell me louder sweetheart,” he murmured into your ear as he gathered more juice from your folds and returned to press harder against your clit.

“Can’t come again Jake,” you groaned, “too sensitive. Can’t-.” You cut yourself off with a scream as he plunged two fingers inside of you and manoeuvred himself beneath you.

“You can baby. One more while you ride and I’ll give your clit a break. Ok?”

You bit your lip and shook your head.

“I can’t.”

“You can y/n. You want to make me feel good too right?”

Moving your hand down to his still hard, pulsing cock, you nodded jerkily.

“Good girl. Then climb on.”

You swallowed loudly, and heard the rhythmic thuds next door pick up pace as a distinctly masculine groan sounded. The sound was enough to make you follow instruction, trembling as you straddled your boyfriend’s tight hips until your now sopping pussy hovered over his weeping tip.

Jake used the hand that came to your hip to pull you down further. You moved gently, taking him inch by inch so that you could feel every ridge and vein of him as he filled you to the hilt.

When his broad head hit your cervix, you heard him grunt, and felt his hips snap reflexively, causing you to gasp and then again as his fingers resumed their movements.

“Oh that’s it darlin’,” Jake muttered. “Take every bit of me deep. You gonna ride me? Ride me until you come?”

The words set off a flutter in your womb and you found yourself moving as if in a trance, every bounce and grind causing you to flutter even further.

“Thought about this too y’ know.” He murmured. “Tugged my cock so many times thinking about you bouncing on it,” he grunted and thrust up to meet you, “so hard the bed banged off the wall. So hard everyone knew what we were doing.”

You whimpered.

“You like that darlin’? Like the idea of everyone knowing that my cock is inside you? Everyone knowing who your pussy belongs to?”

This time when the whimper left your lips he moved his hand up to your jaw. “Tell me y/n. Tell me whose this pussy is while you ride me.”

He was drawing figure of eights now over your clit, and you found yourself riding no longer on instruction but instead to chase yet another high building inside of you.

“Yours, you own this pussy Jake. Only. Fucking. You.”

“That’s right baby, only me.”

From the other side of the wall you heard a whine, followed by a single phrase. “That’s it you dirty, dirty girl.” Your pussy twitched in spite of you and Jake raised an eyebrow.

“Oh you like that?” He chuckled. “What is if you like baby? The dirty talk or being able to hear them fuck?”

You moaned softly as the noise stopped with one final thud next door.

“Or maybe,” Jake murmured, grinding himself into you forcefully, “you like knowing that they can hear us fuck.” He slowed his speech punctuating his words with the thrusts of his hips into the sensitive spot within you. “Knowing. That. Every time. This bed. Hits the wall. They know you’re taking. My cock. So. Fucking well.”

You gripped his hips, grinding into his erection, his fingers, desperately seeking more friction.

“Give them something to talk about baby, come for me again. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Don’t stop.” You panted, eyes rolling back into your head. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Somehow your climax felt even harder this time, hitting you in a way that made you cry out his name in a voice you could barely recognise as your own while you continued to ride him. For Jake’s part, he gripped your thighs tight enough that you knew there’d be bruises tomorrow. But you didn’t care - how could you when it felt so fucking good?

All you cared about right now was the sound of your name on his lips, the relief as his fingers finally gave your clit a break; and the shift inside your still pulsing walls as he sat up and pulled your head to him, fingers fisting in your hair as he kissed you deeply. He panted against your lips and you wondered briefly how in the hell he hadn’t cum yet, how he could still be so hard and still have that depth of lust in his eyes.

As if on command he pulled back, pushing a stray strand of hair back behind your ear.

“Think you can give me one more sweetheart?”

Your eyes widened, “Jake you promised.”

And with a wicked glint in your eye he flipped you over until he was on top and began to move steadily within you, his eyes fixed on yours.

“I promised I’d stop touching your clit, and I will. But I know how to make it good for you without that, what do you say?”

Next door, you heard bed springs squeak and heard the steady chanting of a name. “Rooster, Rooster, Rooster.”

Your eyes flicked consideringly to the wall and then back to his as he thrust deliberately. “Do I have to call you Hangman?”

His handsome face lit up with that superstar smile, eyes sparkling with more than amusement. “Oh sweetheart I think we’re past that, don’t you? Now how about you turn over for me so I can hit all the right spots to drown them out.”

Legs still around his waist you sat up to plant a forceful open mouthed kiss on him as you dug your nails into his scalp.

He groaned out a sigh and returned the gesture, both of you kissing one another as though it were what you needed to breathe. And while he was still deep in the kiss you pulled away, backing off him until his cock slid from you with a pop and then flipping over until you were on your knees with your back to him, resting on your elbows and looking back to him through heavy lidded eyes.

“What do you say Hangman?” You asked as the squeaks picked up pace next door and you heard a loud keening. “Wanna make me scream.”

“Fuck.” He drew out the syllable in a deliciously sinful Texas drawl, and you watched over your shoulder as he fisted his cock, lining it up with your entrance before plunging it inside all the way to your most sensitive spot.

You both cried out in unison, his hand coming up to tug your hair into a ponytail and pull your head backwards, the curve in your spine leading the ridge on the head of his cock to move against your most sensitive spot with every thrust.

“How is it darlin’? Tell me how it feels?”

“So good,” you moaned, gasping for breath as the angle of your neck robbed you of oxygen. Any other time that might’ve been a concern. But right now oxygen was the least of your worries, all you really cared about was the delicious pressure of his dick inside you, of the glorious flames of pleasure that ignited within you every time his thrusts moved your hips forward in that way.

“I’ve missed you inside me. So big you fill me up so well. Missed your hands on me, missed you bending my body in whatever way feels good, taking what you want because you know you can. Know I’ll do anything you ask me to.”

Somehow he was right, the talk mixed with the pressure that accompanied every snap of his hips was enough to have another coil of pleasure tightening within you in a way you’d never been able to manage alone; never been able to manage with anyone but him.

“Why’s that baby? Why will you do anything for me?”

Next door you heard the voices pick up in volume, noises that only spurred you on.

“Because you’re the best Jake,” you moaned, voice getting louder as you knew he wanted. “You’re the best I’ve ever had, the best there is.”

“Yes,” his hips moved harder against yours, deeper still, and you felt his hard abs move against your ass. “That’s right darlin’, keep saying it.”

“Fucking me so deep, getting me so close again.” You cried out, “God Jake I’m close. So close.”

He pushed down on your lower back, tightening the angle that he hit your insides until it was deliciously painful.

Through the wall you heard a deep shout, followed by something like a whine. You didn’t care, it felt too good to care.

“Fuck you hit so deep. So fucking deep. I need to come around your cock.”

“Not yet baby,” he hissed, speeding up his movements as he barked the instruction. “You’re gonna come with me, understand?”

“Jake,” you keened, your womb tightening so much it hurt, and fucked your self back ok him. “Can’t wait, it’s coming. Need it now.”

“Not. Yet.” Again, he timed his words with thrusts and arched his own back as he thrust into you again. “I’m close baby, need you to hold on just a second.”

“Jake please, fill me up. Do it.”

You threw him a glance over your shoulder, your expression filthy and desperate as you told him quietly, “I want your cum dripping out of me while I walk around here today. Bet you’ve thought about that, huh? Having your cum running down my legs while I walk around this place.” His jaw slackened. “No one will know. But I’ll be all yours. All, yours.”

“Now.” He roared, and you screamed loudly enough to graze your throat as you finally exploded with him, feeling him coat the inner walls of your pussy. With one final, sloppy thrust, he put a hand around your middle and pulled you up to him, kissing your back and touching your sensitive nipples as he slowly fucked the last of his cum into you and breathed heavily.

“Fuck I’ve missed you.” He murmured.

You smiled and turned back to look at him again. “I had no idea.“

Slowly he pulled out of you, your combined juices flowing out onto the bed as you both gazed down at them.

“Let me get you a towel.”

You cleaned up and dressed together in silence, grinning at one another like teenagers throughout.

Clean and dressed again you paused. “You think we need to worry?”

“About what?”

“Well as hot as that was, they could probably on the edge of the base.”

“We won though right?”

You raised an eyebrow. “And there I was thinking you just wanted to make me feel good.”

“Oh darlin’, that’s always the top priority. But beating Rooster is right up there too.”

#hangman x reader #hangman fic #hangman smut #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick smut #jake seresin x f!reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin

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superlarva · 10 months

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Rex got Fives a blanket :)

Here's chapter 2 of my fic about Rex parenting baby domino twins!

Chapter 1 here! <- Although you probably don't really need to read it to figure out what's going on.

Next chapter: 03

Summary: Rex brings his newly acquired 7 year old Fives home, making a few stops along the way.

CW: Implied/referenced child abuse

Chapter 2 - The Journey Home

It was dark outside. And raining. Always raining. Fives shifted closer to the nice policeman. His hand was warm. Fives held it a little tighter.

Echo always said policemen were like superheroes. He had read about them in a book one time. Apparently, they made sure people were following the rules and kept everyone safe. Fives had not been sure they were real; it had seemed like a fantasy.

He had asked his mom who the police were once. She had gotten mad and said that the police would only come if he and his brothers were really bad. She had said that they would separate them and make sure he never saw Echo or his other brothers ever again.

Fives looked up at the nice policeman as they walked through the parking lot. His mom was sort of right: they had separated him from Echo.

But she was also sort of wrong.

This policeman had not asked a million questions like the other ones, had not yelled and been scary like the other ones. Instead, he had offered to let him stay with him until he had to go back home—was he going back home?

Fives figured maybe some of the policemen were like Echo’s version and some were like his mom’s. He was glad that this one was like Echo’s.

He liked this one.

They stopped walking.

The nice policeman—Rex?—pulled something out of his pocket and clicked a button. Fives jumped back when the car in front of them lit up and emitted a strange beeping noise.

It was like he was back at home. Back at home going through a drill.

The drill.

It had been Heavy’s idea: during morning drill they would escape.

Halls of flashing red lights and loud sirens.

Climbing over the citadel walls.

Then the explosion.

Cutup, Droidbait, and Heavy gone.

Just him and Echo left.

Just him and Echo.

Then just him.

Rex tried to coax Fives into the backseat of his car, but the boy would not budge. He had tensed up when Rex unlocked the car, and was now just staring absently at the vehicle, rooted in place.

Rex needed to get the kid out of the cold rain and if Fives would not move himself, he had no other option. Rex crouched down in front of the boy, “I’m gonna pick you up and put you in my car, okay?”

Nothing.

“Alright, up we go,” Rex swung Fives up into the back seat.

The contact seemed to get the boy’s attention and he made a quiet whine of protest when Rex extracted himself from him. Rex quickly strapped Fives in before shutting the door so no more rain would get in.

As Res walked around the car to the driver’s side, he checked his phone and sighed when the screen came up empty. Cody had taken a taxi to Kamino General to check on Echo while Rex was signing paperwork. He had said he would text any updates on Echo’s condition.

Rex ducked into the car and checked Fives in the mirror. The boy was curled up with his knees to his chest, the same way he had been when Rex had first seen him. Rex twisted around in his seat so he was facing Fives, “Hey, buddy.”

Fives peaked up at him.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty hungry. Should we stop somewhere on our way home?”

Fives’s eyebrows pushed together, but he nodded his head.

“Any type of food you’re in the mood for?”

Fives shrugged, eyes darting around that dark car, before offering a small, hopeful, “Pizza?”

Rex grinned and started up the engine, “Pizza it is.”

After they crossed out of Kamino, Rex pulled off the highway and found a small pizza place in the outskirts of Coruscant. It was a quiet family run place and the older man behind the counter greeted them warmly when they walked in. There was a couple at the front ordering and a group of teens sitting at a booth in the back whispering excitedly about something.

The prospect of food had seemed to energize Fives a bit and as they waited in line he bounced on his toes a little. Rex decided on a slice of classic peperoni, then looked down at Fives, who was squinting up at the menu, “Anything look good?”

Fives hummed and then pointed to one of the pizzas with a pile of colorful toppings on display over the counter, “What’s that one?”

“Uh,” Rex craned his neck to see the small label over the heads of the couple in front of them. He turned back to Fives, “The Works.”

Fives looked up at him, a fire in his eyes Rex hadn’t seen before, “That one. I want that one.”

The couple moved away from the counter and Rex and Fives filled their place. The old man smiled down at the boy from over the counter, but his expression soured quickly, and Rex became painfully aware of just how odd the pair of them must look.

