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chiptaylorsfirst · 2 years

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pls could you write a smut with sub kit walker x dom! female reader where kit does something wrong reader doesn't like and she punishes him in bed bdsm and spanking kink style? thx

A/N: Yes, I certainly can. I hope you enjoy this and thank you for requesting.

Word Count: 2,045

Pairing: sub!Kit Walker x dom!fem!Reader

Warning: Smut, bdsm, spanking, cock warming, hair pulling, choking, restraints, aftercare, masturbation, slight praise kink

Summary: You love your husband with all your heart but if he breaks your rules, he has to answer for it. This time, he's certainly crossed the line.

Kit had always been your adorable and loving husband and although you loved him to death and would do anything for him, today he was testing your patience. You were currently at Lana’s after party for her wedding and Kit disappeared from your side, conversing with a bunch of women who were obviously flirting with him. You knew he was just being friendly and how much he had a soft spot for women, no matter his attraction to them but when he allowed these girls to touch him without so much as looking at you, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You finished the drink you’d been sipping on and placed your hand on his shoulder. “Hello, ladies. I’m Y/N Walker. You guys enjoying the party?” “Yeah,” a woman said. “Are you Kit’s sister,” she asked. “No, I’m his wife. I’m surprised that Kit forgot to mention that,” you said looking him in the eye. Kit could already tell that he was in trouble by the bite in your tone and the look in your eye. “Yeah, the drink must’ve made my mind a bit fuzzy. You all enjoy yourselves.” He walked you to a corner in the room. “Baby, you know better than anyone that I love you and only you.” “I know, Kit but I don’t want to hear that right now. You broke a rule.”

“I’m not supposed to allow another to touch me or flirt with me without showing or telling them that I’m against it. I remember, okay and I know you’re probably going to make sure I get taught the lesson that I deserve. I understand.” He kissed your forehead and you let out a sigh. “Did you do this on purpose?” “No,” he said reluctantly. You knew you didn’t have proof but you’ve seen the expression on his face way too many times to know he was lying. “Kit, you’re lying.” He tilted his head and looked at you. “Am I, Mrs. Walker?” You hated how hot that sounded coming from his mouth. “I think we should leave now,” you said smoothly.

He smiled. “I think we should too.” You both went around telling everyone you were leaving and smiling and waving goodbye to them. You went out the door together and you couldn’t wait until you got home. When you finally did, you kicked off your heels and threw down your purse. Kit locked the door and you pushed him on the couch. You knew he allowed you to and that he loved to see you like this. You kissed him roughly, toying with his tongue and tugging his hair. He moaned in your mouth and wrapped his arms around you. You placed hickies on his neck and shoulder blade, straddling him as you did so.

You were satisfied with the obvious boner you had produced and you held him close to you then whispered in his ear. “I want you in our bedroom fully undressed. I don’t want to see even a fragment of clothing on your body or you won’t get to cum at all, okay?” “Yes.” You got off of him. “Yes what, Kit?” “Yes, Mrs. Walker.” You loved his accent and smiled once you saw him walk off to your shared room. You decided not to give him the courteous action of removing all of your clothing and you only removed your panties. You cleared your mind so you could focus on being the dominant version of yourself instead of the switch you were used to being mostly every time.

You sighed before walking in your bedroom to see a very naked Kit Walker laying on the bed as he was directed to do. “Sit on the edge of the bed for me. You’re gonna watch me touch myself and you’re not gonna make a sound. I just want you to watch.” He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes on you the whole time. You got in the bed, lifting up the skirt of your dress and showing your glistening cunt. You looked Kit in the eyes as you let your fingers circle around your clit, letting out a soft moan as your mind was filled with thoughts of him, dominating him.

You let a finger slip inside you, your other hand tweaking your nipple through your dress. He was already dripping pre cum from watching you, his breath becoming more prominent as you continued. You slipped in another finger, curling them and trying your best to reach the spot you needed your fingers at the most. You were almost there, focused on watching your husband and thinking of how good he would feel inside of you. Your fingers went back and forth and your eyes started to roll from your ministrations. “K-Kit come here.”

He did as you asked, laying beside you and watching you. You were frustrated from the fact that your fingers weren’t enough and how badly you needed Kit. You removed your fingers from yourself, sitting on Kit’s lap and lowering yourself on his cock. He did his best not to make a sound, biting his lip until it drew blood. “Kit, I want to hear you through this whole entire experience. Don’t ever withhold your sounds from me, okay.” “I won’t, Mrs. Walker.” You stayed just like that, loving the fullness that he made you feel and tangling your fingers into his hair. You would shift around unexpectedly, making Kit groan. “Why did you let those women flirt with you and pretend like I wasn’t there?”

“I didn’t want to make them feel bad and be rude towards them. I was trying to be polite.” You huffed, not fully satisfied from his response. “You made me upset, Kit. You disappointed me and I’m going to make sure you get a good punishment for it so you can be taught a lesson.” You kissed his cheek, looking at his flushed skin. You got off of him. “Turn on your stomach for me. I’m going to spank you and you’re not only going to take it but you’re going to thank me for it. I don’t want to hear a sound from you while I do it. If I even think I hear your voice, I will make sure to give you double the amount of lashings I have in mind to give you. Now, do you want me to use a flogger or a belt?” “Flogger.”

You went to the drawer and got a flogger from it, squeezing the fat of his ass before you started spanking him. You switched from the flogger to your hand, looking at how the pale color on his cheeks started to become a pretty pink. “You’re doing so good for me, Kit.” You knew that it got to him by the way that he squirmed a little. He was a sucker for being praised. You threw the flogger on the floor, deciding that using your hand for the last three lashes was good enough. You hit him repeatedly, finally pulling a hushed ‘fuck’ from him only for him to mask it with a cough. “I’ll let you slide for that since you took all my orders and obeyed me but you won’t be able to do that again, Kit.” You got up, tapping his back as a signal for him to turn around.

You found the suit he’d worn to the wedding on the ground and took the tie. You didn’t need to explain to Kit what you were going to do. He already knew as soon as he saw you get on the floor. You got up, tying his wrists to the bedposts, a triumphant smirk on your face. Your husband was also a sucker for physical touch. “Got anything to say, sweet boy,” you questioned mockingly. “I would’ve used my belt instead but you of course already knew that.”

Flashbacks of Kit tying you up using his belt filled your imagination. He always did that whenever he was extremely sexually frustrated. You knew what he was trying to do but you couldn’t let him get to you. You both took months between being dominant and submissive with a few small weeks for switch days. This was your month and he wasn’t about to kick you out of it.

You lifted the skirt of your dress and lowered yourself onto him, wrapping your hand around his throat as you started an appropriate pace. “You’re so pretty like this, underneath me with my hand around your neck.” He was in pure euphoria as you rode him, his eyes staring into yours as he lazily bucked his hips up to meet your movements. You loved and hated him for it. He was making you moan and cry out when he wasn’t even trying. You were crumbling on his cock but he was too. He just was better at hiding it. You let go of his neck, putting one of your hands in his hair and playing with the strands. You lowered your head, marking his sweet spots up. “F-Fuck, Y/N. M-Mrs. Walker.” You silently congratulated yourself for making him this cute little moaning mess of a man.

“Yes?” His eyebrows knitted together as he tried his best to form a coherent sentence. “May I cum.” You could feel him pulsing inside you, practically pleading for release but you weren’t going to let him that easily. “Uh uh, you h-have to answer my questions first.” He was so deep in you and you knew you wouldn’t be able to stabilize yourself much longer before your legs gave out. “Who do you belong to?” “Mm, you.” You smiled. “You love those other women.” “N-No, only you. I love you.” You went a bit faster and rolled your hips, watching the way your husband’s eyes rolled. “Y/N,” his voice said, almost in a whimper. “Say it again and tell me who you love.” “Mm, I love you. I b-belong to only you.” “Go ahead and cum, Kit. You d-deserve it.”

You both met your release at the same time. You kissed him as you did, feeling his cum shoot inside you. When you came down from your highs, you took the tie off of his wrists and felt him hug you. He kissed your cheek and lifted you off of him before getting up. “Where are you going,” you questioned. “I’m gonna clean you.” You were greeted with a cleaner Kit, a smile on his face as he cleaned your thighs and what lied in between them. He then went away to put the cloth in the washer, climbing back in the bed with you. He laid on his back, watching you as you threw off your dress. You were fully naked now, a smile on your face. You then laid on top of his chest, cherishing the skin to skin contact.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” “Mm hmm,” he said in response, wrapping an arm around you. “Why?” “Because I knew that it’d work and I love to see you worked up over things. Dominance looks sexy on you.” You kissed his chest. “Just don’t do it again, okay. It really made me upset, made me think that you didn’t care about my emotions for a second.” His face softened. “You know that I care for you and I would never try to hurt you. I’d never want to be with those women. They aren’t you.” You smiled at him. “I know, I know.” “Besides, I’d never find a person who’d deliver such a fun night quite like you.” “Yeah?” He nodded. “Yeah, I may have to break the rules again if that’s gonna be the outcome. You’re gonna be the death of me, Mrs. Walker. You make me enjoy your punishments too much.”

You playfully straddled him in response. “Don’t make me reconsider being this sweet to you. I can make you a whining mess in a millisecond.” You felt something hard underneath you and looked down. “Kit, we just had a whole session.” He smirked. “Your fault for being so hot. Let’s fix this in the shower, yeah?” And just like that, you were showering with Kit although it was obvious that neither of you were going to get clean.

#kit walker #kit walker smut #kit walker x y/n #kit walker x you #kit walker x reader #ahs smut #ahs fanfic #american horror story #anon request #anon reply

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thatwitchrevan · 2 years

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My dad watching Matrix Resurrections: idk it was weird and different and didn't work for me :/

Me watching Matrix Resurrections: must a movie be good? Is it not enough that Trinity and Neo have heart eyes and Morpheus wears a very orange suit?

#griffin watches things #the matrix #the matrix resurrections #the difference between a lifelong fan and a brand new fan ig #i watched the original matrix w my dad about a week before i saw the new one #I can't even argue whether or not resurrections is a good continuation #it doesn't really matter to me #I've only seen the first and most recent film #and to me resurrections succeeded when it entertianed me and made me think about life in the same ways the matrix did #but he has seen these films dozens of times or more and put so much thought into them #so our perspectives are equally valid and important #the lifelong fan viewpoint is essential bc res is an anticpated sequel to a beloved film #it is meant to be a culmination of that love and legacy #but the new fan perspective is equally essential #because the new film is meant to take the matrix to a bran new audience #a young and modern one #and also there's the meta discussion of should this film even have been made #was lana even satisfied making it? would it have been better if she had not? or is it worth having #even if she didn't originally want to make it?#i do wish my dad liked the movie so we could enjoy it together #and so he could have a revival of one of his favorite franchises that makes him happy #but i think if everyone liked the new matrix it would be a different film and maybe not as interesting

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hotpinkhoshi · 3 years

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kiss it better | five

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: tw for death, death of a parent, reference to drug addiction

word count: 4.5k

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi babies thank you for your patience, i know it’s been many many months since i’ve updated! the last time i posted for kib was all the way back in may, which is crazy, i know. but life has been weird and it’s been difficult for me to find the motivation to write. it’s slowly coming back for me and i’m so glad you guys have stuck around with me even if i haven’t been consistent. i’m more grateful than you know!

✩ index here ✩

“She did what?” Dahyun asked, her bite of gimbap nearly falling right out of her mouth.

Youngjae threw his head back and broke into laughter entirely at Mark’s expense.

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and refused to look up at his friends, focusing awfully hard on the sketch he’d been working on in between appointments. He quickly realized that they had absolutely no sympathy for him.

“Yeah.”

It had been two weeks already since that night, and Mark was just now feeling comfortable enough to spill what had happened after he took you home. He liked to take his own time to process his thoughts before he revealed them to others, and quite frankly, he hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But he was starting to think maybe he needed an outside perspective.

“She has guts,” Youngjae said, after finally pulling himself upright in his chair. “Was it good?”

“Dude,” Mark warned, far from amused.

Dahyun cut in. “It’s a good enough question. From what I’ve seen, you guys have some intense sexual tension. If the kiss was hot, maybe it’s worth exploring.”

“We don’t have sexual tension,” Mark defended.

Youngjae snorted.

“Sure. But, let’s say if you did, and the kiss was good…” Dahyun trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows.

Groaning, Mark tapped the end of his pencil against the desk. He glanced up at the wall, his eyes naturally drawn to the photo of your shoulder, of the tattoo he’d designed and permanently inked onto your skin. It wasn’t the only photo he had pinned up of his previous work, but it was the one he looked at the most.

“She’s a kid,” he said, little to no conviction in his voice.

But you weren’t a kid. Mark knew in every way, you were an adult. Even mentally, emotionally, you seemed more mature than he felt most days. Packing up your belongings because you refused to live a life you weren’t satisfied with? He couldn’t imagine anything more grown up than that.

“Mark,” Youngjae’s tone was firm, serious this time. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if you have chemistry with someone. I know it may not be the most convenient girl for you, but… you’ve been by yourself for a long time. You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely.”

He hadn’t thought he was lonely until you came into his life. He had been fine, so fine, living on his own. Waking up alone, eating dinner alone, focusing on his work and living one day to the next.

But now, he looked forward to the sound of your keys in the door when you got home from your evening shift. He bought your favorite brand of orange juice instead of his. He didn’t mind watching outlandish and obviously fake reality shows if it meant that he got to hear your commentary along with it. More than anything, he’d gotten used to the way you made him feel. In the simplest of terms, he was happy.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark said. “I already fucked it up.”

Dahyun narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”

He rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead, relaying the conversation he’d had with Taehyung that night to his friends. The exchange wasn’t longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough for Mark to potentially ruin everything you’d built for yourself in the last couple of months.

“I didn’t tell him everything - I couldn’t do that. But I told him I’d seen her in the city, that I thought maybe she worked in one of the restaurants near the shop…” A knot of guilt coiled in his stomach. “Fuck.”

He’d just wanted to do the right thing. You were young, you couldn’t see that your parents cared about you. Taehyung cared about you. They deserved to know where you were, especially after everything they had done for him. He could at least point them in the right direction.

“Well, shit,” Youngjae offered, a sympathetic frown on his face.

“I fucked her over, and I haven’t been able to look her in the eye since. We’ve just avoided each other for the last two weeks and I-” Mark heaved a breath, leaning back in his chair. “I hate it.”

He missed you. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

“I have an idea,” Dahyun said, her whole body perking up. “Don’t look at me like that, sometimes I have good ideas. Why don’t you invite her along for Yugyeom’s camping trip?”

“You mean the couple thing?”

Dahyun sighed. “It’s not a couple thing. It’s just… everyone there is part of a couple. Anyway, it might be a good way to make things less awkward.”

Mark blinked a few times, waiting for Dahyun to say ‘just kidding’ because it was an absolutely ridiculous idea. “What? How would that make things any less awkward?”

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity to break the tension. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mark scowled.

You spent your entire shift thinking about Mark. Thinking about how you had completely messed up your relationship, and trying to figure out how to fix it all. It had been a stupid, drunken mistake, and you would take it back in a heartbeat if you could.

