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sugako · 3 years

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after dinner special

bokuto x f!reader x hinata sum: after seeing the way his teammate looks at you, bokuto comes up with a plan to help all parties cw: 18+ only minors dni i am begging you, established relationship (bokuto x reader), slight manipulation (?? reader/bo make a secret plan to seduce hinata and he wants to so not really but idk what else to tag it as), oral (f!receiving), double pussyjob, nipple play, orgasm denial, D/s, spit roast, unprotected, hinabo if you squint extra hard wc: 4.2k a/n: finally back from the dead with this wayyy overdue fic ive been thinking about/writing for months, no edits or beta bc i'm too impatient and haven't posted in so long

Above all else, Bokuto was incredibly perceptive to other’s emotions. Among other aspects, that quality had really drawn you to him even if it wasn’t as extraordinarily overt as his confidence and enthusiasm. His perceptiveness didn’t end with you, of course, he was well-connected with his teammates, which meant when he saw the way Hinata’s eyes just barely glazed over when he met you he knew there was something more happening in his head. He watched the burning grow in Hinata after he had witnessed the two of you had, quite obviously, snuck off to another room during a get-together at Meian’s, spit still drying at the corner of your dry, puffy lips a week prior.

Even he wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was as he started up in the locker room a couple weeks later, oversharing every little detail he could recall about your body, namely when it was under him. Ignoring Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s groans for him to stop while Shugo and Oliver snickered to themselves reminiscing about their own escapades from a handful of years ago, he focused on Hinata’s reaction.

Shōyō remained uncharacteristically quiet as he rambled on about how cute your soft tits were, only speaking to quietly excuse himself to the bathroom. He was careful, but not careful enough to hide the tent in his shorts.

Not one to keep a secret, the words came tumbling from his mouth when he burst into your shared apartment.

“I think Hinata likes you!” He managed, tearing off his shoes to stumble into the hallway to wrap you in a tight hug like he did nearly every day.

“I-...what?” You choke, wrapping a tentative arm back around him and peeling away to look at him in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Not like… I don’t know, I think he wants to fuck you.” The smile on his face doesn’t waver, only confusing you.

“I’m not sure how to take this.” You deadpan, brows just short of knitting together. “Why…?”

“Well if you would like that I certainly wouldn’t mind.” His teeth graze over your skin as he pecks messy kisses all over your cheeks and neck.

“You wouldn’t mind?” You blankly repeat back, holding his back by his muscled shoulders to make him look you in the eyes. “Because not minding something and wanting something are very different and I just want to make sure whatever we’re about to talk about we’re just being really clear.”

Bokuto inhaled a massive breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he collected exactly what he wanted to say to you. Before he could, the smell coming from the kitchen distracted his senses, leaving him to weakly exhale and blink his eyes open. “Talk over dinner?”

The long talk over the dinner table was eventually fruitful. After he collected himself and stuffed his rumbling stomach, Bokuto was better able to explain what he had seen in Hinata. It made you recall every time you had seen him and you would be lying if you said you didn’t see it too. He wasn’t exactly a subtle person.

When it came down to it, you certainly weren’t opposed. Bokuto certainly seemed interested in the prospect of sharing you, especially with his favorite prodigy as he liked to class him. You recognized that Hinata was attractive and you had to admit that the concept of being squished between the two thick, bubbly men was alluring as long as he was truly interested.

Before the full invitation to come over for dinner - specially prepared by you - had even slipped from Bokuto’s mouth, Hinata was eagerly accepting. Part of you dreaded the entire ordeal, anxieties bubbling up about the lead up and the talking beforehand that you had foolishly agreed to do most of. Over dinner you stayed a little quieter than usual, trying to gauge Hinata’s expression and body language.

When he politely excuses himself to use the restroom after finishing, Bokuto grabs your hand across the table, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles.

“If you’re nervous we can stop right here.” He whispers, grinning softly.

You can’t help but smile back, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay,” you assure him, “I am a little nervous, but I really want to.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door closing and the soft pad of Hinata’s feet down the hallway. Clearing your throat, you give a reassuring smile to Bokuto, and stand to face where Hinata soon pops out of.

“Hinata, would you-”

“Shōyō is fine!” He interjects. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“That’s fine,” you smile, ghosting your hand down his arm and resting your palm against his elbow. “Shōyō, would you mind helping me wash up in the kitchen. I feel bad asking the guest, but Kōtarō has something for you and you’ll get to it faster if I finish this.”

Hinata can feel his heart pounding behind his rib cage so hard he worries you can hear his pulse reverberating. You look so sweet with those pleading eyes staring at him, the warm touch of your fingertips sending heat to his chest.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” He nods, letting you lead him a room away to the kitchen.

“Great, thank you, this is such a big help.” You grin while placing the dirty dishes in the sink before you and handing him a dry towel. “You can just dry and put them in the cabinet in front of you.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, eyeing down your low-cut shirt as you squeeze your arms together and lean down to grab the first bowl. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you turn the tap on a little too fast and water splashes all over the front of your thin, pale dress, making the black lacy bra underneath pop.

“Whoops!” You exclaim, smiling a little too happily, feeling how his feet shift beside you. “This tap is a little loose, I always get messy and wet trying to do anything.”

He has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning, glad that your gaze is in the sink and not on his flushed face. He doesn’t want to feel this way about his friend’s girlfriend, but it’s so hard when you’re standing so close - did you take a step toward him? when did your hip start brushing against his? - and you look so pretty.

“So, Shōyō…” you start, handing him another dish, “Kōtarō talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Really?” His voice is pitched and strained, stopping short of choking on his own words.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re great. He was so excited when you joined the team. He, uh, he pays attention, a lot more than some people give him credit for.”

Hinata nods, carefully placing the bowl in the cupboard. “He’s great, I’ve always loved watching him play.”

“He’s fun to watch,” you agree, “You know he thinks….actually, can I just ask what your type is?” The words tumble out quickly as you try to gain confidence, a small bit of worry creeping into the back of your head.

“My type?” He repeats back, pausing in his drying motions. “I don’t know if I really have one. Just anyone I feel good with. Why?” When he turns to look at you again you’re turned to face him, a small smile lighting up your features.

“That’s a good way to look at things. I only ask because, well Kōtarō seems to think you have some kind of interest in me.” You force the words to come out casually, keeping your eyes on him. Hinata sputters and chokes on his own words, the way your hand comes down over his doing absolutely nothing to help him compose himself. “There’s no good way to say this, but he was thinking you could, uh well take what you’ve been thinking about, if you want to.”

Taking a deep swallow, he took a short deep breath to clear his mind. “And what do you think?”

Tension dissipates from your body at his question. “I think I would like you to do whatever you want. Touch me, kiss me, anything. Only if you want to.”

His fists clench and unclench again, gears turning in his head as he realizes this was planned. All those stories Bokuto told, the glint in his eyes for the past few weeks, the way you put yourself on display for him all night with that sly little smirk - it was all part of some plan. A little worried voice in the back of his head told him this was too good to be true. But you were offering yourself up to him, angled forward so your tits would pop and watching him so carefully as though he were a scared animal ready to run, and he knew it had to be true.

The timid, apprehensive look he had been sporting slowly drained from his face, replaced with a much more confident and delighted one. His hands moved from his sides to dig into your waist, lifting you up onto the counter behind you.

“Don’t tease me.” He whispers hoarsely, lips ghosting over the pulse of your throat. The loose dress Bokuto had purposefully picked out for you to wear for the evening rode up as Hinata settled his thick body between your welcoming knees.

“I’m not,” you pant, “Kōtarō really wanted this.”

A shuddered sigh comes from his chest as he rests his head against your shoulder, just barely kissing the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. You fidget restlessly, trying to pull his still body closer to no avail.

“Wanna know he wants this.” He says eventually. “I trust you, I just…”

“No, no, I get it.” You say a little too abruptly, fishing around for where your phone was tossed onto the counter. With shaky hands you hurried to click it open, immediately going to your messages, scrolling to the most recent chat with Bokuto where he depicted how much he wanted to see you fucked out on his and Hinata’s cocks in vivid detail. You push the phone into his hand. “You can scroll wherever, he mentioned it before that one’s just… yeah.”

“Oh, wow.” He breathes, glancing through a few other messages from earlier in the week. Gently, he sets the phone down beside you before pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips collide with the base of your throat knocking the air right from you.

You wind your fingers up in his hair as he pressed harsh kisses straight down your front, his rough hands pushing the skirt of your dress up even higher, leaving the tops of your thighs completely exposed. He keeps journeying lower until his cheek is flush to the hem of your panties. When his nose presses up against the slowly growing damp patch leaking his shoulders heave as though to hold himself back.

“And he doesn’t want us to wait up…?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know completely. Bokuto had asked to make some kind of subtle move on Hinata in private, he figured it would be less stressful for the both of you, but he hadn’t said how far to go with him, and you weren’t really sure what he was doing in some other part of the house, and Hinata’s fingers were so hot against your skin…

“No, it’s fine.” You pant, desperation evident in your voice. He doesn’t need much more, hand moving to pull the stretchy fabric you had purposefully worn to the side, his wide tongue darting out to lap up the wetness seeping from you.

With an aching whine, you lean into his touch, massaging his head and bringing him closer to you with every burning second that passes. Not that you had expected him to be inexperienced by any means, but you hadn’t expected him to be so good. He was loud, moaning against your cunt as he buried his tongue inside of you, nose tapping against your pleading clit.

The sound of your breathy whimpers and the loud slurping squelches drowned out the steps coming down the hall or the kitchen door swinging open. Bokuto stood there for a moment with a small smile, admiring how pretty you looked like this, even if he wished it were him, but he couldn’t let the moment pass him by.

“Puppy,” he sighed. The first syllable was enough to make Hinata pop off of you and stumble back to turn around, eyes hazy and drunken of the taste of you. Ignoring the hardened look in Bokuto’s eyes, you pouted sweetly, spreading your legs a little more to let him see your soiled panties.

“Kōtar-”

“You’re being greedy, don’t you think, puppy? Going ahead without me like that.” He imitates you with a fake pout, the look never quite meeting his blazing eyes. You can feel what’s coming and make no more attempt to argue. Hinata is taking in the interaction, still halfway in his own daze. “She’s great, huh, Shōyō? Pretty little pussy and she makes the best noises, especially when she’s crying for your cock.”

Hinata swallows hard, absentmindedly palming over his pants where he’s quickly grown half-hard. “Yeah, she’s, yeah no, uh she’s really great. This is still okay?”

Both of you nod quickly, reassuring him, but you remain silent for now, trying to settle before you know what’s to come.

“Totally okay as long as you’re okay.” Bokuto drops the edge in his tone to carefully watch him for a moment, assessing.

“Completely.” He agrees with a dreamy sigh.

Nodding again, Bokuto approaches the two of you. Refusing to meet his eyes you stare just ahead at the door.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, puppy, you know you’ll get what you want in the end anyway.” He jabs as he scoops you over his shoulder and gives you a gentle pat on the back of your thighs. “Let’s at least go to the living room.”

You glance back at Hinata, mouthing a silent whoops, while Bokuto leads him around the corner. Bokuto plops into the corner of the couch, back propped up by the plush arm, and maneuvering your pliable body to sit comfortably in his lap with your back pulled up flush to his chest. You’re gently pushed forward so he can peel the dress off and unclasp your bra. He’s calm for now, at least on the outside, but you can feel his heart pounding through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t need these anymore,” he hums, latching his fingers in the sides of your underwear and motioning for you to lift your hips to let him slide them off. Hooking his elbows under your knees, he pulls your thighs to your chest, high enough so that he can palm your breasts. Quietly whining, you turn your head away so you don’t have to look directly up at Hinata - not that he’d notice your face with the way your cunt was glistening under the low, soft lights of the room. “Shh,” he directs at you before glancing back up at Hinata, “go ahead, but don’t let her cum.”

With a warm grin he gets on his knees between Bokuto’s spread legs. You almost felt too exposed, all power taken from your hands, splayed open like this. Bokuto slots his chin against your shoulder and presses the softest kiss to your cheek in stark contrast to the way his rough hands are kneading and pinching your sensitive breasts.

Hinata eagerly gets back to it, lavishing your cunt with softer licks than before, making your hips shake as they seek out more friction. While your neediness grows so too does Bokuto’s grip on you.

“So pretty,” he coos, eyes glued to where Hinata was firmly pressed against you. Pride bloomed in his chest at the sight of his teammate sloppily eating out his favorite girl so enthusiastically, appreciating you so much as he should.

It’s impossible for him to not get rock hard with the way you’re grinding down into his lap and the crude, wet sounds and groans vibrating from the back of Hinata’s throat.

“Taste so good.” Hinata grumbles, pulling back and forcing his tense hips to stop rutting into the couch cushion. He feels himself making a mess in his pants, hoping that he isn’t leaking through to your nice furniture, but he can’t quite bring himself to stop either. Both Bokuto and you watch the string - you’re not sure whether it’s his spit or your own wetness - that stays connected between your slit and his puffy, glossy lips.

“Good...good job.” Bokuto sighs. You’re not sure if he’s praising you or Hinata, but you don’t have much time to think too hard about it before he releases your legs and wedges his hands under between himself and you to pull his straining cock from his pants. Mind buzzing, still a little hazy from the feeling of Hinata’s tongue, you grab out from him, pulling on the band of his pants. Truthfully, he’s not quite sure what you’re asking for but he does know how tight his balls are and how inviting your cunt looks.

Just as Bokuto is settling his cock between your ass, Hinata’s pants are slipped off, thrown to the ground. He dips his head down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning around you and pressing in close so his tip catches against your clit. At your whiny cry and keening, Bokuto lets out a low, single chuckle. “Don’t let her have your cock, not all the way. You were being so greedy earlier puppy, I don’t think you deserve it yet.”

Hinata keeps his mouth firmly planted on your chest and reaches down to perfectly slip himself between the top of your folds, acutely aware of Bokuto’s heavy head just barely bumping against the base of his own cock. They’re both so thick and heavy as they rabidly hump against you, Bokuto maneuvering your body for you back and forth across both of them. Everything is warm and wet between Hinata’s mouth on your chest and Bokuto’s lips kissing down the side of your neck.

The tease of release that’s been creeping up on you for so long draws closer and closer. Hinata’s cock is catching so exactly on your swollen clit and Bokuto’s tip keeps threatening to slip past your entrance, slick dripping past your thighs.

“Gonna, ahg, cu-cum!” You manage out, hips already bouncing on their own accord against them.

“Go ahead.” Bokuto says with a shaky breath, squeezing you as tight as he could between his body and Hinata’s. One more roll of their hips has you crashing down, pleasure rolling through your body. All you can feel is warmth and overwhelming satisfaction as you twitch between their arms, creaming across their cocks. “Good girl, good girl…” you faintly hear Bokuto coo into your ear as you slump back against him.

The buzzing, quiet moment is quickly squashed as he hoists you out of his lap and onto all fours. He’s talking to Hinata and you know you should be listening, but your pussy is still throbbing and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“...okay, baby?” You catch the very end of his sentence and blink hard, desperate to refocus.

“W-wait, what? Sorry, I just-”

“It’s okay, puppy,” he rubs a soothing hand down your back, slowly bringing you back to reality. “Need a second?”

You shake your head, the last of the fog slipping away. Before you, you see Hinata, his rigid cock slicked up by you only a few inches from your face. “I’m okay now, can you just say that again?”

“‘Course,” he grins, teasing your entrance, “I said I’m going to take your pretty pussy from back here and Shōyō is going to use your mouth. If you want.”

Wiggling your hips back to meet his and craning your neck up to look at Hinata you give a deft nod.

“I do, I want that.” You sigh.

Trembling with excitement, already so riled up from feeling you cum against him, Hinata shuffles the last bit forward. He’s pretty and much thicker than you had imagined. The tight strain of scattered veins and his heavy balls tell you all you need to know about how pent up he obviously is. Reaching out with palms still a bit shaky, you helped to reel him in the rest of the way with welcoming, parted lips.

You wrapped your fingers tightly around where you couldn’t quite reach, sloppily taking more and more of him with each bob of your head. His salty precum meshed with what was leftover of your own mess, the taste making you moan around his length.

Bokuto was trying to move slower now, recognizing that you were easily slipping, but the way you rocked your body back and forth bumping against his sensitive, reddened tip, he couldn’t hold back much more. Digging his fingers into your hip, he eased the motions of your body, lining himself up, resisting from plowing into you at full force.

“Ready?” He asks, nearly whining. At the sound of his voice, you pull off from Hinata, letting your quickly tiring jaw grow slack.

“Uh-huh.” You barely heave out before wrapping your lips around him again. So sure you can take both at once and not falter, you ramp back up to your original pace, slobbering down his cock, the click of your quick motions echoing around your head. Unfortunately for your ego, you’re dead wrong.

Bokuto wastes no time drilling himself into you, setting a bruising pace straight from the beginning. It’s all you can do to loudly moan around Hinata’s cock, still stuffed in your mouth by the slight pistoning of his hips, the way Bokuto is ramming you forward only forcing him deeper down your throat.

As you gag, sputter, and moan down his length, drool dripping onto the already soiled cushions below, Hinata feels the pressure building and building in his core. Electricity tingles down his limbs, aided by the fucked out look in your pretty eyes. He doesn’t even have to move now with the way Bokuto is railing you against him. He wonders if you realize he’s close when you suck a little tight, cheeks hollowing as you take a little more of him, the hand that had been working his base coming down to lightly hold his swollen balls.

You don’t know. At this point, you’re moving on autopilot, simply trying your best. Your brain doesn’t know where to focus - Hinata filling out your mouth or Bokuto as he purposely alternates between hitting against your spongy spot and deep inside of you. It’s all a mess of spit, sweat, and cum, but you don’t think you’ve felt the rush of pleasure that comes with being used so well by more than one person.

Bokuto doesn’t know how much longer he can last. You’re clamping around, cunt fluttering each time his digs in a little deep or Hinata’s cock twitches against your tongue. He can tell by the scrunched up expression on his friend’s face that he can’t last much longer and he doesn’t blame him. Between fucking against your pussy and being wrapped up in your pretty mouth, no one really could. He’s determined to hold out though, a little spark of competition lighting up his chest. When Bokuto’s strokes suddenly slow you groan again, the vibrations dragging a stuttered moan from Hinata’s pretty lips.

“Gonna, hngh, uh gonna cum.” He sputters out, hips quivering as he tries to hold back from fucking too far back into your throat. At that, Bokuto’s hips speed up again, forcing a little whimpered cry, muffled by the cock in your mouth, from you. Still, you force yourself to focus on Hinata, sucking him dry as soon as the first spurt of cum hits the back of your throat.

He cums fast and hard and a lot. It’s seeping out from your lips, making him messier than he already was until he’s pulling his softening length from your mouth and flopping back against the couch, gently rubbing your arm while he catches his breath. With a heavy grin, Bokuto shoves a hand between your shoulder blades, knocking you into Hinata’s lap. Somewhat in vain, you try to clean him off between the pitchy mewls and cries that you breathe out while Bokuto chases his own release.

In no time, he’s there again, his own pressure built up as high as it could just before he burst inside of you. He fucks himself raw, your tight hole sucking him in, his cum only making it easier to slip in and out of you. Knowing he’ll finish when he’s completely spent, you lie limp in Hinata’s lap and he lazily wraps a hand around the back of your neck, soothing the leftover tension. You recognize Bokuto’s nearly done when his cock stops twitching and his hips slot against yours with some finality just before he slumps over you.

Whining when he slips out, even soft his cock is still a tight squeeze, you fall all the way against the couch, legs giving out at last. He falls back against the back, moving your legs to sit on top of his thighs and massaging them with great care. Completely spent and drifting half-asleep you just barely hear him.

“So,” he starts, head lolling toward Hinata who’s still lightly working his fingers against your upper back, “Dinner next week?”

#bokuto x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto smut #hinata smut #bokuto x you #hinata x you #hq smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #hinata shoyo smut #bokuto kotaro smut #hq x reader

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shslfanficreader · 3 years

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Submissive Shuichi x afab Reader NS//FW Alphabet

Requests are open!

Warnings: Not beta read because I have no friends, it’s all just smut

Word count: 5300 +

Ao3 Link

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Shuichi is a sweet, shy boy before, during, and after sex. If you clean him up he’d be flustered and a bit embarrassed, his cheeks would flush red and his eyes would watch your movements.