Fives was wearing a sleeveless undershirt, a pair of boxers, and nothing but socks on his feet in cold December weather. He was—quite honestly—filthy, and bruised head to toe. Rex on the other hand, looked fairly well put together. They painted quite the picture.

Rex grimaced and shuffled around in his pockets for his wallet, taking care to make sure the man would be able to see his 501st patch on his jacket as he did. That was sure to stop him from calling the police, even if it would mean he jumped to the slightly wrong conclusion.

“We’ll have a slice of peperoni and a slice of The Works.”

The man behind the counter looked up from Fives and smiled despite the look of horror brewing behind his eyes, “That’ll be $3.98, anything else I can get you, officer?”

Rex looked at Fives asking a silent question, but the boy just stared back looking slightly overwhelmed. Rex doubted Fives could fit more than one of the giant slices in his stomach, and figured that even if he could, it likely wouldn’t be good for him to eat too much while half starved. He smiled up and the man and took out a wrinkled ten, “Two waters.”

They paid for their food and then went to sit at a table by the front window, away from the other customers. Fives shivered as he sat in the metal chair and Rex cursed internally for his stupidity.

“Wait right here. I’ve got a blanket in the car for you, I’m gonna run out and get it really quick.”

“Okay,” Fives said softly, eyes darting around the Pizza shop.

“It’ll only take a second. You’ll be able to see me through the window, and I’ll be able to see you, okay?”

Fives nodded.

Rex stood and turned to the old man behind the counter, “I’ll be right back, gonna get the kid a blanket from my car.”

The man nodded and smiled at Fives, who offered a weak smile in response.

Rex left the shop and made his way over to his car, looking over his shoulder to make sure Fives was still sitting at the window. The boy was watching him, gripping the edge of the table. Rex grabbed the blanket from his trunk quickly and jogged back to the pizza place, waving it over his head for Fives to see.

As he entered the shop, the boy visibly relaxed but then stood suddenly, the chair screeching backwards with his harsh movement. Fives’s face was racked with guilt and he looked like he was standing at attention, his shoulders squared and thrust backwards, back straight as a pillar, and legs pinned together.

Rex strode over quickly to Fives and wrapped the large grey blanket around his shoulders. He sat in his chair. Fives watched his movements intensely, clutching the edges of the blanket around himself and pulling them in tight. He looked so small engulfed in the blanket and Rex chuckled.

Fives shot him a quizzical look.

“At ease, little soldier.” Rex motioned to the chair, “Sit.”

Fives obliged him a little stiffly, but just as he did the man behind the counter called out their order and pushed two slices of pizza and two cups of water over the counter.

The boy moved to stand again, but Rex waved a hand in dismissal, “I’ll get it. You sit.”

Fives sank back into his chair and Rex grabbed the food, depositing a colorfully decorated slice and a water in front of the boy, “Drink some of that water first.”

Fives nodded seriously, and grabbed the plastic glass with two hands, treating it as if it were an ancient relic, so fragile that if he held it the wrong way it might break. Rex smiled and watched the boy proceed to down the whole glass in a few gulps as he took a few sips of his own.

When Fives set the cup down Rex raised an eyebrow, “Want some more?”

Fives ears turned pink, and he shook his head, “No. ‘m sorry.”

Rex set his own cup down, confused, “No, it’s okay, you can have some more. It’s no problem.”

Fives didn’t say anything, so Rex grabbed the boy’s cup and stood, “I’ll get you some more.”

Rex could feel Fives’s eye boring holes into his back as he refilled his cup. He did not like the way Fives watched him. There was so much suspicion in his eyes. However long it took, he was going show the kid that he could be trusted.

“Okay,” Rex said after they both finished their meals. “Here’s the plan: we’re gonna head home, but first we have to stop at the store and pick up a few things for you.”

“I don’t need anything,” Fives protested.

Rex frowned, “Yeah, you do. I need to get you a booster seat. It’s not safe for you to be in the car without one.”

Fives mirrored his frown, brows drawn together.

Rex continued, “You also need a clean set of pajamas for tonight and clothes for tomorrow at a minimum. I know it’s not a lot, but I think we’re both tired. It might be better to do the rest of the shopping tomorrow.”

Fives pulled a face, “I thought you said we were going to see Echo tomorrow?”

As soon as the boy realized what he said, he clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes full of fear.

Afraid of challenging authority, Rex analyzed. He figured the best thing to do was to pretend he couldn’t see Fives’s fear, and answer normally, “Assuming Echo is well enough for visitors tomorrow, we will, but no matter what, they likely won’t let us see him for very long. We’ll have time for both.”

Fives didn’t seem completely satisfied with Rex’s answer, but he seemed to accept it, looking out the window at the car. Rex followed his gaze, “Ready to go?”

The boy nodded.

They stopped at the Target near Rex’s apartment. He figured it would be better for Fives to start getting comfortable with his new neighborhood rather than stop at some random store on the way.

As they walked up to the sliding doors, Fives tugged on Rex’s sleeve. “Hm?” Rex asked, looking down at the small boy still engulfed in his blanket.

“What’s a booster seat?”

“It’s a chair that you attach to the seat of the car to make it more comfort—”

Rex was cut off by a muffled shriek from Fives as the sliding doors automatically opened. The boy jumped into Rex’s side and grabbed his hand with both of his own, dropping the blanket on the sidewalk behind them. Rex would have laughed if the intensity of the overreaction hadn’t been so concerning.

“Just an automatic door. They open for you when they see you on the motion sensor,” Rex explained, kneeling down and grabbing the blanket, throwing it back over the boy’s shoulders.

Fives looked from the door to Rex and pulled back his hands, the fear slowly melting into a sheepish smile, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Rex said, “They still scare me sometimes too, and I’m all grown up.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Fives looked over at the store a bit uneasily.

“Hey, Fives?” Rex asked softly, watching the boy carefully, “Have you ever been inside a store like this before?”

Fives shook his head, “We weren’t supposed to leave the house. Except for— Except for training.”

“Okay,” Rex said slowly. He could unpack that later, right now he just needed to get through the shopping without traumatizing the kid any further. “It’s a pretty big store, so you need to stay where I can see you, ’kay?”

Fives nodded seriously.

“And there’s going to be a bunch of other people in there, but they won’t hurt you.”

Fives nodded again.

“And if you see anything you want for tonight, let me know and I’ll see if we can get it, alright?” Rex looked down at Fives’s little hands, which were gripping the blanket around him tightly, and held out his own, “If you want to hold my hand, you can.”

Fives tentatively reached out his hand, searching Rex’s face as his did. Rex offered an encouraging smile and, seemingly satisfied, Fives took his hand.

They got a pair of shoes for Fives first and paid for them immediately so Rex could cut the tags off and put them on the boy’s feet. He had chosen a pair of blue and white lace-up sneakers after trying on a pair with Velcro and deciding that Rex’s “kind” (shoes with laces) were cooler.

After Fives was all set with his new shoes, they made their way to the boy’s clothing section. Rex pointed to the racks of pajamas, “Do you want to pick out a pair while I go get you some underwear?”

Fives didn’t say anything in response, but his grip on Rex’s hand tightened.

Rex looked down at the boy and noticed his eyelids were drooping a little. The calories from the pizza must have worn off. “Together?” Rex asked, cracking a smile at the sleepy look on Fives’s face.

The boy nodded and rubbed his eyes.

Rex led them over to the pajamas and pulled out a set of long sleeve navy dinosaur print pjs, “You like dinos?”

Fives’s eyes lit up a bit behind the sleep and he reached out for them.

“Hold on, lemme see if they have it in your size.”

They did in fact have both smalls and extra smalls, which Fives seemed to be in between the sizes of. Rex eventually decided on the small because even though it would be a little big on the kid, at least he would grow into it.

As Rex threw the pair of pajamas in the crook of his arm, he felt a slight tug on his hand from Fives. The boy was holding up a second pair of dino pjs, “Can we get one for Echo too?”

“Yeah,” Rex said taking the clothes from Fives and folding them over the other pair. He hoped Fives and Echo weren’t identical. It’d be a nightmare to tell them apart if they were wearing the same clothes.

They made their way through the rest of the store, picking up a couple packs of underwear and socks, a new set of clothes, a puffy winter coat, and a booster seat for Fives, as well as matching products in different colorways for Echo. By the time Rex paid and loaded everything back into a cart to take it out to the car, Fives looked like a zombie. His hand had loosened its grip on Rex’s and every so often his eyelids would droop and his head would begin to sag before he caught himself and whipped his head back up into alertness.

Fives made it back to the car without falling asleep and even helped Rex load the trunk by throwing in the small bag of clothes while he set up the car seats. Once Fives’s booster was strapped in, Rex picked up the boy and placed him gently in the seat, showing him how to buckle the seatbelt under the armrest.

Fives sagged back into the seat and Rex chuckled, “Comfy?”

Fives nodded and closed his eyes. Rex repositioned the blanket around the boy’s shoulders before shutting the door and making his way back around to the driver’s side.

The rest of the ride home was short, only a few minutes, so Rex was surprised when he parked in his usual spot and turned to see Fives fast asleep, slumped against the seatbelt.

Rex sat for a moment, just staring at Fives. His son.

His son.

Even though he didn’t know him—hadn’t known he even existed for years—Rex was filled with a strange sense of pride. It didn’t wash the guilt away—he was sure nothing could wash the guilt away—just covered it a little, obscuring it from the forefront of his thoughts.

It was a nice feeling, Rex thought. And he could live with that.

@marierg @stressed-cherry @ffdemon @renton6echo @bambambunny

#sleepy Fives #also #can I just say #y'all have been so nice :)#your comments and reblogs make my day #the clone wars #tcw #captain rex #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #commander cody #clone trooper echo #clone trooper fives #clone wars #superlarva #domino twins #baby dominos #star wars

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purpleyoonn · 1 year

Text

Red Riding Hood

A Petrichor drabble

Summary: It was Halloween in Seoul and you were talking about your home traditions compared to South Korea’s with Haneul and Kingpin when you were interrupted. Now, your mates tried to tease you, but you were the one doing the teasing.

Pairing: CEO! Werewolf BTS x Chubby Reader

Genre: petrichor drabble, fantasy au, werewolf au, mates au, halloween

Warnings: not much, bullying, fat shaming, threatening, Jimin being a tease, haneul being a badass, protective best friend kangmin, protective hobi, protective jungkook, some adult costumes,

Happy Halloween Everyone!

Masterlist // Navigation

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Halloween was always your favorite holiday, your older brother often sneaking you out of the house to take you trick-or-treating, helping you hide the candy after the fact so your parents wouldn’t take it away from you.

Now, as an adult, you loved going to the pumpkin patches and doing other fall activities. Baking different fall inspired cookies, or just baking in general. Lighting your favorite fall scented candles and watching Halloween movies. Or even just cuddling with a blanket by the fire.

It was the week before the holiday, and you were talking with Haneul and Kangmin about the holiday, and how you celebrated it in the states. You learned that trick-or-treating isn’t really a thing, and neither is making jack-o-lanterns. Halloween costume parties were a big thing here though.

You were just telling them about the last costume you wore, before you came to South Korea, showing them a picture of you dressed as the Black Widow when a group of your coworkers walked by.

They were from the company that Bangtan bought out and had been merged with your building four a couple of weeks now. There was definitely a new hierarchy being established, especially with a numerous amount of alpha males coming in. Dominance being reestablished and it seemed like they had it out for everyone.

“Maybe you shouldn’t wear skintight clothes. No one wants to see your belly hanging out.” The man, Sangmin, squinted his eyes at your phone after ripping it from your fingers. You could almost feel his pheromones in the air, pushing out to exert force over you and Haneul.

“Hey, there is no need for this. Just give her the phone back.” Kangmin moved to step in between you, Haneul, and Sangmin, trying his best to diffuse the situation before the bosses noticed.

Sangmin just laughed, looking down as your picture again before showing it to his friends on either side of him. They too laughed at your costume. “No one wants to see this whale in her stupid costume anyways. What kind of a child still dresses up as a superhero?”

He practically throws your phone at you, making you stumble to grab it before it drops to the floor. Another group of people come over, this time a couple of women who also work here. You look at them, hoping they just walk past and don’t add onto anything, but your hopes were short-lived.

As you grabbed onto your phone, the picture on your phone had changed to one of you holding onto your carved pumpkin, a regular jack-o-lantern face adorning the orange food. When the woman in front sees it, she laughs.