The past two weeks had been torture, tiptoeing around and trying your hardest to avoid him. You’d picked up extra shifts almost every day, figuring that if you were working, at least you didn’t have to pretend like everything was normal.

All you wanted was to come home, curl up on the couch with Milo and watch your favorite ridiculous TV shows while Mark snickered next to you, entertained by the disgustingly wealthy families on the screen no matter how much he pretended to hate it. You wanted to be able to lean into him, feel the body heat radiating off of him when his shoulder brushed yours.

You missed Mark. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud.

After much debating, you decided that the best way to apologize started with food. And you owed him, anyway, after he opened his home to you and let you stay there free of charge. A dinner was the least you could do.

You could tell once you walked into Paradise Tattoo just before closing time that Mark hadn’t been expecting you in the slightest. He was at the desk, going over papers with Dahyun, when the bell dinged to signal your entrance.

In his ripped jeans and muscle tee, all of his tattoos were on display for you, even the large quote he had inked onto his ribcage. You gulped and shoved your feelings down. That would only make things worse.

“Hi,” you said, greeting both Mark and Dahyun.

“Hey.” Mark scratched his head and straightened his posture. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” you started, wringing your hands in front of you. “I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner? On me. I owe you, anyway.”

Dahyun piped up, a mischievous smirk on her lips, “That’s a great idea. Mark was just talking about how hungry he was.

Mark cleared his throat and shot his co-worker what looked suspiciously like a glare. “No, I’m fine. You really don’t have to-”

“Come on,” you said, hiding a smile. “How about burgers? There’s a good place around the corner. It won’t kill you to let me pay, will it?”

You could see Mark weigh his options as he chewed his lip. Either end up hungry, settling for some quick frozen food later on, or bite the bullet and let you pay for his dinner. You knew it would hurt his pride to do so, but you wouldn’t back down. It was more than just the free room and board that you wanted to make up for.

“Alright,” he finally agreed. “Let me grab my stuff.”

It only took less than ten minutes for you to walk down to the burger place, but it felt like an hour as awkward silence hung around the two of you. It wasn’t until you were both seated at a corner booth inside the restaurant that you finally spoke up.

“Listen, Mark,” you said, looking up from the packet of ketchup you’d been nervously squishing between your fingers. “About that night…”

“No, you don’t-” Mark was quick to interrupt, but you held your hand up.

“Just let me, okay?” You sighed.

You’d rehearsed these words countless times in the bathroom mirror, and right now it felt like they were slipping right out of your fingers. Where were you supposed to start? With the kiss, straight away? Or getting so drunk that you’d needed to be taken care of in the first place?

“I’m just… really sorry. I was stupid to drink that much and it’s not your job to watch after me. I should be able to take care of myself.”

Mark stopped you again. “I didn’t mind taking care of you.”

“But it’s not your job, Mark. I’m an adult, and you’re letting me stay with you and asking for nothing in return. The least I could do is make it easy on you.”

“Y/N, if you could have seen me at your age, you wouldn’t feel so bad. We all get drunk and stupid sometimes,” Mark said with a shrug. It almost relieved some of your guilt until you remembered the kiss in the bathroom.

“Well...” You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for this one. “I really shouldn’t have ki-”

“Hi! My name’s Lana, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two something to drink while you look over the menus?”

A cheerful brunette appeared in front of you, a pen behind her ear and a wide grin plastered on her face. You glanced at Mark, then up at your waitress, not sure if you were grateful for the interruption or not.

“Um, can I just have a water?” you asked, voice small and uncomfortable in your throat.

“Same for me,” Mark agreed.

“Perfect! Let me know if you have any questions about the menu!”

You let out a long breath before you were able to look at Mark again. He was biting his cheek, his lips all twisted and holding back a laugh.

“What?” you asked.

“Her timing,” Mark got out, just as he let go of his laughter, throwing his head back.

To your own surprise, you found yourself shaking with laughter as well. Either from Mark’s contagious laugh giggle or the simple ridiculousness of the situation. Here you were, in a burger restaurant, apologizing to your older brother’s best friend for kissing him while you were heavily intoxicated.

You covered your face with your hands to suppress your own laughter, letting your back slump against the cushions of the booth. It all came to you then, just how silly you’d been the last two weeks.

“I am sorry, though,” you said, after you both settled down.

Mark’s eyes glinted as he watched you from across the table, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. “It’s alright. I mean it. Last time I was that drunk, I’m pretty sure I ran around the block in my underwear singing the Canadian national anthem.”

You giggled again at the mental image. “What? How did you even-”

“No idea. It’s like I was possessed by a drunk Canadian mischief demon.”

It was strange to imagine Mark and Taehyung in their teen years, since you’d been so young at the time, you could barely remember anything from that time of your life. You remembered Taehyung wearing the same pair of purple skinny jeans for three months because a girl at school had told him she liked them.

You remembered Taehyung letting you sit in the basement in your favorite cushioned chair while he and Mark played video games on the big screen. It had been your favorite place to read then, tuning out the rambunctious cries of defeat while you got lost in other worlds.

“So we’re okay, then?” you asked, after Lana had come back to take your order and left once more.

Mark nodded, a genuine smile on his lips. “We’re okay.”

“Maybe it’s weird, but…” you began, staring down at the wrapped silverware on the table instead of looking Mark in the eye. “Even though I grew up seeing you as Taehyung’s friend, that feels like a lifetime ago. And now I just kind of see you as… my friend. Like somebody I can trust.”

When you finally looked up at Mark, his expression was unreadable. His bottom lip was between his teeth, but his eyes looked somewhat uncomfortable. You worried for a second that you’d crossed a line.

“I owe a lot to your family,” Mark said after another long moment passed.

Even though you didn’t remember much about Mark from your childhood years, you knew his upbringing had been rough. His parents had been addicts, the kind that never should’ve been together, let alone bring a child into the world.

You’d never met his mom, but your own mother had made enough snide comments about her after Mark had gone home for you to understand just what kind of person she was.

“One of those low life, worthless drug addicts. Sleeping around with anyone that can help her out, if you know what I mean. Never should’ve been a mother.”

She had a funny way of showing her compassion sometimes.

Taehyung brought him over once after school and your mother had gotten one look at his threadbare clothes and hollow cheeks and taken him in as her new project. At first, he ate dinner with your family almost every night, and then she started making Taehyung pass over his any extra clothes he’d gotten that didn’t fit properly or that he simply didn’t like.

Mark did owe a lot to your family.

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so young there was no way you could take credit for anything your parents had done for Mark, but still, you itched to comfort him. Even now, with the unsaid words lingering in the air, you sensed that he had never been able to fully open up to anybody. Though you didn’t deserve it, you wanted to be the first.

“Your mom,” you found yourself saying. “Is she…?”

Mark shook his head. “She’s gone. Passed away a couple years ago.”

Your face fell. If anything, you had expected her to have taken off for good or maybe gotten into some trouble she couldn’t get herself out of, but you hadn’t expected her to be gone.

“Oh, god, Mark. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

To your surprise, he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I hadn’t seen her in a long time before that. Maybe two, three years. Then my aunt showed up on my doorstep with a box of her things and told me she OD’d in a gas station parking lot a week before.”

His voice wavered only slightly, but enough to tell you he cared more than he let on. You could only imagine how painful it would be to hear of your own mother’s passing a week after the fact.

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

Mark shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s weird,” he said, tongue running over his lower lip as he paused. “I’d stopped seeing her as my mother so long ago that… I felt like I’d already mourned her death. Fuck, that sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“No,” you answered as you reached across the table, fingers laying across the back of Mark’s hand. “It doesn’t. At all.”

A moment passed between the two of you. You caught Mark’s eyes glancing down at your hand resting on his skin, but he made no move to avoid your touch.

“I never even went through her things. The box is just sitting at the back of my bedroom closet collecting dust.”

“Do you want to go through her things?” you asked.

Mark paused, chewing at the inside of his lip before he answered. “I don’t know.”

You nodded, somehow understanding exactly what he meant. Though you hadn’t gone through the same thing, you were familiar with avoiding a potentially painful and uncomfortable situation by simply pretending it didn’t exist. Hence why you had four unopened voicemails from your brother and parents.

You found yourself stroking the back of Mark’s hand with your thumb. It didn’t feel wrong to touch him like this, even though maybe it should have. All you wanted was to bring him a shred of the comfort he had deserved to have for much longer than you’d known him.

“Alrighty, and here we’ve got the bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries for the lady,” Lana exclaimed, immediately bursting your bubble as she returned to your table with your food balanced on a tray. You were quick to snatch your hand from Mark’s. “And a BBQ cheddar burger with curly fries for the handsome man.”

You didn’t miss the way Lana winked as she placed Mark’s food in front of him. This girl was not getting a generous tip from you, that was for sure.

“I told you, after that depressing dinner conversation, we need to do something fun,” you told Mark as you carried your skincare basket out from the bathroom into the living room.

“And this is fun for who?”

You threw him a playful glance and plopped down onto the floor in front of the couch on your knees, setting your basket on the cushion and sifting through it.

“Both of us. Just trust me.”

Catching the skeptic look on Mark’s face, you could only grin to yourself as you pulled out a tube of your favorite clay mask. He didn’t know just how relaxing a good face mask could be, but you were willing to show him.

“I’ll even go first,” you told him.

Mark lifted his feet to prop them up on the coffee table as Milo curled up like a tiny ball of cotton on his lap. You’d both changed out of your work clothes into comfy clothes, and you couldn’t help noticing how warm Mark looked in his white joggers and oversized black hoodie. You wouldn’t mind snuggling up into that space between his side and the couch cushion…

You sighed and shook your head, attempting to clear the less-than-platonic thoughts from your mind. If you were going to make this friendship work, you would need to stop thinking about him like that. Immediately.

“Can I ask you something?” Mark said after a beat of silence as you popped open the cap to your mask.

“Hm?” you asked, propping your personal sized makeup mirror on the couch so that you could see yourself while you applied your mask.

“Yugyeom’s family has a yearly pass to this campground, and every year he does this weekend camping trip…” he trailed off for a moment and you forced yourself not to react, instead focusing on applying your charcoal mask to your cheeks. “This year, it somehow ended up as a couple thing, so Dahyun suggested I invited a friend along. So…”

Lifting your eyes from your own reflection, you watched as Mark struggled to finish his thought.

“So…” you said, helping him along. “Are you asking me to come with you?”

Immediately, a neon flashing red alarm screeched in your mind. ‘This is a terrible idea! You must say no!’ it screamed.

“Only if you want to. I mean, it’s a cool place. Their lot is right by this swimming hole and there’s a fire pit, so we normally bring a ton of booze and cook our own food over the fire…”

Mark ran his fingers through his deep red locks of hair, his nerves displayed clearly on his face. You weren’t sure why he was so nervous to ask you, but it came off as incredibly endearing. Despite the warnings blaring in your mind, you found yourself nodding.

“Okay.”

Mark looked at you then, his eyes finally locking on yours, and the corner of his lips lifted in a hopeful smile. “Really?”

You couldn’t help grinning as well. “Yeah. I mean, on one condition…”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” you replied, holding up the mask tube and popping the cap back open. “You let me put this mask on you.”

“Aish,” Mark said and shook his head. “No way. Not worth it.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby!”

You stood from the floor and climbed onto the couch, crawling to his side and squeezing some of the mask onto your index and middle fingers. “It’s not that bad!”

“Get away from me!” Mark exclaimed with a laugh, dodging your fingers. Milo hopped up onto the arm of the couch, stomping his cute little paws a few times.

“Just let me pamper you, Mark!”

He let out another laugh, louder this time, trying to reach for the mask to steal from your grasp, but he wasn’t fast enough. You giggled, ducking to miss his hands as he grabbed for your wrists.

Somehow, you found yourself straddling him, thighs resting on either side of Mark’s waist.

“Real men wear face masks!” you exclaimed with a shout of victory as you finally managed to smear a good amount of the clay mask across Mark’s left cheek.

“Oh, you little-” he replied, hands reaching for your sides underneath the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. He tickled your sides, a joyful laugh falling from his lips when you started squealing.

Milo yapped a few times from the arm of the chair, presumably because he thought that you were hurting Mark or vice versa, but his protective barks only made you laugh harder.

“Mark! Stop it!”

You gasped for breath, wriggling on top of him and dropping the mask tube, fighting between giggling and trying to swat his hands away.

“It’s what you deserve, you sneak,” he said, his hands still squeezing and tickling your sides, unknowingly drifting further up your shirt to your ribs.

Twisting and turning, you finally managed to grab his wrists and yanked them from under your shirt. You held them firmly in between your bodies, even though he could have easily overpowered you.

Your chest heaved up and down with the last of your giggles. Mark stared up at you, still smiling and out of breath. The air suddenly became thick as you held eye contact, your hands falling from his wrists to his chest.

“Y/N,” Mark whispered.

‘Danger! Danger!’ your mind yelled.

Mark’s hands, now free from your hold, landed on your hips. You felt his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your stomach. Your heart pounded beneath your rib cage at his gentle touch.

“Mark,” you said, intending on telling him to stop, but it quickly died in your throat.

His chin tipped up, making you realize just how close you were to him now. You weren’t sure who had leaned in first, but only a few mere inches separated your lips from his now. If you only bent forward a bit, you could…

It reminded you, all of the sudden, of the kiss in the bathroom. It had been quick, but long enough for you to slide your tongue past his lips. You remembered the shock to your system the moment you had felt the cold metal of a tongue piercing.

“Y/N,” Mark said again. “Tell me to stop.”

His voice was quiet but you felt like you could read between the lines. He didn’t want to stop, and the only way he was going to stop was if you made it clear that you didn’t want this.

But you did. You’d wanted it from the moment he ran his fingers over the tattoo he’d inked onto your skin one of those first nights, a soft ghost of a touch that made goosebumps form on every inch of your skin.

You weren’t stupid, you knew that this was all wrong for a variety of reasons, the least of which being that he was your roommate. But that meant nothing to you compared to the way his hands felt on your skin.

Before you could open your mouth, tell him that you didn’t want him to stop, an 8-bit version of the Mario Kart theme blasted from somewhere behind you. You jumped, your heart skipping several beats from the surprise.

Mark took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking a few times before he gently guided your hips to climb off of him. “Sorry, I should…”

The ringtone felt familiar but you couldn’t figure out why. Even as you watched Mark grab for his phone off the coffee table and immediately silence it, you wracked your brain to try and remember where you had heard that ringtone before.

It was as if Taehyung had known, the moment that Mark quieted the little voice in his head telling him not to be so close to you and that this was wrong in so many ways, and finally accepted his feelings for you.

Maybe he had a sixth sense.

The moment that had passed between you then had been effectively ruined as soon as he was reminded of two things: you were his childhood best friend’s little sister, and he had already ruined your life even if you didn’t know it yet.

But he’d been so close to giving in. You’d been on top of him, smiling in that innocently beautiful way that you did, your thighs caging in his hips. He hadn’t missed the fact that he could feel you with every inch of him, considering how he’d begged his body not to react, not to harden beneath you. Between the thin layers of his sweats and your sleep shorts, there was no way you wouldn’t notice.

Later, after you’d grabbed a washcloth so you could both wipe the face mask off your faces and awkwardly watch TV for an hour before enough time could pass for you to realistically head off to bed, Mark listened to the voicemail Taehyung had left.