He might cry, because he can feel vulnerable and emotional during sex and he could get overwhelmed, or ever cry just because he feels loved.

He’d be in awe of you no matter what, but if you take the time to get him something to eat or drink or do anything small for him, in that moment he couldn’t love you more.

If you let him take care of you, he’d do everything you could have ever wanted. You want a bath? Check. Glass of water? Check. Take out? Check.

He just wants to make you happy.

Either way, he would probably quietly thank you over and over.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your tummy, no matter what size or if you have marks, scars, or stretch marks, he thinks it’s adorable, and if you’re insecure about it he will show you all of that love and make sure you know he loves all of you as you are.

As for himself, he likes his neck. It’s nothing special, but he likes how you kiss, lick, and bite at it. He’s very sensitive around his neck. As much as he gets embarrassed by marks and hickeys showing, he really doesn’t have the willpower when you’re mouth is on him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Shuichi leaks so much precum. He’s embarrassed by it because it’s almost constant when you’re going down on him or jerking him off, but on the plus side it does give a really nice glide to your hand even if you don’t use lube.

Will lick his own cum off of or out of you if you let him. He just feels like it’s the least he can do if you’re kind enough to let him come on you in the first place.

He won’t lick it off your face though. That seems a bit weird. But he will find it incredibly hot and endearing if you lick any of it off yourself.

He's happy to come anywhere you'll let him. Whether he's wearing a condom or not (depending on other means of contraception, of course) he likes to come inside of you. He just loves the feeling of you clenching and your walls twitching and contracting around him as he's worked through his orgasm.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has many dirty secrets, but not because they’re “bad” or overly dirty, really, but because he just gets embarrassed and too flustered to tell you.

One of the biggest secrets he’d try to keep would be that he wants to submit to you, serve you. He wants you to use him for your pleasure and your pleasure alone.

There’s nothing he’d like more than for you to tie his hands to the headboard and ride him until he’s so sensitive and overstimulated he’s crying and coming dry, or for you to sit on his face and grind on his tongue until you’re finally satisfied.

He wants you to do all of these things, but he doesn’t want you to use him like that for him, he wants you to use him not because he asks you to, but because that’s what you want too.

If he could spend the rest of his days naked and tied to your bed waiting for you to come and use him, make him service you, then he’d be happy. It’d be a bonus if you’d walk in, use him, and leave without giving him anything.

The fact that you’d be going about your day in the other room, maybe even have company over, and he’d be unable to cover himself or move if he was walked in on would be terrifying, if not also a little titillating.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Shuichi wouldn’t be experienced at all, you’d probably be his first if not also his first kiss.

That doesn’t mean he would be bad at anything though. He might not know what to do at first but he’s a fast learner and loves finding out what you like. Not to mention he’s a detective. He’s very good at noticing your body language and quickly knows exactly you like.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Please sit on his face. Just. Please. The boy loves it.

It’s because you get to take control and he gets to surrender his to you, focus on what you want, give whatever you want to take.

He loves 69-ing too, for the same reasons. Having your mouth on him makes everything much more intense, but at the same time, as he gets closer and closer to coming, he doesn’t focus on you as much as he’d like to be able to. He’d rather just eat you out as well as he can, and then take care of himself.

Riding is another favourite of his, again, because you get to take the lead and set the pace. Tie his hands to the headboard, and ride him till he’s crying from overstimulation and you’re satisfied. He’s more than happy to be at your service.

If you want him to set the pace and take control, then he likes missionary. If he’s fucking you, then at least he gets to see your face. He’ll watch your face, your body language, look for any reaction he pulls from you to see what you like.

He’s also more than happy for you to order him around and tell him what to do, how hard, how fast, how deep you want him to fuck you.

He considers sex a way for him to show you how much he loves you, how much he trusts you. That’s why he likes being able to submit to you and give you all the pleasure he can. Sure, he likes some himself, of course he does, but he wants to use most of his energy on giving you what you want.

Whether or not you’d let him get away with just focusing on you, well, that’s another story.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

When you first started having sex, Shuichi was very serious. He was so nervous and wanted everything to go according to plan, and things never did. He’d be embarrassed by every little noise, blushing at anything that didn’t quite fit the mould of what was considered “good sex” in the media.

With some added reassurance he learned very quickly that 1. The media is stupid, and 2. All those things are normal and natural.

After that, he doesn’t get embarrassed by any of those things again, unless it’s something particularly lewd.

He isn’t all serious, he has no problem with being a bit goofy during sex, but he’s usually more “cute” than “goofy”.

He also tends to lean towards being more serious the more kinky you’re being and the more submissive he’s feeling.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Shuichi grooms a fair amount. He doesn’t shave but he does some trimming every now and then and keeps things neat, but that’s more for his sanity and because he just prefers it than for anything sexual.

The hair on his head is very dark, very blue based, but his hair down lower doesn’t seem as blue based, probably because there’s not as much so it isn’t as opaque. It’s more of a neutral black than a blue-black, and Shuichi isn’t disappointed about it. He just doesn’t know how he’d feel if the hair so close to his dick looked blue. Not that it would be bad, he’d just might feel a little weird about it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

In Shuichi’s mind, he’s very romantic, and he’s usually quite romantic in general too, but he feels like the kinkier you are, the more the romance takes a backseat.

He loves when you make love, when things are more sensual, when you whisper “I love you’s” back and forth, when you kiss deep and take things slow. The type of sex that you’d see on TV between two typically attractive straight people in their late twenties. The kind of sex you’d have with rose petals covering the bed, surrounded by candles.

But he also loves when things get less vanilla, even if that feels less romantic. He loves being toyed with and edged until he can’t take it any longer, loves being overstimulated until he’s coming dry, loves having a collar put around his neck and being told he’s a good boy, loves being tied up and surrendering to you, loves having his face fucked with a strap-on, loves doing whatever you want and taking whatever you give him.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He tries not to jack off as often as he’d actually like to. Of course it feels amazing, but he always feels guilty afterwards, dirty because of what he’d just done. This guilt is doubled if he thinks about you to get off.

He knows he shouldn’t feel that way. He knows sexual arousal is normal, but with how sex in general is treated he struggles with feeling like he hasn’t done something bad.

That being said, when he does get himself off, he does it in lots of different ways but he usually goes for just jerking himself off or fingering himself. He doesn’t like to make masturbating a big thing most of the time. Sure, sometimes he takes his time with himself, but most of the time he keeps his toys for times when you two get to play together.

When he jerks himself off, he always tries to start out slow. He starts with light pressure too, but builds it up quickly. As he goes, he moves his hand around himself faster, until he’s also bucking his hips up to fuck himself into his fist. Sometimes he doesn’t move his hand at all and thrusts in and out of his hand, imagining he’s fucking you instead.

When he comes, he tightens his hand and only moves it around the head of his cock, almost massaging the cum out of himself.

When he fingers himself, he usually starts with one finger, and builds up to two or three. Most of the time, two suffices, but sometimes he likes to stretch himself out just a little bit more. He uses three whenever he knows he’s going to be fucked too, just to make sure he can take it.

He does fuck himself with his fingers sometimes, but he almost always ends up massaging his prostate. It just gives a different sort of pleasure, and he leaks even more precum when he pays more attention to his prostate.

Sometimes he jerks himself off and fingers himself at the same time, which is a lot. It’s so intense, but he loves it. He especially loves it if you’re watching or instructing him on what to do.

He also loves playing with his nipples when he plays with himself. They're particularly sensitive, so it's pleasurable on its own but can also make his orgasm so much more intense.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Overall, Shuichi leans more towards the vanilla side of things, but some kinks he enjoys, either often or occasionally, include; being used, bondage, praise, body worship, orgasm control/denial/overstimulation, collaring, chastity, cockwarming, and nipple play.

He wasn't overly into bondage until he first tried it. It makes him very vulnerable, so he wouldn't like it unless he really trusts whoever he's being tied up by, like you. What he likes about bondage isn't the part where he's actually bound, but that you get to use him however you want. You could use him like a doll, like a toy, and he’d just have to take everything. He has a preference for being tied up when he's being submissive, but he still likes tying you up to and making you come over and over again whilst you can't fight back.

Shuichi definitely has a praise kink. It’s not really because he loves praise, exactly, more because he seeks validation, and praise is a way to know that you like what he’s doing, that you think he’s beautiful, that you love him.

He wants to know that he’s pleasing and pleasuring you as much as you want.

He especially loves when you call him a good boy, because really, all he wants is to be good for you. When you do, it makes him so happy, but it also flusters him like hell, so he would act shy and blush bright red over his face and chest, and would seem almost embarrassed.

If he’s praised outside of the bedroom he usually tries to argue or disagree, but during sex he’s just so fucked out and feels so good that he can’t even put words together to argue, so that’s the one time he just gets to be praised and has to accept it.

He also loves praising you, loves making you feel good with his words, hopes that he gives you the validation that you always give him.

In the same vein, Shuichi also loves body worship, giving and receiving, for the exact same reasons. When you’re worshiping him, kissing down his tummy, over his thighs, and whispering how beautiful he is? It makes him embarrassed, but he can’t help whining because of how loved you’re making him feel at the same time.

When he worships you, he worships you entirely. He kisses down your arms, up your legs, and after every kiss he tells you something he loves about you, about you in a sexual way, about your body, and about you in general. He pays special attention to any areas you don’t like about yourself, making sure you know he thinks you’re beautiful and loves you no matter what. He can go very quickly between saying things like “you have the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen” to “you’re the kindest and most compassionate person I’ve ever met” to “nobody could ever get me off like you can.”

Once again, his love for orgasm control/ denial/ overstimulation is due to being used and having his pleasure controlled by you. He wants to do whatever you want, even if that means being made to come again and again until it hurts and he has no more come left to give or being taken to the edge over and over again but never being allowed to fall.

He also loves overstimulating you. He prefers overstim over edging or denial because he doesn't want to deny you any pleasure that he could give you.

Chastity is something he loves for the same reasons as being denied and edged. He only wants to do what you want him to, so if you want to put him in a cage to keep him from coming, he's more than happy to oblige.

He likes collaring because it makes him feel like you really want him, like he'd really yours.

He never wears a collar outside of the bedroom. He's not the type to want to put that type of thing on display for everyone to see, but he's very happy to do it for you privately.

A bonus to wearing a collar is that you can easily add a leash and pull him around to wherever you want him to be.

He has a love/hate relationship with cockwarming. On one hand it makes him feel close to you, even more intimate than usual because it almost combines sexual things with non-sexual things. His cock could be inside of you and you could just be sitting in his lap, reading a book or scrolling through something on your phone and he’d just have to sit there and feel every little twitch your pussy makes around him.

Cockwarming never lasts long with Shuichi. He wants to last longer, but he can’t focus on anything and just feeling you around him can make him so close and desperate that he has to fight himself to stop from bucking up into you. It doesn’t take him long to start whining into your neck and mouthing at your collarbones and begging you to let him fuck you.

When you do finally decide to let him, he fucks into you fast, his face so close to yours you can feel his breath over your cheek as he breaths and pants. Since he was already so desperate, he comes quickly once he begins to move. He always apologises once he comes, and asks what he can do to help you get off too, and he’ll do whatever you ask for.

Something Shuichi likes for his own benefit is nipple play. He has very sensitive nipples and if you rub at them, pinch them, or suck on them, he's gone. He can even come just from nipple stimulation alone, but he prefers having a bit of something else to go along with it.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Shuichi much prefers doing anything sexual in a controlled environment, his house being the place he feels safest.

He has a preference for having sex in the bedroom, because it's the most comfortable and that where people say you're "meant" to have sex, but he loves sex on the couch too, or sex in any room, really, as long as nobody can see what you're doing from outside. Except the kitchen. That just seems unsanitary.

He isn't a big fan of doing anything remotely public, where you could get caught, but when he's desperate and the roads are deserted he doesn't mind car sex from time to time. It's just a little bit hot to have that small risk of being caught when the front seat of the car has been laid back and you're riding him. That being said, if he hears any noise while you’re having sex, he asks for you to stop right away so he can make sure no one’s around. He’s a nervous boy, and being turned on doesn’t change that.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Shuichi gets turned on a lot more often and a lot easier than he’d like people to know. He gets turned on by nothing quite often, not even realising he’s turned on until he notices he’s hard in his pants.

He also turns himself on accidentally. He could be sitting at his desk, working on a case, and suddenly starts thinking about the last time his cock was in your mouth or how you look when you get out of the shower and your hair’s still wet.

When it comes to you, it’s very easy for him to get turned on. If you have somewhere to be, it would be a bad idea to nuzzle your face into his neck or sit on his lap.

Dirty talk is another thing that really gets to him. He’s usually quick to be turned on if you start talking about sex or what you could do for him or what he does to you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never do something non consensual or something you weren’t entirely enthusiastic about, of course.

He’s not keen on doing something in public, where other people could easily catch you. He just prefers being in private, in a locked house, where he knows there are no onlookers and is sure he’s not accidentally breaking the law.

Shuichi doesn’t hate being degraded from time to time, but there are certain things that he doesn’t like you to talk about when you’re degrading him. Calling him a whore or saying he’s perverted is one thing, but being told that you don’t find him attractive or that he’ll never make a difference in the world with his detective work or that you don’t love him is something entirely different, so he has boundaries when it comes to degradation, and he’d need some aftercare afterwards no matter what.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Shuichi might not have much experience but he’s a very fast learner, so when he’s going down on you he watches for your reactions to see what makes you moan or lift your hips up to push yourself onto his mouth more.

He has a major preference for giving oral over receiving, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love when you go down on him. He just prefers to please you, and if that means going down on you and getting nothing in return, so be it. 69-ing is a great way for both of you to give and get oral, but he likes being able to focus on you.

He always focuses on your clit a lot, and he doesn’t mind using his hands as well as his mouth to make you feel even more pleasure. If he’s sucking on your clit, he’ll push his fingers into you and try to find your g-spot by crooking his fingers. If his mouth isn’t on your clit and he’s licking around you or pushing his tongue into you, he’ll rub at your clit with his fingers.

He would also be down for rimming you if that’s what you wanted. He wouldn’t want you to eat him out unless you told him you really wanted to. He wouldn’t even bring it up because he doesn’t want you to feel pressured into doing something he’s not entirely sure you’d like, since that kind of thing could be considered a bit weird or dirty. That being said, he’d love if you did want to.

When you go down on him he has trouble controlling himself. Every fibre in his body tells him to tug at your hair and fuck into your throat, but he’d never want to do that without permission. If you do give him permission, he pulls at your head and thrusts in and out of your mouth as fast as he’d let himself. He’d always try to warn you when he’s going to come, but sometimes it sneaks up on him so fast he doesn’t have time, and he comes down your throat without meaning to. He always apologises profusely when that happens, and if he accidentally go cum on your chin, he’s more than happy to swipe it off with his fingers before sucking them.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It always starts slow and sensual with Shuichi. He begins by thrusting into you slow and deep, and builds up speed as both of you get closer. If he’s desperate, he’ll build up to being fast and, but will make sure he’s still deep inside you and filling you up. The sensuality doesn’t leave just because he speeds up, of course. Speed and intimacy don’t always relate.

He isn’t necessarily rough when he’s fast. He’ll never be rough with you unless you want him to be, but when he is he rocks into you in a way that leaves the bed shaking under you and you panting out moans in synch with his thrusts and Shuichi gasping and moaning.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Shuichi is not a fan of quickies. Of course, he’ll have one if you don’t have time, but he much prefers for both of you to be able to take your time, to build everything up, spend as long as you both want and make you come as many times as you need until you’re satiated.

When you do have quickies, there’s not usually as much foreplay as Shuichi would like. You’re trying to be fast, so he barely has enough time to rub at your clit and push his fingers into you to make sure you’re ready and wet enough for him to push into you.

And when he finally does, he starts out slow until he’s sure you’re okay and ready for him to go faster. As soon as you give him the word, he fucks into you hard and fast, never stopping his thrusts, even as he moans and whimpers into your ear. He always rubs your clit during quickies. The entire time. It can be a lot, but he wants to do as much as he can with the little time he has.

If you come before him, it makes him very happy because then he can see if he can get you off again before me comes.

If he comes before you, he's quick to get on his knees and suck on your clit and pump his fingers in and out of you until you come under his mouth.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s down to experiment with most things, but he isn’t the biggest fan of taking risks. Of course, with experimenting you need to take some risks. He doesn’t mind trying things like new toys or positions or sensations, but he draws the line at things that could seriously injure you, be against the law, or potentially humiliate either of you in public, especially in front of strangers. He doesn’t want either of you to be hurt too much or risk embarrassment of being arrested. Some things just aren’t worth it.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Shuichi can last about an average amount of time, maybe a little less. He wants to last longer, but you just feel so good and make him so desperate that he can’t stop himself from cumming. Maybe you could help him with a cock ring...

That being said, he can go for quite a few rounds. Nothing ridiculous, but if you’re not done he can usually get hard again, quite quickly too.

Sometimes he comes inside of you and plays with your clit while his cock is still in you. Just watching you and feeling you contract around him is enough for him to get hard again, and then he can start fucking you hard again until he comes again. He can usually repeat this until you're finally satisfied, even if it leaves him trembling and overstimulated.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Yes, Shuichi owns toys, and yes, he uses them, both on himself and you.

He doesn’t usually use toys by himself, but when he does it’s normally one of a few things.

For solo play he has an average dildo, a vibrator, a fleshlight, and a butt plug. Everything else is for both of you to enjoy.

He has what he considers your collection, because both of you get to add to it and use whatever you want from it.

This collection includes a few dildos for both of you (all different kinds, textures, shapes, and sizes), a couple of vibrators (in all different kinds and shapes and sizes too, of course), a fleshlight, some rope, a pair of police grade handcuffs, a paddle (that’s fluffy on one side), a harness for your strap on, a chastity cage, a couple of different collars and leashes, and some nipple clamps that only get used occasionally.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t like to tease at all. He’d much rather get you off over and over than spend time teasing you, but he will tease if you want him too. He’s not great in terms of willpower when he’s teasing you, it really only takes asking him once or twice until he’ll give you whatever you want.

He likes to be teased by you though, a lot. He will let you tease and edge and deny him for as long as you want, even if that means he gets locked in his chastity cage and is only let out to be edged some more.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Shuichi is a loud boy that tries to be quiet. He really, really tries, but he doesn’t really succeed.

When he first pushes into you or your hand wraps around him, he holds back any noise threatening to leave his throat as best he can, but still lets out the occasional whine and moan.

He gets louder and louder the closer he gets. He makes a lot of different sounds, including a lot of moans, little “ah,ah,ah” sounds, and whines.

Sometimes he also whimpers, groans, gasps, pants, and grunts.

Any noises he makes are usually quite loud, no matter how much he’s trying to quiet them, and high pitched.

Any sounds he makes are beautiful, especially when he’s moaning right into your ear as he’s holding your hips and fucking you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Something that makes Shuichi incredibly flustered is when you send him pictures or videos of you doing various risqué things with various amounts of clothing on.

If you send him anything like that while he’s out he’ll blush bright red and get embarrassed, and he wouldn’t know how to respond. He’d probably just try not to think about it for the rest of the day after saving it to his phone, and get home as soon as possible so he can help you by being your toy.

He doesn’t send pictures or videos of himself very often. He usually feels a bit weird about putting on a show like that and the risk of other people seeing it.

Once, though, he did send you a video. You had called him and could tell he was flustered, and after finding out he was playing with himself, had to ask for him to send you a video of himself, outright.

And that’s how you have a video on your phone of Shuichi fucking into a fleshlight and moaning your name just loud enough that you could hear it over the squealing.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Shuichi’s about average size in terms of length, and a little bit less than average in terms of girth. He gets worried that he’s not big enough for you sometimes, but you can always calm his nerves by telling how perfect he is and how good he makes you feel.

If there’s one word to describe Shuichi’s cock, it’s pretty. He’s cut, and when he’s hard the head turns a pretty pink, a similar shade his cheeks turn when he’s embarrassed. It curves slightly upwards, which feels amazing, especially when he’s hitting your g-spot.

All in all, his size doesn’t matter that much, because he can make you feel incredible no matter what.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Shuichi has a sex drive that’s higher than average, which he thinks is both a good and bad thing.