“I thought only children do that. What are you, five?” You can slowly see how this is going to turn out and move to grab ahold of Kangmin’s arm to tug on it, telling him it’s not worth it when a door open down the hall.

The meeting room had been occupied for a couple of hours, and a couple of your mates were in there, Hoseok and Jungkook. The meeting was about the merge, and how best to incorporate the new employees.

Hoseok is the first to walk out, his eyes catching yours quickly, your sour scent making him latch onto your figure behind Kangmin, your friend in a protective stance. He could recognize the opposing force as a new alpha brought in through the merge, his stance forceful and menacing.

Hoseok did not like the way he was looking at you, nor did he appreciate the way you needed to be protected by someone in his own building. Everyone should know you are their mate.

Jungkook is the first to move, his own steps forceful and powerful as he moves in between the two groups, his hand immediately latching onto your own.

“Are you okay? What happened?” His eyes move quickly over your form, trying to identify if you had any physical injuries, getting slightly distracted by the way your thighs look in your outfit.

“We were just telling them that it is not appropriate to discuss outside activities within the work environment.” The man pushing his pheromones out, Sangmin, interjected before you could speak, causing Jungkook and Hoseok to roll their shoulders back, anger visible on their faces.

When Hoseok turned away from you, he saw the man who spoke straightening his stance, trying to suck up tothe bosses no doubt, he though. He had a large smile on his face, eyes turned up as he switches his eyes from both Jungkook and back to Hoseok.

“Oh, is that so?” Hoseok grins back, causing some of the workers in front of him to step back, Sangmin not feeling the same threat coming his way. He doesn’t even realize what he had started.

“Yes sir.” Jungkook cringes at the title, only liking it when it comes from your lips. “She was showing disgusting pictures to her friends and I said she should save it for after work.” Sangmin continued, placing his hands in his pants pockets like he did them a favor.

Hoseok turns back to you, his smile real this time as he holds his hand out. “And what were these pictures?” He opens your phone up with his own fingerprint causing Sangmin’s eyes to narrow in confusion before quickly changing back when Jungkook glares at the man.

Your phone immediately opens up to the photo of you as Black Widow, Hoseok’s eyes widening and his cock hardening against his pants. He has to use all of his control to stop the moan that wants to leave his lips. His knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on your phone.

“Oh, darling, why haven’t you shown us these pictures before?” Hoseok turns to you, Jungkook peeking over his shoulder to see the picture, his own reaction mimicking Hoseok’s.

“I didn’t know you would want to see them?” You shrug, your shoulders still turned in, trying to make yourself appear smaller.

“I’m gonna send it in the group chat. I already know Jiminie is gonna wanna see you in it in person.” Jungkook takes your phone from Hoseok, grin to his lips as he imagines Jimin cumming in his pants at the sight of your thighs in your costume. Namjoon as well.

Sangmin’s “powerful” stance was now faltering, his confidence in the situation long gone as he notices the comfortability with you and the two CEO’s. He looks between you and the CEO’s, seeing the smirk on Haneul’s face as she stares him down. Taking the opportunity, Haneul speaks up.

“Y/n was just telling us about the different traditions for Halloween in America and we were telling her about our own. When she was showing us her in her costume, Sangmin came up and decided he would make fun of her for it. He called her a child and said, ‘who would want to see this clown in a costume anyway?’ after he grabbed her phone out of her hands.” Sangmin was quick to recognize his new situation, how fucked up he was, when both CEO’s turned to him, their eyes gold as their alpha’s take control.

“You called our mate a whale?!” Jungkook growled out, his body now in front of yours, a protective stance taking over as he tries to shield you from the perceived threat.

Sangmin’s eyes widen at the new information, not knowing the bigger women was the CEO’s mate. He had heard about it, people talking and gossiping, but he never knew who it was. Until now, and it was already too late for him.

“I want your things packed within in twenty minutes. If I see you near my omega again, you won’t live to see another day.” Hoseok’s alpha was poise, his control never wavering as he moved closer, now almost touching the other alpha’s nose with his own. He was doing everything in his power to keep from attacking the poor excuse of an alpha.

Sangmin was shaking in his leather shoes, fear leaking into his pheromones as he nods his head, quickly rushing off to pack his things and leave. Everyone knew not to underestimate the CEO’s, especially when it concerns their mate. Everyone in the city knew what happened with Jinae and knew better than to try anything.

When you finally peeked over Jungkook’s shoulder, you saw that everyone but Haneul and Kangmin had scattered, everyone scared over your fluffy alphas.

“C’mon baby, I wanna see you in a different costume.” Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you away with a very large grin on his lips, a wink sent your direction as you let yourself be pulled away, knowing you aren’t going to be getting away any time soon. You just didn’t think he would be taking you home, where the rest of your mates were waiting for you.

A huge nest was waiting for you when you walked in, courtesy of Jimin and Jin, both standing in front of it with proud expressions and their hands on their hips. The others sat on the couch behind the nest, smiles on their lips as well but you could see the tension caressing their shoulders.

“Hi baby.” Jimin was the first to break the silence, coming forward and pulling you in, his lips capturing yours and tongue pushing past your lips to taste you. His hands moved to your lower back and continued to move lower until he was cupping your ass, making a small whimper move past your lips.

“Okay, move it aside pup.” Jin nipped at Jimin’s ear before knocking him to the side, your elder mate moving in and giving you a kiss of his own before he pulls away.

“Sorry ‘bout him, baby. He loved the picture Koo sent everyone.” You look to Jimin and Jungkook, who both have impish looks aimed your way.

“In fact,” Namjoon spoke up, pulling a bag from behind his back. “He even went and got a costume for you to try on.” They all wore grins now, mischievous in nature and fully dark as if imagining already what the outfit might look like on you.

You take the bag from him cautiously, a little afraid of what the contents are given that your sneaky mate picked it out. You kept looking back to them, their grins never wavering as you enter the bathroom and close the door behind you.

When you opened the bag, you couldn’t help but sigh and place it on the counter.

It was a Red Riding Hood costume, complete with the iconic red hooded cape. You cringed a little, remembering when you wore a similar costume in elementary school, but knew for a fact that Jimin picked this costume because of the stockings and see-through top.

That foxy little wolf of yours.

Shaking your head, you took the costume out of the bag and replaced your clothes with it. You knew you could have fun with it, and you knew that’s exactly what your sneaky mates had in mind. You were a little excited to see their faces when you walked out, and hoped they were going to be as dramatic and excited as you thought.

“Grandmother? Are you home?” You called out to the boys as you walked into the living room once again, turning the corner to see their excited grins fall into dark, lustful gazes. Eyes going straight to your thighs or your breasts, you walked forward even more.

“Yes, dear.” Jimin played along, happy you were going with his idea.

“My, what big ears you have?” You took another step forward, holding the cape a little around yourself causing small groans to leave your mates’ lips.

“Better to hear you with, my dear.”

“And what big claws you have.” Jimin moved forward, taking your hint and letting his claws grow out, gripping your hips with them and pulling you in, a little moan leaving your lips at the feeling of him manhandling you.

“Better to hold you with, my dear.” He grinned, holding you flush against him. He was waiting for you to say the last words, his cock becoming incredibly hard in his jeans and by the way you smirked, he knew you felt it too.

“Hmmm.” You hummed, moving your hands to fiddle with his loosened tie, wringing it your hands and making Jimin groan in your grasp at his own impatience.

“My, my, what big teeth you have.” You finally whispered, causing the boys to stand up from the couch, slowly moving to circle around you and Jimin, closing you in.

“Oh, darling, what better to eat you with.” And with that, multiple pairs of lips were on your neck, one nibbling particularly hard. Jimin had grabbed you with his hand under your jaw, holding your head in place before surging forward, devouring your lips with his own.

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aylacavebear · 3 months

Text

She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 3902

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Mention of Sex, some angst, And the slow burn begins.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 14

Bobby had packed up quicker than what the original plan was and showed up at the bunker two days later. Maria and Jess helped him bring everything in. God her uncle had a lot of books and none of the boxes were light.

He picked a room not too far down the hall from Maria’s and that was where a third of his boxes were taken. That would at least allow him to go through them and figure out what he wanted to do with them all. The other two-thirds of his boxes were stacked neatly in the library.

“Boys not back yet?” Bobby asked once all his stuff was inside.

“They should be here tomorrow,” Jess told him when Maria joined them in the library.

“Have you heard from John yet?” he asked Maria.

She sighed and shook her head, “No, and neither have the boys, at least not as of their call yesterday.”

He sighed and looked around the library, “I left him a message too. That man is stubborn as hell.”

“Well, no one gave him any real details so he couldn’t just run off on his own,” Maria told him.

“He’ll show up, eventually,” Bobby replied with a chuckle.

“Oh, we’re all getting tattoos and no one is arguing with me on this one,” Maria told the two of them.

“Excuse me?” Bobby retorted, not liking being told he was getting a tattoo, even from his niece.

“I came across it in one of the books on demons,” she began as she moved the books around on the table, looking for one in specific, “It’s an anti-possession sigil, and we all need one.”

It took her a moment to not only find the book but also the page the information was on, then showed it to her uncle as Jess looked over his shoulder, “So yeah, tattoos,” Maria said proudly, not giving them a chance to argue.

Bobby groaned as he read the information. The girl was good at finding things, although he wasn’t keen on the idea of a tattoo. Jess thought that the tattoo idea could be fun, and it was a nice image. It could have looked a lot worse and she knew it, as she’d read a lot in the last couple of days.

“You told the boys yet?” Bobby asked after handing the book back to her.

“Nope,” she replied, popping the ‘p’, “Figured I’d surprise ‘em.” she finished with a smirk.

That had at least made Bobby smile as he imagined their faces, “Have you found a way to deal with Azazel?” he finally asked them.

Maria frowned, as did Jess, “No, not yet, but now that you’re here, another set of eyes to help is always a good thing,” she ended with a small smile, not wanting to sound hopeful.

The three of them read through books and files before Maria got up around four to go make dinner, needing to give her eyes a rest but too ansty to sit down anywhere. Her mind was also too full to focus on anything else. She was still trying to figure out how to approach Dean when he got back, as she never forgot the bet between her and Jess.

She made a simple dinner, burgers, and fries, and even cleaned up afterward. She felt burnt out on research and needed a change of scenery but hadn’t felt the desire to go anywhere either. So, after dinner, she just bid them good night and went to her room. Maria plopped down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t long before a light blue and white glow from her top dresser drawer caught her attention.

“I don’t want more dreams,” she groaned as she covered her eyes with her arm.

The light from the book pulsed and she groaned again, like a child putting off a chore before she finally got up and opened the drawer, “Fine. I guess I can’t put it off much longer,” she sighed as she pulled the book out of its box.

The glow went away when she touched it. With everything that had been going on, she hadn’t wanted to add more to her plate but apparently, the book had other ideas. So now she was leaning against her headboard, rereading the chapter on Zamariel, for the fourth time. She had read it three times when she’d first discovered the book back at her Uncle’s, fourteen years ago. That thought made her pause and look up. Had it really been that long already, she thought to herself and shook her head a bit.

She still wasn’t aware the book was written in Enochian. It just looked like normal words to her. Maria read long into the night, far more information than she could absorb in one sitting or one read-through. Around midnight she finally put the book down on her night table before rubbing her eyes.

“Damn,” she sighed as she looked at her clock, twelve thirteen, “Guess time flies when you’re into something.”

When she clicked off her lamp and curled up in bed, she prayed that the dreams wouldn’t come, even though she knew they would. She already felt so overwhelmed with everything else that was going on, she thought that perhaps this would push her back toward whiskey if it was too much, feeling as though she was at a breaking point with her waking world. She even fought sleep for almost another hour before it overtook her.

She was at that lakeshore again with the forest around it and the snow-tipped mountains in the distance. There was a slight amount of cloud cover but it only added to the beauty. “Are you ready?” a female voice from behind her asked. Maria turned around, more curious than anything. No one had spoken directly to her in her dreams before, “Ready for what?” she asked, taking in the woman’s appearance. Long, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and an average physique, and she was a few inches shorter than Maria, dressed in similar clothes. “Ready to take the next step in unlocking your potential,” the woman told her, in a fairly level tone. She wasn’t quite sure what to think of this and had more questions now, “What if I said I wasn’t?” Maria asked, carefully. “Then things will continue as they have been and you won’t remember this dream,” the woman explained plainly. Maria turned away from the woman and sat down on one of the large rocks near the lakeshore, thinking, “What if I said I was ready but wanted to go slowly?” she asked. The woman moved over, closer to her, “Then it would go slowly, at your own pace. The learning would take place at night, in your dreams instead of in your waking world. So it really is up to you,” the woman said calmly. “Why do I feel like somehow the weight of the world rests on my shoulders?” Maria practically mumbled. “I’m surprised you don’t have more questions,” the woman said. “I have a ton of questions. I just don’t know if I want the answers,” she replied, sighing. Maria felt like she sat on that rock and thought about everything for hours but the time of day never changed, “Can you give me a week, to really think about this?” she finally asked. “Yes. Just read the book again when you are ready and I’ll be here,” the woman told her.