“Hey man. I just wanted to let you know that uh, I’m going to try and head to the city and look for Y/N in a few weeks. If you see her again or have any idea where she might be, let me know. I really appreciate it, my mom’s been going crazy… anyway, maybe we can grab a drink or something once I’m in town. I’ll hit you up. Thanks again, Mark.”

Mark was glad he was in the privacy of his own bedroom when he listened to the message so you didn’t see the way he threw his phone down on the bed, muttering curse words to himself and trying to forget how heavenly you had felt on top of him.

It was impossible. All he could think about was your skin under his fingertips, how your lips had been so soft and smooth and close to his, and how the weight of you on top of him had been enough to make him hard.

His only option was to shut himself in the bathroom and crank the shower all the way to the coldest temperature that he could stand and pray that it would be enough to keep him from sneaking into your bedroom that night.

#mark tuan #got7creators #kibfic #got7 fanfic #mark tuan fanfic #mark tuan angst #mark tuan fluff #got7 mark #got7 imagine #writing

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irisofpurple · 3 years

Text

Good Girl

Summary: What happens when Lana comes home to Ethan, fashionably late after a girls night?

Book: Open Heart Book 3 (post ending)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey×f!MC (Lana Stevens)

Word Count: 2k.

Warnings/Rating: Smut, Swearing, NSFW; Explicit.

A/N: This is pure filth and nothing but filth. A self indulgent produce of my very Scorpio brain and the smuttiest fic I've ever written. I'm not exactly sorry but you've been warned jskssjjkkhhssk. It follows up after New Look, which was my first ever Pictagram edit. I suppose you can still read this if you missed that though. Hope you enjoy reading!

This work is NSFW and meant for 18+ readers only. Please use discretion.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

A rush of giddy excitement hit her as she turned the keys to his apartment, making her stumble slightly at the doorstep as she entered.

Alcohol from the countless shots Jackie made them do was still hot and pumping through her veins. In her drunken haze, Sienna had actually convinced her to keep the wig on.

She adjusted it slightly before she realised she'd stepped into pin drop silence, the moonlight streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows the only source of light cutting through the darkness.

A quick glance at her watch told her it was 2:30 AM. Way past Ethan's bedtime.

Her stomach dropped. The girls night had went on longer than she'd anticipated. They'd gotten a bit carried away between gossiping and drinking to new beginnings. It had been a while since they'd had a relaxing night as this after all.

As fun as that was, what Lana was really looking forward to tonight was seeing Ethan. All that teasing had made her as hot as she'd hoped to have made him. She wanted to leave right then but it wouldn't have been fair to her friends.

Her shoulders slumped. It was no use now.

She turned head into the bedroom, the knowledge that she'd find him peacefully asleep making her heart sink a little.

"You're late."

The familiar rumble of his voice echoed through the room, making her gasp in surprise and turn back around.

There he was. Sitting at the bar with a glass of scotch nestled in his hand.

Her heart jumped in her throat, a fresh surge of adrenaline coursing through her, renewing her excitement even more than before.

The contrasting shadows and moonlight highlighted his already sharp jawline, making him look more beautiful than ever.

Slowly, he rose from his seat, drawing nearer to her, his dark predatory gaze never leaving her. She wasn't able to look away either, her belly clenching with anticipation with every step he took.

She shivered as he ran his fingers though the red hair, his blue eyes going the deepest shade of sapphire possible.

"You're still wearing it, I see." he muttered darkly, a dangerous edge to his voice.

A slow smirk spread across her face. She knew no joy like seeing Ethan Ramsey tethering on the edge in a struggle for control.

And she'd make sure he fell over tonight.

"I thought you'd fallen asleep." she said, feigning nonchalance, pointedly ignoring his observation.

In a sudden movement, he pulled her hand by the wrist to the front of his pants, making her feel his hardness though the fabric.

"Do you know how hard it is to sleep like this?" He said through gritted teeth.

Lana was unfazed. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as she stared right back into those celestial blues.

"I can only imagine." She murmured huskily as her fingers caressed him ever so slightly, confidence oozing through her as he twitched violently at her touch.

He pulled her hand away and onto his chest, having realized that his move had backfired.

"You made me wait." He accused, his rebellious gaze dropping to her lips.

"I think I know exactly how to make up for it." Lana said with coquettish smirk.

She captured his lips soon after, not letting him a chance to say anything more. Her hands travelled down to palm his bulge once more, making him groan against her lips. Tongues tangled in a desperate battle for dominance, their need for each other assuming more importance than air for a few breathless moments.

Lana pushed him onto the couch, looking down at him with a devilish smile as she pulled off her wig, shaking free her natural blonde curls. They fell around her shoulders gracefully as Ethan watched her with an awestruck look on his face, all traces of resistance gone. She took off her top next, taking delight in his sharp intake of breath as her breasts spilled free before his reverent eyes, following to straddle his lap and continue kissing him with abandon.

Her lips trailed down the corded muscles of his neck, sucking and biting as she goes. Ethan's hands meanwhile were firmly gripping her waist, another one inching underneath her skirt, closer and closer to her soaked core.

But she wouldn't let him get there. Not yet.

His shirt flew across the living room in a matter of seconds and then she on her knees before him, her lips having left a wet trail of kisses all over his chest and abs.

She unbuckled his belt with deft fingers, pulling down the redundant material of his trousers. His cock sprung free, jutting out in all it's glory, demanding immediate attention.

Her delicate fingers gripped him firmly, pumping him a few times torturously.

"Lana.." Ethan groaned helplessly.

She gave him a smile that she knew he found devastating.

"Feel free to pull my hair." she said as she moved to give a long luscious lick along his length.

Her blood red lips were wrapped around his cock the next second, causing Ethan's hips to buck up involuntarily. His fingers tangled in her hair, making her hum around him in satisfaction.

She was on her knees but the one surrendering was Ethan, completely at her mercy. That knowledge was as beholding as it was empowering.

She sank down the length of him, hollowing out her cheeks, relishing every grunt and moan that escaped his throat as she took him deeper into her own.

She repeated the motion, working him up, not letting the involuntary gags or tears brimming in her eyes stop her from taking him where she wanted.

Keeping eye contact, she realised him with a dizzying pop only to suck on his heavy balls till they were as wet as his now glistening cock.

The look of sheer adoration mixed with lust and frustration on his face had to the hottest thing she'd ever witnessed. It made her own folds drip with arousal.

Her tongue flicked across the slit of his tip, before her warm mouth engulfed him once more to bob down his steely length with determination, taking him all the way in.

"Sweetheart, you're going to make me.. FUCKK!"

His grip on her hair tightened, almost to the point of pain. It only served to excite her more. She didn't let up till he emptied himself down her throat, cursing as he shook and came like never before.

She licked him clean, not leaving a single drop.

She felt breathless and a little punch drunk as he pulled her up and into his arms, kissing her tenderly, softly caressing her cheek and wiping away the tears.

He pulled back to look at her, concern etching his handsome face. "Are you okay?"

She laughed. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

He seemed satisfied with her answer because the look of worry gave way to a roguish smirk.

"Just needed to be sure cause I'm not done with you yet."

"Wha-"

"Shhh." He silenced her with his fingers. "You had your way with me, didn't you? Now it's my turn."

"But.." her query died in a moan as Ethan's fingers found her dripping core.

"Damn." He hissed. "How are you already so wet?"

Lana was in no shape to answer because his thumb was working her clit in maddening circles, excruciating pleasure rippling through her as two fingers curled into her slick passage.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as his skillful fingers moved over her with precision and expertise, over and over again. Just when she was about to reach her peak however, he ceased all movements.

Lana cried out in disappointment from the sudden loss of sensations.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at him in frustration.

Ethan only smiled. "You didn't think I'd let you get away with all that teasing so fast, did you?"

"What do you-"

"Hush, my darling. I said it was my turn. You made me wait for you all evening. Now close your eyes."

"But-"

"No arguments." He said firmly.

Lana hesitantly shut her eyes, the ache between her legs getting unbearable with each passing second.

"Good girl." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Don't move an inch and keep your eyes shut. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" she cried. "You can't leave me like this."

"Don't you trust me, my love?" He chastened.

Lana gulped. "I do but.."

"No buts then. I promise I'll make it worth your while but no cheating or this ends here."

"No!" Lana shook her head. "I'll do as you say."

"That's my girl."

She heard his footsteps fade away as she struggled to stay still. She was tempted to take a peek and more anything else, touch herself and soothe the throb between her legs. She could get off so easily right now.

But she didn't dare disobey. The wait and build up made her wetter and more turned on than she'd ever been.

Her breath came in shallow pants as she waited and by the time he was back, she felt like one touch would be enough to make her explode.

He secured a silky fabric across her eyes and she heard a low click of glass on the surface of the table.

What the hell was that?

Her heart pounded in her chest and her sex clenched in anticipation.

"Hands above your head and don't move. Or I'll have to tie you up."

She nodded eagerly, following his instructions. "Please Ethan."

He chuckled. "Patience, my love. If there's anything I learnt tonight, it's that waiting makes everything better."

She gasped as she felt his lips on her inner thighs, his beard deliciously scraping her skin as he kissed her everywhere but where she needed him most. It was too much but not enough.

His fingers hooked around the lace of her panties. "As pretty as these are, they have to go."

A loud rip followed, tearing through the room and informing her that her panties were definitely in shreds.

"That was.." she choked out, almost in alarm, unable to finish her sentence. But Ethan seemed to understand her concern.

"I'll buy you more." He grunted.

She felt warm liquid slosh onto her chest, flowing down slowly between the valley of her breasts and down her belly, making her entire body tingle.

Her back arched as the flow inched closer to her pulsing core. She moaned out loud as it finally reached it's destination, suddenly cooling her hot sex.

Ethan's mouth closed on her clit before she could process what was going on.

"Ethannn" She cried out.

She didn't recognize the feline noises escaping her, gasping and moaning for her life as she climbed higher and higher with each masterful stroke of his tongue.

"God. I thought scotch was best had neat. I was wrong. So wrong." He muttered against her sex.

The low rumble vibrated through her body and as soon as his fingers joined the ministrations of his mouth, Lana catapulted over the edge, fireworks exploding behind her eyes and blinding her with hot white pleasure as she came all over his face harder than ever. He didn't stop till all the aftershocks rocking her subsided, letting her ride out her orgasm.

He removed her blindfold and pulled her into his arms, gently kissing the top of her head as she hugged him feebly.

As she caught her breath, her eyes landed on the expensive half empty bottle of scotch and she laughed. "Scotch and sex? Who would've thought?"

Ethan chuckled, running his fingers through her hair. "Me apparently. How did it feel?"

She buried her face in his chest, feeling her face heat. "You know how I felt. I was pretty vocal about it."

Low masculine laughter rumbled through his chest making her heart squeeze and sex clench, like she didn't just have the best orgasm of her life.

She wasn't embarrassed though because she could feel his rock hard errection against her thigh.

She looked up at him mischievously. "Are we ready for a round two?"

She yelped as he lifted her, her thighs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to their bedroom.

"Always."

Whew! I hope you enjoyed reading that. As usual, I'd love to know what you think. Please forgive the mistakes if there are any. I couldn't proofread due to shortage of time.

Tags: @lem-20 @pixie88 @aleynareads @maurine07 @whimsicallywayward15 @lovingramsey @coffeeheartaddict @txemrn @shewillreadyou @aussieez @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @schnitzelbutterfingers @imaneditorthankyouverymuch @mercury84choices @thegreentwin @adiehardfan @custaroonie @headoverheelsforramsey @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

#open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #choices open heart #ethan ramsey × mc #open heart #pixelberry #open heart book 3 #ns*fw #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #play choices

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opheliasbrokenmind · 3 years

Note

maybe a song fic w/ finn, based on “love song” by lana del rey? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

i know it’s been months since i’ve got the ask but what can i say, i’m a slow one :( anywayss i hope you like it and let me know what you think. my requests are always open to those who are kind and willing to wait <3

Growing up in London had a lot to offer you and as a young woman who was down to earth, you’ve accepted the chances with a bright smile on your lips. You always had something with people, easily connecting to them. It didn’t matter they were at the same age as you or they were quite older than you, you found a way to start a conversation. That was going to surprise Finn Shelby since it was hard for him to take the first step.

It wasn’t a surprise you were found in many parties, thanks to the large circle of your friends. One night, you were in the east part, sipping a drink and the other night you were dancing at the other part of the city with a new glistening dress.

Then one night, your close friends decided to leave earlier than usual and you weren’t quick to notice the change. You found yourself with the others, chatting with the new group of people you met hours ago as you finished another glass of champagne. Isaiah, one of the boys you met tonight offered to bring you another drink and you accepted happily, thanking him. As he left for the bar, his friend Finn smiled to you.

‘Hey, how are you doing?’ You asked sincerely as you took a step closer to him, smiling as well. ‘’m doing good,’ He replied and you noticed his accent, ‘Oh, you’re not a Londoner, huh? I’d say... you’re a Brummie?’ You waited for an answer and he nodded, ‘Yes, Small Heath. I guess you grow up here, then?’

‘Right, so what are you doing here in London?’ You asked with curiosity and by that time, Isaiah came back with new drinks. You thanked him, turning back to the charming young man as he thought for an answer, ‘Having fun I guess, just like you.’

‘Oh, you better stick with me if you want to know which parties are the best here.’ You chuckled and sipped your drink, ‘That sounds nice to me, are you doing anything tomorrow?’

‘Why, are you planning to take me out?’ You teased and watched his cheeks turn to a bright red, he smiled shyly, ‘I don’t know, would you like that?’ You gave a soft sigh and moved a bit closer, ‘I’d love that.’

The following day you met at the pictures, then having a cup coffee and soon these meetings became a regular thing. Sometimes he wasn’t in London but every time he got the chance, he found a way to make you happy. Then one day he showed up at your door with some freshly picked flowers and after you took them to the kitchen, you noticed he came with a car this time. ‘That’s new?’ You questioned, pointing the car with your eyes.

‘Oh, yes. Tommy said if I��m going to come here every week to see you then I better had a car of me own.’ With that you couldn’t help but blush lightly, ‘Does your family know about me?’ This time it was Finn’s turn to blush, ‘Well, yes, they know I fancy you.’

The brand new car became the first place he kissed you after a movie night, his lips soft against yours and you felt like you were in a movie, getting embraced by your sweet love interest.

In the car, in the car, in the backseat, I'm your baby We go fast, we go so fast, we don’t move I believe in a place you take me Make you real proud of your baby In your car, I'm a star and I'm burnin’ through you In your car, I'm a star and I'm burnin' through you

It was a starry night when he asked you to be his girlfriend, you were far away from all the noise of the city, somewhere on the road you had no idea where it was going. You leaned in to kiss him again once you were in the backseat, Finn wrapping his arms around you like the first time he kissed you but this time more passionately.

Your friends kept telling how he brought out the calm side of you and you knew they were right, you felt in peace with Finn. The soothing touches of his fingers on your skin made you feel dreamy, his lips being the softest ones you’ve ever got to kiss and you loved his wild soul.

A few months later you were invited to the Arrow House for a party of Tommy’s and this was also going to be your first time with his family. Of course, you met Ada in London and she kept telling the others how cute you two were.