It’s good because then he gets to be with you more, as long as you want that, of course, and you both get to feel good together more often.

It’s a bad thing because he starts yearning for sex when he’s in public or working a lot too, and that’s not exactly the best place for him to be wanting to get off all the time.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Shuichi doesn’t fall asleep quickly all the time. He always makes sure you’re okay and well taken care of if he does go to sleep, but sometimes he feels like he needs to go do something he thinks is important, like work on a case or find something for you to have for dinner.

If he does fall asleep, he wants it to be next to you, with his arm around you and his head on your chest.

#danganronpa smut #shuichi saihara smut #shuichi x reader #shuichi saihara x reader #shuichi saihara imagines #shuichi saihara headcanons #shuichi saihara fanfic #smut #i hope you like it

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extasiswings · 3 years

Text

Get in, clowns. We’re going to the circus. On ao3.

Eddie’s palms are sweaty.

It’s warm outside, the sun beating down on the park bench where he’s sitting, but it’s the nerves that have his hands clammy as he turns his water bottle over between them.

When Buck had walked in the house earlier, he’d taken one look at Eddie and rolled his eyes before shoving him back into his bedroom.

“You can’t wear that,” Buck said, rifling through Eddie’s dresser. He emerged with Eddie’s tightest pair of jeans and shoved them at his chest before turning to the drawers with shirts.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Eddie asked, baffled as he looked down at himself and then, skeptically, at the jeans.

“You look like a dad.” Buck’s voice went muffled for a moment before he made a noise of victory and pulled out a deep red, long-sleeved shirt that Eddie’s pretty sure is at least a size too small.

“Kind of hard not to. Since I am one and all. That’s not exactly a secret.”

“Yeah, but you can look like a hot dad who is making an effort instead of a regular dad going to the grocery store or something. You’ll thank me later.”

After Eddie had changed and walked out of the bathroom, Buck’s face shifted—Eddie could have sworn his eyes darkened, that his voice was rougher as he pronounced Eddie much better.

So Eddie knows he looks good.

But his palms are still sweaty. He uncaps the water bottle and takes a sip more to have something to do than because he needs it. And then he starts drumming his fingers against his thigh, needing something to occupy them, some way to move.

He’s tempted to pull out his phone, to reread the latest texts from Bobby or even the shameless teasing in the group text that Buck started with his sisters—and boy, was that a mistake, putting the three of them in touch, because Eddie never in a million years would have told them he was going on a date if he hadn’t done it by accident because Buck’s direct messages happened to be right below the group—

He’s still not sure he should be, is the thing. Dating. He still feels like he can’t quite breathe right when he thinks too hard about it. Can still play that last dinner with Shannon over on loop, from her asking for a divorce to the implication that really being with him again would be so terrible she would have to run for the hills and leave their child behind.

He didn’t exactly have great self-esteem to begin with.

Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans—he’s in the middle of debating whether it’s bad parenting to make up an emergency involving your kid to get out of a date, when—

“Eddie! Hi,” Ana greets, walking up the path.

The anxiety in his chest twists tighter as he gets up from the bench and waves.

“Hey. You, uh—you look really nice,” he says, because it’s true and also the easiest thing he can remember from the last time he did this.

Ana smiles. “So do you.”

There’s a pause that lingers a little too long and then they both start trying to speak at once, cutting off abruptly when they realize. Eddie rubs self-consciously at the back of his neck.

“Should we walk?” Ana offers, nodding down the path where it leads into the trees.

“Sure, yeah,” Eddie agrees.

It’s actually not...bad. She asks him about work and that’s a safe enough topic that he’s comfortable spending a few minutes telling her stories from the station. She shares a little about the challenges of virtual teaching. And then she asks about Chris, and, well, that’s an easy subject—Eddie could talk about Chris all day.

He just finishes the story about the actual building of Christopher’s skateboard—which involved no small amount of comical trial and error on the part of two decidedly not Chris-sized grown men—when Ana gets a thoughtful look on her face and glances sideways at him.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks.

Eddie rocks back on his heels and hooks his thumbs in his pockets. “Sure.”

“How long has it been for you?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Since...the last time I dated?”

Ana nods.

“Well…” He wets his lips to stall. “The last person I dated was my wife. And I’m not sure it was really dating in the same way after we were married so...I guess...eleven years give or take?”

He laughs and he can hear the edge of self-deprecation. “That obvious I’m out of practice?”

“No,” Ana says. “No, that wasn’t—it’s really not actually. Although it does explain some things.”

“Things?”

She bites her lip. “Nothing bad,” she insists. “Just—”

“Have you ever been on a date where the other person talked about their ex the whole time and it was kind of obvious they still had feelings for them and you couldn’t help wondering why they weren’t with the ex when they clearly wanted to be?” She asks.

Eddie blinks, scrolling back through their conversation trying to think—he’s pretty sure he hasn’t mentioned Shannon except for the once. And he’s not still—

“In high school, maybe?” He answers. “But I’m not sure—”

“I was trying to figure out if you and Buck ever dated,” she clarifies, and Eddie stops in his tracks, his mind shorting out as he takes that in.

“I—what?”

They’re back at the parking lot anyway, and although they could take another loop around the park, Ana stops by the closest bench and smiles as she leans against it.

“Look, I like you, Eddie,” she says. “And if I’m totally off base and you want to see me again, I will definitely pick up the phone. But if I’m not? I couldn’t not say something.”

“Buck’s my best friend,” Eddie replies. His head is swimming but it surprisingly doesn’t feel bad. More like he’s been handed the clue card for a puzzle he was trying to solve and while the pieces haven’t quite come together fully, they’re getting there.

“You talk about him like he’s your partner. Like the three of you are a family. And when you talk about him you look like…” Ana shakes her head and laughs, but it’s not unkind. Just soft and maybe a little longing. “I would love for someone to look like that when they’re talking about me. Thinking about me. So, I thought you should know. Just in case you didn’t.”

Another puzzle piece falls into place and Eddie sucks in a breath.

“I do like you,” he says.

“Yeah...but you’re in love with him. Right?” Eddie’s quiet and Ana nods.

“I’m gonna go,” she decides. “This was nice, for the record. Maybe we can do it again. As friends next time.”

“Ana—” Eddie calls after her. When she looks back over her shoulder though, he’s not sure what to say except, “...thank you.”

“Let me know how it works out?” She asks. “I’m a little invested now.”

Eddie laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah...sure.”

He drives home in a daze, so much of the past two years—maybe even longer—suddenly thrown into new light. Everything he’s been afraid of, everything that’s been holding him back—all of the baggage and insecurities that Shannon left behind, that have made him feel like he’s not good enough, like he can’t be a partner to anyone—

He never stopped and looked too hard at what he already had. What he was already doing.

What he has. What he is doing.

With Buck.

In the stark glare of hindsight, it’s easy to see—he was still married when they met, was worn down and bruised and not looking for anything. He needed a friend and Buck slipped in to fill that void and Eddie...put him in a box. Put them in a box. Carefully compartmentalizing every aspect of his life because it was easier that way, because it allowed him to sort through the tangled knots of expectation from any number of other sides, any number of other identities—husband, father, son.

There was no baggage attached to friend. No forgive and forget and take your wife back because kids need their mothers or you’ll drag him down with you or I wasn’t enough.

There was just...Buck. Present. Supportive. Caring about him. Believing in him. The real him—masks off, walls down, warts and all.

The longer Eddie thinks, the clearer things become. His mind flips through memories like a scrapbook—panic attacks and phone calls at two in the morning, nights on the couch playing video games with Christopher and the slower, lingering moments with just the two of them after they put him to bed, all those months sharing a bed in Buck’s apartment while he despaired over being away from his son and Buck reminded him he was a good dad—

How many of those nights had Eddie wanted to kiss him? How many times had he felt that buzz under his skin, the whisper of it would be so easy, only to shove it down because it was too dangerous to deal with.

And when he thinks now about the future, about having someone in his home, in his bed, in his life, when he pictures it, all he can see is Buck.

It feels right.

“I love him,” Eddie says out loud, tasting the words on his tongue, letting them linger.

I love him.

His pulse spikes with his anxiety, but it calms down as he sits with it. Because he knows Buck’s not going to leave. He trusts that. Buck’s seen him at his worst and none of that has ever driven him away. So maybe…

Eddie’s mind flicks back to earlier in the day, to the dark heat in Buck’s gaze as it dragged over him before he looked away.

...yeah. They’ll be okay.

He’s home before he even really registers and takes a few slow breaths before he shuts off the truck and gets out. When he steps through the door, it’s a strange feeling. The space is familiar but not. More...settled somehow. Home.

Home.

Eddie closes the door behind him and follows the sound of running water to the kitchen. He stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and spends a moment just watching Buck scrub potatoes in the sink until the other man glances up and notices him.

“Hey,” Buck greets. “Chris is reading in his room, I’m just working on dinner. How was the date?”

God, I love you, Eddie thinks, and nearly has to bite his tongue to keep it to himself.

Yeah. It’s right.

He shrugs. “It was fine. Ana’s nice.”

“When’s the next date then?” There’s an odd note in Buck’s voice that makes Eddie push off the frame and step closer.

“There’s not going to be one,” he replies. “Ana’s nice...but I don’t want to date her.”

Buck stops. Shuts off the water and turns, leaning back against the sink.

“No?” Buck’s brow furrows. “It’s not—do you still feel like you’re not ready?”

“No, it’s not that,” Eddie replies. “I do think I’m ready. But with the right person.”

His heart is pounding in his chest, but it’s not fear. More...anticipation.

He swallows hard.

“Ana said something that made me realize that...I don’t want to start from scratch with some stranger.”

Eddie takes another step closer and Buck inhales sharply, emotions shifting across his face too quickly for Eddie to name them all.

“Eddie…” Buck sounds hoarse, a little disbelieving. He leans forward for a moment before shaking his head, clearing his throat.

“I can’t—I need you to be specific,” he says. “Because I can’t make assumptions here, I can’t—”

Eddie kisses him. Steps in far enough that Buck’s body presses flush against his, slides his hand around the back of Buck’s neck, and kisses him. Buck makes a small noise and grips him right back, his hands curving around Eddie’s hips nearly tight enough to bruise in sharp contrast to the way Eddie’s mouth feathers against his, soft as anything.

“Specific enough?” Eddie breathes, staying close enough that their lips brush again. Buck surges up and uses his grip on Eddie’s hips to turn them, pinning Eddie against the counter as he kisses him again in response. Once, twice, three times, and Eddie shivers.

He hasn’t been kissed in so long, hasn’t been touched with intention like this—he’d forgotten what it felt like. His body floods with heat as Buck’s hands slip under his shirt, spreading wide over his rib cage, and he parts his lips eagerly for Buck’s tongue.

Down the hall, a door closes, and Buck jumps back, Eddie slumping against the counter to keep himself upright. Buck is flushed and panting and Eddie’s pretty sure he can’t look much better, too warm and electric, wanting, wanting, wanting—

Both of them catch their breath and watch the door, but Christopher doesn’t appear. After a minute Eddie catches the faint sound of a toilet flushing and he looks back at Buck.

And he laughs. It bubbles up from his chest like champagne fizz, bright and warm and right, and apparently it’s contagious because Buck starts up as well, stepping in again and sliding his arms around Eddie’s waist, ducking his head to laugh breathlessly against Eddie’s neck.

When they calm down, Buck stays close, his lips feathering over Eddie’s pulse. Eddie hums and closes his eyes as he tips his head back to give Buck better access.

“I’m in love with you,” he says. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Buck’s lips curve up against Eddie’s skin.

“Well that’s convenient,” he replies. “Since Chris was asking me earlier why you couldn’t just date me if you were going to date again.”

Eddie’s startled into another laugh. “Really?”

“Really.”

Eddie grins and opens his eyes again. “Hey Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Go out with me?”

Buck snorts and pushes him out of the way so he can go back to the potatoes.

“Help me finish getting dinner together and we’ll see.” But the second Eddie turns away, Buck snags him by a belt loop and reels him back in for another kiss.

“Yes,” Buck says. “Yes.”

And it’s right.

#chapel writes #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #911 fic

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mah-gah-lee · 3 years

Text

You’re such a bitch - (Charlie Gillespie x reader)

Word Count: 2486 Request: no, again @jatpsmut inspired me with his fic “What Happens in Hawaii Stays in Hawaii - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (SMUT - 18+)”. I asked her if I could use the Hawaii idea and now I am writing this!

However, some details change from the original fic:

“Charlie and y/n haven't been best friends since they were kids, but from the first season of jatp. y/n is an additional actor on Julie and the Phantoms, also a dancer. Charlie didn't confess his feelings to y/n in Hawaii.

The only thing I got from the idea of @jatpsmut is the fact that something happened in Hawaii. So thank you to her for writing this incredible fic, without it this could not happen Summary: You and Charlie were best friends and roommates in LA. One evening, you heard it with a girl, the next morning, everything is awkward, bitchy and everything changes. Warnings: mention of sexual activities - language disclaimer: I don't know Charlie or his family personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Charlie's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…). All of this is not the reality

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics @standingtalllove @lukeys-giggle @happinessinthedarkesttimes if you want to be tagged in my next fic let me know !

---

You try to focus on the TV show you were watching, but obviously your roommate had company. And that company was way too loud in your opinion. You were rolling your eyes in annoyance when suddenly your phone vibrates, displaying the blonde head of your second best friend. If there was one thing you miss since you came back to live to Los Angeles, it was obviously living with this sarcastic character. Vancouver seemed so far away to you. You picked up your phone and Owen's face appeared.

“Hi sweetie.” Owen told you with a smile “Oh, hey… Why that face?” he clearly noticed your annoyance. "Hi O." you said before complaining "Ugh, I miss living with you in Vancouver so much" "Yeah me too. We had so much fun. But hey, I'm sure we'll have a season two." "I hope so much"

You were an extra cast member on Julie and the Phantoms, you also were a dancer on the first season, just as Tori. You wished so much Owen was right about Jatp season 2 renew but Netflix seemed to enjoy making you patient. But the coronavirus had also literally messed up all your plans. However, you were angry, some series came out long after yours and got renewed while yours stayed on hold. It was clear that fans of the series as much as you were just waiting for the renewal of season two.

A moan came out of Charlie's bedroom with the sound of a bouncing mattress, you rolled your eyes again, groaning with a sort of anger.

"Jesus Christ ..." you complained "Wait, y/n, what's that sound?" “You know what I miss most about living with you in Vancouver O’? Rule #3. " “Rule #3? Rule #3" he seemed to think about what you said when he finally realized "Oh ... Oh! Rule #3! Wait.. Oh my God! Is Charlie being with a chick right now? ” He asked you with stupefaction. "Oh I wish you were wrong"

A laugh came out from you best friend mouth and you gave him a killer look through the screen, making him laugh harder. When you were in Vancouver, living with two boys forced you to set limits and rules for living. The first was; everyone cleans up their own mess. Second, the housework takes turns. Third rule: no one-night stand allowed in the flat. Surprisingly as it may seem, this rule had been followed very well by everyone. But at the same time, the boys' schedules really didn't make time to bring anyone home, and then after all, they were professional. But as soon as Charlie returned from his parents' quarantine, he forgot the existence of this rule, as if it did not apply to Los Angeles. It wasn't like he brought a different girl home every night, or even every month. It might have been the second or third time since you had moved in. But this situation embarrassed you more than you might have thought.

“Owen, don't make fun of me. I've been hearing them for about an hour now. " "Poor you. Now you understand how I felt in Hawaii" he smirked at you. "Wait, what did you say?" you asked him, in shocked. "Oh please y/n ... you heard me clearly"

Of course, you had heard what he said, but you were in shock at the revelation, so you needed confirmation. This story was supposed to be a secret between you and Charlie. The fact that Owen mentioned it could only assume two things.

"Did you hear us in Hawaii?" “I was in the room next door! Of course, I heard you. It's not like you and Charlie are the quietest couple ever having sex ... " "It seems Charlie is the loudest one…" you said, referring to your best friend having sex in the next bedroom. "Oh darling please, I can remind you of what you said that night. You two gave me nightmares." "Please don't. I feel so embarrassed right now"

Last year you went to Hawaii with several cast members and Kenny. A booking error forced you to share a bed with Charlie. It seemed that sleeping with a girl seemed more adequate than two boys sleeping in the same bed. Charlie and Owen had avoided that possibility the second the problem had arisen. One thing leading to another, after a few strong cocktails, you and the dark-haired boy had ended up having a horny night. The shame caused the next day made you both never talk about it again and "what happened in Hawaii will stay in Hawaii". You didn’t know that Owen heard you and it seems that boy can keep a secret for so long now.

The problem was that that night you realized that you felt more than an attraction to your roommate. It went beyond friendship or mere sexual tension at the sight of this Canadian. You wanted every aspect of what you might have experienced with Charlie and more: the laughs, the funny times, the lots of talking, the quiet times watching a movie or just playing Nintendo Switch, the sex. But you also wanted the PDAs, the feelings, just being with him like his girlfriend. But the actor was totally oblivious to your feelings for him, and you didn't even want to try to make him understand it on his own. You just created a shell for yourself and buried your feelings deep within yourself.

“I don’t understand y/n. Why didn’t you tell him your feeling?” “Because I know he doesn’t love me back, O.” “Oh come on! You two are the most stubborn people I ever met!”

Again, for the third time tonight, you've rolled your eyes. You were pretty sure Charlie didn't feel the same way you did. Since Hawaii, neither of you had stepped forward towards each other, but sometimes your behaviors showed that you were more than friends. Another moan was heard from Charlie’s room and Owen's face on the screen was memorable. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were red.

"Okay, y/n. I'm sorry but I don't want to keep talking to you and hear my other best friend hooking up at the same time ..."

You laughed and he hung up the phone not forgetting to say goodbye. You tried to focus on your screen again, your headphones being way too far away for you to catch them. Minutes later you finally heard the distinctive sound of Charlie's orgasm and knew you were finally going to be able to sleep.

…

The next morning you woke up with a high level of fatigue. You casually walk to the kitchen to make coffee. While you were pouring yourself a cup of this much-desired black liquid, a person entered the kitchen.

"Who the fuck are you?"

You raised an eyebrow, bringing your mug to your lips. The girl looked at you with a disgusted face.

"Roommate, darling. Not nice to meet you." "Why the hell are you wearing his shirt?"

A smirk appears on your lips, far too happy that she asked the question. When you were in Vancouver, it wasn't surprising to see you wearing the boys' t-shirts, although you had a preference for Charlie's, there were times when you wore Owen's. The boys never complained about this mania and you had to continue when you moved to Los Angeles with Charlie. The scene was pretty funny, you were there drinking your coffee in a t-shirt borrowed from your roommate while his conquest from last night stared at you in disgust, decked out in another Charlie t-shirt. You took a look at the Looney Tunes t-shirt you were wearing and just shrug your shoulders.

“Old habits.” You simply said. "Yeah, you're gonna have to break this habit."

You laughed disdainfully. You didn't like this girl. Not because it was the conquest of your best friend for whom you had blatant romantic feelings. But rather because she had this condescension and believed that spending a night with Charlie gave her every right.

"What makes you think that, sweetie?"

You leaned against the kitchen counter, your posture offhand, a smirk on your lips. You weren't used to being such a bitch, but the girl in front of you pissed you off. And it was only nine in the morning.

"Well, hello, I spent the night with Charlie." "Oh yeah sure, but that doesn't mean you're dating him." "Charlie is a great guy"

She wasn't wrong. Charlie wasn't heartbroken but he was still human and a twenty-two-year-old boy. Just looking at her you knew your best friend hadn't chosen her for a serious relationship with her. The little conversation you were having with her now confirmed that he couldn't date her. Another smirk spread across your lips as she looked at you with disdain again.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? You are nowhere near his level" she said to you

This time, you couldn't help but laugh sarcastically. Yeah, she really pissed you off. Physically, she was everything Charlie didn't like about a potential girlfriend: big breasts, much bigger than him, slightly shallow. Oh but she had a fucking ass and maybe that was why he had chosen her. Her whole body reflected Charlie's choice for a one-night stand, but not the ideal girlfriend.