She woke up sighing, lying on her back, “I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” she whispered into the darkness of her room before she glanced at the clock, “Six thirty,” she chuckled without humor.

Maria climbed out of bed and got dressed. She wasn’t feeling in the mood to deal with anyone but she wanted coffee, so headed out to the war room, glancing in the library before making her way into the kitchen. Bobby and Jess were sitting at the kitchen table.

“Mornin’ kiddo,” Bobby told her, sipping his coffee.

“Morning guys,” she replied, sounding distant.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, a little concerned.

“I guess it could have been worse,” she chuckled without humor.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jess asked her.

“Not really. Not right now at least,” she replied, giving them both a soft smile before she sat down with them, “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Journalling might help,” Jess suggested.

Maria thought about that while she sipped her coffee. When it came to certain cases it did help to sometimes write out the patterns to make it easier to figure out, “Thanks Jess. I might just give that a shot,” she finally told her, smiling a little.

Jess felt good that she was able to suggest something that might be able to help her. The three had idle chit-chat for another hour before Maria headed to her room, wondering if she had anything that might resemble a pad of paper she could use as a journal. She wasn’t ready to talk to her Uncle about it either, even if her father had said he knew. Bobby and Jess had gone back to research, mostly waiting for the boys to show up with Sam and Jess’s stuff.

She found a pad of paper in the desk drawer, thinking she must have put it there the night when she had unpacked her things. Once she grabbed it and a pen, she sat down on her bed, leaning against the headboard. Her knees were up and the pad was leaning against her legs, but every time she went to write something, it was like her mind went completely blank and it was annoying the hell out of her.

Hours passed and she still hadn’t written anything. It was like all her thoughts kept jumbling around in her mind, or at least that was what she was telling herself. She hadn’t even heard the guys come in, nor the sounds of them moving things down the hall to the room Jess and Sam had picked. It wasn’t until Dean opened her door and stuck his head in that she found out.

“You gonna help or just sit in here and let us do all the work,” he asked her, in a teasing way, with that damned smirk again.

“What happened to knocking?” she told him through her annoyance as she glared at him.

“Uh, forgot,” he said quickly, just smiling.

“Sure ya did,” she mumbled before she got up to help, pushing him out of the way.

“Rude,” he told her, rubbing his chest a little where she had pushed against him with her hand, using most of her body weight.

“At least I didn’t hit you,” she told him without looking over her shoulder as she walked toward the garage.

Apparently, they’d gotten a small U-Haul for the things they had wanted to keep since the space in the Impala was limited. Sam and Jess had talked a lot about what they wanted to keep and what wasn’t important to either of them. Now, everything they owned lay inside that U-Haul. Maria hugged Sam when she saw him, which instantly annoyed Dean, as she had shoved him. Then she helped them unload everything, taking most of it to their room. The two of them even had a mostly private bathroom with as far back a room as they had picked. This way Jess would have somewhere to keep her makeup and all that girly stuff Maria wasn’t interested in, nor would she have to even look at it.

They all ate after the U-Haul was unpacked. As they were sitting around the table, Maria spoke up, “So, everyone is getting a tattoo as soon as John gets here,” she said nonchalantly, but seriously.

Dean almost choked on his beer, which made Maria chuckle a little, even if she didn’t look over at him, “Excuse me?” he asked in utter disbelief.

“It’s an anti-possession tattoo, and everyone, including Uncle Bobby and John, are getting one,” she said confidently.

“Don’t try to argue with her boy, she showed me what it does. She knows her shit and this will keep all of us safe,” Bobby pipped in, backing her up.

“I already decided where I’m getting mine,” Jess said, giving Sam a very flirtatious look.

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked her, raising an eyebrow and smirking, “Where’s that?”

Jess leaned over and whispered something in Sam’s ear, which made him blush, deeply. Maria chuckled as she looked back down at her plate and Dean smirked, but he was looking at Maria, again putting on that cool guy front. There was a little more laughter before Bobby headed out and back to the library. They were still trying to figure out how to kill Azazel after all.

“Come on, I’ll show you the sigil,” Jess told Sam as she got up and took his hand, attempting to get him to follow her. She also gave Maria a knowing look, which only made her roll her eyes.

Sam got up, smiling from ear to ear as he let her lead him into the library. Maria sighed and started cleaning up. She still hadn’t figured out how to ask Dean if he was interested in her without being blunt about it. Dean leaned back in his chair and just watched her move around the kitchen for a while.

“So, are you interested in me or something?” she finally just asked him as she washed the dishes.

Dean’s face went from smiling to shock before back to that cool guy facade again, “You’re hot, why wouldn’t I be,” he said cockily, with a smirk.

She wasn’t sure why but his words didn’t make her feel better, and in fact, only saddened her, “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not interested,” she told him, almost coldly.

He was glad she wasn’t looking at him as his jaw clenched before he left the kitchen, both hurt and feeling rejected. He had been trying to compliment her, not realizing that was probably the worst way to tell her he liked her. Dean didn’t say anything to the three in the library, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and finding a room much further away than hers to go drink alone.

Maria leaned on the counter in the kitchen once he left, feeling hurt that all he seemed to want or be interested in was her looks. She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around quickly, only to find Jess standing there.

Jess saw the hurt in her eyes, “What happened?” she asked.

“Looks like you’ve got chores for the next week,” Maria said quietly, not even able to manage a smile.

“Wait? What happened?” she asked again, not fully understanding.

“I asked him and he’s interested all right, in my looks, not me. So, guess we were both right. I’ll split the chores with you or we can just call off the bet,” Maria told her, feeling a pull toward drinking again.

Jess felt bad for even having brought it up now. She had been sure she’d caught Dean daydreaming about her, at least that had been the look on his face. It didn’t seem to be that of a guy only interested in sex. She’d been around enough college guys to tell the difference. Jess grabbed a beer for her out of the fridge and popped the top before she handed it to her.

“We can call it off, the bet. I’m really sorry I was wrong,” Jess told her softly before heading back into the library, not giving her a chance to reply.

For a moment Maria just stared at the beer Jess had handed to her before she set it on the counter, knowing there was no real relief at the bottom of that bottle. She sighed before she went back to the dishes, deciding to deal with her emotions later, when she was alone. Maria wasn’t in a hurry as she took care of the dishes and then cleaned up the rest of the kitchen. No one came to bother her though. She even dumped the beer down the drain before she threw away the empty bottle. She headed straight to her room though, not wanting to be around anyone.

Since she’d gone through her detox and her grief at Sam and Jess’s at the beginning of the year, she felt things again. These were things that had started when she was fourteen and Dean had told her that she was acting like Sam, things she’d buried back with her grief. Now though, those emotions were coursing through her again and she wasn’t entirely sure what they were or how to fully deal with them.

“Somebody want to tell me what the hell just happened?” Bobby asked Sam and Jess, keeping his voice quiet, but needing information.

Jess sighed as she looked over at him, “I was so sure that Dean actually liked her that we made a bet. Well, I was wrong. He just likes her for her looks,” she replied, still feeling bad.

“What was said, exactly?” Sam asked, curious more than anything, as he had thought the same thing.

“She said that Dean said he was interested in her looks,” Jess answered, looking up at him.

Sam furrowed his brow, as that hadn’t helped at all, “Maybe I should go talk to him.”

Bobby was wondering what exactly had been said as well. He remembered the looks that not only he saw, but that John and William had seen when Dean was sixteen. He also knew that sometimes those kinds of crushes died over time so decided that he’d keep his eye on Dean, feeling protective of his niece.

Dean had been sitting in that room for at least a half hour at this point, drinking and thinking, two bad combinations for him when he felt the way he did. He still couldn’t figure out what he’d done or said wrong. In the past, he always had lots of luck with the ladies. He was smooth, charming, and could make women melt with that smirk of his. But Maria was a completely different sort of girl. He had known this but all women liked compliments, didn’t they? Something Dean wasn’t so good at was words outside of compliments on physical beauty. He had no idea how to tell Maria that he thought she was funny, confident, an amazing hunter, sweet, could cook like a chef, and had had his heart since he was sixteen when he’d seen her that Thanksgiving morning when she pulled the pies out of the oven.

“Dude, you awake?” he heard from the other side of the door.

How Sam had figured out which room he was in puzzled him, “Yeah, go away,” Dean told him.

“Dean…” Sam said, a concern in his tone.

“I said go away,” Dean repeated, a bit more sternly, not wanting to deal with his brother, again. He’d had enough of it on the drive to Cali and back and didn’t want to hear another word.

Sam stood out there for a moment, debating pushing the topic before he finally opened the door and went inside, “What happened?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

“Well, I was right and you were wrong, let’s leave it at that,” Dean said, not looking up at his brother before he took another drink of the whiskey.

“What’d you say to her?” Sam asked, concerned, but still gentle.

“I told her that I was interested 'cause she was hot,” Dean found himself just blurting out.

Sam closed his eyes and turned his head toward the ceiling, letting out a small breath, it all made sense, “You really are clueless, aren’t you,” he chuckled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, almost glaring at his brother.

Sam was doing his best not to laugh at his brother when he looked back over at him, “She’s not some waitress at a bar or some chick you’re picking up for a one-night stand. When was the last time you ever saw her give two shits about her looks? She’s a hunter Dean.”

Dean just rolled his eyes and Sam shook his head before he left his brother to his thoughts and whiskey. When Sam sat down in the chair next to Jess, she and Bobby looked over at him, curious, “What happened?” she asked.

“Let’s just say, Dean’s an idiot.” Sam chuckled.

“Well, I could have told you that,” Bobby almost scoffed.

“He likes her, he just has no clue how to tell her. Those two are gonna have to figure it out on their own,” Sam explained, “They’re both stubborn.”

Bobby knew that firsthand, Maria was his niece after all, and Dean was like a son to him. Jess also understood how that worked. They couldn’t push the two of them toward each other or get either of them to listen to reason.

Maria sat on her bed, leaning against the headboard, her arms resting on her knees as she stared at the ceiling. Jerk, she thought to herself. Being alone in her room wasn’t helping so she got up and headed down to the gym, needing to hit something and get out the anger that had surfaced. She passed Sam in the hallway. He looked as though he was headed to either his room or Dean’s, whichever one that was for the night, but she didn’t ask. Bobby and Jess watched her walk by, through the war room, before she disappeared down the other hallway.

She found the punching bag first, not even taping up her hands, wanting to feel every blow, picturing Dean’s smug, smirking face. At first, there was no pain as she got used to the feel of the bag. Then, she put more force into it, as if she was aiming for the wall on the other side of the room. Before she knew it, she was breathing heavily, her muscles tense and burning, and her knuckles were bruised before she sank to the floor. That was when the tears came. There weren’t many but she let them fall, still refusing to admit that she even liked Dean, or wanted to. When the tears stopped, she stood up and decided she wouldn’t hate him, but she wasn’t about to like him either. She’d go back to him being her rival, like when they were younger.

Her body was sore as she made her way back through the bunker to her room, gathering a change of clothes before heading to the shower. The hot water would feel good on her muscles and help wash away the rest of what she was feeling, relaxing her. She locked the bathroom door and just stood under the hot flow of water for a while, letting it all go. Afterward, she did feel better and was even smiling a bit as she made her way back to the library. She sat down in the seat she’d sat in earlier that day. Bobby raised an eyebrow, watching her.

“You good?” Sam asked her.

“Yup. I’m good,” she replied, lightheartedly as she opened the book she’d been reading.

The three were a little confused but dropped the subject. Dean still hadn’t come out of the room he was in, even after he finished his bottle of whiskey.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 15

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

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always-andromeda · 2 years

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i would love more writer!reader hcs! it's hilarious how calvin's like my least fav pd character but the requests for him are so good, you made him likable 😭😭

Socialization Pt. II | Calvin Weir-Field’s x fem!Reader

Calvin Weir-Field’s x fem!Reader

Word Count | 1,260

Author’s Note | ugh, I LOVE writing Calvin actually so I’m glad someone finds my version of him likable! again, if anyone wants another part of this little dynamic, I’d love to think about making it a sweet little trilogy of headcanons lol thank you so much, anon, for enabling me to indulge in this man.