You wanted to make your boyfriend proud so you choose a simple dress, not like the ones you wore to the local parties. It wrapped your curves softly and with some light makeup, you were satisfied with your look on the mirror. Finn smiled when he saw you all dolled up, looking breathtaking as always. ‘You have to make me fall for you again every single time, don’t you?’ He said softly once you were seated in the car, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

‘Don’t boost my ego, I’m nervous and from what you’ve told me about Thomas, he’s going to hate me. Oh, and the same goes for your aunt. I’m the girl stealing you away every week.’ You spoke and watched the road, not seeing the smirk playing on his lips. ‘I think they’ll love you.’

Hours later at the party, you received many compliments from the Shelby family and you thought you never stopped smiling. You were surprised but Finn already knew that would happen, he watched you getting well with new people for months, offering them a smile and starting one conversation after another.

Then it started getting late and you said Tommy you should be heading home because you told your parents you won’t be too late, even though he tried to convince you to spend the night there.

When you got outside and stopped near his car, Finn smiled widely and kissed you like he did for thousand times, The alcohol in your system made you think less so you grabbed his collar, pulling him closer to you and seconds later, you were in the backseat of the car, making out.

Oh, be my once in a lifetime Lyin' on your chest in my party dress I'm a fuckin' mess, but I Oh, thanks for the high life Baby, it's the best, passed the test and yes Now I’m here with you, and I Would like to think that you would stick around You know that I’d just die to make you proud The taste, the touch, the way we love It all comes down to make the sound of our love song

‘Guess I passed the test, huh?’ You whispered happily as he tasted the cherries you ate that night on your lips, his lips tracking your jawline and making their way to your neck, sweet kisses turning into soft lovebites. He gently grabbed your waist and pushed your dress up a little, testing the waters, ‘Is that okay?’

‘Yes, please, continue.’ With your answer he helped you get rid of your short dress, the thin fabric dropping to the ground as you reached for his shirt’s buttons, both of your clothes spilling to the floor one by one. The possibility of getting caught by one of the guests or worse, a Shelby added to the thrill and half an hour later, you were both out of your breaths.

Dream a dream, here's a scene Touch me anywhere ’cause I'm your baby Grab my waist, don't waste any part I believe that you see me for who I am So spill my clothes on the floor of your new car Is it safe, is it safe to just be who we are? Is it safe, is it safe to just be who we are?

‘Can’t believe we did this here for the first time.’ Finn said once he caught his breath and you chuckled, ‘You know, it’s not a surprise if you ask me.’ You put your dress on as he watched you, admiring you under the moonlight and he did the same, then you heard someone getting out of the house.

Before John could arrive, Finn got up and took his place on the driver’s seat. ‘What’s it, John?’ He asked his older brother while you tried to fix your hair. ‘Tommy said if you haven’t left yet, I should drive because it’s pretty dark.’

‘You don’t have to do that, we were about to leave.’ You said but the light bruises on your collarbones said the otherwise as a huge smirk spread to John’s face. ‘Oh, yeah? What were you doing for almost an hour, then? Chatting? Come on, Finn, go sit with your lover.’

Finn knew better than to protest so he sat with you, holding your hand as you rested your head on his chest, you eyelids getting heavier. ‘How’s my little brother treating you, y/n? Is he being nice to you?’John asked out of nowhere and you thanked God he didn’t turn to look at you because you were blushing as Finn smiled cheekily, his other hand resting on your thigh.

‘Yes, yes, he does. He’s really sweet, you know? Always making me choose the movies and all. I feel like who I really am with him.’ You spoke honestly. ‘Good, he better behave.’ John nodded and the rest of the road passed in silence, just because you were asleep. If you weren’t, you’d probably never shut your mouth until you arrived.

‘You know I know you were fucking, right?’ John asked once he parked the car in front of your house and Finn didn’t know what to say, his ears getting hot as his brother looked at him. ‘Yeah, I came to check on you and well, you both had those ‘I just had sex’ smiles all over your faces and you never stopped smiling for hours, Jesus.’

‘Yes we did, John. Because I really like her, I think I might be in love with her and it scares me.’ Finn confessed, not ashamed of his feelings. He waited for John to joke around or tease him but his brother only smiled, one of those he showed when he was really happy. ‘I know, now take her home, will ya? It’s almost fucking three.’

He shook you lightly and you were awake, a soft smile taking place on your lips as you whispered his name, which sounded like a line of love song to Finn. ‘We arrived? Oh, why did you let me sleep in the first place? It must be so boring sitting in silence all way long, we could chat!’

John couldn’t help his chuckle as you sighed and got out of the car, thanking him for the ride and wishing him a good night. Then Finn walked you to the door and you stopped to kiss him goodbye before you opened it, ‘I love you, Finn.’ His smile went wider as he kissed you goodbye back, ‘I love you, too, y/n.’ Yes, there would be consequences but in the end, you were both young, wild and in love.

#not me ignoring the canon finn once again #if sk wants to make him all though and rough then he can fight me #to me john never died as well #period #finn shelby #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder #peaky blinder imagine #harry kirton #lana del rey - love song

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socalwriterbee · 3 years

Text

Confessions Part 3

Catch up on Confessions

Part 1 Part 2

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Marie Castro (MC) x Jordan Le x Sam Dalton

Rating/Warning: Teen, Angst, Some Adult Language

Word Count: 1,660

Characters Belong to Pixelberry

“It’s not something you want, it’s something I need.”

Sam’s words kept playing over and over again. Marie had watched Sam disappear behind the elevator doors, with an expression she can only describe as cowardly. Whatever they had was gone. Gone all because of a kiss. What kiss ended their relationship? Was it hers with Jordan or was it Sam’s with Lana, like Jordan had confessed to her.

“It’s not something you want, it’s something I need.”

He was leaving, without a fight. His promises of their relationship worth fighting for were all a lie. The quietness of the lab was deafening, everything her and Sam went through kept appearing in her head. The laughter shared, the arguments, the moments they spent in each other’s arms, it was all gone just like that. It wasn’t worth fighting for.

Marie didn’t remember how she made it back to the lab, it had gone by as a blur. Space, it was something he needed. Space. Their relationship was still in the dark to the world, a secret they couldn’t share and now there was nothing to share. Now, she was just the woman who spared Sam from marrying Sofia.

Tears began streaming down her face, the droplets landing on reports sitting on her desk. Her sobs slowly becoming uncontrollable.

“I’m just a fool, How could I possibly think he would want forever with me.” She tells herself, wiping away the tears that keep falling down her face.

She laughed at her situation, one she agreed to. She wanted anything and everything to with Sam, she foolishly fell in love with a man who kept their relationship in the dark. A man who hired a publicists to fool the world on how they met and fell for each other.

Sam had done all that because he didn’t want history repeating itself with her, wanting to protect her from the things he couldn’t protect Addison from. What she should have been protecting herself from was Sam. She had thrown caution to the wind in accepting the position at Dalton Labs without letting anyone know. Putting what she and Sam had accomplished at risk, but she didn’t regret it, if given the chance she would do it again. Because she believed that their love would be strong enough to handle whatever came their way.

Taking a deep breath, she was determined to come out of this ahead. It was her who impressed Evan in the interview, she earned this job. Hell, she even impressed Sofia. She was doing her best in helping the environmental lab succeed, even if after it all, it meant Sofia becoming CEO over Sam. She would work hard to prove to everyone who doubted her and just saw her as a nanny wrong. Packing her things to call it a day, Marie stood a bit straighter with renewed vigor and made her way out of Dalton Labs.

****

Letting out an exhausted breath, it had sounded like a great idea to walk home but halfway through the busy, noisy, chilly streets of New York she began to regret that idea. Pulling her jacket a bit closer to her body as the cold wind nips at her exposed skin, a familiar face catches her eye through the glass doors of the lobby.

“What are you doing here? Haven’t you caused enough damage.” Marie grits through her teeth.

“I came to apologize.” Jordan smiles at her, lifting a pizza box. “I come with a peace offering.”

“You can’t expect me to forgive you just like that.”

But the smell of greasy, delicious pizza wafts in the air, making her stomach growl.

“Please?” He gives her the saddest eyes that he can possible muster. “I think you could some food. It must have been hours since you last ate.”

Every possible reason that she should say no comes in a rush “I..uh..yeah..Ok.” Marie says against better judgement.

“I’m not inviting you up because I’ve forgiven you, but you did bring a pie from my favorite place. The least I can do is hear you out.”

A sincere wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes light up with hope. “I’ll take it.”

They step into the elevator together, Jordan watches as Marie passes her card to access the penthouse. The ride and walk to her apartment is complete silence. After unlocking the door and stepping inside she locks the door behind them.

“Make yourself at home. There are drinks in the fridge. I’ll be right back.” Marie tells him, making her way to her bedroom kicking off her heels.

After changing into an oversized t-shirt, one she had taken from Sam once upon a time, and black shorts. She didn’t want to give Jordan a wrong impression, Marie made her way back to the main room of her apartment, where Jordan had already set up everything for them to enjoy the pie he brought.

“That smells delicious.” She smiles, taking a plate from Jordan and grabs a slice.

“I’m happy that I could bring a smile out. You should always be smiling.”

“The smile comes from having food. Don’t take too much credit.”

“Right. Sorry.” He says as he takes a bite. “Oh my god.. I can see why this is your favorite.” He follows with a mouth full.

Marie chuckles at the facial expressions Jordan makes as they continue enjoying their dinner and swapping stories of pranks, experiments and everything in between that Mason and Mickey have done and gotten into.

“I can’t believe they tried the syrup experiment in your shampoo too.”

“I’m pretty sure it had the same result.”

“A sticky mess!” They say in unison.

“I still can’t compete with you. It’s always Marie was so fun or Marie would do this.” Jordan tells her with a soft look on his face, not of jealousy but she knew it was something more he wanted.

“Jordan, you shouldn’t compete to recreate with what I had with them. They love having you as their nanny. You should know that they talk about all the cool and fun stuff you do with them.” She tells him, reaching for his hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, well. I’m probably out of a job anyway. After what happened. Sam won’t keep me after I kissed his girlfriend.”

She doesn’t correct him about being Sam’s girlfriend, Marie begins to pick up the plates they used. Walking towards the sink, she places them down and turns to face Jordan, her back pressing against the marble counter. Everything that happened today comes flashing back, Jordan’s kiss, Sam walking in on them, Jordan’s accusation of Sam being with Lana. And the one that hurt the most, Sam leaving, her eyes began to water. She blinked back trying to fight the tears from falling, her new resolve beginning to crack slightly. Sam’s scent filling her senses, maybe wearing his shirt had been a bad idea.

“Hey..hey..” Jordan comes up to her about to take her into his arms but stops just short and caresses her arm, trying to bring her some comfort. “I don’t know what I can say, sorry doesn’t begin to cover what happened, what I may have caused, the argument and all.”

Marie side steps away from him “It was more than just an argument. He wants space. It’s easy to blame you right now and I do.”

Neither one saying anything, only their breathing can be heard in the quietness of her home. Jordan looks at the woman he has been falling in love with since meeting her. But she wasn’t looking at him, her attention somewhere else, with someone else.

“He just gave up and pushed me away. It was just a matter of time for this day to come.”

The smile on her face masked her true feeling, Jordan could see the hurt he caused her. He wanted her and he didn’t care how he would get her. The first step in winning her had been more effective than he had hoped for and he would be there for her, whenever and however she would want him.

“Marie, I don’t know if you’d believe me or you’d take this with a grain of salt. I’m here for whatever you need. A shoulder to cry on, someone to talk too. I’ll be here.”

“I..uh. Thank you Jordan. I think, you should.. you know, it's getting.”

“It’s getting late. I should head out, pretty sure I’ll be packing my things.” He grins as he makes his way towards the door. “Goodnight Marie.”

“Goodnight.”

She watched him go, turning and waving at her, Marie closed and locked the door after seeing him disappear behind the elevator doors. For the first time in her life she felt empty.

Marie hated that feeling. She wasn’t going to wallow in what could have been. It was her from this day forward and no one would get in her way especially not Sam Dalton.

******

His grip tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles becoming white with rage. His jaw clenched, his heart rate increased as he watched as the boys nanny walk out of the building. A smirk on his face, a fucking smirk.

He knows one thing can cause a look like that, Marie. The look of being the luckiest guy on earth, countless times she made Sam feel that way, after spending their stolen moments in each other’s arms.

Reaching for the handle of the Audi, he was going to confront him. Sam didn’t care if he caused a scene. As he opened the door, a honk of a taxi makes him instantly reconsider what he was about to do.

Jordan turns towards the noise, spotting a familiar car pull out and drive away, he watched the taillights disappear. A wide grin spreads across his face. He knew who it was, a satisfying feeling warmed him, knowing he was closer of making Marie his.

#the nanny affair fanfiction #the nanny affair choices #the nanny affair 2 #sam dalton x mc #m!sam dalton x mc #choices sam dalton #choices tna #tna fanfic #choices stories you play #masterlist

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anhed-nia · 3 years

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BLOGTOBER 10/17/2021: 2LDK

I hate JENNIFER'S BODY.

There, I said it.

I mean, actually I've said it elsewhere too, and at greater length, but its seemingly universal embrace by the horror community at large makes me want to say it again and again. I think the appeal is supposed to be the "subversion of expectations" ostensibly represented by antihero Jennifer being sexually rapacious instead of weak and submissive, even though this quality also marks her as an evil, disgusting freak who needs to be destroyed. And, as far as such expectations go, I find that JENNIFER'S BODY doubles down on tired sexist stereotypes about female relationships, describing them as inherently competitive—revolving around jealous, catty fights over boys—and inherently erotic, where the price of passing the Bechdel test is the insistence that women who like each other secretly hate each other, and their hatred is inflamed by how badly they secretly want to fuck each other. I don't find any of that liberating, and I doubt I would even if I didn't find the characters so obnoxious and unlikeable. But, when I catch myself assuming that a film is trying to tell me what real life is like, or how it should be, I have to stop and question myself. Is it really useful to see every movie as a manifesto that either describes or prescribes who we are and how we live? If that were the case, I should be a lot more concerned about the alleged messaging of movies that I really deeply love, including 2LDK.

I do not understand why this film hasn't grown more famous with time. As far as I can tell, the 2003 festival darling hasn't even had a proper blu-ray release yet. It was conceived as part of a diptych called The Duel Project, the result of a drunken wager between directors Yukihiko Tsutsumi and Ryuhei Kitamura regarding who could make the best fight film. Kitamura offered up ARAGAMI, a 78 minute samurai battle as slick as it is dull. Tsutsumi's counter was 2LDK, a savage black comedy about two actresses competing for a major film role, and winning the "that escalated quickly" sweepstakes. I've seen it a hundred times, and I'll see it a hundred more.

Ambitious bumpkin Nozomi (Eiko Koike) and sleazy softcore star Lana (Maho Nonami) book into a 2LDK apartment—that's 2 bedroom/living room/dining room/kitchen—while awaiting word of which of them scored the female lead in a movie called YAKUZA WIVES. The apartment itself is usually reserved for the mistress of the boss at their shared talent agency, a fact that sets the stage for this tale of feminine competition. Despite her sexed up bravado, Lana is haunted by past crimes against other women, while Nozomi is privately nagged by the fear that she may have been a big fish in the small pond of her rural home, but small fry in Tokyo. As these two opposing personalities clash, egged on by their insecurities, an inevitable romantic rivalry adds fuel to a growing fire that eventually explodes into shocking violence.