"Oh honey, I'm nobody, but neither are you. Listen. You were just a one-night stand and me? Me, I'll still be here in his apartment with his t-shirts on when he brings you home, telling you that it was cool but that it will not go further. I will always be there ... "

Charlie woke up and headed straight for the kitchen. He greeted her conquest with a nod, giving her a hello. Instinctively, he approached you and put his hand on your waist before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. Charlie was tactile, it was his language of love. You couldn't help but smirk at the girl, giving her a victorious look. The actor looked at your outfit and a smile appeared on his lips.

"So that's where it was! I thought I lost it in the Galapagos." he was referring to his looney tunes t-shirt

Your attention fell on Charlie and you smiled happily at him. You cheekily handed your cup of coffee.

"Coffee?" "Hell, yeah"

He grabbed your cup and took a long sip, leaving his conquest almost nonexistent to his eyes. The girl was so pissed off that she seemed to be boiling. She cleared her throat, annoyed.

"Hmm, I'm going to go" she said. "Oh wait, let me have lunch and I'll bring you back if you want." "It won't be necessary."

You bit the tip of your tongue, amused, far too happy to hide it. Charlie's conquest returned to his room to get dressed. Your roommate turned to you and gave you a questioning look.

"y/n, what did you do?" "Nothing. We were happily getting know each other. I'm surprised at your choice, by the way" "Are you getting revenge?" "Get revenge for what?" "Since ... Hawaii, you've scared all the girls I've brought back." "Did I scare them? Stop, I haven't acted any differently than usual." “You scared them away,” he repeated. "Oh come on, Charlie, please, it's not like you're going to date them."

He pulled away from you with a look of dismay. You were not wrong, he had never called back the girls he had brought back here, he did not intend to call back the one who was currently in his room. In fact, the only person he really wanted to spend time with was you. But since Hawaii, you seemed to be okay with never mentioning your night together again. This Canadian boy has been in love with you for months, maybe even years now. It quickly fell for you when you were in Vancouver.

"You're right. But I could have ..." he finally confessed "It's wrong. You know it's wrong Charlie, I know you, I'm your best friend. These are not the kind of girls you date. "Yeah… I couldn't date any of them. They just aren't you." He said, his last sentence ending in a whisper before hastening to take a sip from your cup of coffee.

You were paralyzed. Did he really just say what you've been dreaming of hearing for months? Did he just drop it like a bomb, in the middle of a morning conversation between sips of coffee?

“Wait, what?” “Nothing” “It wasn’t nothing, Charlie, you said something” “Nothing important” he repeats “Did you just say that if you didn’t date those girls it’s because they weren’t me?” “You seems to hear voices” “Charlie, I’m not joking… Did you say that?!” “Maybe” “Oh fuck, you’re an idiot!” “I am a..”

You snatched the cup of coffee from her hands and hurriedly put it on the counter. Never mind about the stains on the floor, you will clean up later. You didn't want to miss a second of this possibility. You wrapped your arms around Charlie's neck before resting your lips on his. Your best friend seemed surprised at first so much but quickly relaxed and wrapped his own arms around your waist as your lips moved to give the kiss more tender. The situation was most strange and funny; you were kissing your best friend, running your fingers through his long brown hair. You had to admit that even though you had found him attractive with his Luke's look but you couldn't imagine Charlie without that impressive mass of hair. Luke had short hair, Charlie had long hair. End of the discussion.

So, you were kissing your roommate, making up for lost time while in his room, a girl he had fucked the night before gathered her things. Charlie's conquest stepped out to head for the exit. You broke the kiss making Charlie growl in protest.

"I'm not showing you where the door is." you said. "whore .." the chick whispered.

Charlie stepped away from you and brought his one-night stand to the door, apologizing. He wasn't that kind of boy to go from girl to girl and the circumstances were really strange. The girl left, not without forgetting to curse him. When Charlie walks into the kitchen, you were sitting on the counter, a smirk on your face.

"You're such a bitch y/n" “It's my revenge for keeping me awake last night.”

His gaze was sly, his smile was mischievous and you knew he was going to find a phrase worthy of the fucking boy he could be.

"I can keep you awake for a while if you want." “A date wouldn't be too complicated, Charlie. Please be a gentleman. "You can count on me"

He gave you a softer look and you wrapped your arms around his neck again before kissing him. Ultimately, not everything that happened in Hawaii has to be restricted to Hawaii.

#charlie gillespie #charles gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #jatp #jatp cast x reader #jatp fic #jatp cast imagine #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #julie and the phantoms

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legends-live-in-memories · 3 years

Text

Downtown Detour

ayo its ya boi back with more timari and ignoring my wips cuz im plagued with timari brainrot

written in the same au as:

Rooftop Rendezvous and

Alleyway Altercation (NSFW)

AO3 link to the series

Timari 2.2K words, no warnings other than references to intimate relations

Summary:

“Red Robin makes a breakthrough in his investigation of the new Gotham Rogue and goes to confront her about it.”

without further ado

Tim could not believe this. The new Rogue, Karma—Marinette Dupain-Cheng— had been spotted a total of three times since their last encounter by either his brothers or the cops and none have been able to subdue her for more than fleeting seconds. She was caught breaking into a politician’s house when the man was away on another one of his exotic hunting trips; another artefact was stolen from the museum after that, one they were unable to retrieve; and finally she was last seen escaping from Robin by the mayor’s office, only no one know what was taken from there. All three times she was spotted and nothing to show for it other than bruised egos and missing items.

During his little investigation into her supposed civilian name, he came across a series of interesting police reports from Paris, France of all places. A penchant for grand theft auto since her teenage years as well as a series of vandalism and reports of stolen student records from her high school at the time. There was even a rescinded expulsion, a litany of suspensions and a plethora of unexcused absences. She was a cookie cutter criminal in the making. But for Tim, it didn’t make sense. While all the evidence points to a child delinquent grown into an adult criminal, something about the situation set Tim’s teeth on edge. There was something missing. Something she wanted Tim to find out, if her giving him her name was anything to go by. But what?

She had no local address on file and the last piece of legal information that had any traceable location was a one-way ticket to Shanghai from four years ago. Immediately after her high school graduation. All her social media was deleted around the same time. She had effectively gone off the grid up until her emergence as a part of Gotham less than stellar night life. But why?

A closer look at her time in Paris led him to discover an interesting trend but it wasn’t anything concrete. Starting about when Karma—Marinette— was thirteen, her unexcused absences lined up with some of their infamous akuma attacks. While at first it could be argued that many children had unexcused absences in the beginning, and she had less than perfect attendance even before then, her disappearances also coincided with attacks far from her school which was where she should have been at those times. Then there were reports filed by police who spoke with her parents about her sneaking out at night which also lined up with notable akuma attacks. Either she was an overzealous fan of the city’s temporary heroes, or she was constantly in the thick of the action and kept it a secret from people close to her, letting her reputation suffer for it.

‘Trust me, I know all about acting in the name of the greater good. The good-girl act got tiring after a few years,’ she had said. ‘Much more rewarding to give into your own self-interests,’ she continued. ‘Something you could try emulating.’

Her words echoed in his mind. He never thought much of them before, his mind preoccupied with other things her mouth was doing that night. It could also be chalked up to everyone being the hero of their own story and she had just coloured her own experiences. But just maybe…