Warnings | Calvin is a ball of anxiety, nothing else I can think of!

Calvin hates being late to things. So, of course, he's late to the writer's group you invited him to.

It's not his fault that you wrote one of the numbers in the address wrong. It's not his fault that he spent twenty minutes driving down the same street, craning his neck to find the right place. By the end of the ordeal, he finds the breakfast buffet. Tucked away behind a few pretentious boutiques sits the building. Obviously some sort of historic place that has managed to just escape from LA's glitzy grasp.

Having led a group of his own for a few years, he thinks he knows exactly what he's getting himself into. A couple dozen twenty somethings who've convinced themselves they're artists and moved to LA to flounder and die. It's partially why he left said group after his dad died and Lila left.

He parks, gives himself a pep talk, takes a deep breath and enters the restaurant.

A staff member tells him that the meeting had started ten minutes prior in the banquet room. Great. Absolutely fantastic.

Calvin opens one of the doors of the entrance for the banquet room. All eyes are on him within seconds. Shit.

You're standing at a podium, papers in hand and mouth open, obviously midway through a sentence as you glare at him.

Calvin ducks quickly like he's walking in front of a row of people in a movie theater. He finds a table with an empty chair and tries not to meet anyone's gaze as you clear your throat and continue speaking. He quickly realizes that he is very out of place. Most of the attendees are...older. The women dotting the table around him are all white haired with deep wrinkles and wearing their finest clothes.

The next thing he notices is how attentively everyone listens to you. You command the room in such a way that he can tell you've been doing this for a long while. You don't drone on monotonously. And you crack small jokes every so often that makes some bursts of chuckles erupt from various tables.

You give a rundown of different writing workshops that are being held throughout the month, give deadlines for some monthly edition that members can submit pieces to, and read out updates on various projects that some of the members are working on.

Apparently Reginald has a science fiction novel he's been working on for years that is finally in talks of being published. A woman named Maria is in the preliminary stages of research for her book on pigeons. Calvin has no clue who these people are but he's struck by how...not miserable they all look.

You announce a writing exercise. The idea: you're going to give them one word and five minutes to write as much as they possibly can on whatever thought the word reminds them of. Sounds simple enough.

Calvin panics. Because of course he has to feel the frantic grip of anxiety right here and now in an artificially lit banquet hall at 10:38 in the morning. Life very well may have looked kindly upon him up into the very moment he walked into that room and made an absolute fool of himself.

The word you chose? Control.

The timer starts and his mind goes blank.

Control...control control control...he wishes he had control over that stupid timer. It's the only thought he had running through his mind. It's morbid and messy but he doesn't want to be the only one in the room without a word on his sheet of paper. So he scrawls out as much as he possibly can.

He writes about a clock that won't stop ticking. Won't stop taunting. Every time the hands shift, it seems to point and titter at a different failure. Nearly thirty. No high school diploma. No girlfriend. A publisher breathing down his neck. That clock keeps sneaking up behind him and beating him to an indistinguishable pulp. But this time, he catches it. Throws the damned thing to the ground and rips away at the face until it stirs no more. Digging his nails into the inner workings, he tears at all the intricate pieces until he's satisfied that it won't have a chance at coming back. Until he can finally breathe properly.

The timer goes off in reality this time.

And Calvin feels like he's just killed someone. But the tension in his fingers seem to have disappeared.

You say that if anyone would like to read what they wrote aloud, they may. A few people have the guts to do that. Calvin won't be one of the sacrificial lambs; he can't even imagine what kind of horrified stares he'd get this time if he were to describe how he'd murder an anthropomorphic clock. He simply claps along with the other attendees and crumples up his paper, shoving it in his pocket and intending to throw it away when he gets home.

Calvin approaches you after the meeting. You're putting away your notes in a giant, three-ring binder.

Standing in front of you for a solid minute, he's sure that you're deliberately giving him the cold shoulder. He clears his throat. You peer up at him almost dismissively through your lashes.

Returning your attention to your papers, you ask firmly, "If you didn't want to be here then why did you show up, Calvin?"

"Oh, trust me, I did want to be here. I was just...late."

"Okay." you purse your lips and close up your binder before laying your hand on the cover, tapping your nails against the surface and gathering your thoughts. Slowly, you perked back up, "What did you think about the meeting?"

"It was..." Calvin scratched his head before saying with uncertainty, "Enlightening."

His reply makes you snicker. You hadn't actually expected him to attend. And after he was absent for the first meeting after you invited him, you figured that was it. You'd managed to find another snobby writer who looked down his nose at his peers. But with how tall he is, there's no way he can't psychically look down on you. Except instead of disdain in his eyes...it's wonder. Those green eyes look down at you like he’s waiting for you to unveil the secrets of the universe.

You ask with a smile biting at your tone, "What parts did you find enlightening?"

"I thought the five minute writing exercise was fantastic. It loosens you up...forces you to just think of something." Calvin can't help but grin. Sure, he hated what he'd written. But maybe that's what was needed for a creative rut like this. Something messy and terrible and completely wrong. That felt right.

You laughed then. It sends butterflies through his stomach out of nowhere. He joined in, hoping that his nervous grin would convince both you and him that you were laughing with him instead of at him.

"You're a funny person, Calvin Weir-Fields." And a cute person. But he doesn’t need to know that.

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed your time today. I hope you decide to become a member before you go. You can sign up with Donna over there." you nod towards a woman speaking with some other members near the double doors.

Calvin didn't even think about the possibility of spam or extra mail or any of those other annoyances as he gave Donna all of his contact information. All he thought of was writing again. Of seeing you again.

#paul dano #danonation #danocel #ruby sparks #calvin weir fields #calvin weir fields x reader #calvin weir fields x you #calvin weir fields x y/n #calvin weir fields headcanons #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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princewished · 1 year

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If Al was a particular flavor of dumpster fire, what flavor would that be?

So when I was in college - this is a true story - me and a pal of mine would go down to the local Denny's around 2am.

This was just for something to do, usually. College was rough and we were hungry, and the dining hall closed at 9pm and the student food store closed at 1am. it's not like we were high or drunk or anything. we just really wanted some food that wasn't the dining hall food that was inexpensive enough. we'd probably go once every couple weeks.

One day we're sat in this Denny's at 2am - and the Regulars are there, you know, the people you find at 2am in a Denny's, mostly the local stoners, a couple of quiet drunk college kids, a couple older people who didn't want to go home yet but couldn't stay at the bar (Closing Time style). and we've ordered our food, we always got the same order, and the waitress goes back into the kitchen and that's that.

Well, about five minutes later, we hear a shout. We're sat pretty close to the kitchen, and it's pretty loud, pretty urgent. "FIRE! FIRE!"

Well, we look at each other, and then look at the other patrons, and then look at the workers. No one's really moved, and it's 2:15am by now, and it's not like there's alarms going off, so we stay put. there IS the smell of something burning, but it's a kitchen, so.

About two minutes after that the waitress comes out, and her hair is all frizzy and she's all frazzled and breathless. She says, "hey, so, we're gonna have to - change your order, uh, the toaster oven caught fire so we can't toast bread or anything else."

Me and my pal are like, "sure, that's fine. We don't need toast. No worries. What happened?"

And she says, "well, the toaster caught fire, and it was kinda bad, and the alarm system is broken. But don't worry, everything's under control!" with the kind of exhausted grin you get when you're kinda on the edge of hysteria, like the overtired, I'm-not-paid-enough-for-this smile. so obviously we're not gonna give her any trouble or anything.

and no one else has moved and it's not like she's running out, so we stay put.

She goes back into the kitchen to relay our changed order, and comes back out like thirty seconds later. I don't actually remember what they were out of this time, but it was also the product of the fire having spread to something, but again, we're just college students who want something a little better than dining hall food and she's got that smile on her face, so it's whatever. We ate our eggs and bacon without toast or waffles or whatever it was we ordered, and the Denny's peace was restored.

Anyway, all this is to say that that's Aladdin's dumpster fire flavor approximately 24/7. Part of him is shouting FIRE! FIRE! and the rest of him is just the "this is fine" dog meme

#✧ ° ωιѕн fυƖfιƖƖмєηт | answered ask · ° ✧#Anonymous #this was an interesting ask thank you DAHFKASDF #I forgot about this story until now. man oh man. college misadventures huh #'you're only in trouble if you get caught' = dog meme #'I'M IN TROUBLE' = FIRE! FIRE!#this is probably the most batshit way i could've answered this but #hashtag no ragrets and all that sjdkff

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chaletnz · 1 year

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Denver to Peru

As a work perk I got a free shuttle ride out to the airport for my five week 2023 furlough adventure. I was picked up first and then we collected an older couple in Silverthorne from outside their condo, another lady joined who was the mother of one of the dispatchers who was getting a ride into Denver. The driver told us all about her shoulder surgery, while the passengers gave us their full life stories about where they grew up and what they did for work. I happily put my headphones in and stared out the window at the mountains going by. At the airport I took advantage of my free checked bag and checked in the big backpack all the way to Lima so I only had to carry my small bag with me. My Peruvian currency was waiting for me at concourse A - after a lot of restrictions from using Revolut, I was trying to buy currency as a transaction and get rid of a chunk of cash that I was not able to withdraw from an ATM, or send to another bank account. So I was basically stuck with it sitting locked in an account unless I spent it. So despite a terrible exchange rate I figured I’d use some of it up by buying a bulk amount of Peruvian soles and taking them back to the homeland! With my backpack full of cash, and an empty stomach the next stop was Panda Express for a late lunch of chow mein and orange chicken. Upon landing in the heavy rain in Atlanta the pilot got on the intercom a little too soon and rasped out a “whooooa there big fella” and then carried on with his farewell message. Atlanta airport was dirty and mostly closed so my late night lite dinner was McDonald’s fries as that was all that was open. The ground crew got on the Lima flight passengers telling everyone that they’re only allowed two bags, no exceptions - “so if you got 3, y’all need to make it 2”. I’d left my seat selection to the last minute so I was again sitting right at the back and this time on the aisle. Even though I waited right until the end to board I still couldn’t settle in until the two seated beside me arrived. Only they never did arrive! So with a full plane and a wanky guy in front of me trying to get a different seat I jumped over to the window seat as soon as they announced the doors were closed. The window shade was broken and couldn’t go up but it wasn’t too bad. The stinky guy in the middle sitting beside wanky guy ended up moving to the aisle seat in my row but he didn’t try any chit chat with me luckily! I didn’t sleep at all on the flight unfortunately, there was not a lot of legroom and the seat didn’t go back quite far enough to ever get comfortable - I hope this is not what will happen on the night buses to and from Uyuni… The Lima airport was nicely modern, I’d expected it to be more like Guatemala’s airport but actually it had chain American restaurants and nice shops, just not enough bathrooms or check in counter staff. Although for the few bathrooms they had, they were still better than American bathrooms! As one of the major airports of South America I would’ve expected it to be a lot larger, considering Atlanta airport deemed it necessary to go up to an F terminal. I waited in line for over half an hour to check my tiny backpack in and there were probably only ten people in front of me. The timing was good though, I was now hungry enough for an airport breakfast which was tostada francesa (French toast) at Delicass and a mocha because I did not trust the coffee there… It was so busy and loud - in fact the entire airport was. Blaring music playing, everyone talking super loudly over it and even guys sitting on the toilet on a phone call or watching tik tok videos. For the entire restaurant of about 40 tables there were only two waiters but they were hustling as fast as they could and somehow kept everything moving. In the domestic departures area things were still just as chaotic as in the main arrivals hall but I battled my way down the home stretch, almost in Cusco where a hostel bed and warm shower await!

#USA #Denver #Peru

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asterjennifer · 2 years

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Mystictober 2022 | Day 14 - Vanderwood

Summary: Just a little look into the depths of the work as an agent.

─────◇◇◇★◇◇◇─────

“Left hall's clean. Be quick.”

They're not new to this; the tension suffocating the air as the time on the clock mockingly moved forward in slow motion. Times like these happened in heaps, which didn't expand their amount of calm; on the contrary. The more they do it the more it felt like they're getting caught.

At least it's that way for Vanderwood, he couldn't tell for his partner. The redhead sneaked around the corner as adviced and wore an rather unusual expression of seriousness on his young face. The older agent narrowed his eyes at the screen after hacking into the security cameras.