At only 70 minutes, 2LDK is sleek and efficient, swiftly building out two convincingly complex characters that help elevate the story above the level of a snide joke about womanly vanity. The script from Tsutsumi and Yuiko Miura crackles with cruel humor, and costars Koike and Nonami know exactly what to do with it. The results are as clever as they are viscerally exciting—and misogynist enough to give Erich Von Stroheim a boner, but who cares when the characters are so compelling, and the carnage so satisfying? In less capable hands, a story about two women killing each other over fame, fortune, and a boyfriend might be more of a drag, but 2LDK is pure entertainment from tip to tail. It may not have garnered the grrrl power clout of JENNIFER'S BODY, but it beats that movie to death with its superior performances and sadomasochistic thrills. Not all movies have to match up with our politics; they just have to make us feel something, preferably something good. And if 2LDK is any indication, nothing feels better than beating someone's ass into the ground.

#blogtober #2ldk #the duel project #horror #thriller #action #yukihiko tsutsumi #eiko koike #maho nonami #yuiko miura #black comedy

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books-are-my-life-stuff · 2 years

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Ten win streaks achieved! Honestly, I think I will stop here. It’s already better than my previous gauntlet attempts (6 win streaks), and starting tomorrow I’ll farm with my consistent teams.

What was the fourth team? It was an attempt of trying to make use of Halloween Morty in 1/5 because I like him, inspired from this video here of a Japanese player’s gauntlet video montage. In the first part of the video, they cleared Uxie stage with him, so I wanted to try as well but with different team members. Long story short, this team managed to reach 30% of Uxie’s third health bar, and for me it’s very impressive. I didn’t try attempting again because it was a mere testing run for fun, but I’m just amazed that Halloween Morty could do it. I know I can believe in him!

Latias Team: Unfortunately Rosa didn’t work as a tank because she was pretty slow, so I had to bring Sabrina much earlier than she’s supposed to. Since Latias mostly used special attacks, hopefully she could survive better as well than high pressure stages like Moltres. Turns out, the EX really made a huge difference for her. Not only she could consistently tank now, she even survived the Earthquake in the third bar even in low health! Granted that she did go down eventually, but by then Latias was already one Secret Sword away to be defeated.

Cobalion was actually a pretty good pair for Diantha in this scenario. While Diantha was busy taking out the sides and leeching the stats from them, Cobalion could constantly debuff Latias’ defenses with On a Roll Rock Smash. Plus, Sacred Sword bypassed Latias’ evasion buffs in second health bar, so it would always hit, and the chip damage was pretty good too.

Diantha was just doing Diantha things. Overall, it was a great run.

Uxie Team: I did say that the initial Uxie team’s problem was gauges, so I brought Skyla as a quick solution. Turns out, when the gauge problem is out of the way, this team destroyed Uxie. I didn’t grid Allister with Restrain on sync, but it was just so satisfying to see Allister’s G-Max Terror damage basically just depleted Uxie’s second health bar to 30%, under Ghost Wish. Cynthia was just doing Cynthia things, while Skyla was doing Skyla things. Speed buffs and gauge resources are really important in prolonged fights like this.

Moltres Team: Sabrina has been used, so I had to look for tank that could handle Moltres’ pressure. First I tried Lana, and that didn’t work. Even with Propelling Move 9, the team still suffered greatly from gauge issues. I ended up going with Misty & Psyduck instead, because at least gauge wasn’t much of a problem with her.

There was a miracle happening in this fight that really helped this team’s survival. May proc-ed her Rain Dance MPR every. single. time. I’m not joking. She changed weather five times, and she still has 2 more uses after that. Granted it was still a pretty close one, but Cyrus somehow could tank sync move from Moltres even at 30% health, and that’s because of the rain May provided. It was very close one as you can see here, but a win is still a win.

After the fight, I went to check May’s grid to see the MP Refresh that May had on Rain Dance, thinking it’s probably MPR 3 like Acerola’s Sandstorm, but no, it was MPR 2. 30% chance. Happened 5 times.

Now, I still stand by my opinion that 30% is a very low chance, and the miracle that happened in this fight might as well happened once in a lifetime. That’s why I kept Ingo at 2/5 just for that Master Healer, Gritty Guardian, Soothing Sand, Guarded Entry, and Adrenaline. Considering my streak of bad luck involving MP Refreshes (case in point, Skyla, who used to rarely proc her MPR on Potion despite having double of it, and Leaf on the recent Moltres run), that 30% chance at 3/5 might as well never gonna happen. I don’t wanna reset my run solely to make Ingo proc his Sandstorm MPR three different times.

My opinions and bad lucks about MP Refresh aside, I’m still in awe at how May managed to proc her MP Refresh every single time, and I have a feeling that I have burned my good luck on this fight already...

Uxie Testing Team: Another thing that I would like to add is that, neither of the team members there are fully gridded. I only grabbed MPR on Potion and Master Healer, while Halloween Morty and Viola are not gridded yet. And they still managed to reach 30% of Uxie’s third health bar. 3/5 Morty would surely be a consistent clear, and if Viola and Kiawe are fully gridded, I’m sure they’re gonna be better too. Even if it’s gonna take a while, I’m looking forward to 3/5 Halloween Morty.

I still have some units left to use, but I think I will stop here. It’s time to farm starting tomorrow.

#personal #pokemon masters #today's run was much better than the initial run #i'm really glad that i managed to reach at least 10 win streaks #and i got all the event rewards that i wanted as well #status immunity candies are gonna be pretty valuable

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years

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The Fears of a Father (pt 2)

A/N: You all can thank @thecomfortofoldstorries because I completely forgot to post this when I finished it like a month and a half ago. It’s just been sitting in my docs. I could’ve sworn I posted it but I guess I didn’t. I have the memory span of a fruit fly.

Warnings: none, just fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Geralt is a great dad. That’s all you need to know. Here is part 1.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

You turned your head to Yennefer. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a naked Lana by the hand. The mage has just finished chasing Lana around the house after the little girl decided she didn’t want to get in the bath. That’s when Yennefer found you sitting at the kitchen table looking out of the window to the dirt path leading to your house.

“I’m sorry. I was-I was just thinking.” You shook your head.

“The longer you sit there and stare out that window, the more you’ll feel miserable.” She reminded you before taking Lana back towards the bathing room.

You stood to your feet and rubbed your hands together, looking around for something to do.

Something tugged at your skirt. You looked down to see Bram standing next to you, his hand holding the skirt of your dress.

“Hi, love.” You smiled down at him, bringing you hand up to cup his face.

“Are you sad, mommy?” He tucked his head into your stomach, his arms wrapping around you as best as they could.

“Of course not, love. Why would you think that?” You brushed your fingers through his ash blonde hair.

“‘Cause you’re always sitting here looking out that window. Are you waiting for daddy?”

You smiled a little.

“I am.”

“I miss him.”

“I miss him too, love.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “It’s getting late, Bram. Go on to bed. I’ll be in in a moment to tuck you in and tell you a story.”

You watched your oldest pad off to your room. He started sleeping in the room with you after the second night of Geralt’s absence. Bram insisted on keeping you safe, on protecting you just like Geralt did.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling lonely. You knew you weren’t alone. You had both of your children and even Yennefer to keep you company. You just missed your husband dearly.

Outside, you heard your horse and Yennefer’s begin to snort and whinny, alarming you that someone was nearing the stables out back.

Hopeful that it was your husband, you ventured out of the house and into the dark. The air was cold and bitter but you didn’t worry about it.

With the help of the moonlight, you could see the door to the stable was open. A sigh of relief left your lips as you saw Roach leave one of the stalls and gallop out into the fence.

You hurried into the barn, your heart beating frantically. You ran straight into Jaskier. The bard grabbed your arms to steady you and laughed, pulling you in for a hug.

“My gods, Y/N! It’s so good to see you.”

“Jaskier, you too.” You squeezed him tight and quickly looked him over for any injuries, running your hands hastily along his arms.

“What-What are you doing?” Jaskier furrowed his brows together.

“Were you hurt?”

Before he had a chance to answer you, your hand pressed against his left clavicle, causing him to wince.

“What happened?” You looked up to him.

“Got into it with a barmaid.”

You turned to face your husband, who stood near the stall your horse was in. Geralt had just finished putting away Roach’s saddle.

“She stabbed him with a fork.”

The smile on your lips grew as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. For whatever reason, you were waiting for his okay to approach him.

He held your gaze, a soft smile crossing his lips.

“Come here, dove.” He beckoned you over with his hand.

You closed the space between you two as quickly as possible, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. He winced under the pressure, his hands coming down to grasp your hips. You pulled away quickly, letting him go and looking up at him. Your brows drew together.

“Are you hurt?”

“Just sore is all.”

“His first hunt in five years!” Jaskier moved to Geralt’s side and patted his shoulder. “It was a glorious one, wasn’t it?”

Geralt looked over to Jaskier, grunting.

“Jaskier, Bram is in my room laying down. He should be waiting for me to read him a story. He’d love it if you surprised him.” You looked to the bard.

“That’s my boy! Always eager for a story.”

Geralt watched Jaskier leave while you studied the witcher’s face. Your hand came up to hold his jaw. Your thumb brushed over a scar on his cheek, one you’d never seen before.

“I missed you, dove.” Geralt tried to pull you in for a kiss but you refused, wanting to ensure he was okay first.

“As I’ve missed you. Are you okay?” Your hand gently clasped his chin, turning his head from one side to the other. There were no other new scars on him, no markings that proved he’d put his life on the line.

“I’m fine. I’d just like to kiss my wife that I haven’t seen in three weeks.”

“You can kiss me in a moment.”

When you were satisfied with his face and neck, your hands found the ties to his tunic.

“Smile for me.”

“What?”

“Smile and show me your teeth. I want to make sure you’ve still got them.” As you untied his top, you looked up at him. He flashed you a rare white smile, tilting his head to the side just a little.

“I missed how worried you get.”

You said nothing, continuing your examination of him. When his top was untied, you pushed the material aside, revealing his chest. You slipped your hand into his shirt, feeling over his cool skin for any wounds. You felt the cold metal of his medallion that rested beneath his shirt.

“Dove, you’re not going to find anything. I wasn’t hurt.”

“There’s a new scar on your cheek.” You spoke quietly. Your hand brushed over his collarbone and then up the side of his neck so you could cradle his cheek. “You’ve no idea how fearful I was that you wouldn’t return to me.”

He took your hand, pulling it from his face and placing a kiss on your opened palm.

“I’ll always come back to you.” His golden eyes stayed on yours. He could see the tension slowly melting away and the fear in your eyes dissipating.

He leaned down to gently kiss your lips. You slipped your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. His hands gripped your waist before one of his arms slipped around your lower back and pulled you in to him. You were then pushed back against one of the stall doors. When you were close enough, his hand slipped down to your upper thigh. He pulled your leg up, hooking you around his hip.

You pulled away, pressing your hands to his chest.

“We can’t do this here, Geralt.”

“Sure we can.” His lips found your neck.

“You’ve got a daughter and a son inside eagerly awaiting your return.”

He pulled his head away from you, looking down at you with liquid honey eyes.

“How were they?”

“They were good. Bram formed a habit of sleeping with me and Lana.” You pulled the medallion from his shirt to study the pendant. You knew it like the back of your hand but you still admired it. “He wanted to keep his mother and little sister safe. He’d try to stay awake through the whole night. He said he wanted to be just like you.”

“He’s going to be better than me.” Geralt took your hands in his and brought them to his lips.

“That’s what every parent wants, my love. You’re a great man and an even grander father. You’ve nothing to worry about.” You smiled gently at him. “Let’s go see our children.”

He slipped one bulky arm around you, holding you close as you two moved from the barn to your home.

***

Jaskier was sitting on the edge of your bed, telling Bram a story of his first time accompanying Geralt on a hunt. It was a story you’d heard many times, one that Bram always loved to hear.

“Dad!” Bram exclaimed, jumping from the bed and running to Geralt. He released you to hold his son, kneeling down to the six-year-old’s height. He cradled Bram’s head to his shoulder. “I missed you, daddy. Did you miss me?”

“Even more than you could ever imagine, my son.” Geralt’s eyes slipped shut and he inhaled softly.

You placed your hand upon his shoulder, gently squeezing him. You knew how dearly the witcher loved his son and how grounded the boy kept him. He was Geralt’s first born, a true testament that the Butcher of Blaviken was capable of more than just murder and brutality.

“Daddy!” A high pitched squeal came from behind Geralt. He didn’t have time to stand and turn before Lana ran into him, hugging as much of him as she could. Her little arms just barely reached his sides. She nuzzled her face into his back and giggled when his hair tickled her face. “Hi, daddy.”

Geralt reached back to grab her, his arm wrapping around her little torso. He effortlessly pulled her around so she was next to Bram and Geralt could hug them both.

“Hi, little dove.” He kissed the top of her head.

“You’re lucky she had clothes on this time.” Yennefer sighed out. She stood just a few feet behind your husband in the hallway. You gave her a thankful smile to which she nodded her head.

***

Geralt sat in the kitchen with a sleeping Lana in his arms. Jaskier and Bram sat in front of the fireplace. The bard was telling the boy a story of dragons, involving both Yennefer, Geralt, and Jaskier himself.

You had just finished cleaning the kitchen and were ready to get the children to bed. You agreed to let them stay up for a little longer while Geralt and Jaskier ate. Bram insisted on staying awake with his father while Lana just wanted to be held by Geralt.

“I can take her and put her in bed if you’d like.” You offered, wiping your damp hands off on the skirt of your dress.

Geralt softly shook his head, looking down at the ash blonde girl.

“I’d like to hold her for just a while longer.”

You nodded your head and decided to pull a chair up next to him. You crossed your knees and leaned your head against his shoulder, brushing your fingers through Lana’s hair.

“She missed you dearly.” You hummed. “We all did.”

“I’m sorry.” Geralt turned his head to press his lips against your shoulder. “It won’t happen again.”

“But it might.” You tilted your head up just a little so you could look him in the eyes. “You’re one of the last witchers left. The world will need you.”

“I know a handful of others in my guild that I will point the world in the direction of. As far as I’m concerned, I’m no longer a witcher.”

“That isn’t true.” You shook your head, turning so you could comb your fingers through his hair.. “You’ll always be a witcher.”

“But I’m a father first.”

“And a damn good one.” You smiled at him.