Before he could entertain that train of thinking, his phone alarm was alerting him of his scheduled patrol. Hopefully he could catch a hold of his current person of interest and get some more answers. And perhaps get a read on what her intentions are in this city. With him.

~~~~~~~~

The skyline was a welcoming sight as he flung himself from building to building. The wind beneath him carried him across the sky like an actual bird and the thrill of the freefall lit his nerves on fire. His route was quiet but his appearance should coax out a certain thief. Red Hood was investigating a weapons smuggling deal that was set to take place by the Gotham Harbour. Nightwing was back in Bludhaven with Signal, introducing him to nighttime patrol. Robin and Black Bat were tracking a drug deal that was rumoured to disrupt the balance of the Narrows. Spoiler was with Batman doing their regular routes and Batwoman was doing her own thing somewhere. Oracle, as always, was on standby on comms and monitoring everything. This was the perfect opportunity for Karma to strike so Red Robin just had to be patient. The night was young.

An hour into his sweep of the city and Oracle was patching him into a radio call about a break-in in some pawnshop back in the Fashion District. It wasn’t on his route tonight but Oracle figured that with their likely suspect, and his arrangement with her, he was their best shot at apprehending her. If only temporarily.

He arrived at the pawnshop without fanfare and found the storefront window broken into. Further inspection led him face to face with the object of his affection. Karma was posed calmly behind the cashier counter rifling through an assortment of jewelry that was left on display in the glass cases. It was only the faint twitch in her eyebrow that indicated her awareness of his presence. Other than that he went completely ignored. That won’t do. Not tonight. He approached her slowly and stopped on the other side of the counter, leaning into her space. He could faintly smell her rose-scented perfume. Her strawberry shampoo. Even the cherry lip gloss she wears under the mask. He’s tasted it enough times to know how strong it was. For a vision clad in black she was rather fond of red flavours.

“Can I help you, Tweety Bird?” her voice was soft, sprinkled with faux indifference, not wanting to disrupt the background noise of rings and necklaces clanking together. She hasn’t looked at him once.

“Breaking and entering and attempted theft are serious crimes, Karma.” He saw a faint twitch of amusement in her eyebrow but her posture was relaxed and non-assuming.

“That’s not why you’re here. That’s not why I’m here either.” Her eyes sweep up to him as she stops searching the jewelry. She’s staring intently at him as if he’s to understand the meaning behind the words she’s not saying. He does. They’ve played this back and forth before. Danced their little tango of push and pull.

“You wanted to see me then? Thought this was the best way to get my attention, hmm?” He leaned in, pressing his weight more into the counter. She matched his advance and propped her face in the palm of her hand. Her finger tapped on her mask. He figured if the accessory wasn’t there she’d be biting that finger instead.

“Well it worked. Didn’t it? You’re here after plenty of time to conduct a rather thorough investigation into who I am. Or was.” She took off the mask, finally, and he was right. Her lips were shining in the dim light of the night with the familiar hues of her lip gloss. He presses on to not let himself get distracted by the slight smile on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng. Paris, born and raised. Above average student in terms of grades but a disciplinary streak about a hundred miles wide.” At this her head tilts in amusement. Her faint nod encourages him to divulge all the aspects of his research. “Absences and tardies more often than any recorded presences. About twelve suspensions in the span of three years and a rescinded expulsion when you were about fourteen. A couple run-ins with the police in regards to charges of theft and property destruction.” Her face scrunched in an adorable pout at that as if it were a reminder of an embarrassing moment and not outlines of criminal offenses.

“Definitely not my finer moments, I assure, but keep going. You’re doing so well,” she interrupted him. She had shifted so that she could jump over the counter and sit atop it, her legs crossed and her arms bearing her weight behind her. Red Robin was temporarily silenced by the arch in her back and the lean lines of her exposed neck. He rose to his full height; just barely reaching her shoulder, due to her new vantage point.

“You disappeared after your high school graduation, my investigation says you ran off to Shanghai but I believe there’s more to it than that.” She had uncrossed her legs to accommodate him between them and drew him closer by his shoulders. Acting on instinct, his arms found purchase on her waist and he was brushing the pad of his gloved thumb across the exposed skin. It was uncharacteristically soft but neither heeded mind to it.

“You think there’s more to me than that?” She leans in, almost breathing the same air as him. “You’d be the first,” she continued while snaking a hand up his neck to scratch lightly at his scalp. The touch sent shivers down his spine and had his toes curling in anticipation.

“So tell me then,” he licked his lips and stared at her through the film of his mask. “What is Paris’s Lady Luck doing here causing mischief in Gotham?” The question was a gamble and could upset the rapport he had with Karma. He was the team’s only lead on her, for better or worse, and he didn’t want to ruin whatever it was between them.

It was probably the right thing to say though, because she hasn’t left him yet but instead was staring at him with something indescribable in her eyes. Excitement? Approval? Affection? Red Robin wasn’t sure what to make of the glimmer of emotion in her eyes other than to take it as a good sign.

“You got this far in your investigation, Tweety Bird,” she leaned in closer, just a hair’s width away. “Why ruin the chase and tell you everything now?” Her lips were brushing against his as she spoke and the cherry flavour was almost distracting. His tongue peaked out to swipe a stronger taste. The arms around her waist tightened and he pulled her to the edge of the counter, her legs wrapping around him on instinct.

“Surely you could reward me for figuring out this much, right?” His voice was pitched so low if she wasn’t already breathing in his words he would have worried that she didn’t hear him. “After all, it’s not everyday someone discovers the identity of the allusive Ladybug.”

“The bird wants a reward, does he?” She finally sealed his lips with hers, stealing any half-baked retort he might have had. This kiss was different from the multitude they’ve exchanged in their times together, carrying over the unanswered emotions from their last encounter and introducing new ones into the mix. The air felt still and cool on his face and the fingers in his hair tightened even further.

They were like that for what felt like hours but was merely a few minutes; just calmly exchanging kisses, nothing straying beyond that silently defined line. They didn’t need anymore for tonight. Karma had taken to progress this further by trailing her lips to the sharp cut of his jaw. She alternated between small kisses and even smaller bites as she made her way up to his ear. Her breath was warm against the shell of his ear and he leaned into the faint contact. A lick and a bite later, her lips were curled up into a smirk as her hand in his hair held him in place.

They stayed like that for moments lost to time. Neither making the next move, nerves buzzing with anticipation. He felt an itch for more that only she could scratch and she was denying him that satisfaction. Despite that he made no inclination to instigate more, letting the ball stay in her court. After more silent minutes he felt rather than heard her chuckle against his ear. She jumped off the counter, pressing every curve of her body against his. Even then, he unconsciously tried to pull her closer, pressing her against his front and the tempered glass of the counter. Before he could do as he pleased with his new leverage, she wiggled out of his grasp and moved towards the broken storefront window, mask in hand.

“It was great to see you tonight,” she throws a glance over her shoulder, readjusting the mask over the lower half of her face. “And I’m glad my assumptions of you were right.”

“What assumptions? What do you mean?” The confusion was almost palpable beneath the traces of cherries. He moved to reach for her, to keep her here for a bit longer. To explain herself. To not leave him. She evaded his grasp and leapt out the broken window. From outside the building she turned to him and aimed what was clearly Red Robin’s grappling hook out to the nearest building.

Instead of answering him she chuckled and tilted her head in amusement at his growing distress.

“See you around, Tim.” Her parting words were lost to the air as she shot off with the grapple into the night. Red Robin stood frozen, rooted in place at the use of his civilian name. How did she know? Who exactly did he decide to get entangled with? Among the cacophony of new questions one thing was for certain.

He was utterly fucked.

#maribat #timari #timinette #ml x dc #this is tame to others in this little mini series #tumblr dont fucking try me #surprisingly NOT hornknee hours #i know i surprised myself with this one too

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mfkinanaa · 3 years

Text

LIBRA RISING.

Born with Libra on your Ascendant (or Rising), life is likely to be experienced as a constant series of choices.

It is important for you to consider everything from its various points of view.

Deliberation may be your hallmark, and eventually justice your middle name.

Libra is an Air sign, concerned with fairness, equality and right relationships.

Thus, you are likely to feel the need to be objective in all your dealings, and will specialise in relationships.

However the need to consider all perspectives may be somewhat crippling if a decision or resolution cannot be reached.

Reflective judgement with a committment to equity is the key note for you.

Your task is to find the right principle involved in a given situation, and then commit to it – maintaining your position without changing your mind.

Shall I Do This Or That?

When your Ascendant is Libra, the temptation to change your mind is ever-present. This can lead to vacillation, indecisiveness and a tendency to fence-sit when a choice is not made. You need to become aware of any intrinsic desire to avoid making a decision, as this will lead to others seeing you as fickle, and even opportunistic, rather than the finely balanced, fair-minded individual that you truly are.

You may be easily imposed upon because of a tendency to avoid openly stating what you really want. You yourself are likely to feel frustrated by this inability to choose. It is important to reflect on this and admit to yourself what your true motives are. Are you seeking others approval by avoiding action? Do stop yourself doing what you know is right in case someone else disagrees?

The Need To be Liked.

Often, the desire to be liked, and a willingness to please others can lead you to “people-please”, rather than commit to what is right or fair. In order to guard against this tendency, a reliable, fair and objective system of values needs to be established. You would do well to be guided by principle rather than popularity in the choices that you make.

A balance should be found between activity and passivity, between head and heart, intuition and logic. Negotiation through charm and objectivity is your forte, and you can help bring about resolution through a balanced assessment of facts.

You need to experience both confrontation and compromise to find out what is important to you. Thus, you can be both principled and assertive, willing to compromise yet clear in your objectives once you have decided on what you want. At your best, you are able to express the grace, poise and consideration which is characteristic of this sign.

Harmony and Balance.

Symmetry, proportion and balance are also important, and you are likely to prefer harmonious, refined or well-designed environments. You need to be surrounded by beauty and will function best in an organized and aesthetic space. Harmony is important for your mental balance.

You are also likely to be quite refined, with a sense of style that is often innate. It may be important for you to project a stylish appearance, and so, you may also be very fashion conscious.

The search for the ideal system, relationship or ideal can lead you into many areas of interest and exploration. This is a mental sign after all, so that information is a key theme. You are also probably known for your listening and negotiation skills, and ability to give good advice. This is the sign of wise counsel, and your capacity to make a detached assessment of any situation is likely to be highly esteemed.

The Gift of Libra Rising.

Relationships are a major concern, and you will get the best from your partnerships when you learn to first define who you are, and what you need, before then making any necessary compromises to keep things agreeable. Libra is the sign of partnerships, and you may feel that you need others to be able to fulfill yourself. Doing things collaboratively brings your best qualities to the surface. You may find it easiest working toward a goal when you have someone else to do it with. Through relationships, you learn to assert yourself, adjust to others, and to stand up for the principles which you believe are fair.

SCORPIO RISING.

Born with Scorpio on your Ascendant (or Rising) you are likely to experience life as a constant series of obstacles or crises in which you learn about the nature of power through transformation.

Whilst this may seem challenging, once understood in terms of a life lesson, you have the potential to be an inspirational and catalytic individual.

Your strength and insight gives you the ability to change your own life and help others overcome whatever is holding them back.

On the one hand, this is a difficult Ascendant.

On the other it offers you a magnetic and charismatic quality that makes you fascinating to others and deeply perceptive.

There is much in the experience of Scorpio Rising that involves learning to transform yourself and others through episodes of conflict, challenge and subsequent letting go.

Finding the Light Within.

When your Ascendant is Scorpio, a confrontation with that which is dark, hidden, destructive and taboo in your own nature is often required. Despite your best intentions, you may need to deal with negative, toxic and obsessive emotional states that seem to plague you.

Such destructive qualities need to be internally transformed by being acknowledged, accepted and brought into the light.

You may also meet the same qualities in others. You could find yourself confronting darkness in the outside world through facing extreme situations, or attracting negativity to yourself. Whilst your nature is inherently good, you are learning to experience both the positive and negative aspects of life.

Through overcoming difficult situations you find your strength and light.

The Eighth Labour of Hercules.

The themes which present with this sign on the Ascendant can be described by the mythic tale of Hercules battling the much-feared Hydra, a demonic creature of the Underworld with ten heads and a deadly bite.

The Eighth Labour of Hercules tells the story of how he overcame the beast. Victory required submission rather than brute force. Every time Hercules cut one head off, another would appear.

To overcome the Hydra, Hercules had to follow the guidance of his teacher – “We rise by kneeling, we conquer by surrendering, and we gain by giving up”. This experience could be described as the quintessential lesson for those with Scorpio rising.

The Curse of Jealousy.

Jealousy is often an issue, especially in the early part of life. You may find yourself envious of others apparent power, beauty or success – with no rational explanation as to why.

This destructive emotion can alienate you from others, generating friction that needs to be released. Envy pulls you down and can trigger a nasty backlash. If not released, resentment and associated feelings fester within, rearing their ugly heads at inopportune times with a powerful and destructive force. Internal pressure slowly builds until an explosion occurs.

Just like the Hydra, toxic emotions can only be conquered through submission. This means letting go of negativity and aligning yourself with something greater than your personal desires. Humility and self-acceptance is required.

You may find yourself oscillating between hopeful and hopeless responses to your feelings and external stimuli. You can unconsciously create dramatic events in your life which trigger catalytic personal experiences as you discover more about your true self.

Sometimes, situations of disability and impairment come about, so that the fear of helplessness or restriction is materialised. These challenges then become the opportunity for you to experience surrender, learning eventually to open up and trust others.

Private & Sensitive.

Private by nature, you are likely to give very little away about yourself until you know who you can trust. Others may not be sure of your true intentions. They may find you somewhat inscrutable, mysterious or just hard to read. You are likely to play your cards very close to your chest.

Rather than being secretive, you are self-protective.

Your acute sensitivity to environmental influences means you try to avoid exposing yourself and feeling vulnerable in any way. For you, letting others know how sensitive you really are means giving them a kind of power you are not sure you want to give.

You are often extremely aware of the underlying emotional currents surrounding you. This sign is extremely perceptive. You can easily pick up on another’s mood, and will sense how they feel – sometimes before they do.

You will also have a knack for exposing hidden intentions, and will need to dig deep to uncover the underlying psychological motives in any important situation with which you are involved.

You will also be aware of others potential to be deceptive, abusive and less than truthful, and so you can be at times disarmingly honest. Most often, your preferred form of attack is defence, and so you keep yourself to yourself.

You are generally quite content therefore to wait while others reveal who they truly are to you.

Careful in Relationship.

With a warm and passionate heart, you are likely to respond intensely to significant relationships, and it will be especially important for you to find a partner you can trust. You do best with calm, placid yet strong lovers who are able to withstand the intensity of your emotional reactions, and your need to work them out through others.

When you have committed your heart to someone, you are loyal, giving and devoted. You need someone who is stable enough to ride any emotional storms and patient enough to give you the security you need.

In many ways you might take an “all or nothing” stance with affairs of the heart. You need time to get to know someone so won’t be inclined to rush in. Even if you do form a connection quickly, you will probably withhold parts of yourself. You need to know your partner is “all in” before you can trust them.

Or you could try avoid intimacy because it means you have to let your guard down. For this reason, you can be hard to get close to, as your self-protective mechanisms are very strong.

This can mean you end up remaining on your own, leaving others feeling uncertain as to where you stand but safely at a distance.

The Fires of Transformation.

Once the necessary transformations have come about, you then become a powerful catalyst or agent for change in your own and others lives.

You have the ability to renew and rebuild your life, and can show others how to do the same. Negative states can be transformed and redirected through internal processes. A creative outlet, some form of therapy, a mystical experience or an intense sexual exchange can serve as the means to refine these energies.

As you let go of pain and open up to light you find strength and wisdom within.

You are likely to have a penetrating kind of insight that makes you a valued confidante and friend. You have great compassion for others, but will not suffer fools. You are also likely to be patient, persevering and reliable, and can be a source of strength in times of need.

Your desire for truth means you may sometimes have to employ shock tactics to instigate change. Usually this is not to be upsetting, but rather because you know sometimes you have to say the things that others will not in order to shake up the status quo.

Your highly developed emotional intelligence can make you privy to others’ secrets. When you share vulnerabilities with others you also learn to let go of your own fear of being overwhelmed.

The Gift Of Scorpio Rising.

Yours is an intense rising sign, with the potential to experience great rewards. You have come to learn the secrets of resurrection and rebirth through experiencing transformation in certain areas of your life. Once you learn the techniques of inner growth by finding your power within you then have the capacity to become an incredible force for change.

SAGITTARIUS RISING.

Born with Sagittarius on your Ascendant (or Rising) you are likely to experience your life as a quest, challenge or search for adventure where the prize you seek is meaning.

Self-awareness comes about through expanding your horizons – at either physical, mental or spiritual levels.

You are likely to approach new experiences with a sense of optimism and hope – an expectation of success.

The dynamic, fiery qualities of this rising sign need to be directed toward reconciling some of the metaphysical and philosophical quandaries of life.

In your quest for meaning, you should leave no stone unturned.

The Search for Meaning.

When your Ascendant is Sagittarius, every situation can be viewed as an opportunity to learn. You are likely to feel a sense of restlessness and need to have the freedom to roam, explore horizons and see how far you can go. This might happen at physical, mental or spiritual levels.

At times, your life could feel like a pilgrimage, where the need to find the holy grail of your own “truth” is paramount. A way to express this approach might be – “I see the goal; I reach the goal, and then I see another”.

Gifted with energy and inspiration, you are often able to inspire and uplift others. You are typically broad-minded and so happy to let everyone live their own lives. Charged with faith and optimism, you can look for symbolic meaning wherever you go, finding portents in life’s circumstances and omens to guide you on your way. Usually, every event is seen as part of a larger, connected whole. You find meaning in patterns and serendipity at every turn.

Times of Excess.

Yet there may also be times where you allow your faith to dwindle. If you fail to find the answers you seek you can become despondent and cynical in the extreme. You must be careful not to set yourself up for crushing disappointment by setting expectations that are unrealistic or too big to achieve.

Added to this, there may also be a tendency toward excess, inflation and overstepping the mark. Your exuberance and optimism can sometimes turn to greed, recklessness or a lack of due care. Your tendency to go to extremes goes hand in hand with a belief in your own invincibility and need to push boundaries in terms of what is possible. It is worthwhile checking in at times to see if you have in fact gone too far – despite the fact that you want to.

Sharing your Truth.

If your Ascendant is Sagittarius, you need to find your truth on your own terms, and there may be an extended period of searching for the right path, teaching or philosophy to satisfy your quest. You may spend significant chapters of your life travelling or immersed in a particular belief system, exploring ideas and concepts to their broadest level.

You are likely to be passionate about the pursuit of knowledge, and so it is important to allow yourself plenty of opportunity to explore new horizons, and broaden your sphere of reference.

Once you have found a path that fulfils, you can become so enthusiastic that you want to share with everyone else what you know. You are eager to teach others what you have learnt. Many excellent teachers have this sign pronounced in their charts.

Yet some of you can turn to preaching and even zealotry in your eagerness to share. There may be times when you go to extremes in your efforts to recruit others to your particular belief system. Care should be taken to extend to others the same intellectual, moral or personal freedom that you require for yourself.

In this way, you can manifest the darker side of Sagittarius, trying to co-opt others into agreeing with your version of the truth. Cynical disbelief can be equally vehement as optimistic faith. In the end you will find that trying to convert others is an ultimately futile preoccupation.

The Gift of Sagittarius Rising.

With Sagittarius rising, life is best viewed as a quest and adventure. Faith and a positive attitude are your greatest assets. You are likely to approach life in a grand way, excited by possibilities and certain of your right to experience them. Using your innate gifts of insight and perception gives you the ability to inspire and uplift others, helping them become the best that they can be by lighting the fire of meaning and purpose all around.

#astroworld #astrology #astrotips #libra rising #scorpio rising #sagittarius rising

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duskholland · 4 years

Text

The Fame Game (Part Three) || Tom Holland

Summary ↠ Sleepovers are supposed to be fun, but perhaps not when they include your fake boyfriend.

Word count ↠ 4.5k

Warnings ↠ Alcohol, some bad language, Tom’s shirtless? And also a lil bit jealous

A/N ↠ I decided that Y/N is in Stranger Things because... Joe Keery. You’re welcome. This was a fun part to write! Thank you so much to everyone that’s been loving on this series - makes my heart very very happy to know it’s being read and enjoyed :’) Please let me know what you think of this part! (This picks up directly after part two just with a pov shift)

Series masterpost

THREE: What’s Mine Is Yours (Y)

The studio lights burn your eyes painfully, and your throat has been stinging distantly of tequila ever since you took the first shot.

Jimmy’s been sending you question after question, analysing and picking apart every aspect of your ‘relationship’ with Tom for the past five minutes. So far, you and Tom have answered with your stories aligned, and you thank yourself for having the stroke of genius to go over some essential details with him before the show. If you’d just come out here and winged it, as he had foolishly suggested, you know you would’ve tripped up by now.

It’s all going as expected, until near the end of the interview when Tom’s words split through the air and shock you completely:

“Well, chemistry is a very important part of any relationship, Jimmy, and you know what they say: enemies make the best lovers.”

Enemies make the best lovers..?

Even as the conversation moves on, you feel the words lingering in your mind. Tom’s been playing the role of your doting boyfriend very well all evening, but there has been something a little too earnest about his eyes and his remarks, and it’s left you feeling… odd. Exposed, perhaps. He’s out here claiming that enemies make the perfect foundation to a loving relationship, and though you’re almost certain it was a throwaway comment, you can’t stop yourself from over-analysing it.

“Well, thank you to both of you for joining us tonight,” Jimmy says finally, dragging you from your stupor. “It’s been a pleasure, as always. I wish the happy couple all the best!”

You’re nestled up very close to Tom on the sofa. His hand is on your knee, and you’ve got your arm wrapped around his side. You hadn’t discussed any of this beforehand, but you’d followed his lead when he’d first stretched out his palm. Casual displays of intimacy, according to your PR team, are everything, and it’s been almost nice to have his fingers resting on your leg, acting as a grounding presence. Any time you said something a little risky, he’d squeeze your knee - and you likewise would use your hand on his side to pinch him gently, like a reminder to stop talking whenever he came close to slipping up.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Tom says. He looks around to face you, his brown eyes warm and round. “We’ve had a great time.”