Why was he set up with this guy again? How's he a breathing nuance outside of missions who couldn't keep his place clean for longer than a few hours? Yet he's one of the best ranked agents in the entire agency? It's almost like a curse, Vanderwood thought in between all the research.

It's not easy keeping up with the position of every person who attended the Gala in the first place. However, knowing that the security room's only a couple feet away from the main hall's entry surely had nothing of a relaxing effect on the one wearing a fake costume.

“Where now?” Saeoyung asked, whispering into the mic attached to his ear. Vanderwood turned to the left in order to type other camera views into the keyboard. “Left side, third entrance.”

A nod to witness on the display before Saeyoung moved again to finally leave that place. With the work done, all they needed to do's finding an exit without getting caught in the process. Sounded so much easier than it truly was. Vanderwood put both hands onto the wooden surface then.

Although it's not the most dangerous task they've ever taken on, the fact the people could wander wherever they desired made it a unbelievable pain in the ass. He grabbed the phone that's vibrating, the charger no more plugged into the computer. The information collected must've been enough satisfaction for their boss.

Hopefully. “Vanderwood, where next?” Saeoyung demanded through their only way of communication. The older agent checked the other corners and noticed a couple coming down the right side of the corridor.

It made him gasp in silence. “Run up now and get to the left asap. There should be the exit!” He hissed unintentionally; yet Saeyoung took it as a warning and set his feet into motion.

Vanderwood watched the redhead sprint down the hall, almost getting in the view of the woman and man who just came around the corner of the wall. Luckily it's in time for them; he made another X in the calendar. Another day where the other gets to live.

“What about you? You good?” Saeyoung wondered while passing through the door, successfully out of that enormous building.

The other agent smiled to himself when rolling his eyes by the concern. “Worry about yourself first, idiot.” He muttered, pushing the phone back into his pocket. “I'll catch up in three minutes.”

And with that, he cut off the communication. Vanderwood pressed his ear to the door; hearing nothing but the fainted sound of music playing. Awful Classic Melodies. The sight he looked out for and pretty much luck as it's always the case.

Using his shoulder to push the door, he wasted no time taking the opposite way Saeyoung went. Given the positions had changed again; Vanderwood had no choice but plan out his own escape route.

Only plagued by minimum changes of course; he arrived at the back door soon afterwards. Still in one piece and already welcomed by the redhead who threw his fist into the air while the older one in the small team's gasping for air after running too much for his own taste.

“Woho~ We won once again, Miss Vanderwood! High five!” Saeoyung held out both hands, but the other agent growled annoyed before slapping them away. “Don't celebrate until we're back at the base, will you??“

“Ahh, alright. If that makes my maid happy!”

#mm mystictober2022 #mm_mystictober2022 #mystic messenger #mm #Vanderwood #707 #mystic messenger vanderwood #mystic messenger 707 #Vanderwood & 707 #humor #ff #au

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bertiemaklinn · 2 years

Text

Title: For Your Own Good

Fandom: Original Work

Pairing: Cal/Brie

Prompt: This is for your own good, from @badthingshappenbingo

Summary: Brie gets drugged while at work and starts hallucinating. She has to be restrained for her own safety.

A/N: This uses characters from my WIP, a fantasy novel. You do not need to know the story to read this.

“Brie, can you go and fetch some clean linens for us please, we’ve got a bit of a situation in here and we’re going to need them.”

“Yeah, of course,” Brie said, already rising from her seat in front of the computer, making sure to quickly save her work on the discharge paperwork she was working on before she made her way down the hall to the linen closet.

The door had just swung closed behind her and she picked up some sheets when hands grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her forwards, so she was pushed up against the shelves. She struggled and tried to fight her way free – to use some of the techniques that Az had spent hours upon hours drilling into her – but her assailant overpowered her.

Then, something sharp pierced the skin in her neck and a few seconds later, the weight on her body was gone. She spun around and prepared to fight, but there was no one there.

If it wasn’t for the remaining ache in her neck and the bruises that would no doubt already be forming from her impact with the shelves, she would have thought she’d imagined all of it.

Abandoning the linens in a heap on the floor, she stumbled out of the cupboard and made her way down the corridor. Only a couple of people paid any attention to her.

She came to a stop in front of Raph, sat behind the desk in the seat next to her recently vacated one. He looked up at her and frowned.

“I though Annabelle asked you to get linens for her.” He glanced down at her empty arms and then back up to her face.

Brie opened her mouth to try to say something, but no words came. The world had gone fuzzy around the edges and her legs wobbled precariously.

“Brie?” Raph stood up. “Are you ok?”

“Something… something happened in…” Her mouth kept moving but she couldn’t make a sound.

“What’s wrong?” Raph prompted.

Before she could even try to answer, she was interrupted. “Good to see you again, Brielle. I never thought we’d get the chance to talk again.”

Brie stepped backwards and looked around frantically. She’d know that voice anywhere, but hearing it now was impossible. Yvette was locked away and under several layers of guards. Even if she did manage to escape, she wouldn’t do so without Raph hearing about it within minutes.

As expected, there was no sign of the older woman, which only led to the question of why Brie could hear her.

“You always were slow on the uptake. I’m in your head. It’s a new trick I’ve learnt whilst I’ve been cooped up in this cell,” came Yvette’s voice again.

“But your cell has magic blocks on it,” Brie said out loud, earning confused looks from Raph and some of the other healers around them. She backed up until she hit the wall on the other side of the corridor.

“Brie, what’s going on?” Raph asked, coming around the desk and standing in front of her. He reached out and placed a hand on each of her shoulders.

Her next actions were purely instinctive. Brie let out a sharp blast of her magic that knocked everyone within a five-metre radius of her from their feet.

“That’s it, don’t let them near you. They’ll only get rid of me,” Yvette crooned into her ear, then started to laugh.

“Get out of my head,” Brie moaned, lifting her hands to drag them over her ears, fingernails scraping and scratching in their wake. She leant forward and slammed her head back against the wall. The laughter stuttered for a second, so she did it again, and again.

With each hit, Yvette’s voice in her head paused for a second, before starting up again. The small moments of relief were enough to dull any pain she felt.

“Brie, stop,” Raph said, back on his feet again. He took hold of her head and cushioned the back with his hands. She tried to push him away, but he stood firm. Yvette cackled in her ears now. “Ok, Brie, you need to sleep now.” With his words, her limbs grew heavier, and darkness started to encroach on her vision.

Then everything went black.

---

Cal jogged through the corridors of medical, for once ignoring the looks and greetings she’d received as she passed people. Raph had phoned her just a couple of minutes ago, told her what had happened with Brie, and Cal had barely had the chance to explain to Matt and Az where she was going before she shifted to medical.

It took too long for her to reach the room number Raph had given her before hanging up. When she finally did, she paused only for a second to knock and entered before anyone could call out and give her permission.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the bed, where Brie lay sobbing and struggling against the soft restraints that had been placed around her wrists. Cal didn’t hesitate before going to her side. Cal stared at the scratch marks down the side of her face, and the spots of blood on the pillowcase, then leant down to thread her fingers through Brie’s hair and leant down to speak into her ear.

“Brie, sweetheart, it’s Cal. You’re ok, everything’s going to be fine.”

“She can’t hear you at the moment,” Raph said from the other side of the bed.

“What happened?” Cal asked, not taking her eyes of Brie.

“She’s been drugged, with an unknown substance. It’s making her hallucinate.”

“Can’t you do something? Sedate her or anything?”

“We don’t know how the substance will react with our drugs. It’s not safe. The only thing we can do is help her body flush the drug from her system with fluids and wait.”

He waved his hand and a chair appeared behind her. Cal slumped down into it, taking Brie’s restrained hand in hers and continuing to run her fingers through Brie’s hair.

“Why is she restrained?”

“She’s hurting herself without them. She split her head open banging it on the wall.” That would explain the blood on the pillow then. Raph must have already healed the wound.

“So we just have to wait them,” Cal said.

---

The first thing Brie was aware of when she woke was the ache in her arms. When she tried to move them, she was stopped by something tied around her wrists. The next thing was fingers running through her hair, and a gentle voice.

“It’s ok, Brie, you’re safe. Nothing can hurt you here.”

It took a long time for her to be able to open her eyes, and then it took a few seconds a longer for her vision to focus enough to make out Cal sat next to her bed.

“Hey,” she said, her voice little more than a croak.

Cal startled, apparently not expecting her to be awake. “Brie! How are you feeling?”

She ignored the question and looked around the room instead. White walls, machines with wires trailing to her body. There was only one place she could be.

“Why am I in medical?” All of her recent memories were just one huge blur. She couldn’t make out a single detail.

“You were drugged,” Cal explained. “And you were hurting yourself because you were hallucinating, which is why you’re restrained.”

“Can you take them off?”

Cal leapt out of her seat, deftly undoing buckles and Velcro until Brie’s arms were released. She stretched and flexed her muscles until the ache of being still for too long faded away.

“Thanks,” she said.

Cal grinned. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

#original work #original writing #my writing #project river #badthingshappenbingo

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little-earthquakes-rp · 4 months

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Bio’s & Verses

Verse: Main Name: Etta Fiske Age: 24 Occupation: Music Teacher Location: Long Beach, CA

TW: Domestic Abuse, Suicide mention, & miscarriage

Etta Fiske was born into what appeared to be a normal American family. Her parents, Martin and Arianna Fiske were an older couple, but very much in love. It was obvious from an early age that their little daughter had a gift for music. Wanting to nurture that aspect her parents enrolled her in piano lessons at the age of five. While her parents loved her deeply they were overprotective which eventually led to Etta being overly sheltered. Throughout school, she kept to herself, something that would eventually lead to a crippling social anxiety. The young girl had a difficult time looking people in the eye or holding conversations. As she grew up she was bullied by her peers who found flaws in everything from her red hair to her pale skin. If that wasn’t bad enough Etta didn’t care too much about keeping up with the popular styles and would just be happy with clothes picked up from a thrift store or a garage sale which only added to the misery at school as they often teased her about being poor; despite her parents being middle class. By the time she hit high school, she was quite tall and awkward as puberty seemed to hold out until the last possible minute. If the cruel ridicule was difficult in middle school by the time she hit high school it was too much to bear. When lying down at night all she could hear was the shouts and taunts. Eventually, those voices won as she tried to commit suicide her senior year.

She was found in the girl’s bathroom at school by the gym teacher and rushed to a hospital. The attempt made things tense between her and her parents, and when she returned back to school she heard many whispers in the halls that she had done it for attention. Etta continued to struggle, but finished out and graduated with her class.

It was over the summer she took time to carefully measure her next step. She knew music was the one thing she loved and was appreciated for by others. Feeling the itch to get out of town she headed two hours north to a small school. It was there something remarkable happened; the bullying which seemed to be relentless back home had completely vanished. Unfortunately, her past made her feel socially inept to handle new people who tried to befriend her. Deciding to work on herself, she began to see a therapist by the name Caleb Moreno. He was immediately taken with her quiet, gentle nature in a matter of months he began to pursue her romantically during their sessions. She had never had a man pay so much attention to her, aside from her father. His attention was flattering and it stirred something in her, and for the first time, he made her feel as if she was deserving of love and affection. Caleb could give her something she had never had before – a sexual relationship. She was hesitant to take that step with him but he did not give up, and after time she decided he was the one.

Caleb changed shortly after they became intimate. He started to become possessive and began to track her time and insisted she move into his home. Much to the credit of the controlling therapist she was not only getting used to being social and enjoying it, but now that Caleb had her he didn’t want to share. The abuse started verbally but soon after turned physical. Her love for him waned, and she made attempts to leave, but he would beat her for even trying. Eventually, she obtained a degree in music and a certification for teaching, but he made it very clear she was not to make use of it. A few years later when she found out she was pregnant. The pregnancy only made Caleb angrier and eventually he beat her so badly she miscarried. Etta’s hopes of having a child and a person in her life who would love her without condition were ripped from her that night.

Once healed, she went to see her father. Her mother had already passed and Martin was getting on in years. He wanted so badly to help his precious little girl that he did the only thing he could think of. He told her the truth about having a brother out in California and told her to run as fast as she could. His name was Johnnie Fiske and he was pretty sure he still lived in Long Beach.