Taglist: @riviawitch3r @notyouraveragemochii @dev1lbella @rosyghosty @merendis @lalalalemonade11 @wayward-dream @whatanicepanohthatsjustme @tshuuls @havenoffandoms @queen-sands @crazzyter @katiejmac @bucky-did-nothing-wrong @jennylovelyheart @whitewolfandthefox @itsallyouhavegotinsideyourhead @hm-fck @mactho @msgeorgiarae @tragicmisfits @randomzxx @alwayshave-faith @rahdaleigh @lizliz3107 @turtlefordestiel @d14n4ol @asix122747483 @minervalavender @agniavateira @hina-chans-stuff @dressed-up-heartbreak @persephonehemingway @bitterstar88 @scarlettwitcher @ayamenimthiriel @romancebibliophilia @jessevans @xoxoarts @jocelynscloset @soulslaststand @grumgoblin @thefishmongersdaughterwrites @silverkitten547 @rebel4fandom

#geralt of rivia #dad!geralt #geralt #the witcher #the witcher netflix #netflix #witcher #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt oneshot #geralt fic #oneshot

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t-o-m-hollands · 4 years

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Locksley Hall - Part II

Summery: Tom doesn’t know quite how it happens, but one moment he’s working as the gardener at Locksley hall, and the next he’s run of to marry the lords daughter, a girl he hates. Set in England, 1920.

Word count: 5500 (sorry...)

Pairing: Tom x OC

A/N: Again, this is heavily inspired by the first part in Atonement – Ian McEwan, but the plot is different.

Music wise: For Madeleine’s parts I listened to Old Money – Lana del Rey and for Tom’s part I listened to NFWMB and Work Song - Hozier.

R E A D P A R T O N E H E R E

Gideon’s cottage - 1920.

Tom is awakened by yet another expensive automobile driving up the road and past his cottage. His brain works slowly, still half asleep, one foot in a dreamland where he’s chasing someone in a labyrinth made out of peonies. Slowly he wakes his body by moving his toes, and then his fingers too, before stretching his arms over his head, letting out a tired groan. His body feels warm and his limbs lethargic and slow, as they do after a particularly long nap. For a long while he lays there, eyes half-closed, staring at the dust aimlessly drifting in the sunlight.

Another car passes by outside.

Downstairs he can hear Mr. Higgins doing the washing up. If he concentrates, he can hear the guests from the ball chatting and laughing up at the manor. If he concentrates further still, he can hear the blood pumping through his system, steady and slow.

The whole world feels slow. Like the air in the room stands still, despite the wide-open window. It is mid-July, and the heat feels oppressively persistent, there is no escaping it. Only now, as the clock is nearing eight in the evening, does the world seem to cool. All morning he’d worked in the garden, preparing the grounds for the ball under the watchful eyes of old Dowager Locksley. When she was finally satisfied that there wasn’t a dead leaf, not a single weed, nor an unwatered rose in sight she’d sent him off, ready to attack the kitchen staff instead. He’d walked down to Locksley bay. There he’d rid himself of his sweaty, earth-stained rags and he’d swam until his body felt cool again before returning to the cottage for a long and well-deserved nap.

He stretches again and groans. He desperately wants a smoke, but his pack of cigarettes along with his lighter is all across the room, thrown on the cluttered desk along with countless of books and an old typewriter that the library had given away. The letter M was irreversibly lost and therefor it had been deemed useless. He’d taken it with great gratitude, glad to have something he’d normally wouldn’t be able to afford. It had amused him, typing long passages without using any word containing the 13th letter of the alphabet. In a strange way it thrilled him, that some words in the dictionary simply became forbidden for him. Suddenly out of reach.Words like magic, monarch, melancholy, magnetic, maddening, maiden,

Madeleine.

Finally he gets up, walks across the room and sits down by his desk. He lights a cigarette. Staring out the window he watches as yet another car makes it up the driveway to join the ball.

The sky outside is lilac, and the first evening breeze makes its way through the grass like a wave in the ocean and he prays it’ll make its way through the window to cool his head. He inhales deeply, but the sinking feeling he’s had in his stomach all day stays where it is.

And half of his mind is still in his dream.

Had he been better at drawing he’d drawn her hands, soft and small compared to his calloused ones. Maybe if he’d draw them, he’d be able to get the picture of them out of his mind. Those hands, gracefully holding a cigarette as her eyes, dark and deep and framed with long lashes, observed him with great disapproval as they’d discussed poetry. She always looked disapproving when she was observing him. She’d worn a evening gown in the finest silk, and his ratty jacket over her shoulders, her normally perfectly pinned hair falling down in cascades over her shoulders. It had felt strangely intimate, seeing her like that, so undone and wearing his jacket

Swearing, he puts out the cigarette. He’d been distracted, not noticing how it’d burnt down to the butt, burning his fingers. He doesn’t light a new one, but leans back in his chair, runs his hand through his hair and tries to calm his breathing.

It hadn’t always been this way.

Once upon a time, they’d been friends, hard as it was to believe now. They’d defied gravity when they’d climbed the great oak three behind the cottage. He’d taught her how to swim in Locksley bay, held her up in the water and told her to fill her lungs with air in order to float. She’d taught him how to read. His teacher in the village school had called him slow, so she’d sneaked out books from the library, and with patience of a saint she’d taught him how to recognise each symbol until he could make sense of the words.

She’d been his first kiss.

It had only been a small peck on his lips, lasting not more than a second, but it counted. He counted it.

She’d find him in the greenhouse, crying over the trashing he’d gotten from Mr. Higgins for attacking Francis Locksley. Silently she’d sat down beside him, her long dark hair in a braid and dressed in her Sunday best, having just been to church. She’d taken his bruised knuckles in her hands and she’d kissed them, before kissing each tear streaked cheek, and then ever so briefly, she’d pressed her lips against his. He had felt like a knight, being awarded by the queen for his brave service. He hadn’t known what to make of it, but she’d held his hand in hers and he’d leaned his head against her shoulder and for the longest time they’d stayed that way until he’d forgotten all about stinging bruises and tears.

He lights another cigarette and another car drives up the driveway.

The sky is now a dark blue, the last evening light turning the leaves in the trees golden. Earlier that day Mr. Higgins had put out lights all along the drive way to the manor house and they now lit up the summer evening.

Against the evening sky he sees a bird shoot up, rising to the sky.

Once when they’d been children they’d found an injured songbird in the woods. He’d watched as Madeleine with the gentlest of fingers picked the bird up. He’d watched as she held the wounded creature in her hands, as she observed its broken wing. She’d looked at him then, her dark eyes sad, and she’d told him they’d have to help it heal.

So they’d gone to Gideon’s cottage and he’d sneaked her in, while Mr. Higgins worked in the garden. She’d placed the songbird on his bed. While she was kneeling in front of it, as if in prayer, he’d taken out bandages. He’d watched as she’d gently wrapped it around the bird’s wing. She’d looked at him, and told him to sing. She’d said that it would make the bird feel safer, that it was what she used to do to baby Beatrix when she was crying. So, he’d sung a song to the poor harmed thing, while Madeleine patted its head.

For seven days the nursed it, making sure the wing healed as it should. It had been their secret. She’d snuck out of classes with her governess and he’d faked being ill until Mr. Higgins let him be home from school and they’d sat in his room, and he’d sing for them. They kept the bird in a box, on the lid of which he’d put air holes in, and she’d placed her cardigan in the bottom of it, making sure it was soft to sleep on. They’d feed t worms Tom had dug up in the garden and Tom would sing to it every night.

In the end the songbird had healed, and they’d released it in the woods again and watched as it flew away, awkwardly at first, nearly toppling towards the ground before it found its strength again, slowly rising until it was only a speck of black in the distance. He’d held her hand, biting down hard on his bottom lip to keep himself from weeping, while she had cried openly, pressing his hand in hers. They’d hid in the labyrinth until late that evening, far away from nanny and Mr. Higgins. He’d sung her songs until she’d stopped weeping.

Tom stands up, puts out his cigarette and stretches out one last time. Then he walks out, leaving his memories in the smoke-filled room, heading towards the pub.

The Wild Boar, the village pub

“You ever think about headin’ out of here?” he asks his friend.

They’re in the village pub, The Wild Boar, throwing back beers. A Victorian pub with murky green wallpaper, beer-stained velvet booths and worn mahogany wooden floors. The atmosphere is always good and someone is always singing. Harrison, who most days works in the bar but is enjoying a rare day off, calls it his home.

“What, go somewhere else to drink, you mean?”

“No, no, I mean like leave Milchwood, go to London or something, head somewhere else you know”.

Harrison gives him a puzzled look and Tom can tell he doesn’t feel the same. They’re both comfortably leaned back on each side of the booth. Around them the other patrons are talking loudly, discussing this and that, enjoying their Saturday night and the unusually warm summer weather.

“No” Harrison answers in the end “no, I mean, it’s home, yeah?” He drowns the last drops of his pint, waving to the bar for another before looking back at Tom, “you feel like leaving?”

“Dunno, maybe, sometimes” he says. “’is just, some days I want nothing more than to head out to Milchwood station and take literally any train away from here.” He takes a long gulp of his own pint.

“Well, why don’t you?”

It takes some time for Tom to answer. He keeps his eyes on the dirty window in front of him. Far away he can just make out the silhouette of Locksley Hall. They are all up there now, the lords and the ladies, having a ball.

“’s just hard to leave you know.” He takes another gulp of beer as the bartender places another pint in front of Harrison. “Spent most of my time in France wishing I was back here and now” he waves his hand in front of him, as if this would explain the strange sinking feeling he’d been walking around with lately. “Now it feels like it all stands still, like I’m just walking around, waiting for something to happen.”

Harrison gives him a worried look “but what’s keeping you here then?”

“Dunno, it’s just, it’s hard to leave”.

He doesn’t have ties to this place the way Harrison does. He has no other family part from Mr. Higgins. Mrs. Higgins had taken him in when he’d been nothing more than a baby, but she’d passed away before his fifth birthday. He hardly remembered her. Mr. Higgins had kept him on, and despite his stern ways he’d been kind to the boy, and taught him all he knew of gardening and thus ensuring that Tom would have a future secured. But Tom knows that Mr. Higgins wouldn’t mind if he took off, that maybe he’d even expect it.

“Yes, we saw ‘em, didn’t we Billy!” Owain Murphy’s loud voice booms from the booth beside theirs.

“Yeah” Billy concurs, nodding his head and staring down into his glass.

“Yeah, we saw ‘em, all ‘em gently folks up at Locksley Hall”.

“Yeah” Billy nods again.

“They say the ‘eir is being married off!” Owain bellows.

Billy is too busy drinking now to agree.

“She looked a vision, didn’t she Billy?”

Something twists uncomfortably in Tom’s stomach. He drowns his beer and nods to his friend. It’s time to leave. The night air is cool and he takes deep breaths of it as he steps outside. They walk and chat for a while, before hitting a fork in the road, saying their goodbyes and promising to meet up for another pint the next day they then part ways, Harrison walking to the house he shares with his parents and little sister, and Tom steers his feet to Gideon’s Cottage and Locksley Hall.

He can see the lights from the building, hear the piano music even from outside. Across the lawn people are taking some fresh air, surely they’ve been dancing for hours. They’re all dressed in their finest clothes, heavily bejeweled. Tom closes in on Gideon’s cottage, and he can’t wait to throw himself on the bed and sleep for a few hours. Tomorrow is Sunday, the day for resting, and he’s free as a bird.

A flash of white moves in the corner of his eye and he looks over.

By the enormous rhododendron bush stands Lady Madeleine Locksley, wearing a silky white gown that somehow plays tricks with his brain; for when he first lays his eyes on her, it looks to him as if she’s wearing nothing more than moonlight, the diamonds from her tiara glistening in the night.

For a moment it feels as if he’s actually gotten the breath knocked out of him. Owain Murphy had been right, she did look a vision.

A man joins her, his hands clasped behind his back. He’s tall and blond and even from this distance he can tell she’s bored with the conversation, but she politely goes along with it.

Tom walks into the cottage, closing the door behind him.

The cliffs of Locksley bay

The Atlantic Ocean spread out in front of her, wide and far and impossibly blue. She’s standing on the cliffs beside Locksley bay. If she were to turn her head to her left, she would see the docks with the boats lined up one after the other, each more impressive than the last. It is summer, and high season for travellers. Would she instead turn her head to her right she would see the bay, and the people playing in the water, lying in the beach and soaking up sun. Enjoying themselves and cooling themselves off in the unusually warm weather.

But she keeps her eyes far ahead.

Out on the water she can see sailing boats slowly drifting over the landscape. It’s not a good day for sailing, not even up here on the cliffs can you feel anything more than a gentle breeze. The heavens are almost violently blue, not a cloud as far as the eye can see. In the sky seagulls fly, screeching as they go and she inhales deep breaths of the ocean air. She feels so far removed from them all, the people on the boats and the ones on the beach.

Her lungs feels tighter, there’s a scream in them that needs to get out.

She takes a step closer to the edge.

A pair of arms grabs hold of her and pulls her in against something hard. “What are you doing?!” A familiar voice inquires angrily in her ear.

He pulls them both a few steps back, away from the edge, before turning her around to face him. Anger clear on his face. His chest, still close to hers, is heaving.

“What are you doing?” She asks, not quite managing to match his level of animosity. His hands are still holding a firm grip around her arms. She pulls herself free and takes a step back, trying to create some distance between them, though she swears she still feels the heat radiating of his body, his scent, which she’d briefly inhaled, surrounding her.

“Were you going to jump?” he asks in a serious tone, his warm brown eyes intensely searching her face for something.

“No” she says, voice firm, and he relaxes somewhat, though he still looks angry. That frown, seemingly permanent on his face whenever she’s around. “But it wouldn’t have killed me if I had, people jump from here all the time”

“Sure, but not young heiresses”. He sounds almost sarcastic and she can feel her blood nearly boiling. Her diamond heart beats faster in her chest.

“Have you?”

He observers her for a heartbeat, like he’s searching for something in her face. The long days spent working in the garden has given him a nice tan. His brown hair looks windswept and he’s not wearing his usual uniform of muddy trousers, suspenders and a dirty white shirt. Instead his clothes look washed and clean; he’s wearing his Sunday best, linen suit trousers, clean white shirt and suspenders that don’t look quite as worn. His arms, well developed from all the hard work, fills out his shirt in a way that makes something inside her flutter, and she hastily looks away.

“Yes” he answers in the end. “Yeah, me and Harrison jumped it last year”.

“Yet you’re so against me doing it?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, and she can tell he’s weighing each word carefully. “I just, I didn’t take you for a thrill-chaser, is all. It surprised me”.

Now he’s avoiding looking at her.

“So, how was the ball?” he asks eventually, having to fill the stale, strange silence.

“Long” she answers and sighs. “Awfully long, and dreary”.

“Poor girl” he teases, but she wonders if there isn’t real malice underneath. “And how is your betrothed?”

She narrows her eyes at him. “James is not my betrothed” she says, trying to keep her voice calm. He’s got his hands in his pockets, an arrogant look on his face and she wants to scream at him.

“Huh” he says, “I heard you were being married off”.

“Well, I’m not. Not yet”

“So, what’s he’s like, this not betrothed man of yours”

He sounds so nonchalant, and it’s making her skin itch with irritation. “He’s nice, actually”.

He scoffs, “nice?”

“Yes! He’s very nice, unlike certain people! And he gave me a book of Wordsworth poetry”

Tom snorts “you hate Wordsworth, you always have”

“How do you know?” She asks, annoyance clear in her tone.

“You told me” he answers, and he sound so certain of himself.

“Yes, when we were children, I might have changed my mind since!”

“You haven’t though”.

“Funny isn’t? All the things you remember?” She tries to sound superior, but she’s not sure she accomplishes anything. He’s still standing there, hands in pockets and a devil-may-care smug smile on his face.