You nod along and pull your hand away from Tom’s side as you sit up a little straighter. “Yeah, it’s been amazing.”

Jimmy throws out a few final farewells, and the audience descends into applause. As the bright sign that reads LIVE flickers out, the cameras stop rolling. Almost immediately, you feel lighter. With a loud groan, you stretch your arms out behind your head and collapse back into the sofa, your posture sagging. Besides you, Tom mirrors you, his legs spreading and his knee knocking against yours as you glance over and share a cautious smile.

“That went well, didn’t it?” You ask quietly. Jimmy’s wandered off, and around you, people are rolling up cables and wires. You can feel the eyes of some of the audience on you, so you reach down to play with his hand. Tom lets you fiddle with his fingers, and you gulp as you draw your fingertips across his soft skin.

“Yeah,” Tom agrees. His eyebrows furrow together as he looks at you curiously. “What was the question you answered with Harrison?”

You scoff. “That’s a secret.”

You’d almost died when you’d read the card. As much as you’d disliked the prospect of doing a shot, the question had read ‘Which of Tom’s friends would you consider dating?’. Though you feel no romantic attraction towards Harrison, he’s the only one of Tom’s friends you know. You couldn’t admit it to Tom live, because PR would have had your head, but you don’t particularly want to fess up now, either.

Tom’s always been a bit weird about your friendship with Harrison, and you don’t want to add more strain to your relationship. Maybe a month ago you would’ve loved to have another thing to rub in Tom’s face, but now things are changing. Your relationship is beyond twisted as it is, and much to your surprise, you no longer feel the burning need to exacerbate that - not now you know you’ll be tied to his side for the next five months. For all you thrive off Tom’s discomfort, it’s starting to take a toll.

Tom pouts, but there’s an intense heat to it. “Tell me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

You roll your eyes. “What was your first question?” You return. “The one that you replied to by saying I’m stubborn?”

Tom groans, and the illusion of him being a doting, sweet boyfriend shatters. A part of you is relieved he’s back to normal as he glares at you. Tom has been too nice to you this evening, and it was becoming a little unsettling.

“I won’t tell you mine unless you tell me yours,” he barters. Tom looks down at your joined hands and loops your fingers together, leaning in closer on the sofa so he can drop his voice. The strong waves of his cologne drift out over you, causing your mind to spin. “Oh, come on, girlfriend, we were getting on so well, just tell me? Please?” He even flutters his eyelashes.

You chuckle in the face of his charm. “No way.”

Tom pulls away, his jaw flexing. He drops your fingers dramatically. “Fine. Be like that.” He stands up quickly, but then he pauses and begrudgingly offers you a hand, his eyes skimming the busy room. He, like you, seems to recognise there is a time and place for your petty bickering. “Let me escort you backstage,” he says, voice dry and monotonous.

You sigh heavily. “You’re so annoying,” you tell him, accepting his hand. He helps you up with a strong grip, your fingers tangling together easily. “I almost bought the act that you were actually a decent guy tonight, y’know?”

Tom keeps your hands together as you slowly walk backstage. “I almost bought yours,” he returns, his voice quiet. “I suppose we’re both good actors, aren’t we?”

You set your mouth in a firm line. “I suppose we are.”

You don’t see him for a while, and for that, you’re very grateful. For a few weeks, it seems PR are satisfied with a few teasing tweets here and there, and you enjoy the freedom of living Tom-free again. It really is quite disruptive, having to parade around with him, and lie when your friends and family question you about him. It’s quick to grow tiresome as you have to explain, over and over, that, no, you don’t hate him - love just happened!! Yeah, he’s great! Oh, you always thought there was something going on between us? Haha. Hah. That’s so funny.

It’d be so much easier, you think, if you and Tom got along better. But you know the only way that’ll happen is if one of you apologies to the other, and you’re still too fucking angry about everything to let your walls come down. Your history spans three poisonous years, and you aren’t willing to start lowering your defences for fear of him using that against you. You’d rather suffer through several more months of torture with Tom than show any sort of regret or remorse. You will not be the first to place your cards on the table, which lands you in a difficult position because you know he isn’t the type to concede either. You’re so similar it almost hurts.

About a month after the show, you’re on set when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you pick up the small device to see Rebecca’s name flashing over the screen. With a sigh, you quickly answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi Y/N, it’s Rebecca. I hope you’re doing well.” There’s a brief pause, then, “So, we need you to do something for us tonight.”

You reach up to pinch at the bridge of your nose. “Always straight to the point, aren’t you?”

Your PR manager laughs. “Time is precious,” she reasons. “Anyway, we’ve been monitoring your socials. People find it odd that you’ve not posted anything with Tom, and we’ve realised that there is a shortage of photos of you both together.”

You hum. “Yeah, I don’t think we’ve ever had a photo together where it looks like we actually like one another.”

“Exactly. That’s a problem.”

“Great.”

“We’ve been in contact with Tom. He’s going to pick you up once you’re done on set, and then come and stay the night with you. You’ll be spotted entering your apartment together, and he’ll be seen leaving in the morning. Whilst you’re together, if you can try and take some photos, that’d be great. Try to build up a backlog of different shots, so you have some in reserves for the future.”

You throw your head back, biting back a dramatic groan. “He’s coming over tonight?” You clarify.

Rebecca sighs. “Yes, Y/N. Is that okay?”

“I suppose.”

“Perfect. He’ll pick you up from set at 5.”

The line disconnects and you put your phone away, trying not to think about how easily your quiet evening plans have been whipped away. You’re called back to set almost immediately, and that provides you with a perfect distraction. You slip on your mask, sinking into a different character, and you let all your worries and irritations fade away.

When Tom rocks up to set, you’re still filming. You catch him from the corner of your eye as you act opposite your co-star Joe Keery, carrying your banter perfectly. You love Joe - love the fact that both of you are wearing matching sailor costumes and somehow manage to rock them, and that your scenes always flow together very nicely. You’re having a great time together, and you feel sad when the director calls out a final Cut! and the cameras stop.

“Great scene, Y/N,” Joe compliments, reaching out to pat your shoulder.

You smile back at him, nodding lightly. “You too!” You say. “I’m going to miss filming with you.”

Joe nods, whipping the sailor hat from his head and running a hand through his long hair. “Me too,” he agrees, mouth curving into a frown, “Who else would dress up in these stupid costumes with me and not make fun of me?”

You laugh, but before you can form a full reply, you feel a figure lingering behind you. You tilt your head and see Tom there, and then feel his warm hands slip around your waist. It all happens so quickly - one moment he’s whispering hi, the next his fingers are wrapped around you and yours are on his shoulders, then he’s kissing you quickly. It’s just a peck, but it completely blindsides you, and you’re still recovering when he pulls back and looks at Joe.

“Hi, mate, I’m Tom,” he greets, his voice artificial and loud. “Y/N’s boyfriend.”

You look between them, your heart hammering in your chest as you retract your hands and let them fall to your side. Tom immediately links your fingers together.

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” Joe replies, eyeing you sceptically. He raises his eyebrows slightly as he accepts Tom’s free hand, and they shake slowly.

“All good things, I hope, eh?” Tom replies, glancing over to you. You raise your eyebrows, trying to figure out what he’s doing, but he just grins slyly in response.

“Eh, sure,” Joe says. Your friend rocks back on his feet, and you’re briefly reminded of the many, many occasions where you’d stormed onto set and ran your mouth about Tom. “Well, I’m gonna go now. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He raises a hand.

“Bye, Joe. Have a nice night.”

As soon as Joe’s slipped out of sight, you turn your attention to Tom.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, voice higher and quieter than usual. You pull your hand from his grasp, and it drifts up to your mouth, to where your lips are still feeling the aftershocks of the kiss. You stare at him through wide eyes. He’s in a lovely blue denim jacket today, and it contrasts brightly against his short styled hair and his deep brown eyes.

“Greeting my girlfriend?” Tom replies. He looks a little bashful as he folds his arms across his chest. “Is that a problem?”

Fuck, you hadn’t missed him at all.

“You kissed me,” you state.

“Briefly,” he agrees, “We’re in public, Y/N. It would’ve been weird if I hadn’t done anything. Plus…”

“Plus?”

Tom grimaces. “It felt a bit odd to see you so close to him.” He pauses, his face the picture of discomfort. “I didn’t like it.”

“You have got to be kidding, Tom,” you mutter, eyes widening. “Are you seriously being like this because I touched his arm? He’s my friend, dickhead.” You scrunch up your nose, eyeing him sourly. “You don’t have any right to act territorially, Tom. We aren’t actually dating.”

“Right.” Tom tentatively reaches up, and you let him place his hand on your cheek. It feels almost like an apology, and you find the lines of irritation melting from your face. As his fingertips gently trail across your cheekbone, your lips pull into a small smile. “I’m sorry if I took you off-guard,” he says, surprising you completely. You’d never thought you’d see the day he owned up to one of his actions. “I won’t kiss you again unless we talk about it first.”

You swallow drily, trying not to enjoy the way it feels to have his touch skating over your face so smoothly.

“Good,” you agree. You rock back on your feet and sigh defeatedly. “We should go.”

It’s a little after 7pm by the time you get home. You make light, superficial conversation with Tom in the car as you put up with his chiding remarks about your driving, and by the time you walk through your front door, you feel frazzled.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors,” you mutter as you walk into your living room and take a view of the mess.

“It’s fine.” Tom places his bag down on the sofa and looks around, greedy eyes taking in the details of your apartment. “It’s nice here.”

“Thanks.” You look around at your apartment, smiling quietly to yourself. The building is in downtown LA, right in the centre of things, and it wasn’t at all cheap, but over the years you’ve spent hidden away within the walls, you’ve made it feel like home. You’ve added character by tacking up a variety of posters, plants, and other fun keepsakes. “Do you want to order food? I don’t really want to cook.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tom pulls out his phone and glances up at you, face illuminated by the screen. “What do you want?”

“Thai?”

He pulls a face. “How about Chinese?”

You scrunch your nose up. “Thai?” You try again.

Tom bites his lower lip, his fingers moving over the screen. “Is it nice?” He asks you.

“You’ve never had Thai before?”

He looks up at you, shrugging haplessly. “Nope.”

“Yes, it’s nice.”

Tom surprises you by holding out his phone. “Pick something for me?” He asks. “Something good, though.”

You chuckle softly, accepting the phone and scrolling through the app. “I can’t promise you’ll like it, but I think you should.” You add a few things to the order before tossing it back. You dig your hands into your jean pockets and hesitate. “I’m gonna take a shower. Do you want me to show you the guest room?” You ask, eyeing up the hefty bag Tom had brought with him.

“That would be nice.”

You’re quick to show Tom his room, and then you’re off through the shower. You’d been called to set for 7am, and the hot, pulsing water soothes away the tired ache in your muscles. The scent of fresh lavender clings to your skin as you dry yourself off and then collapse into a loose pair of leggings and a nice hoodie. You feel more like yourself as you stare into your reflection in the mirror now. You love acting, and you love being someone else, but you feel safest as you are right now: bare, authentic, yourself.

You’re so relaxed that you almost forget Tom’s staying over until you walk into the living room and see him sprawled out on one of your sofas, phone in hand. He cranes his face back to look at you as he hears you, his eyes drifting lazily over your figure.

“Food will be an hour,” he tells you sadly.

“Great,” you grumble. You walk into your kitchen, looking over at him from across the open counter. “Do you want any wine?”

“Fuck yeah.”

You snicker as you start to pour out two glasses of rosé. “So how do you want to go about taking these photos?” You ask tentatively.

“Well, they made me bring a few different outfit changes,” Tom starts, speaking slowly, “So I guess we should just… Move about a bit and take some pictures together.”

It’s awkward as you walk back into the living room and hand him his wine glass. “Cheers,” you mutter, tipping the rim of the glass against his. A piercing ring fades across the room, and you share a despondent look with Tom.

“Cheers indeed, love.”

It’s uncomfortable until the wine kicks in, at which point the staged photographs come together a lot easier.

You start off with a few simple candids around your apartment. You take some of Tom pretending to make some tea, and then of him standing out on your balcony overlooking the city. He changes out his shirts and hoodies every few shots, as instructed by PR, so you’ll have a more comprehensive selection of photos to post in the future. It grows quite amusing after a while as you both try to out-Vogue the another, and once the air is full of your endless laughter, you find yourself relaxing.

When he’s satisfied with the number of candids he’s got of you, Tom suggests you get a little closer and try to get some more intimate, couple-y pics, “‘for the ‘gram, yeah?” This is when you run into a problem.

“I haven’t done this in so long,” you find yourself admitting as you sit beside Tom in your bed. You’ve slipped into a pyjama shirt, and Tom’s settled beside you.

“Had an incredibly handsome actor in bed with you?” He returns, eyes sparkling mischievously. This evening he’s been very cheeky with you, and you have to admit you’re warming up to it.

“Haha,” you say drily, rolling your eyes. You puff up your pillows and settle against the headboard. “Taken any photos with a romantic interest,” you clarify.

Tom pulls off his shirt easily, balling it up and throwing it across the room. You startle at this sudden action, your eyes drifting down to the defined lines of his abs. Tom is stacked. His lips curve into a smirk.

“Well, today’s your lucky day,” he teases, causing you to scoff. He opens up his arms, and you settle into them gently, aiming for a sleepy, lazy, we-woke-up-like-this vibe. Your head finds his chest, and your cheek presses against his warm skin comfortably. “Smile.”

He takes a few photos of you together, posing as a lovestruck couple, and as the seconds pass by, you melt further into him. You hadn’t realised how cold you were until Tom opened his arms and let you in, but now it’s as if you were freezing before the first touch. He’s got his hand resting on your side, and you feel his mouth linger above your forehead, hesitating.

“Can I kiss your face?” He mumbles softly, “Might make it look more realistic.”

You hum quietly, closing your eyes as you wrap yourself further around his torso. “Sure. Can I kiss your chest?” You ask boldly, spurred on a little by the woozy heat that smothers your mind.

You hear Tom’s breath hitch, and find yourself holding yours until he mutters, quietly, “Yeah.”

You let him have his fun first, and try to remain as nonchalant as possible as you feel his lips fluttering out across your forehead. He leaves a delicate trail of kisses from temple to temple, caressing your skin slowly, softly, with his warm mouth. You realise with a soft epiphany that you don’t mind being in this position: Tom’s peppering your face in gentle kisses, holding you close in his bare arms - and it’s quite nice. And maybe… Maybe he’s quite nice, too. Sometimes.

Tom’s hand smoothes over your hair, and you tilt your head until you’re able to scatter a few short kisses across his chest. You can hear the small clicks coming from his phone, and you really drag it out, enjoying the press of his supple pale skin against your mouth. It warms you up, sets a tingle flaming through your lips.

“There,” you say, finally dragging yourself away from him. “Do you think we’ve done enough?”

Tom hums, watching you closely as you sit up from his chest. His arm retracts from your side, and the air between you clears. “Yeah. I’ll send them to PR and see what they say.” He messes around on his phone for a few minutes, but you stay exactly where you are - shrouded in duvet and blankets and lingering near his body heat. Your eyelids flutter shut as you relax, your peace lasting until he asks, slowly, “When was the last time you dated anyone?”

You pry open an eye, looking at him curiously. “Eh, it’s been a while. Almost a year since there was anyone serious.” You look up at him, your head resting easily on the pillow. “Why?”

“Just realised I don’t know that much about you, really,” Tom replies. He slips down the bed until he’s lying beside you, and both of you move onto your sides to face one another. He looks quiet and unassuming like this - tufts of brown hair pushed messily around his forehead, with a warm expression hanging from his lips. It’s an odd look to be directed towards you.

“Yeah,” you hum. You let a small smile find your lips. “I don’t know much about you either.”

The sheets rustle as Tom moves a little closer. “Do you… want to know more about me?” He asks gently.

You swallow. You can taste the wine on your tongue, and you wonder why you can only seem to get along with him when you’re tipsy.

“Yeah,” you admit. “Maybe it’d be easier to do this if we weren’t always so…”

“Horrible?”

You bite your lip as you nod. “Yeah. We can be pretty mean.”

“Why do we do that?” Tom muses, his cheeks nice and flushed.

“I don’t know.”

Tom reaches out beneath the covers, and his hand finds yours softly. He links your fingers together, and you look into his eyes intently. You find only warmth and sincerity staring back at you.

“Maybe we should try to be less hostile to each other,” he suggests.

Briefly, your mind rewinds to that day at the park, all those weeks ago, and how Tom had dramatically announced that the thought of being your friend repulsed him. It surprises you to hear this change of heart, but you realise you’re in the same boat. A lot has changed since then.

“Okay,” you find yourself agreeing. “I’d be down to try that.”

“Okay.”

You share a small smile, and it seems to last a lifetime. For a while, it’s just you and Tom, buried in your bed together, hands clasped, breathing in sync, and it’s nice.

Eventually, food comes, and you convince Tom to watch one of your favourite films in your living room. You settle on separate sofas, but you’re able to make some light-hearted conversation. He even jokes around with you. It feels nice - but also too good to be true.

As you sober up, you find yourself looking at him sceptically. No matter how welcome the thought that things between you are slowly mending might be, you don’t trust Tom, and that’s not about the change overnight. He’s an actor, and you wouldn’t put it past him to be pulling your leg - drawing you into this rouse, only later to turn around and pull the rug from beneath you, and laugh at you for believing that he’d want to be your friend. Your perception of him has been skewed so negatively for so long that it’s hard to believe he’s actually being nice - even if on your end, the softening is genuine.

But you let yourself believe it, just for the night. You throw popcorn at him, and laugh together, and finish the bottle of wine over dinner.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Tom calls out, resting up against the door of the spare room. He’s caught you coming from the bathroom. He’s shirtless again, grey sweats hanging low from his hips, and you can’t stop your eyes from shamelessly tracing the curve of his v-line. “Not going to give your boyfriend a goodnight kiss?”

You roll your eyes, but you find yourself walking over to him. “You’re so fucking cheeky, Tom,” you mutter, amused. You press your hand to his shoulder and lean up to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight,” you say, eyeing him firmly.

Tom’s eyes dance with a thousand different emotions, and he dives in to kiss your cheek in return. “Night, love.”

You raise a hand in farewell and turn away before he can see the huge, embarrassing grin on your face.

When you wake up, it’s to silence and a slightly sore head. Your clock reads 8.22 AM, and you amble towards the kitchen.

You decide to extend towards Tom an olive branch - a cup of tea - to solidify your newfound… friendship? Amicable arrangement? You don’t know how to label it other than a loosening of your mutual disdain, but you know that whatever the dynamic was last night, it’d been nice. The idea that there’s more to him than the cocky, fronting mask he sometimes wears is pleasant.

So you make him a cup of tea, and then tentatively walk across to your spare room. You knock quietly, hear nothing, and then gently push your way inside.

The room is empty. Tom is gone. He’s left the bed unmade.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, scrunching your eyebrows together. You glance around and notice he’s taken all of his things, and then walk back into your room to check your phone - no new messages from him.

You sit down on the edge of your bed and sip at the tea you’d painstakingly poured for him.

Maybe it was too good to be true, and you’d just been stupid to think one tipsy evening together was the start of something new. He’s clearly undergone no change of heart if he’s managed to waltz out without as much as a text goodbye. You feel stupid and angry, but above all disappointed.

Because for a moment - a brief, hopeful moment - you’d imagined being Tom’s friend, and the prospect had made you feel happy.

↠ NEXT PART

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outer-bnks · 3 years

Text

Two Burning Hearts Are Dared to Break (JJ X OC) Ch. 11

The Pogues get a surprise visit from Agent Bratcher, causing tensions to rise in the group. JJ exposing Elle and Topper’s budding romance doesn’t help either.

Warning: swearing, brief mention of death

Word count: 1.5k

“This is so messed up”, JJ sighed, keeping his eyes down to the ground, shaking it in disbelief.

The Pogues silence that followed allowed them to mull over the possibilities of what could happen with their ongoing police investigation, before it was broken by knocking, Elle removing herself from the living room to answer it.

Opening the door she froze, coming face to face with Agent Bratcher. He took in her reaction, looking over her shoulder, “Hi, I’m Agent Bratcher of the SBI. I’m investigating the disappearance of John Booker Routledge and Sarah Cameron. I believe you and your friends may have some information that could help me.”

He definitely had come to the right place. Crossing her arms over her chest, she felt her heartbeat begin to quicken as a wave of anxiety washed over her. They had already given their statements to Deputy Shoupe, did they really have to recount the occurrences of this Summer again. “We can’t speak to you without a lawyer present sir, sorry to disappoint”, she spoke with confidence, hoping that it was enough to create a facade that he wouldn’t be able to see through.

Hearing footsteps approach her from behind she was soon joined by the others, relieved that she had some backup. “All due respect Agent, but it’s best if you leave”, JJ spoke, stepping in front of Elle and sizing up Agent Bratcher.

“I know you kids are going through a lot right now and the last thing you want to do is answer more questions regarding what’s happened,”,a look of genuine sympathy was displayed before it was replaced by seriousness, “but I think there’s more to the story than anyone is letting on”.

“We’ve already given our statements to Shoupe, there’s nothing more to say”.

“Look, between us, I think Shoupe is… overlooking some aspects that I would like to dive deeper into”, JJ turned to the others standing behind him, biting his lip whilst silently asking him with his eyes what Bratcher was talking about.

Bratcher took their curious faces as his signal to carry on. “The day of the storm, Sarah came to the SBI tents very aggravated… hysterical almost. It looked like she had been crying, she had a very anxious energy to her. But her father brushed it off as her recent diagnosis,”, he flipped through his pocket sized notebook searching before reading off, “Bipolar Disorder”.

Kie’s head flicked up from the ground that she had previously been staring at, confusion and surprise making her head fill with questions. Stepping forward between JJ and Elle she made sure she had Bratcher’s attention before speaking. “Sorry what? Bipolar Disorder?”, she turned her head to look at the others to confirm her own thoughts, “Sarah...wasn’t Bipolar.”

Bratcher shuffled on his feet, bringing his notebook down in front of his body before it was joined by his other hand, his eyebrows lifted at the news, eyes flitting from one Pogue to the other to check that they all thought the same.

“I’m sorry, I’m confused. Her Dad said that she had been recently diagnosed”.

“You really believe a thing Ward Cameron says? Come on man, you don’t need to be a detective to tell that he’s full of shit”, JJ expressed. Pope following that up with, “Wouldn’t that information be on her medical records sir?”.

Bratcher nodded, his eyes holding a pleading look as he skimmed over the Pogues once more. “Do you guys see why I need your help in this investigation now?”

Based on the silence that followed his question, he realised that the group may need some more convincing. “Listen, you all knew these two probably better than anyone else on this planet, let alone this island. Every little insignificant piece of information you have about them could lead us to either finding them, solving the case, or both. I need you to do this, not for me, but for them. They would’ve done the same for you right?”

His emotional tactic seemed to work, the Pogues glancing at each other before once again silently reaching an agreement. JJ stepped to the side, his arm outstretched to welcome the man into Elle’s house, “Come on in sir”.

---

“And then they were chased into that raging storm”, Pope finished. They had spent the past 2 hours in Elle’s living room describing the gold game and everything that occurred during their Summer, Agent Bratcher sipping on the tea Elle had prepared for him, in between jotting down notes on his pad. There were multiple instances where everyone had to hold back tears, when the memories of John B and Sarah became too painful.

“So that’s where the story ends?”, Bratcher enquired.

“Yep, forced into the storm by your men after being falsely accused of murdering Sheriff Peterkin”, JJ snapped sarcastically.

“So why didn’t anyone tell the police, try and clear John B’s name?”.

“Were you not fucking listening? We tried, and no one believed us. No one will ever believe us because we’re scum from the poor side of the Island”.