Making an attempt to do something for herself in this life, Etta has fled Florida on the search for the brother she never knew she had. She waited till Caleb went into the office to pack up her 94’ Jetta with some clothes and a few small cherished belongings, her kitten Brahms, and a face full of bruises. Leaving mostly everything she ever knew behind she actually has hope in the future because she is finally making choices based on the things she wants, and not what everyone else expected of her. For the first time on her own the only thing she has is a name and an address

Verse: Post-Apocalyptic Z-Day Name: Etta Fiske Age: 27 Occupation: Farmer/Botanist Location: Mid-West

TW: Suicide Mention

While she would never admit to before Z-day happened, growing up on a farm certainly had its advantages. As a youth, she couldn’t wait to be away from the life that woke her at the crack of dawn with the intention of getting chores done before leaving for school. A lot of that time was spent daydreaming of faraway places like bustling cities or a suburbia really any place but the farm. When the time came she ran off to university in one of those big cities with the expectation of studying chemistry, but found herself graduating with a degree in botany: it was just in her blood.

Postgrad she worked in a hydroponics plant but grew bored within a few years. Her disenchantment with life was only coupled further after a failed engagement. When her mother sent word that her father’s health was failing she knew it was time to head home. Part of her was content that her father was gone before the disease spread throughout the world. Etta and her mother stayed held up along with others that had flocked to the farm for a bit; however, as their numbers grew they were having difficulty sustaining.

On a quiet morning, Etta returned from her chores and was surprised to not find her mom in the kitchen cooking up breakfast. Heading towards her bedroom she stopped outside the door and knocked. When nothing was heard she tried to swing open the door but felt some resistance. Finding it concerning she pushed harder and squeezed herself in the space allotted. Much to her horror, she saw her mother’s body swaying-hanging from a rope. It was too horrific to even scream Etta just shut down and shook her head as warm tears fell from her eyes. Walking over she sat down on her mother’s unslept-in bed. It was all too much.

Etta walked out of the room and out the house and grabbed a motorbike which one of the survivors had ridden in on. She left that farm that morning and has no intention of heading back.

#bio #about etta fiske #multi verse #[blog maintenance work]#tw: domestic violence #tw: suicide mention #tw: miscarriage

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annisthree · 2 years

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Chapter II: Taking back what's ours

previous chapter // series masterlist // next chapter

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~5k

Warnings: Explicit language, canon typical violence, sexual tension

Chapter summary: After settling on Yavin IV, the Rebels have to decide on their strategy for the upcoming months. They choose to start by reclaiming a rhydonium refinery on PM-1203, an asteroid recently seized by the Empire

A/N: Cross-posted on wattpad & AO3 (same username)

Here's to hoping no one ever sees my search history, which as of today includes the phrase 'missile launcher blueprints'.

The days slowly merged into one as they settled on the new base. Marla was conflicted: on the one hand, there was something blissful and homely about cleaning out the old rooms, building tables for the cantina and finding new places for everything they brought along from Dantooine. But then again, it was… a bit too blissful and homely. It didn't take more than a couple of days for her to begin to feel uneasy and then only a couple more to get cabin fever. So she took every opportunity to leave the base, even if it was just scouting the neighbourhood or cleaning out the rubble from the landing pad. Hell, she'd even sign up for cataloguing the local fauna if someone had offered.

For now, she figured she would hunt down some mechanics and enlist to help them with ship repairs - the closest thing she could get to actually flying. She yawned dramatically, looking around her quarters. Her wish came true - the new base had enough space for each of them to get a single room, at least until further notice. It was tiny and very much unimpressive. The bare, stone walls screamed bleak and dull, and the lack of windows meant the whole place was drenched in cold, unforgiving fluorescent light. All it could fit was a small bed, an even smaller cabinet, a durasteel desk and a collection of boxes that contained most of her belongings, still unpacked since they moved bases. There was a small bathroom, which, as tiny and old as it was, was still a considerable improvement compared to Dantooine, where they had to share two refreshers between the entire division. She knew some people attempted to make their small quarters feel more inviting and homely, but she had neither the time nor patience. And yet, despite all that, she couldn't be happier: she could finally sleep, with no loud snoring or suspicious activity in the bunk above waking her up at night.

Loud knocking interrupted her thoughts. Unenthusiastically, she dragged herself out of bed, grabbing her trousers from the floor and hastily putting them on before opening the door.

'Morning,' of course, Cassian was already up and ready to work. How predictable. 'Good news. The General has just called a meeting. Pull yourself together,' he said, scanning her messy hair, squinted eyes and incomplete attire, 'And be in the war room in half an hour.'

Clearly in a hurry, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the corridor. Marla yawned again, rubbed her eyes and began looking for a clean top. If she was quick, she could drop by the mess hall and get a warm cup of caf. Yes, that's what she needed.

The war room was one of those places they didn't yet finish. The bare brick walls were painted only halfway, with an open can of paint waiting in the corner of the room. Five giant screens were placed with no apparent pattern, and a stack of crates was still piled by one of the walls. However, they clearly already managed to extend the electrical wiring to this part of the base, because the holomap in the centre of the room was projecting a familiar blue aura.

Right next to the holo, there was Jan Dodonna, illuminated by the blue light as he was hunching over the projector and hastily swiping something on his datapad. He was older, well in his fifties, his white hair bearing witness to all the years on the battlefield. He was one of the first people Marla met when she joined them back on Dantooine. For a military leader, he was surprisingly warm and calm; and yet he commanded universal respect, his words effectively treated as gospel

The war room was not meant to fit this many people, so they were slowly beginning to feel cramped. The air of anticipation was almost palpable, with people impatiently kicking their heels and whispering.

Jan's silver beard moved rhythmically as he was mouthing something, eyes still glued to the datapad. Finally, he put the datapad down on the table and stood upright, back straight, confidence and determination written on his face. All the murmurs halted momentarily, seventy pairs of eyes now looking at him expectedly.

'Thank you all for coming here. I'll try to be quick, but first, I wanted to thank you all for your commitment to repairing the base. We have made amazing progress in the past couple of days and are now fully operational. Which means we're ready to get back in the game.'

A couple of excited whispers travelled around the room.

'At this point in the war, almost every inhabited planet has developed some sort of a resistance movement. Even those initially compliant eventually grew tired of the Empire's cruelty and abuse. They work tirelessly to disturb the regime, to get back what's theirs, to make a difference. But it's not a fair fight. As much as I hate to admit it, the Empire has numbers we can only dream of, at least for now. They are also much more organised and centralised, while we remain scattered around dozens of planets. We lack resources and leadership.'

He looked around the room, assessing the mood. Everyone went quiet, awaiting his next words.

'But think about what we could do together, united. Allied. How much of an impact we could have if we focused our forces and fought together.'

A small wave of enthusiastic reactions followed his words. Marla stayed quiet, but couldn't help the spark of excitement slowly growing in her stomach. With a slight grin on her face, she searched for the familiar faces of her crew. Aevie and Zafe were standing next to one another, whispering something. Sal was in the front, his back turned to her, but she could easily imagine the eager smile on his face. Cassian was standing in the back of the room, leaning on the wall. His head was tilted back, but Marla could still see the delicate nod in his head.

'So, how do we make this happen? First, ships. Our recent efforts have left us short on aircraft. That will need to change - if we want to reach the insurgents on their home planets, we will need ways to get there. I will be assigning several squads to the mission of expanding our air forces. The captains of respective squads will pass you the details. In the meantime, our Intelligence will start reaching out and negotiating with selected groups. Before we do that, however, there is one thing we need to do together,' he paused for a moment, looking around the room.

'As you know, our base on PM-1203 has recently been seized by the Imperial forces, together with the rhydonium refinery that was part of the fort,' the Galaxy map projected from the projector on his left suddenly zoomed in on a small planet in the Outer Rim. 'We have enough fuel to last us a couple more weeks - however, if we want to reach far in our efforts to gain support, we are looking at a potential shortage. So, we have decided to take back what's ours. We will send all our forces and launch an assault to take back the fort. We will strike on two fronts: everyone that can fly will be up in the air, and everyone else will conduct a ground assault. The ground troops will be transported on the Corvette to the drop point north of the base. In the meantime, our birds will be distracting their air forces and disabling the missile launchers surrounding the facility. We do not have an exact tactical map - all our intel is based on how the base looked before it was taken over. From what we have gathered so far, we are looking at least a hundred troops and over twenty TIEs. The operation will begin tomorrow morning - a detailed debrief will be held in the evening in the groups you have been assigned to.'

A slow murmur travelled through the room. Jan stood tall, taking in the sight.

'Yes, we are outnumbered, but we also have the initiative. You have repeatedly proven that numbers don't matter. I have absolute faith in you, your skills, and the success of this mission. May the force be with us.'

He stood there for a moment longer, proud and confident, yet radiating certain warmth, like a father sending his children off on the first day of school. He has been a soldier his entire life, but there was very little of that military rigidity and sternness about him. He often spent time in the hangar bay, helping repair the ships or chatting with the pilots. He didn't need to be threatening; every single one of these people would go through fire and water for him.

Slowly, he turned around and walked away from the map. The crowd followed suit - people began talking, laughing, tripping over wires; as if someone suddenly turned on the volume again. The noisy tide began spilling out of the room. The General and the rest of the command remained huddled by the console, pointing something at a map and passing datapads. Cassian left his secluded corner and was currently whispering something to Dodonna. The rest of the crew disappeared somewhere in the crowd.

The overall mood was that of excitement - people were starving for victory, especially considering that their last efforts focused primarily on running away from the Empire instead of actually taking the initiative. Moreover, an operation this big was a rarity - they usually concentrated on smaller, precise strikes. But a win like this would bring a massive boost to the morale, something to talk about for months to come.

Marla smiled gently. It was finally happening. They were finally standing up to the machine. And she would be there to burn that machine down.

Behind the viewport, the space was covered in streaks of blue and white, the reflecting lights dancing on the control panel of her X-wing. The brilliance of stars blurring into monotonous lines filled her with that special kind of anticipation - restless, maybe even a bit frustrating. Hyperspace was definitely her least favourite part of flying - you just sit there and wait until you can take over the controls again.

2 parsecs.

The glowing number on the navicomputer's screen yanked her back to reality. Almost there. She sat up in her chair and tightened her grip around the yoke.

1 parsec.

And suddenly, everything was alive around her again. Taking in the sudden wealth of stimuli, Marla checked the controls and switched to manual steering. The planet ahead of her was mostly grey and beige, with an occasional splash of blue. Slowly but surely, it became bigger with every second as the ship approached through space.

'All units, this is Black Leader. Report.'

She punched in the comm button, 'Black-one, alive and well, and infinitely bored. Let's get some action.'

'Black-two, reporting,' Cassian's voice, distorted by the machinery, filled her ears. It was weird not having Cassian in charge this time. Marla wondered how he felt about it.

'Black-three, let's do this!'

'Black-four, had some sensor array issues, but we're good and ready now.'

'Black-five, reporting for duty.'

'Okay, all Black units present and accounted for,' the leader said sharply, the tension clearly audible in his voice. 'Black one and two - you're gonna be flying my wing. Black three, four and five - keep those kriffing TIEs away from our asses. Good hunting, everyone.'

They had entered the atmosphere, and it took a moment for her ears to stop ringing after the sudden air pressure change. There were twenty of them in total, divided into four squadrons - similar numbers to the Empire, supposedly. But they had the element of surprise and some damn good pilots that were crazy enough to sign up for this mission.

'Hey, do you think we can loot the base after we're done with them? I'm sure the fuckers filled the rooms with some fancy shit. I'm thinking, a new rug and maybe an armchair would work really well in my quarters.'

'Focus on aiming your gun straight, Blue-five. We'll see about that rug.'

They were closing in fast, the dark metal structures hidden between the mountains already visible on the horizon. The Imperials must have noticed them by now - the skies would soon turn grey with TIEs.

Her, Cassian and Thick's job was to locate and destroy the missile launchers. They had to work fast; otherwise, the ground forces would take heavy losses before reaching the fort. The rest of the squadron was to clear their path and cover their backs so that they could focus on the launchers. The only problem was: they had no idea where exactly they were located - they weren't there in the Republic times, so their location wasn't marked on their blueprints. But Marla was sure they would find out soon enough, most likely when the air gets crowded with flaming projectiles.

They quickly spotted a wave of TIEs taking off and approaching their position. Soon after, the missiles followed - they focused their fire on the closest Rebel ships.

Looking down, she could see their ground forces slowly flowing through the valley that was leading to the mountain clearing where the base was located. It would only take them a couple of minutes to reach the clearing - which meant they had to get rid of those launchers and TIEs pretty fast if they didn't want their people to get decimated.