“You find him dull”.

“How do you know if I find James dull or not! You’ve never even met him! Maybe I find it fascinating to talk about dog breeding and horses!” you scream at him.

But he just smiles wider. “I was talking about Wordsworth. You find Wordsworth dull. But clearly I hit a nerve”.

She’s so angry she’s speechless. From the village they hear the church bells ring.

“We should go” he says and nods to the path back.

“No”

“Lady Madeleine, -”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Well, it is your title”.

“Oh, like you give a toss about people’s titles! I’m Madeleine and we used to be friends, or don’t you remember that part?”

“Alright Madeleine” he says slowly, like he’s talking to a particularly petulant child, “we better head home now, they’ll want you back for dinner”.

“I don’t want to” she says stubbornly. “You head back. I’m staying here to watch the sunset”.

“They’ll just sent me out to look for you if you´re not there for dinner, let’s go”.

She takes a deep breath and a step backwards, towards the edge. “You know, I’m so tired of everyone telling me what to do all the time, were to be and what to think, and how to feel”. She takes another step backwards and the smugness on his face is soon replaced with worry.

“I’m so tired of people telling me that I can’t do things when they have no issue doing it themselves”. She takes yet another step back and as he reaches out for her, realising what she’s about to do. She turns around and runs toward the edge.

“No Maddie, don’t!”

But she’s already taken the leap.

Locksley Hall

The next morning she wakes early, though it feels as though she’s hardly slept at all. Memories plays behind her closed eyelids from the day before. The cliffs, Tom’s arms grabbing hold of her, the argument, the jump, the fall, the splash, the sinking, the searching for the surface. And then, a hand grabbing hold of her, pulling her towards the light.

He’d jumped in after her, had thrown himself of the cliff in his Sunday best without any hesitation.

He’d always been the better swimmer, he was the one who had taught her after all, and luckily it hadn’t taken him long to find her beneath the surface.

They’d swam ashore, dragged themselves up in their heavy, wet clothes watched by the bathers who looked at them, some agog and some in chock. (“Is that not lady Madeleine?”)

He’d been furious, practically steaming with anger. It hadn’t mattered how many times she’d tried to talk to him, tried to apologise, he’d only ignored her and kept steering his feet forward to Locksley Hall. Only when she tried to thank him for having saved her did he respond.

“Don’t” he had uttered, his resentment almost palpable.

They had been walking through a path in the woods, sun shining through the canopy, painting the whole world a bright green colour, and she stumbled after him, keeping her eyes on his wet white shirt, his suspenders holding of his soaked beige trousers.

She too had grown angry then. Had tried to argue with him. Tried telling him that he was overreacting, that no one had forced him to jump in as well, that it would have been better if he hadn’t, that they both knew he wished he hadn’t and suddenly -

She’d been pressed up against a tree, his face just centimetres from hers, both their chest heaving with conflicting emotions, his arms on either side of her face, in the most beautiful trap.

Madeleine untangles herself from her many sheets and blankets and walks to the window to pull apart the curtains and let in the morning light. The grounds outside are empty, no one is yet awake. It must be very early indeed, for even Gideon’s cottage seem peacefully quiet.

She opens the leaded window and drags in deep breaths of fresh air, but her lungs still feel too tight. She fishes up a package of cigarettes from one of the pockets of her silk robe and with trembling hands she lights one. Everything is set now. She is to marry Sir James Hatfield, and settle down at Hatfield house in all its ugly Tudor glory. It didn’t matter if she smoked in the house anymore, she wouldn’t stay here much longer.

With picture perfect certainty she imagines married life with Sr Hatfield. Endless conversation of the breeding of horses, hunting and dogs. Her life spent doing things the way they have always been done at Hatfield house, keeping up with the traditions of a family she has no interest in. And then, several blonde little children would come along. All boys, all taking after their father in looks and manners.

Her life would surround around them. She would be Lady Madeline Locksley no more, but instead, Lady Hatfield. She would have to leave Locksley hall, leave Benie,

leave Tom.

The thought startles her, and she gets up from the window ledge, starts walking aimlessly round the cluttered room.

Using her empty tea cup from which she’d drank her evening tea the night before as an ashtray she puts out her cigarette, and with hands trembling more than ever she lights another, before throwing herself back on the bed.

Tom.

Who surely hated her now. The achingly long moments when he’d trapped her against the tree plays again in her head. She’d seen so many emotions on his face, his chest heaving from all of it. First there had been anger, then confusion and then, unless she wasn’t entirely mistaken; because god knows her experience was non-existing in the area,

- lust.

But he’d torn himself free, and marched off, without looking back. And she’d stood leaned against the three, feeling like a planet spinning out of its axis, struggling to remember how to breath again.

When she walked into the great hall she’d been met with her mother, Benie and granny. Upon seeing her, they’d all gone completely silent, the only sound to be heard the water dripping off of her, landing on the newly swapped floors.

“Oh Madeleine!” her mother had eventually burst out “what’s happened?”

She had told them she’d been at the cliffs, and that Tom had come along, but then her granny had interrupted her. “Are you telling me” she’d asked in her superior voice “that you were ‘hanging about’ the cliffs with the junior gardener?” The disapproval in her voice was evident.

“No” Madeleine had answered, trying to keep her voice steady and calm. “I’m saying that I was there, and he was there, he annoyed me, and then I jumped off the cliff”.

Dead silence again.

“You, you did what?”

“I jumped off a cliff. And then he saved me. And now, I really must change, so would you please excuse me”. The wave of emotion that washed over her had surprised her, but suddenly she’d been holding back tears.

““Madeleine, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but you need to go and get changed, right now. Sir Hatfield is invited for dinner, and you will behave yourself and you will conduct yourself accordingly” her mother had told her in her sternest voice. So, Madeleine had nodded and walked up the stairs, choking back on tears, her wet clothes leaving a trace of water in her wake.

And she’d changed and Alice had done up her hair and she’d joined the others for dinner. And she’d sat beside James at dinner and listened to him lecturing her on various dog breeds and she’d smiled appropriately. Then, after dinner, he’d taken her aside. Professed in a dry tone his admiration for her and asked for her hand in marriage. He’d told her that he’d already settled things with her father. She had smiled and complied and tried to press down the feeling of nausea in her stomach, tried to ignore to scream growing ever larger in her lungs.

She stands up again, puts out her cigarette, takes one of the many dresses scattering the floor and slides it on. Then she’s out the door. With silent steps, as to not wake anyone, she makes her way down the corridor, and then down the grand staircase and the foyer and out the door. The pressure in her lungs grow tenser and tenser and her feet move faster and faster, until her naked feet are sprinting over the grounds, the dewy grass cold under her soles. When she finally reaches the greenhouse, she’s sobbing.

This had always been her secret place. Not even Tom had known about how she’d used to come here when things became too much, when things would build and build inside of her until she had to let it out. Like it was a living, moving thing in her chest, begging her to set it free. Knowing that the old greenhouse was the only soundproof place in all of Locksley Hall it became her safe place to let it out, she’d always steer her feet here. When she’d been to boarding school, and then in Canada, she’d been forced to try letting the scream free under water, no other place felt safe enough, but it hadn’t felt the same.

She slams the door shut behind her and then she lets it out. Nearly bending over from the force of it she shrieks, for as long and as loud as she can. Her eyes pressed shut and trembling hands in fists. When she finally stops it still seems to echo in her ears, and she feels exhausted. She’s breathing as if she’s just run for miles and miles. Slowly she stands up straight again, unclasping her fists. Opening her shut eyes.

Tom.

Standing in front of her, looking shocked and horrified, hands and shirt muddy. He must have been in here for some early work before the heat gets too intense.

They stand there, for a long time, just staring at one another, her screams still echoing in her mind. And then, like she’s a wild animal, he slowly walks towards her. Taking her hand in his, an arm around her waist, he gently guides them towards the pond, on the side of which he helps her sit down. Bending down in front of her, so that he’s on his knees, he looks up at her, a strand of brown hair falling down, framing his face.

It’s so tender, the way he looks at her. So unbearably tender. His earth-stained hands clasped around hers, placed in her lap, calloused and warm.

“What happened?” He asks, voice soft and low.

She doesn’t know when it started, too distracted by his gentleness perhaps, but she realises then that she’s crying, two tears falling from her cheek and landing on their hands.

“I’m just being silly” she responds, but her voice sounds hoarse and dead even to her own ears.

“I doubt it, what’s wrong?”

“I, I” she begins, her lungs feeling tight again “I have to marry.”

His kind eyes blink up at her, and for a moment she swears he holds on tighter to her hands.

“But you don’t want to.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. “Why do you have to?” His thumbs stroke her trembling hands and it feel and it is the gentlest thing that’s ever happened to her.

“There’s no male hair. So, if papa dies before I marry, we’ll lose everything”. Her voice is hoarse from screaming and she wonders if he finds her pathetic, but in his eyes she only finds sympathy, and maybe a fair share of pain.

“But you don’t have to marry Hatfield?”

She shakes her head, and more tears fall. “No, but he’s the best option. I can’t afford to wait”.

Silence for a while as he observes you.

Then,

“What if I’ll marry you?” his voice is steady, but his eyes are fixed their clasped hands.

“What?”

“I’ll marry you” he states and looks up at her again. She stares at him in disbelief, for surely, he can’t mean it. He continues. “I know it’s not a good option, but the estate will be safe, and you won’t have to marry Hatfield, you won’t have to leave Locksley Hall.”

When she just keeps staring at him in silent disbelief his cheeks turn pink. “I know I haven’t got anything to offer; you know I don’t. But -”

“Alright”. Her answers comes without her thinking about it and it seems to catch him off guard. “But, are you sure?” she asks, worried that he doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.

“Yes, Madeleine, I’m sure” he smiles, his hands continuing to gently stroke her hands.

“But, but” she starts, feeling almost dizzy. “But why would you want to marry me?”

“What?”

“Why would you help me? It would change your life forever.” She keeps her voice serious, knows that it’s of utmost importance that he understands the importance of this.

He seems struck silent and for a long while his brown eyes stare up at her in disbelief. “Well I, I mean I would, I” he starts, letting go of her hands and standing up, placing them his pockets instead. It is like he’s trying to look as nonchalant as he usually does.

Turning slightly away from her, eyes fixed on the koi fish in the pond he then continues. “Well, I’d get to live in Locksley Hall, wouldn’t I? I’d be the lord of the manor. No more hard toil in the garden”.

“So, mostly self-interest then?” She says, not knowing whether she feels more relieved or disappointed. More than anything she feels light headed.

“Yeah” he agrees, eyes still fixed on the pond. “It’s self-interest".

Silence spread between them. This is new territory that neither one knows how to tread.

In the end she stands up and he turns to look at her again, something like worry in his expression. “We, well we’ll have to discuss this. If it’s to happen it needs to happen soon.”

“It is to happen” he says, firmly, but then his cheeks turn pink again. “As long as you want it to”.

“Well then” she says, a small but genuine smile on her face. “It can’t happen here; Gretna Green is our only option. We have to come up with some excuse so we can leave for Scotland for a few days”.

He nods, but he too looks more relaxed now. “I’ll think of something”.

“So much to be fixed” she says, mostly to herself. “Wedding dress for example, though the wedding will be so small only something simple will do.”

“Could you” he begins, and he avoids her eyes again. “You could wear that dress you had on at the ball” he asks awkwardly, fidgeting slightly where he stands.

“Oh, yes of course” she says, just as awkward. “If that’s what you want”. She smiles at him, and he smiles back. Its embarrassed, but it’s tender too.

“Meet me at the fountain tonight?” he asks, and that strange fluttering sensation she’d felt when he’d pressed her against the tree makes another appearance. “To discuss how we’ll do this?”

She nods “yes, I’ll see you then. I better get back now, or Alice will notice I’ve left when she brings in breakfast.”

She turns to leave, but changing her mind mid stride she turns back to him. When she reaches him she stands on the tips of her naked, now muddy, feet. She presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you” she whispers.

***

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swtorpadawan · 3 years

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Awakenings - Chapter 8 : Small Favors

For one thing, she’d been rescued after spending the last three years imprisoned in carbonite by some Hutt crime lord and a group of thus-far unknown conspirators. She’d been blissfully reunited with Corellan Halcyon after three – technically six – years apart. She’d then found that he’d built an entire world – an Alliance, even – where they didn’t have to hide their relationship anymore. Theron Shan and Lana Beniko – Corellan’s senior advisors – had given them a whole two days to get “reacquainted”, sequestered on their old ship. (They’d both desperately needed it.) Afterwards, she’d made an impressive debut with the Eternal Alliance through her rather public sparring session with Corellan, and aside from her run-in with Xalek – and that freak of a Rattataki mercenary who Doc used to date and who’d tried to get under her skin – her introductions had gone well. She’d been ecstatic to reunite with Teeseven and Rusk; even seeing Seetoo Enntoo again had made her more emotional than she’d ever have expected. She’d reached out to Bela Kiwiiks, relieved that her old Master was still alive and thriving on a remote enclave for Jedi younglings. Kiwiiks had even tacitly approved of Kira’s ‘life choices’ with respect to Corellan and the Alliance. Perhaps most surprisingly, Kira had even made a new best friend. Vette had been fantastic these last few days; showing her around, introducing her to people, helping her redecorate her (and Corellan’s) quarters and generally being supportive. She’d been great.

For once, for maybe the first time ever, almost everything in her life was going great.

He, of course, had been amazing.

Corellan had held her gently when she’d been freed from that damned carbonite slab. She’d never admit to being afraid, but she’d honestly been terrified by the thought that that the Emperor was still within him, somewhere. He’d responded by being incredibly patient with her; letting her feel him out through the Force. Then when her mind and heart and soul had recognized that it was really him and only him, they had kissed and embraced and made love and reaffirmed their connection to each other and in that instant, he was anything but patient with her, and in ways that still brought a soft smile to her lips.

Once they were done, he had told her everything that had happened to him in her absence, and she’d done the same. Their meditations on the Defender – in between further sessions of love-making – had brought understanding. The scars on each other’s souls may never completely fade, but they had started to heal over. She could hardly imagine some of the choices Corellan had made along the way. The choice to bring so many former enemies into the fold of his Alliance. The choice to ally with the Sith Empire. The choice to no longer call himself Jedi. The choice to recruit Arcann. It was still too much to take in just yet.

But she understood.

Corellan did feel different to her in some ways. That was to be expected. No one could go through what he had without changing. But he hadn’t changed in the ways that mattered.

Not to her.

Life wasn’t all peaches and cream, of course. It had its bantha dung patties, as well.

She still didn’t know who Kabbura had been working with when he’d imprisoned her, and with the slimy Hutt dead, tracking them down would be a real challenge. Kira didn’t feel consumed by any kind of revenge, but she felt the need to be the one to close that book herself.

That was one.

She didn’t know if she should still call herself a Jedi. The Jedi in the Alliance had accepted her, and that was something. But the goal of making a place for herself within the Order that had once driven her so badly now seemed like something she should consider setting aside if it no longer suited her, considering her relationship with Corellan.

That was two.

She had still lost three years of her life. She may not have aged in that time, but the galaxy had still gone on without her.

That was three.