Bratcher maintained his gaze on a disgruntled JJ, before turning to others. “Look guys, I know the tension is high right now and you’re all grieving. But I’m not the bad guy here. I just want to solve this case. I want to find out what really happened to Big John, Scooter Grubbs, the Sheriff and your friends. And it seems like you have the answers. If you can all trust me, I can get the justice you all deserve. That your friends deserve,” he paused, “aren’t you guys tired of fighting this on your own?”.

The group pondered on his words. They were. They were all so tired.

Nodding his head, Pope spoke, “Yes, Agent Bratcher, we want justice, and we’re willing to do anything to get it”.

----

After another half hour of deconstructing the recent events, Bratcher decided it was time to leave. The Pogues all meeting in Elle’s living room, with solemn expressions, the exhaustion of the day catching up to them.

Letting out a sarcastic chuckle, JJ was the first to interrupt their thoughts, “Well that went well”.

Elle shook her head, fed up with his attitude, “JJ you didn't need to be so rude, he’s trying to help”.

Rising from his seated position on her couch, his tone became even more sarcastic, using his hands to exaggerate his point, “Oh yeah really Elle? Why should we trust anyone!”.

“Because we don't have much of a choice anymore!” Elle exclaimed, “Sarah and John B are gone, and now we’re being held responsible for this shit show! You really think they would’ve let us take the fall if they were still here?”.

JJ and Elle were face to face now. “Don’t try to play the emotion card with me! You might be naive enough to spill our secrets to Kooks in hopes for some sympathy and attention but I’m not. The more we tell them, the more they have to pin on us!”.

Kie and Pope snapped their heads to Elle, JJ’s revelation clearly surprising them.

“Wait wait, hold on,” Pope stepped forward between the two, turning to Elle, “Who have you been talking to?”.

Frustrated, she ignored Pope’s question, “God JJ you’re blowing it out of proportion!”.

“You’re falling in love with a Kook but I’m blowing it out of proportion, yeah right”, JJ replied, running his hand through his hair and walking away from the argument to the other side of the room. If Elle was paying attention to the blonde boy she would realise that his reaction wasn’t truly one of anger, but rather hurt.

Kie stepped forward, taking JJ’s place, “I’m sorry, you’re what now?”, she spoke bewildered by the accusation.

Continuing to ignore the other two, Elle’s attention remained focused on the boy who had his back to her, staring out the ceiling to floor windows at the sun setting below the horizon. She walked closer to him, hoping to regain his attention. “Jesus JJ, I get asked on one date and all of a sudden I’m the enemy”.

Taking his cap off his head, he ran a hand through his hair, before taking a breath. Turning his head to the side to face Elle, he held her eye contact. She couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes. She’d seen him angry and upset before, but this was different. She had seen this emotion only a few times, trying to place a finger on what it usually meant. Suddenly, the emotion had disappeared, replaced with one of betrayal, “when that date is Topper Thornton then yes Elle, you are the enemy”.

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#jj imagine #jj maybank #Outer Banks #outer banks imagine #rafe imagine #twoburningheartsaredaredtobreak #JJ x Elle #jj x oc #john b #kie x pope #outer-bnksimagines #outer-bnkswritings #jj series #outer banks series #outer banks netflix #jj x kie #jj x pope #jj x reader

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writewithurheart · 3 years

Text

Hearts of Kyber

a/n: Hello lovely readers!! I’ve been working on this work for the last couple months (and especially the last couple days). It has been an absolute pleasure working with these amazing artists who are astounding. I hope you love what we’ve put together!!

Corporalki: @kazandthecrows

Materialki: @anubem (art link) @generalstarkov (art link) @pijoshi (art link) @mitdemadlerimherzen (art link | art link 2) @erandraws (art link) @nannadoodles (art link)

Summary: When an Imperial pilot defects, the Rebellion sends its best spies to find out what he knows. They discover the existence of a planet-destroying weapon known as the Death Star and a scientist who holds the secrets to its only weaknesses. Guided by the pilot, Wylan, and a former storm trooper, Matthias, Kaz Brekker leads a team to uncover the secret that can save the Rebellion before it’s crushed for good.

A Grishaverse Rogue One AU for the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021

Read on AO3 or below the cut

Part I

Inej barely remembers those early days with her family living in the heart of a city. She gets flashes of memories - playing with dolls, toddling after her father, parties full of boring adults who couldn’t care less about her. What she thinks of when she remembers her family is what came after: the travelling band of performers they joined. It’s there that she felt comfortable. The troupe was her family: they encouraged her, taught her tricks of the trade, and were the ones who trained her as an acrobat. They travelled from system to system, performing in cities and small villages alike, on hot planets and cold. She had careful rules to follow about her interactions whenever they landed.

Despite all the restrictions, she remembers feeling carefree. The caravan was her domain and she was empress. The day her life changed was just like any other. She remembers her mother running a hand over her hair, whispering that they were going down into town. Her sleepy head full of cotton can’t remember her exact words, just the feeling of warmth, the comfort of routine. Only recently - on her eighth birthday - had she earned the right to sleep in instead of joining her parents’ customary outing.

Sometimes in her waking hours, she forgets that happened years ago and in her half-waking state she thinks she can still hear her mother’s soothing whisper and her father patting her hand as he tucks her treasured stuffed bear under the blankets of her bed so she has company.

Inej’s eyes fly open as the harsh lights of simulated daylight jolt her unrelentingly from her sleep into the cold reality of her life.

She rolls up to a seated position and runs her arm over her sleepy face. She makes no effort to make herself presentable and glares at her arm with the repulsive peacock feather tattoo. It’s been eight years since that morning when her whole life burned around her, her whole extended family vanished in the blink of an eye and she was sold into the slave markets of the Hutts before she was even aware what that meant.

“Inej Ghafa, the mistress will see you now,” a mechanical voice says over the speaker hidden in her room. Luxurious drapes and curtains cover the mechanical aspects of the room, but can’t hide the prison-like nature of a room without windows in a pleasure house. This has always been Inej’s cage.

Of course, to the Empire, this isn’t slavery. She has an indenture that she’s working off, this was a choice she made. Inej stands. The words are bullshit. It’s a pretty story told by those who believe themselves to be above such terrible things just because they use different words. Inej is old enough to know what happens in the different rooms of the pleasure house she currently calls home, but still too young to be expected to participate fully. But she knows her days are numbered.

Girls in this trade grow up quickly. She’s still a tease, only suffering a a groping hand here, a leer there, the occasional bit of voyeurism which makes her skin prickle and means she can never feel comfortable in any room, including her own.

Inej dresses with practiced movements in the ridiculous trappings Madam Helene requires. There are far too many bells on the outfit, too many dangling bits that can tangle for it to really be the exotic outfit Helene claims the clients want. She hates the way the silk feels against her skin when it used to mean the soothing comfort of performance attire.

For now, her role is to just be an ornamentation for the pleasure house, but madame makes sure she knows what could happen the moment she steps a toe out of line. She’s not above selling Inej off before her time, the cost of which would do nothing to lower the exorbitant cost of her supposed indenture.

Inej keeps her head down and walks quickly to the main room. In the early hours, there are few patrons who might be looking for a companion, but Inej has learned to keep her head down in any case. She’s short and skinny - underdeveloped to most tastes - so aren’t many interested in her and the ones that are she should avoid with even more care.

There’s a boy in the room with Helene: a boy with a familiar cane. Inej is so surprised to see him that she forgets to look away meekly when his dark eyes meet hers. She tilts her head in curiosity. Last she saw, he was slipping out of a back hallway which she knew allowed Helene to eavesdrop on clients as they spent the night with girls, or that she offered to well-paying customers who took pleasure from that sort of thing.

He looks just as cold as he did that night, but she vividly remembers the surprise in his eyes when she spoke from over his shoulder. He wasn’t a regular customer at the brothel but he was on good terms with a couple members of the staff and she’d seen him exchange kruge for information on more than one occasion. Last she saw him, she’d offered him help.

“Ah, there’s my little Suli Lioness.” Madam Helene smiles benevolently, but her perfume chokes Inej as she wraps an arm around her. “Inej, do you know who this is?”

“They call him Dirtyhands,” she answers, voice proper and meek as Helene likes. All the other girls have told her not to ask questions any time she tries to find out more. She can’t help but wonder if offering herself to him was a mistake, but she knows this place will kill her if she doesn’t find a way out.

“Hmm…,” Madame hums. She turns to the boy with a set face and Inej’s chest tightens in apprehension. “I’m afraid your offer will not be accepted, Mr. Brekker. Inej is precious to me.” Her bejeweled fingers dig into Inej’s shoulder. “I couldn’t possibly part with her.”

The boy raises an impeccable eyebrow. “I was under the impression our negotiations were finalized.”

Helene releases an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, you silly boy. Did you know the Empire has offered quite the reward for you?”

Inej tenses. She knows that Madame is fickle in her alliances, but she’s never openly invited storm troopers into her house: they don’t pay well.

“You’d better run, little boy, if you want to get out of here before they can grab you.”

Two doors into the main room slide open with a whoosh of air to reveal armored bodies with blasters levelled at the boy. Inej’s quick eyes note that the door closest to Brekker has no guard, instead being left clear if he wants to escape. If she were him, she would be running but instead he looks bored as he stares back at Madame. He lifts his wrist to check his time piece, an old fashioned analog device that hasn’t been used in decades.

There’s a pulse of static followed by a volley of blaster shots. Inej jerks down out of the way but is shocked to see that none of the shots were aimed at them.

“You should have taken the money, Helene,” the boy shaking space dust from his jacket. “We could have continued this lucrative partnership.”

Madame pales and looks around at the rumpled crew of men who are all standing around. Most have holstered their guns, but a tall dark-skinned man walks up to them and gestures Helene back away from Inej. Madame drops her grip as if she can’t get her distance fast enough. She turns to the boy.

“Please! You have to understand, the troopers would have killed me if I didn’t.”

The boy looks at her impassively before shrugging. “Per Haskell is still willing to buy out her indenture. I’m sure we can agree on a more reasonable price.”

Inej snorts. She can’t help it. They’re literally haggling over the price of her indenture after not killing one another. Frankly, it’s ridiculous. The boy looks over at her. Although his face is a mask which reveals no secrets, Inej sees a hint of amusement lurking in his dark eyes before he focuses again on Madame Helene.

“Congratulations,” the dark-skinned man who shooed Madame Helene away says, leaning down to her, even as his eyes stay on the boy and madam. “You’re being rescued.”

She looks around at the rag tag group she’s now willing to bet are Rebellion spies and wonders if this will actually be any better. Beyond them, she spots a couple of Helene’s girls with their bloodshot eyes, thin skin and haunted looks. It’s enough to remind her that is it. This is what she wants: a chance to save her father and get revenge on the Empire which has caused her so much pain.

Inej straightens as much as she can. It looks like she’s joining the rebellion.

...

Three years later…

“You ever wonder if Kaz is actually a demon?” Jesper asks speculatively. He points his blaster to the sky and stares down the barrel. It’s in the best possible order he can make it. The sights are calibrated, the lazer refined and the trigger pull smooth. He couldn’t ask for a better weapon.

Other than it’s partner, which is still in his holster and also freshly taken care of.

“You’re supposed to be watching his back, Jesper,” the Wraith’s voice reminds him, tinged with annoyance.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, rolling over so he can look over the side of the building to where Kaz is meeting with his contact. “You know, I’m still not sure why all three of us need to be here for one pilot.”

“If you want, we can always switch positions,” Inej offers. “You can play get-away pilot.”

Jesper snorts as he lines up his sight again. “Yeah, right. That’s all yours, spider. Besides we needed the sniper position here, remember?”

There’s a long suffering sigh over the radio and Jesper grins. Through the scope his eyes bounce to Kaz. He can’t see his face, but Jesper knows he’s got that stone face of annoyance, which, as it turns out, is not so different from his normal ambivalent face except that it includes the slight twitching of the vein at his temple.

Inej claims he’s seeing things, that it’s all in Jesper’s head. According to her, Kaz’s tell has to do with his eyes or some other sappy thing like that because they’re both secretly in love with each other. Jesper thinks they’re both idiots and he likes to think that one day, if he makes a bad enough joke or an inappropriate enough comment, that vein on Kaz’s temple is going to burst.

He thinks it's good to have goals like that. It makes the dirty work they do for the Rebellion more palatable.

“I still think it would be better to have me on the ground,” Inej grumbles. “You know I’m no good at the piloting stuff.”

“You’re the one who wanted to come. If I recall, Per Haskell offered you leave and instead you came here.” Jesper notices the stiffening of Kaz’s shoulders. His informant is still calm, if a little jumpy-looking, so he knows that’s not the source of the tension. His eyes scan the street and see nothing alarming.

Jesper hasn’t asked but he knows there’s something going on here that they’re not sharing. Inej has been wound tight since they started to hear rumors of an Imperial weapon strong enough to take out a planet. While it was still just a rumor, Kaz and Inej were chasing the thread down with a vengeance. It’s what brought them back to this city world where they had found Inej three years ago.

Now if only his sneaky little cohorts would share the secret with him. That would be great.

Jesper grumbles to himself. Like that would ever happen. He looks through the scope of his rifle. The tell tale of white of stormtrooper armor catches his eye and Jesper focuses on the location. The odd trooper presence in a city like this isn’t necessarily something to make note of. It happens on occasion, but this is a pair and he can spot another pair making their way in what looks to his eyes like search patterns.

“Heads up, Kaz. We might have company.” Jesper says as he keeps an eye on the soldiers. “Moving in pairs. Looks like a search pattern.”

They’re too far away to hear the words that are spoken, but Jesper can guess what it is from here: “Hey! You there!”

He watches as Kaz drags their contact into an alley as the storm troopers converge from two directions.

“I’ve lost sight of you, Kaz.” Jesper sights the troopers through his scope and taps a finger against the trigger. Killing troopers brings more attention than Kaz likes. They work in secret. “Exit strategy?”

Through Kaz’s comm he hears the panicked pleas of Kaz’s contact swiftly silenced by a laser bolt. He grimaces at the additional body count as Kaz’s gravelly voice comes over the comm.

“I’ve got it. Jesper, join Inej. Meet me at the rendezvous point.”

He takes one last look at the troopers closing in on the alley and then stands. If Kaz needed help, he would ask. The man had a thousand and one plans. There’s no way he didn’t account for a way out of this trap. It sounds like he’s probably climbing, a feat considering his bum leg from when he landed on it wrong a couple years back and it never healed properly.

“You know, for once I’d like one of these missions to go smoothly,” Jesper mutters under his breath as he hightails it back to the ship. He stows his blaster and keeps it from sight as he moves through the crowds. Seedy cities have been a second home to him for years, since he left the Imperial flight academy, if he’s being honest. He liked the anonymity the city gave him. It always felt better than the emptiness of the moisture farm he grew up on. He hates the heat and the sand.

Oh, God, the sand.

He walks aboard the ship with the swagger of a drunk who won big at the betting table. He nods jovially to those he passes. There are a couple glances down to the pistols at his waist, but that’s normal on a large port like this one. Intergalactic travel to major cities has always been fraught with trouble and this one isn’t especially savory. They don’t have the clearance for savory.

Inej sits on the ramp of the ship, sprawled out across it like a cat. She opens her eyes as he arrives and stretches. “Ready to go?”

“Shouldn’t the get away pilot be ready to run?” Jesper teases as they walk up into the ship and Inej diverts to the cockpit, starting the take off procedure.

“I spent the last hour bemoaning my terrible coworker who insists on gambling at each port and always staggers back drunk, occasionally with unexpected company. I’ve already got tower clearance to leave. And taking off won’t set any red flags with the Empire so we’re clear.”

Jesper drops into the copilot chair as Inej goes through engine checks. “You did all that?”

“You’re not the only one capable of sweet talking people, Fahey.” She shoots him a look and he chuckles.

“I remember when your first attempt to blend in. Didn’t you end up stabbing someone?”

Inej scowls at the memory. “And no one has tried to grab my body since then without a threat of a knife point.”

Jesper chuckles. “Fair enough.” He shifts as they fly high enough to leave the atmosphere and then drop back down, drifting through the carefully mapped out empty space of blind spots that allow them to drift down to the meeting point. Despite it taking them almost no time to get there, Kaz is already sitting against a crate on the roof of a run down building, cane held out in front of him with his hands crossed on top.

Jesper moves back toward the loading bay and opens the doors. He leans against the side of the doorway as the ship turns to face Kaz. “Hiya, honey. Miss me?”

As always Kaz rolls his eyes at Jesper’s attitude as he climbs the ramp. “We’re clean. Any trouble at the port?”

“Nope,” Inej reports from the cockpit. “Just a couple nosy traders looking for a good time. Sent them after Jesper.”

“Har har,” he shoots back as the ramp closes with a firm whoosh of pressure stabilizing. He turns to Kaz who has dropped onto the bench and closed his eyes. His lame foot is extended slightly in front of him, a tell that it’s aching from the exercise of escaping the troopers. Jesper can also see where his blaster sticks out from under his jacket, the clip of the holster no longer in place. He definitely used it. “Did you get the intel?”

Kaz nods.

“Where are we headed?” Inej asks. From the body of the shuttle, Jesper sees her hand hover over the hyperspeed settings, preparing to change the destination of their jump.

“The pilot is on Jedha.”

They both freeze and you could hear a pin drop in the shuttle. Jesper glances at Inej and sees the same worry painted in the lines of her face. “Are you sure?”

Kaz finally opens his eyes and leans forward. “It’s been confirmed. That’s the second source and this one claims to have actually seen the pilot.”

“But he’s a defector, why would he go there?” Jesper asks.

“Jedha’s not a stronghold for the Empire, but they do trade there.” Kaz answers, as if that explains the reasoning.

“But it’s a Shu stronghold. They’re cut off. We haven’t had contact in years.” Jesper glances at Inej in the cockpit. “Nina was there when the communications shut down. She wasn’t able to get out and no one’s been able to go in.”

Kaz rams a gloved hand over the top of his cane. “That isn’t strictly true.”

Inej whips around. “What?”

He sighs. “We have a way onto the planet. The problem will be finding the defector and getting him to talk to us.”

“And getting off planet again,” Jesper cuts in. “Or have you forgotten how the Shu seize whoever and whatever they want? There’s a reason we don’t have an outpost there.”

Kaz stares at him with those cold, blank eyes and then turns toward Inej. “Set the course.”

For a long moment, Inej doesn’t move. Her fingers tap against the control as she gazes at Kaz with an inscrutable expression on her face for a moment before she turns back to the controls and the ship lurches into hyperspace.

Jesper crosses his arms as he faces Kaz from across the ship. “You knew we were headed to Jedha.”

Kaz stares back at him for a moment and then closes his eyes. He leans back against the side of the ship. Jesper wishes he was surprised about the lack of communication.

He sits down next to Kaz. “This way on to Jedha...does it have anything to do with Nina?”

Kaz cracks open an eye. He looks Jesper over and shuts them again. “She was able to get one message out since the Shu shut down. The last message that got out - the one that opened a path - the agent was lost. Haven’t heard anything since.”

“Nina?”

“Under orders to lay low.”

“Are we taking her out with us?”

Kaz’s hands tighten on the head of his cane. “We’ll see.”

...

There was something happening. Nina looks around the marketplace covertly as she examines the fruit in the stall in front of her. It’s the same bland, slightly bruised fruit that they always have. Two years on this desert planet and she’s still not used to the blandness of the food. She’s missing the lush variety of Aldaraan and the sweets she used to eat by the bushel. There’s no sweets here in Jedha, especially not in the mostly abandoned temple.

She exchanges a coin for two shrivelled pieces of fruit and a smile with the vendor. She slips off the main thoroughfare and into the archway that leads into the dilapidated temple. Like most of Jedha, it’s covered in a fine layer of sand and dust, and shows the wear and tear of years of war.

She tosses a piece of fruit to the tall and skulking shadow that leans against the archway. Matthias catches the fruit of the air. He pulls a wickedly long knife from behind his back and cuts the fruit into meticulous pieces, eating with precise movements to stop the juice from creating a sticky mess.

Nina is far less careful. She bites into the fruit and does her best to stop the overripe fruit from spilling juice down her chin. It’s a messy process and her fingers will end up coated in sugary sweetness. It’s her little act of rebellion that makes Matthias shake his head in her direction, when his eyes aren’t sweeping the plaza.

“There’s something in the wind,” he says as he slowly eats another slice of his fruit. Nina’s is almost gone. She’s sad for that.

“Rumors.” Nina glances at the gangsters on the corner of the street with their strange metal suits. They’re looking antsy, searching the street. “There’s not much chatter. Something about an Imperial pilot. Broke through the Shu blockade.”

Matthias’s eyes drift back across the crowds of people. Nina rearranges her robe and leans against her staff. Two years posing as acolytes of the temple and proselytizing about Sankts has her accustomed to her character. No one bothers with a monk spouting ideas of an old religion they no longer believe in.

“The Empire is still confined to their kyber shipments,” Matthias observes. He casually cuts the seeds from his fruit. “Their shuttle routes haven’t been altered. The Shu though.” His eyes dart to their locations around the square. “They’re looking for someone.”

“A defector,” Nina says.

Matthias finally looks over at her in surprise. “Yours or mine?”

“Does it matter?” she asks. “Either way, we need to find them before anyone else.”

“Do we?” Matthias grumbles and slips his knife back into the sheath hidden somewhere on his person. “It’s not like anyone’s come to get us in the last two years.”

Nina rolls her eyes. They’ve had this argument before. “Come now, druskelle. Where’s that attitude of dedication to the Empire?”

He snorts. “It died two years ago.” One of the Shu guards moves and Matthias’s attention strays. “Think it’s important enough that they’ll risk their peace with the Shu?”

Beneath the question is the unspoken one that neither of them have put words to, but they both know is lingering in the back of their minds: Is this defector more important than they are? Nina’s last mission was to get a contact off Jedha to the Rebellion. Matthias had saved her from capture by the Shu and they hadn’t been able to risk an attempt to leave Jedha since then. The Empire had some sort of deal with the Shu that allowed them access to the Kyber mines but that was it.

“Perhaps it’s time we went to collect tithes, Brother Helvar,” Nina announces. She pulls up the hood of her robes and leans on her staff as she walks out from the temple. Matthias follows behind her with grumbled complaints under his breath. The occupants of the city are familiar with their dynamic, although they’re sure to vary the times they depart the temple. Routines are too predictable.

Matthias doesn’t speak even as Nina stops to talk with every friendly face she sees. For the first year, he had complained at every moment, even as she explained to him the importance of blending in, of becoming part of the populace. Now he even lets the children climb on him when she stops to share a story about the saints.

“They’re jumpy,” Lin shares with Nina in whispered tones, her eyes darting around the square even though there don’t appear to be guards around right now. “Jan said he saw stormtroopers preparing to enter the city.”

Nina performs a blessing on an elderly man. “Any idea what they’re looking for?”

“A pilot.” Lin shifts her daughter around on her hip. “Imperial pilot. You don’t want to get between the troopers and their goal. The Shu are looking for him too. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of their way.”

Matthias moves closer. “And the pilot?”

Lin glances at him and then back at Nina. She’s always been more skittish around men. It’s a look Nina’s uncomfortably familiar with and one she knows speaks to a violent past interaction. The way she grips her daughter just a bit closer breaks Nina’s heart.

Nina nods encouragingly.

“Down by the old refractory.” Lin freezes up as soon as the words escape her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise at what she just divulged. She darts away in a panic, leaving Nina and Matthias to continue to serve the poor with their usual tithes.

By unspoken agreement, Matthias follows Nina’s lead as she takes them on a winding path. The last year and half of long meandering routes work in their favor as Nina leads them with more purpose.

It feels good to have a purpose again. She hasn’t had contact with the Rebellion, but if this is big enough that the Empire is willing to fight the Shu for the interloper, then it’s big enough for the Rebellion to also be looking. The Empire has the strength to use brute force. The Rebellion will send Kaz Brekker. Per Haskell would be an idiot to send anyone else.