'Okay, I see four - wait, five launchers. One right above the entrance to that cave in the north, two by the entrance to the clearing, and two on the landing pad.'

'There's one hidden in the trees behind the base,' Marla noted sharply, evading a missile coming from that direction at the very last moment.

'That makes it six, two for each of us. I'll take the one behind the base and above the cave. Blue-two, the landing pad is yours. Blue-one, you clear the entrance.'

'Roger that, leader.'

They split suddenly, each flying toward their targets. Marla stepped vigorously on the gas pedal, hands clutched on the yoke to the point where her knuckles turned white. She was in her element, eyes squinted and focused on the two launchers in front of her, growing bigger and bigger with each second.

From the corner of her eye, she saw an explosion on her right. Her backup was doing a good job, allowing her to focus on the launchers. Still, the missiles forced her to a manic dance, yanking the ship up and down to avoid getting hit.

Marla took a sudden turn to the left and circled behind the closest launcher. Their targeting was pretty sensitive, but not fast enough - she sent one precise round right into the launcher's magazine cell, which resulted in a beautifully colourful explosion. The first target was down.

The second launcher was close by. With half the number of missiles chasing her, it suddenly became easy. She didn't bother with fancy manoeuvres - she flew straight at her target, tilting the ship occasionally to avoid fire. As soon as she got close enough, she sent another round down the launcher's barrel and swerved rapidly to the right. She flew a small circle, admiring how the structure collapsed and turned into a pile of rubble.

'Black leader, we're having a bit of a problem here.'

Cassian's voice hit her like a bucket of cold water. She turned the X-wing around and quickly realised why they had relatively little company in this part of the battlefield - most of the enemy forces were focused on the landing pad, where Cassian and Blue-four were being chased by five TIEs. One of the Rebel ships - difficult to tell which one - was already hit, a small cloud of smoke following their frantic manoeuvres.

Not waiting for orders, she floored the gas pedal, testing the limits of her X-wing.

'Coming,' she barked, squinting and focusing on the landing pad in the distance.

She shot down another TIE on her way, not even bothering with evading, just flying right at him with reckless ferocity. Finally, she got to where the two ships were stuck. The X-wings were running frantically, overpowered by the TIEs and the missiles. Not wasting a second, she dived and momentarily darted at one of the launchers. She got close, really close - she could see the smoke coming from the launcher's barrel as it turned in her direction. She somersaulted backwards to get a quick glance at the second launcher right behind her, and then she pulled up, right when one of the missiles was about to hit her. In the sudden absence of a target, the missile continued its journey forwards - eventually hitting the second launcher and turning it to smoke.

She let out a short cheer and directed her ship towards the group of X-wings on her left. The victory was short-lived, though - right as she reached her squadron, she noticed five more TIEs approaching them from the east.

'Shit, we've got company,' she shouted, firing blindly ahead.

'The ground forces are almost here, too,' someone shouted back through the comlink.

'We're pinned. We're not gonna be able to get rid of these TIEs for long enough to get that last launcher.'

'Black Leader to Ground Alpha. We're gonna need some help with that last launcher.'

'Copy that, Black Leader. We'll approach from the south and set up explosive charges.'

'Are you crazy?' Marla snapped. 'They're not gonna make it to that fucking launcher from the ground level. It's gonna be carnage.'

'Black One, we're surrounded,' Thick's voice was stern and authoritative. 'If we as much as get close to that launcher, we will all be down within seconds. We're out of the launcher's range here. If we stay this way, we can at least try to take down the TIEs.'

Marla checked her flight computer, assessing the positions of green and red dots on the radar.

'You do that,' she finally rasped. 'Get their attention. I can take that launcher.'

'Negative, Black One. You're staying with us. That's an order.'

But she was already speeding towards the launcher. Her heart was hammering in her chest, threatening to crush her ribs into tiny little pieces with every passing second. The launcher was all she could see now. She opened her eyes wide and allowed herself to get hypnotised by the dancing missiles, adjusting to the steady rhythm of the blasting charges as she entered the range again.

Suddenly, the world slowed down around her. She knew what she had to do, and she knew she could do it. There was something magical about that moment; it was just her and her target, and the bright flashes of blasts chasing her from different directions.

'Black One, get your ass back here, NOW!' this time, it was Cassian, his voice distorted by the anger to the point of being barely recognisable.

'I can do it,' she growled.

She briefly glanced at the radar. Two TIEs broke away from the main fight and began following her. That complicated things a little, but she was confident she would make it in time.

'Marla! Marla, get the fuck back!' she heard Cassian's voice again, but decided to ignore him. In fact, she decided to ignore everything that wasn't the massive durasteel structure in front of her.

The distance was quickly shortening. The launcher was now directed right towards her, its steel barrel flashing rhythmically, forcing her to swerve. She sped up even more. The aircraft was shaking, one of her wings consumed by a sudden blast of fire, but she managed to stabilise it. Almost there.

The TIEs were so close behind her that the red and green dots on the radar merged into one. Just a little further.

Now.

Marla suddenly pulled up. She was milliseconds away from crashing right into the launcher, the distance so small that she was sure she scratched the bottom of her X-wing. Still, she made it - however, the TIEs behind her were not so fast. Only split seconds behind her, they missed the window, and both ended up flying directly into the turret, disappearing into the explosion that followed.

A loud cheer escaped her lungs. She suddenly realised she was holding her breath that whole time, and so she began gasping greedily for air, her breath almost as fast as her heartbeat.

A quick glance at the radar confirmed the rest of her squadron almost finished off the TIEs, only two little red dots left on her screen, surrounded by a sea of green.

'Did you see that?' she screamed into the comlink.

'Not bad, Black One. Stupid, but well executed,' Thick's voice filled her ears. An explosion lit up the sky, closely followed by a second one.

'That's all of them,' someone mumbled, panting loudly.

'All air units, this is Bravo Leader. We've taken the base. I repeat, we've taken the base.'

The joyful cheers that followed almost deafened her, but she couldn't stop herself from joining them. They've done it. Lucky fools, they've done it again.

She was tired - stars, she was really tired. The journey back was too short to get any shut-eye - and even if it wasn't, she was still bursting with adrenaline. As soon as she touched down, she was ready to jump out of the X-wing, ignore the other pilots (and the mechanics, shouting about the damages she took) and head straight to her quarters. She had a strong feeling that sooner or later, someone would like to discuss how she disobeyed the orders during the mission. But not now.

The dreams of a warm bed were shattered as soon as she lifted the cracked cockpit canopy and took off the sweaty helmet.

Captain Andor was far from being an open book - be it an innate aptitude or years of espionage experience - but this time, oh Maker, this time, everyone within five kilometres knew he was mad. Marla recognised the look on his face and groaned audibly. In a desperate attempt to escape him, she jumped out of the ship and darted towards the base - but that just seemed to agitate him even more.

'Care to explain what the fuck you were thinking?' he seethed upon catching up with her. She sighed and turned around to face him. Here it comes.

'I was thinking someone has to save the mission.'

Bad idea. If the Captain was angry before, he was now completely livid. She sighed, getting mentally ready for a sermon.

Instead, she felt Cassian grabbing her arm, digging his fingers into her body firmly, almost painfully, and dragging her towards the base.

'Walk,' he hissed, not looking at her. She had seen him angry before, but it was always a surprising sight. And so, dumbstruck, she obeyed.

To be fair, he still kept a lot of his signature composure - to the people they were passing in the corridors, his facial expressions probably didn't seem out of the ordinary. But she knew him, and she also knew that ever so slight furrow of his brows, the stiff gait and the intensity with which he was crushing her arm in his grip.

He stopped abruptly in front of the door leading to her quarters and gave her a stern look. Marla really, really didn't feel like inviting him over, but she also didn't appreciate the increasing number of curious stares they had attracted.

'By all means, do come in,' she sighed as she punched in the code.

Inside, he finally let go of her arm. He didn't bother to sit down, positioning himself in a way that blocked her from entering further, which meant her back was only centimetres away from the now-closed door.

She watched him take a slow breath as if to regain composure. It didn't seem to help much.

'How about the next time you feel suicidal, you just shoot a hole through that empty head of yours, huh?'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' she let out a short burst of fake laughter. 'I'm so terribly sorry I saved the mission. My bad. Won't happen again.'

'Saved it? Saved it? You almost got yourself fucking killed. Clearly, you don't care about staying alive, but you could have at least thought of that X-wing you would have been taking with you. Did you ever think about that? Of course not,' he scoffed, raising his voice, "that would have been the first time Marla Reid saw anything beyond the tip of her fucking nose."

'But I didn't get shot down, did I? You know why? Because I knew I could do this, and I don't doubt my skills the way you do,' she seethed angrily.

'It doesn't matter that you didn't! You disobeyed your direct orders. I could - in fact, I probably should - have you demoted.'

'Go ahead,' she challenged him, squinting her eyes. She couldn't help but notice the tension building in her body, so she made a deliberate effort to keep her voice low and steady. 'Demote me. Reassign me, even. I'd love to see you try to explain to the General why you're moving his best pilot to kitchen duty.'

He scoffed in disbelief, breaking the eye contact for the first time in their conversation. He was standing close enough for Marla to note his quickened breath and the redness spreading from underneath his jacket onto his neck and ears. He was losing it, but she didn't care. She wasn't done yet. 'I did what had to be done. I did what no one else had the balls to do.'

Cassian was still staring intensely at the wall right behind her, suddenly almost aloof.

'Look at me!' she exclaimed, the prolonged silence and the lack of reaction pissing her off even more. 'Admit it. You need me to take the wheel because all you can do is sheepishly follow orders. You need me to do the dirty work so that at the end of the day, you can blame everything on me while the Rebellion slaps a fucking medal on your chest.'

She had always wondered what his limits were. Well, she was about to find out.

As she was finishing her last sentence, she saw a quick spark in Cassian's eye, and within a split second, she was pinned to the wall behind her. He used his forearm to shove her back, pressing it across her chest and applying an uncomfortable amount of pressure just below her collarbones. At the same time, he clenched his other hand in a fist and punched it into the wall, only centimetres away from her head.

'Do you ever just shut up?' he panted after a moment.

She briefly considered retaliating with a snarky comment, but her attention got drawn somewhere else. Cassian was close, close enough for her to count the stray hairs on his cheeks, close enough so she could feel his breath. He was fuming with anger; lips tightly pressed, brows furrowed, eyes glaring daggers at her, drilling a hole in her skull. The unexpectedness of his reaction took her aback. There was something inherently fascinating about how hard he was trying to regain his composure, and how badly he was failing. In all the years she had known him, she had rarely seen him acting on impulse - he seemed to have always carefully calculated his steps and reactions, maintaining an unbreakable facade. And yet, there he was, completely stripped of this protective guise, vulnerable, almost naked in his raw anger.

She suddenly realised her mind was trailing off in a direction she really wanted to avoid. She clenched her fists - not with anger, but in a desperate attempt to snap out of the trance.

But she was already too far gone. Cassian's breath was so heavy it was all she could hear; that, and the racing of her own heart.

Was she imagining things, or was his face slightly closer now than it was seconds ago...?

Snap out of it.

She wanted to stay like this, continue devouring the intensity of his stare, continue absorbing the feeling of his pulse racing against her chest, continue suffocating with the sudden wave of something she couldn't quite place. She wanted to spread out her arms and jump headfirst into whatever this was.

But then, another feeling started creeping in. And just like hours ago, when she was flying straight into a missile launcher, Marla suddenly knew what she had to do.

'Get... the fuck... out,' she murmured, using all of her strength not to say something entirely different. She was not thrilled with how the words came out, weak and almost trembling. Then again, she could blame it on him violently crushing her lungs with his forearm.

For a split second, he didn't even flinch, as if he was processing her words. Finally, he released the pressure from her chest and took a step back, allowing her to peel herself off the door and get past him to put some distance between them.

'You never know when to let go, do you?' he murmured as he turned around to face the door.

Marla closed her eyes, trying to calm her shaky breath. She was suddenly tired again, her legs almost giving up on her.

'Oh, and lieutenant?' he tossed casually, looking back at her over his shoulder just as he reached for the door, 'Couldn't help but notice your heart is beating awfully fast. You should probably stop by the med bay. Wouldn't want our best pilot killed by something as prosaic as a heart attack.'

Cassian's voice was calm again, almost flat, the hint of provocation barely noticeable. But it was there, and Marla suddenly began praying the ground would swallow her up.

Idiot. Stupid, shit-eating idiot.

The sound of the door closing behind him felt like a punch to the face. Sh