As they get closer to their destination, Nina slows her pace and purposefully plays up her monk persona, passing out alms and blessings in equal measure. Matthias moves gruffly in her wake, watching her back in a way that might be suspicious if it hadn’t been his stable characteristic for the last two years. The Shu are used to their dynamic of the devout believer jaded sceptic. They had adopted the personas for safe passage before the Shu blockade and been forced to maintain it since then.

It was useful, despite neither Nina nor Matthias being well versed in espionage.

By the time they reach the old refractory buildings, Nina and Matthias are moving at a crawl, speaking to every person they see. Nina’s eyes scan the faces for one that looks out of place, one that screams uncertainty or distrust.

She gets pointed down a dark alley by one of the urchins after she shares with him one of her precious jojo beans. It’s the closest she can get to her sweets in this city. She glances at Matthias and he nods. His body is intentionally relaxed, ready to move as necessary in response to a threat.

Nina leads the way into the factory, looking around carefully as they move into the space. She breathes in deeply and sinks into the meditative state. The air around her settles, buzzing with the life force of the inhabitants of the city. In a couple of breaths, she narrows it further so she can feel the interior of the building.

Matthias mutters under his breath, something about religious mumbo jumbo and insanity.

Nina turns sideways and opens one eye to glare at Matthias. He rolls his eyes and gestures at her to continue.

Her use of the Force is unrefined, based more in the faith that it will work than on actual knowledge about what she’s doing. It’s an old religion and the order they’re with is still respected even if not believed in. Okay, so maybe respected is pushing it. They’re disregarded as religious fanatics who don’t do much of anything.

She follows the light of the Force through the factory, letting it guide her feet, trusting it to protect her from bumping into any of the clutter. Dimly, she senses Matthias grunt as he moves something out of her path before she hits it or it hits her. She keeps her focus on the life signature that shines like a beacon, coming to a stop once they’re in sight of the huddled mass. She opens her eyes and peers into the gloom.

“We’re here to help you,” Nina says. Her soft voice carries around the large space. She ignores Matthias’s mutter about talking to herself.

“Who...who are you?” A tremulous voice asks. It sounds younger than Nina expected, more uncertain. She thought a defector would be more hardened, more convinced of their path to go against the Empire in such a way.

Nina squats down to look at the hunched over figure. Matthias has one hand hovering over his hidden firearm, the other on a dagger. She’s deep in her meditation of the Force and senses no danger from the huddled figure.

“You’re the pilot, right?” Nina asks instead of answering.

His eyes look her over, lingering on her and Matthias’s matching robes. “You’re priests?”

He inches forward. There’s enough light cast on him that his Imperial uniform catches her eye, answering the question he avoids. She smiles softly at him and holds out her hand. Behind her Matthias shifts, disliking her proximity to perceived danger, if she has to guess.

“Word on the street is you’re a defector. We’re here to help.”

...

Wylan doesn't think he's ever been this cold in his life. Which is bizarre because this is a desert planet. You'd think it would be warm but instead he's found himself huddled in dark corners, scavenging like a rat for scraps for the last couple days while he tries to escape notice from the Shu. Jedha was supposed to be a safe haven for him, somewhere the Empire couldn't touch. The Shu had tried to grab him first, had detained him and demanded answers to their questions about the Empire. His protests that he wanted to defect fell on deaf ears. Then they'd dragged him into a cave with a beast they called Bor Gullet.

It's a blur after that.

He remembers waking in a cell to garbled words, a blurred hologram of his father glaring disdainfully down at him. A comment about the Empire being grateful to the Shu. Wylan doesn't know how he escaped. There's a memory of loud noise, a flash of heat, and dirt. Then it's all dark and cold.

He'd avoided people after that, stuck to shadows, and only ventured out when the emptiness of his stomach threatened to eat him from the inside out.

He doesn't even know how long it's been since he escaped the cell...or was released...he doesn't know.

Then the woman appeared, like an angel out of the darkness and she promises salvation.

Wylan knows enough of his father's games not to immediately trust the gesture. "Who are you?"

“We’re with the Rebellion,” she says with a smile.

The monk behind her rolls his eyes and turns away. They don’t look like any monks he recognises. The only person he’s heard of who truly follows the old religion is the Darkling and Wylan’s not so unfortunate to have ever seen him in person. “You don’t look like Rebels.”

“He’s right. We don’t,” the man tells her.

The woman looks over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in a glare. “Matthias Helvar.” She turns conspiratorially back to Wylan and there’s a friendly glint in her eye that makes him want to trust her. “Once he was the most devout of you all. Rose through the ranks of the Empire almost as high as they come. You want out of the Empire. We can help.”

Wylan’s eyes drift over the man’s features and there’s something that reminds him of the way General Brum’s men carry themselves, the elite of the troopers he’s only seen from a distance. Wylan wants to string words together but they slip away like soap and water.

“Will you come with us?” She prompts, yet again.

He can’t combine the fears and hopes and questions into coherent sense. All he can do is nod in agreement. Whether they harm him or save him, he’ll be dead or caught if he stays here on his own. He needs allies and he’s not in a mental state where he can do much of anything himself.

“Good,” she says. She pulls him forward and manhandles Wylan into a monk’s robe over his tattered pilot’s uniform. “I’m Nina. This is Matthias. We’re going to get you out of here alive. Good?”

Wylan nods. She shoves a basket into his hands and drops additional bits of clutter from the warehouse floor into it.

“We should be heading back,” Matthias rumbles.

“Walk between us,” Nina instructs, pulling the hood of his robe up. Matthias mimics the movement. “Don’t make eye contact. Don’t talk to anyone. Just stay in step with us. We’ll speak for you if it comes to that.”

Wylan has enough sense to nod along. He knows talking will only give away his current state of complete confusion. He can see the looks Nina and Matthias exchange in response to his silence. He’s not so lost that he doesn’t understand what’s going on but the thoughts take too long to reach his lips and disappear like fragrance on a breeze.

The ground is dusty and uneven under Wylan’s feet. It captures his attention as he walks, so different from the metal hallways and corridors he’s used to walking. His feet catch from where they scrape the ground and he tries to tell his body to lift his feet higher, but they don’t seem willing to respond any more than what they do by instinct. When was the last time he walked on anything that wasn’t steel?

He’s so preoccupied by swirls of dirt that he walks right into a wall.

Well, not a wall, but the giant monk - Matthias. He bounces off the man’s back, which feels like the equivalent of walking into a wall. The man doesn’t even move in response to him walking into him at full speed, but Wylan almost falls on his butt, and would if it wasn’t for Nina catching him.

She steps past him to stand next to Matthias. She pushes him further into the shadows behind Matthias as she looks past him to see what’s grabbed his attention. Wylan shuffles sideways and ducks down so he can look around the hulking figures.

The white helmets break through his current haze and Wylan stumbles backwards. The Storm Troopers followed him. He can’t allow himself to be captured, not after he finally escaped that place and his father’s restrictive control.

“Wait!” Nina whispers harshly, but Wylan’s body is moving without his consent. The urge to get away is too strong. It drives him, haltingly, step-after-step through twisting and confusing alleyways. He’s not sure where he’s going except away. If he can get to a port, he’s sure he can fly a ship.

Another flash of white Imperial helmets send him careening in another direction which leads him into a square. The sudden exposure leaves him disoriented and he spins around looking for another exit as a child is ushered into one house and shutters are slammed shut. Wylan gulps. He walks back and turns, running into someone for the second time. This time the person rocks as he crashes into them, but Wylan’s still the one wheeling back.

He blinks at the man, carrying some sort of stick. He looks like he could belong here except that his eyes are too intent. It’s the kind of gaze you couldn’t stand for too long but are also scared to look away from. It takes him a second to notice the tiny girl at his side. She’s looking around, causally flipping a blade in her hand. The other rests on a blaster. Now that he realized that, Wylan notices the man is also armed.

“Wylan Van Eck?” The man asks.

Wylan blinks at him in shock. He’s helpless to do anything but nod. They’re not Empire and they don’t look like the Khergud who grabbed him, so they can’t be that bad. Or at least are likely better than the alternative.

“Right. Time to be off. Let Jesper know we’ve got the package.” The man turns abruptly.

Wylan glances at the girl who steps aside and gestures at him to follow. He hasn’t decided if he will when there are footsteps behind him. He twists back to see who’s following and breathes a little easier when the monks appear. Maybe monks are better than whoever the man is.

Maybe he’s dead anyway.

“Oh good. You’re here.” The man says. “We can all go then.”

Nina smirks from where she’s bent over catching her breath. “Nice to see you too, Kaz. Been ages.”

...

It’s convenient that they were able to find the pilot and Nina in one place. He would have trouble getting Inej and Jesper out of here with just the pilot. They’d had no communication with Nina, no way to get in contact with her once they were in the atmosphere. Kaz takes it in stride and moves back the way they came. The rest will follow and someone will make sure the pilot comes along with them.

It would have been a fantastic escape. In and out with no trouble whatsoever. It would have been too lucky for him, so the storm troopers that come streaming racing around the corner where Nina and her friend emerged are hardly a surprise. The real unlucky bit is that they also appear in the two other access points to the square.

The pilot looks ready to bolt. Nina and the second monk steps forward. Kaz respects the bulk of him and hopes that he’s good in a fight. If it were just him and Inej, they would split up and meet at the rendez-vous. The pilot is going to be the issue.

“Halt. Surrender or you will be terminated.”

Inej pushes Wylan behind her and toward Kaz. The boy curls in on himself. How he ever got up the courage to desert the Empire, Kaz hasn’t a clue. Now they just need to get him out of here with whatever valuable knowledge is worth breaking the standoff with the Shu.

Kaz pushes him into a doorway, out of sight of the blasters. “Stay down.”

The boy whimpers.

Nina steps forward, hands raised in a deceptively helpless gesture. “Calm down. We’re all friends here.”

“Stand down or we will open fire,” the trooper repeats. The entire line readies their weapons. Their blasters might be unreliable and clunky, but with so many firing, they’re bound to hit something.

“You don’t want to shoot us.” Nina tries again.

“That’s what you’ve got?” the second monk asks incredulously.

She glares at him. Kaz watches Inej palm a blade and twirl it effortlessly in one hand. The harsh sunlight glints off the edge of the blade: steel instead of a laser edge many prefer. He knows she likes the way the old fashioned blades feel in her hand. They look like they belong in her grasp.

Nina steps forward again, closer and closer to the troopers. “You’re not going to shoot us.”

“Hand over the pilot.” The trooper says. From across the square, Kaz can hear the gun prep to fire. This isn’t working.

“Yeah. That’s not going to happen,” he drawls from the back of the group. The second monk glares at him, but Kaz just twirls his kane, unbothered. It was going to come down to this anyway. There’s no point holding it off as more backup and fire power arrives to support the troopers.

Shadows fall across the square and Kaz gets his first look at the notorious Khergud soldiers who have kept Jedha independent for the last two years. “Imperial Troopers. You have no authority in our city. The pilot is ours.”

Nina, her monk, and Inej grow tense at the new party. Beside him the pilot starts to mutter under his breath, rocking back and forth.

This actually works to their advantage as the troopers are forced to divert their attention. The Khergud fires directly at the troopers before jumping into the air. The troopers open fire, most on the Khergud, judging them to be the bigger threat.

Inej seizes the moment to dive forward into the fight, taking out two opponents in moments before she’s engaged by one of the Shu soldiers. She moves like an acrobat, twirling through flailing limbs that breeze past her. She’s a force of nature.

Kaz is distracted from his awe by a guard landing a few feet away and leaping for Wylan. He dispatches the soldier with a few whacks of his cane. He crumples under a well-placed hit to the temple.

More troopers race toward the noise. They stop around the corner of an alley, firing from their protective spots and forcing the monk and Kaz to step back to cover. They lob a grenade into the square. Kaz takes two steps forward and hits it back with the metal head of his cane. It soars in a perfect arch back to the troopers, who scramble for cover too late.

The monk nods in acknowledgment and moves to relieve Nina from her two enemies. Inej falls back as she takes out her opponent and the rest are distracted by Nina and the monk. She moves to stand alongside Kaz, stretching out the muscles she just used as she slips her blades back in their many holsters. The explosion rocks the block which takes out one contingent of troopers but they're met with more troopers and Shu, crawling out of the cracks like cockroaches.

A moment later shots arc over their heads, rapid fire, each one hitting its target and leaving the recipients incapacitated.

Kaz relaxes infintestimently. He'd been prepared to dive for cover. His hand twitches toward Inej but he knows she can take care of herself. She doesn’t need him trying to tackle her and throwing off her center of balance.

A figure emerges along the roofline, a rifle resting against his shoulder. “There were an awful lot of explosions for people who were supposed to be blending in.”

“I hope you’ve got an exit plan, Brekker,” Nina says. She diverts to the Imperial pilot after a glance at the monk.

He nods and moves for the alley. “This way.” He glances at Inej and up at the roofline. She nods and follows his tacit directions. Kaz leaves her to do what she does best: cover them from the shadows.

Kaz walks with purpose through the streets. Now that fighting has broken out, it appears that no one is holding back. Shu are fighting stormtroopers, troopers are fighting the Khergud and civilians are running for cover. Jesper’s and Inej’s shadows move with them. The monk - who Kaz Brekker suspects is the Druskelle Nina mentioned before she went dark - leads the charge, with his long legs that eat up the ground in long strides. Nina covers their escape with a simple bo staff.

“Where are we going?” The monk asks as he fires off a round of shots.

“Left!” Jesper shouts as he crashes to the ground on the back of a Khergud soldier. “I don’t know why we ever thought this was going to be a quiet mission. And I still say we need a demolition expert.”

“We’re spies, Jesper,” Kaz growls over the sound of battle.

Jesper shoots him a cocky grin over his shoulder. “But this is so much more fun.”

“There’s something wrong with you,” the monk mutters.

“Kaz.”

He looks sideways, unsurprised to find Inej at his shoulder, silent as always. He follows her gaze upwards and nearly stumbles to a stop. “Jedha doesn’t have a moon.”

Nina and the monk stumble to a stop. Jesper glances up for a moment. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. It appeared out of nowhere. It’s too big to be a ship but moons don’t move.”

“That’s it,” Wylan whispers. The pilot suddenly jolts into motion. “We have to go. Now!”

Kaz is forced into an ungainly run. He tries not to notice Inej hovering at his elbow, keeping pace with him as they race toward the ship. The Imperial pilot is ahead of them all, heedless of laser bolts. Jesper yanks him back by the collar to direct him to the correct ship.

As he reaches the ramp, Kaz starts to hear screams.

“Jesper, get us out of here!” Kaz yells. Inej hits the control to shut the ramp as Jesper guns the engine.

“What do you think I’m doing, Brekker? Buckle up. This ride’s about to get bumpy.”

...

The whole world has turned upside down. Matthias isn’t sure what he’s doing, to be perfectly honest. Staying with Nina was a mutually beneficial proposition. They were stuck on a foreign planet, where the only people they could trust were each other. He’d become accustomed to their partnership and been shocked by how much he relied upon her. Now, looking at this ragtag group - so different from the ordered discipline of the elite Druskelle guard - Matthias is at a loss for how the Resistance has managed to become a thorn in the Empire’s side.

He will admit that they were, like Nina, surprisingly capable and effective. However, he can’t hide how scandalized he is by their lack of any sort of recognizable chain of command. The trio moves like his old unit in that they’re so familiar with each other, they don’t need to shout out commands. But their actions of Jedha display an alarming disregard for a cohesive plan and seem to thrive on the chaos of the moment.

“What was that?!” The boy with the cane asks, turning around to stare at the group before his eyes zero in on the unfortunate pilot.

Matthias hasn’t gotten much from the boy, except that he stepped back from the fighting yet was clearly capable of surviving physical confrontation. Nina and his two companions seemed to defer to him as some sort of leader, which spoke to a sharp mind. Nina called him Kaz, which would indicate one of the high level members of Rebel Intelligence. He’s heard him referenced as a nightmare or a demon, spoken of in whispers and myths more than anything else.

All in all: Matthias expected someone older.

“That was the Death Star,” Wylan whispers. His eyes look haunted.

Matthias frowns. “Impossible.” He starts when five sets of eyes jerk towards him in the silence of hyperspace. He grits his teeth. The word wasn’t supposed to be spoken out loud. “They’re decades away from creating that technology.”

Wylan is shaking his head. “No. They found a scientist. Got him to create what they needed. I...I was able to get away. To warn the Rebellion. It’s a planet killer.”

“A planet killer?” The small girl repeats.

“Is that even possible?” Nina glances at him for confirmation. Matthias has no answer. It was only an idea when he was with the Druskelle last. Brum used to talk about it, but it was never close to a reality. Not then.

“Why don’t you ask Jedha?” Kaz says.

“We don’t know that it destroyed the whole planet,” the small girl points out.

The boy doesn’t look away from where he stares out the window at the white streaks of stars passing in hyperspace. “At the very least, we know it destroyed the city. If the Empire has a weapon like that, we’re left defenseless.”

“That’s why I was sent to find you,” Wylan says. He freezes when all eyes turn to him and he curls in on himself from his spot beside the pilot. Matthias has spent years in Imperial bases and has no idea how this pilot managed to get into the program, let alone became important enough to have access to this top secret project. It seems highly suspect to him.

“Sent?” The boy asks, finally turning so his whole body faces the pilot. Matthias does have to admit he cuts an intimidating figure even as he leans on his cane.

The pilot swallows. “The scientist. I was supposed to get to a contact they had with the Rebellion. There was someone I was supposed to connect with...the Wraith? But I got redirected…” He frowns. The more the pilot seems to search for words, the harder they seem to come.

Matthias has seen this before. “He was captured by the Khergud. They most likely probed his mind using Bor Gullet. That’s how they dealt with any Imperial or Rebel spies they found.” He leans back against the steel hull. It actually feels good to be back in space again after being grounded for so long.

It feels like freedom.

The boy looks at Nina. She nods in confirmation. “It’s true. We only escaped detection because of the temple.”

“Because all she would talk about was the Force,” Matthias mutters. He adjusts his muscles so they’re loose and he can react in an instant if needed. Nina drops into the space beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow as she settles in like a cat that can get comfortable anywhere.

“I saved your life,” she says without opening her eyes.

He grunts and doesn’t let his smile emerge.

“The Wraith,” Kaz repeats, focusing on Wylan again. “What were you supposed to tell them?”

Wylan still looks nervous. “Well, I was supposed to pass on...a message...There’s a way to destroy it. A weakness.”

“A weakness?”

Wylan yanks at his hair. It’s useless to try to force him to remember more in his state. Matthias watches the trio of rebels to see what they’ll do at this obstacle.

“He didn’t tell me,” Wylan whispers, clearly realizing this might not endear him to his rescuers at this point. “I was supposed to...bring someone back. They wanted...they wanted someone to rescue them, and they would share the weakness. I was just supposed to be the messenger. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

Kaz scowls and glances at the girl who looks at the man in the pilot’s seat, all having some sort of silent conversation. Matthias watches the interaction with interest.

“Where is this base?” Kaz finally moves closer, crouching so he can look Wylan in the eyes.

“Eadu.”

Matthias vaguely recalls the outpost. Far from most of the known universe, it’s one of the Empire’s research bases. There’s not a huge platoon placed there for protection. It’s a secret base, kept out of the way, and by necessity sees few changes in personnel. There were a couple training missions on the planet to diversify the team’s experiences and analyze security procedures.

“We don’t have anyone on Eadu,” the girl notes.

“Because Eadu’s on lockdown. Nothing in or out that isn’t high level.” The boy flying the craft throws over his shoulder. “Out of the flight academy, I only stopped there once because they needed a supply run immediately. They didn’t even let me off the shuttle. To be a pilot there, you’d have to have some pretty impressive clearance.”

Matthias alters his assessment of the crew that got them off Jedha. To get through the Imperial Flight Academy is impressive. The man also demonstrated impressive aim and combat skills. Despite not being highly regimented, they do appear to be a solid team. He glances down at Nina.

“So in order to get the information on the weakness, we have to go to Eadu,” the girl says. She’s twirling a knife in her hands, one with a true steel blade like he hasn’t seen in ages. Her comfort with it is another mark in their favor.

“Jesper’s right. It’s impenetrable. We haven’t managed to get anyone on the inside.” Kaz taps his fingers on the head of his cane.

“So we go.” The girl shrugs. “We redirect. We need to find a way to beat this thing or millions more are going to die.”

“Procedure is to report for further orders. We’ve got the pilot.” Kaz looks at her with a heavy look.

“Matthias can help.” Nina elbows him as she speaks up.

He scowls down at her as everyone turns to stare at him. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes to betray him.

“I’m not a traitor.” Matthias glares at the lot of them.

“You’ll help,” Nina says with a self-assuredness he’s come to hate over the last couple of years. Because as irksome as it is, she’s usually right about these things. They both know it.

“We’re supposed to just trust a stranger on your word?” Jesper asks.

“Get twisted, Fahey. You know my word is good.”

Kaz and the woman - whose name Matthias still doesn’t know - have another silent conversation. She turns to look at him, her eyes speculative. Kaz leans closer to her. “You think you can do this?”

She doesn’t take his eyes from Matthias. Her knives continue the casual twisting in her hand. She shrugs and looks back at the mastermind. “It is our kind of job.”

Kaz nods. “Jesper, alter course. Van Eck, help get him close without being seen. Matthias, you need to tell us everything you know, and quickly.”

“Why should I?”

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to make your life very unpleasant.”

“How do you even know the pilot is right? How do you know there really is a weakness? This could be a trap.” It sounds like the kind of thing Jarl Brum would think up to capture Rebel spies.

“Faith,” Nina says. “This is the right choice.” She finally sits up and stretches.

Matthias rolls his eyes at her religious display. He sighs. “I can tell you what I know. It could still be a trap.”

“The pilot is Wylan Van Eck. He’s on my list of potential informants. He became an Imperial pilot because of familial connections. It’s how he has access to sensitive information. We know they’re working on something on Eadu. If this is what he says, then we need that information.” The girl explains it in an even voice.

“And if there isn’t a secret weakness?”

Kaz and Inej exchange a long look.

“Then we find another way to blow it up,” Jesper supplies.

Matthias isn’t sure he likes the looks of glee on their faces.

“So how do we get in?”

The girl turns to look at Matthias, her dark eyes just the slightest bit terrifying now that he’s actually getting a good chance to size her up. She tends to fade into the background and let her comrades take charge, but definitely is not to be underestimated. He stares at her and then glances at Kaz.

“Inej is a ghost,” Nina says. “She can get in and out without anyone noticing.”

He looks her over, still assessing. This moment, more than any in the last two years of surviving, feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff. The last two years he could justify to his superiors: he was surviving a hostile planet, he had to get close to Nina or he would have died, he was trying to learn the secrets of the Rebel scum. This was different. If he does this, he’s helping the Rebel cause. He’s actively going against everything he’s ever learned.

Nina hits him in the shoulder, as if sensing his internal conflict. She twists upright to look at him and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

He can hear her voice in his head, berating him for his strict no-nonsense rules and his consuming hatred for anything that goes against the order of the Empire. There were countless debates as they marched through Jedha, each an intellectual exercise. He can honestly say that he doesn’t believe the Empire is never wrong, but is that enough to make him give up their secrets?

“They murdered everyone in Jedha,” she whispers to him softly. “Lin, Mauri, Katya…” She closes her eyes against the pain.

He wants to wrap her in his arms and pull her close. Nina feels everything so deeply, unable to stop herself from connecting with everyone she meets. He wants to protect from that pain, to comfort her. Those lives lost today. They were innocents. People that should have been protected and instead…

He opens his eyes and nods his agreement to Nina.

She grins, life and joy filling her back up as she bounces around in her seat, the way she gets excited whenever they found something reasonably sweet on Jedha. “Matthias meet Inej. Inej, meet Matthais. He’s a little shy but he knows what’s at stake.”

It’s like shedding a piece of armor or throwing off the last vestiges of who he once was. There’s no turning back now, and he has surprisingly little regret as he opens his eyes and asks the first damning question: “Where do you want to start?”

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