Kira squeezed her fingers into a fist, then buried her thoughts as she made her way through the saloon. Her old Jedi training was still useful for that sort of thing at least. As she walked, a few people she had already met perked up and greeted her with a friendly word and a nod, and these she returned. She did notice that other people were apparently still fascinated by the novelty of the Alliance Commander – the ‘invincible Outlander’ – having a ‘significant other’, quietly watching her with appraising looks from afar, sometimes exchanging a hushed whisper with a nearby companion.

She was getting used to that. It had annoyed her at first, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. And it was slowly getting better as people became accustomed to her presence. Her new outfit – this one a black and dark brown full body suit of light armor with plenty of pockets for little ‘surprises’ she could use in combat – suited her as well. She wouldn’t be caught by surprise again like she had by Kabbura on Nar Shaddaa.

Not ever again.

Kira glanced around the cantina, finally catching the hand wave from her quarry for today. He was standing near the bar, looking casual as usual with his snappy red jacket and stylish haircut.

Not that his posture fooled her.

“Hey, there.” She smiled as she approached him.

“Hey, stranger.” Theron Shan returned her smile. “How’s it going?”

“I’m doing pretty good.” Kira answered amicably.

Upon saying the words aloud, she realized that, much to her surprise, she actually was doing pretty good overall. She wouldn’t pretend that she hadn’t experienced hardships the last few years, or that there weren’t things she needed to work on now. But she could recognize those things without being consumed by them.

Ironic that I’m finally reflecting on things like a Jedi now. Kira thought to herself.

“You wanted to meet?” she continued.

Theron nodded, then gestured to catch the eye of the bartender, who was doing a good job pretending not to eavesdrop on them. Vette had introduced him to her earlier; he was a bear of a man with a thick white beard whom everyone seemed to call ‘Captain Rex’. Kira knew he’d been a veteran Republic soldier before joining the Alliance, and after the fighting he’d retired from field duty and started running the cantina. Finally prodded, he gave the duo his full attention.

Kira had taken to him quickly; he seemed an amicable guy who took people as they were and was a good listener. In other words, he was the perfect bartender. She was already on a first name basis with him. Still, even he seemed curious about her meeting with one of the senior advisors.

“Hey, you two.” He gave them a toothy grin. “What can I get you?”

Theron gestured to Kira.

“Go ahead and order. My treat.”

Kira raised an eyebrow at the offer. So it was going to be one of those kinds of talks. She though. But she played along, flashing a dazzling smile to Rex.

“Tatooine Sunset, if you please.”

“No problem, Kira.” Rex exclaimed cheerfully, then turned to Theron. “Agent Shan?”

Theron grimaced just a bit at the formal – and outdated – title. There’s a story there. Kira realized, but kept it to herself.

“That and a bottle of Corellian whiskey.” He added, laying a credit stick down on the bar. “With two glasses. Thanks, Rex.”

“Coming right up.” Rex nodded. He snatched up the credit stick then turned away and began preparing their drinks while Theron turned back to Kira.

“Tatooine Sunset? Really?” he chuckled.

She suppressed a cringe at the memory.

“Really, discovering that drink was the only positive takeaway I had from my time on that rock.”

The Shock Drum – a ground-quake causing superweapon – had almost destroyed the whole planet. Kira and Corellan had been forced to fight a sand demon that stank up their clothes once they’d finally killed it. Master Kiwiiks had been seriously injured and nearly killed. Kira and Corellan had been chased all over the desert by an insane Czerka corporate executive. Finally, they’d had to go head-to-head with an ancient Rakatan intelligence to stop it from breaking free to reign havoc on the galaxy.

Oh, and the sand had gotten everywhere.

“Yeah… I think I read that report.” Theron answered somberly. He let an awkward moment of silence fall between them before Rex returned with their drinks.

“Here we are.” He presented the tray with Kira’s fruity drink, the bottle of whiskey and the two glasses. “Need anything else?”

“Just a quiet corner, Captain. Thanks.”

“Lot of that going around.” The larger man just winked. “The booth in the back corner is open. Go ahead. I’ll keep people clear.”

Theron nodded his thanks and took up the tray in his arms, glancing to Kira. “Shall we?”

Kira rose an eyebrow but followed. The two took their seats at the booth in the corner, sitting opposite of each other. From here, she realized they could look out at the rest of the cantina with relative privacy. Theron took one of the glasses and poured himself a drink while Kira took up her drink.

Theron rose his glass to hers, giving her a slight smile.

“To new beginnings?”

“I’ll drink to that.” Kira smirked, gently clinking her glass against his, then taking a satisfying sip of her drink through her straw.

Ah. Rex knows how to mix these. Kira reflected happily. After savoring the taste, she turned back to Theron expectantly as he set his own drink down.

“So. You wanted to chat?”

“Oh, you know. Just wanted to see how you were adjusting to everything.” Theron gave her a charming, boyish grin, one that had probably beguiled dozens of beings the galaxy over, regardless of their gender or species. “You’ve had a busy week.”

Kira liked Theron. She liked him quite a bit. And she knew Corellan trusted him completely. But growing up on Korriban and then on Nar Shaddaa had taught her when she was being played. Also, he’d bought the whole bottle of whiskey with the two glasses for them both. The Jedi Knight folded her arms, her right eyebrow rising in suspicion.

“Uh-huh. Want to come clean with me, spy guy?”

Theron feigned a hurt expression on his face, then raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out what appeared to be a portable holo-device and setting it down on the table between them. The former Republic Strategic Information Service (or SIS) agent gave a sideways glance out at the occupants of the cantina – a look that Kira almost missed – and only then, apparently satisfied, simultaneously pressed two buttons on the communicator. It let out a low beep but didn’t seem to do anything else.

“Alright, you caught me. It’s a couple of things, I guess.” He chewed it over before beginning.

“The first is about him. I mean, we’ve been doing this for about a year and even now Lana and I… well, we get worried. I don’t think we always read him correctly. We can’t really tell when he’s pushing himself too hard. Or when something is genuinely bothering him. Or a lot of other things that you’d expect we’d have a feel for by now.”

Kira listened passively as Theron laid out his concerns, then looked down at the holo-device with a scrutinizing look.

“I take it that thing is jamming us?”

Theron nodded in confirmation.

“All electronic surveillance of us is blocked. Everyone trying to listen in from more than three meters out will hear nothing but white noise. And anyone who tries to read our lips will get a minor holo-distortion.”

Kira gave him a look of acknowledgement then sat back and studied Theron, chewing things over. She reminded herself again that Corellan trusted Theron – and Lana Beniko, for that matter – completely. She couldn’t relive all that they had experienced together, but she could acutely feel that connection. She couldn’t know everything, but she could understand what they meant to him.

Most people asking her about Corellan would have gotten promptly blown off. Possibly with a snappy barb, possibly with a drink to the face if they caught her on a bad day.

But she decided she should take Theron seriously. That didn’t mean she had to make it too easy on him.

“I get it. You and Lana have been working with him for all this time, but you still don’t ‘get’ him, do you? He’s an enigma you can’t crack and now you’re hoping I’ll clue you in?”

Theron sighed. “I mean… he’s just so damned heroic, you know?” he leaned towards her conspiratorially. “He always does the ‘noble’ thing, even when it seems stupid. And then he just fights his way out of it if it goes badly. The Sith and the former Imps revere him because of his strength. The former ‘Pubs respect him because he doesn’t get them killed pursuing his own petty goals. Hell, he didn’t want any of us to go with him to help rescue you.” His leaned back. “He’s this paragon to everyone else, and we know that’s not the real story.”

Theron scratched behind his head as he sipped his whiskey.

“It’s been a year, Kira. I knew him before, off and on, back when he was just the Hero of Tython. You were there. But now I’ve been working by his side almost constantly for a year and he still throws me off my game. Lana, too.”

He bit his lip, trying to find the words.

“We just want to know how to help him, because outside of the missions, I don’t think we’re doing a great job at that. And I know this is sensitive stuff. I know that. I’d never ask you to betray him. I was just hoping you could clue us in a bit. And Lana figured you’d be more likely to talk to me than to her.”

Kira nodded slowly. She didn’t dislike Lana Beniko, exactly. But she was Sith. She was a ruthless pragmatist who had once allowed Theron to be captured and tortured by the Revanites. She’d been the head of Sith Intelligence, no doubt ordering things that Kira didn’t want to think about. She had wanted to dissect Master Surro’s mind after that disaster with the Emperor on Ziost.

Then during Kira’s absence, she had found and freed Corellan on Zakuul, had helped him form the Alliance here on Odessen and had been by his side when he had toppled the Eternal Empire.

Best not to think about all that right now. Kira decided.

“How does he seem to be doing to you?” she was genuinely interested in Theron’s assessment. “Right now, I mean?”

“Honestly?” Theron chewed that over. “These last few days since you got here, he actually seems to be doing better than he’s been in ages. Dunno if you knew, but since the war ended, a few of us had been worried about him. He wasn’t angry or even distraught, but he seemed listless. It was like watching the most driven person I’ve ever met just go through the motions. But now? He’s completely re-energized. Driven. He smiles naturally; he even laughs.”

He paused in consideration.

“Really, I’ve never seen him this content before. This… happy.”

Kira gave him a soft grin, sipping her drink in quiet contentment.

“Neither have I.”

Theron blinked and sat back in his seat.

“What, really?”

Kira’s expression now widened into her trademark smirk.

“You know, back when it was just the six of us on the Defender, I remember it felt like there was always something in the way of him just letting go of everything.” Kira explained. “He did occasionally relax when I prodded, and he was always attentive and supportive to each of us with whatever each of us had going on. He never seemed to get too down on himself, but I could tell that some part of him was always thinking about the next challenge. If it wasn’t Vitiate, it was the rest of the Sith. If it wasn’t the Sith, it was the Hutts. If it wasn’t the Hutts, it was the Revanites. And if it wasn’t the Revanites, then it was worrying about your mom finding out about us.”

Kira immediately cringed and shot Theron an apologetic look.

“Uhm. No offense.”

Theron just let out a low groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kira had remembered a second too late that the subject of Satele Shan, former Grand Master of the Jedi Order, remained a sore issue for the former SIS agent, her son.

“Ugh. None taken.”

She nodded and pressed on. “Towards the end, before the invasion, I mean, it was starting to get to him. But it’s different now. He’s still driven but he’s… balanced, I guess. More important, like I said, he’s actually happy.”

“That’s a relief.” Theron let out a breath. “I’m thankful you’re willing to tell me that.”

“Well, I know how much Corellan thinks of you.” Kira smirked. “Also, I think you kind of get my personality, so I wouldn’t have to worry too much about saying the wrong thing.”

Theron chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess we’re both kind of used to being the snarkiest people in the room, aren’t we?”

“No surprise there.” Kira beamed. “Corellan’s never been great at sarcasm himself, but as long as I’ve known him, he’s been drawn to those kinds of people. Me. You. Doc. Even Scourge could get a witty line in every now and again.”

As she spoke, a stray memory from years before rose to the surface.

“Come to think of it, Orgus Din was his last Master before he was knighted.” She mused somberly, reflecting on the late Jedi Master, slain more than a decade ago. “If there’s ever been a Jedi on the Council more sarcastic than Master Orgus, I’d definitely want to meet them.”

“Wish I’d known him.” Theron seemed all too aware of what Kira was referring to. “Hey. Know who else is like that? Senya. She seems to have grown pretty close to the Commander.”

Kira pursed her lips. “Arcann’s mother.” She said quietly. “Valkorion’s … wife.” She let a small dose of venom slip into her voice.

“She’s stood by us.” Theron turned his head as he picked up her tone. “Notwithstanding the time she went AWOL to try to save Arcann, no one has fought harder for the Alliance than Senya Tirall. You should give her a chance.”

Kira remembered feeling the affection, respect and even reverence Corellan held for the former Knight of Zakuul. So she just nodded. One step at a time. She let out a breath.

“I will. When I’m ready.”

Theron just nodded in understanding, then pressed on, eager to change the subject.

“But yeah. I felt like a complete idiot when Teeseven showed all of us the holo of the two of you together.” He shook his head. “I missed the signs.”

“Heard about that.” Her eyebrows bumped up in amusement. “I love that droid. But wow. That must have been a fun meeting.”

“You have no idea. I mean… I’d seen the two of you together in person a bunch of times, and even together in action. Especially during that fight with Kael on Yavin.” Theron’s eyes widened and he face-palmed with another groan. “And then that Nar Shaddaa operation with Jonas on Nar Shaddaa! Dammit. I should have seen it. Some spy I turned out to be.”

“Yup. I still have the dress from that Nar Shaddaa trip, by the way.” Kira snickered, sipped her drink, then reached out and patted his shoulder. “Wouldn’t mind busting it out again one of these days.”

“Don’t sweat it, Shan.” She quipped. “We never really told anyone. Even Teeseven only knew because he saw us that one time on Dromund Kaas. Maybe a scarce few people figured it out along the way, but whoever they were seemed to have kept it quiet. We didn’t want to compromise anyone else.”

Theron sat back with an impressed look.

“You even kept it from your crew? For, what, four years?”

“Yeah.” Kira felt a twinge of embarrassment. “I mean, looking back, I would guess that Scourge probably figured it out. I mean, he was a Force-sensitive living in our cargo bay on our ship. Even with his emotions muted, he must have felt… something. But he never said anything. Guess I should have appreciated him more than I did.” She cast her eyes down at the table, surprised at her own emotions.

I miss Scourge. How messed up is that?

“Rusk hasn’t said anything, but I figure he suspected at the very least. Doc was only fooled because he was kind of an idiot and he didn’t see either of us clearly. He thought I was uptight because I turned him down hard, and he figured Corellan was repressed because he wouldn’t be his wingman to some club opening on Coruscant.” She shrugged. “We were discreet. We had a whole system to keep people in the dark. But… well, we were young and in love.” She gave Theron a cheeky look. “We probably weren’t being quite as careful as we thought we were.”

“Must have been tough.” Theron chuckled.

“I do actually miss those days sometimes.” She felt wistful at the remembrance. Force. I am getting sentimental in my old age. “For all our conflicting personalities, for all the fighting and the frantic pace, we eventually became a well-oiled machine. We all knew each other’s rolls and what to do.”

Theron sat up, intrigued.

“I take it a lot of that was from the tactics he setup?”

Kira remembered that Corellan had taken what he’d learn of strategy from his experiences with their old crew – with their diverse capabilities and backgrounds – and had implemented then on an entire para-military organization in the Eternal Alliance. If it had been anyone else, she’d have thought that would be impossible.

“Yeah. It was one of the toughest things to figure out when we first teamed up. He doesn’t really have a distinct fighting style. I mean, yeah, he fights using jar’kai techniques with his twin lightsabers, but he throws in moves from all the major forms.”

She leaned back, her brow furrowing.

“He doesn’t have just one thing going for him, see? He looks at his foes, his allies, the terrain, and the situation, and he just adapts to all of that brilliantly. What are his opponents’ strengths and their weakness? What are his actual goals? I used to hear other Jedi Masters on Tython talk about that sort of thing all the time, but he does it on a level none of them could touch. All instinctively.” She bit her lip. “And if they have a Force bond with you, you find yourself adapting right along with him. It doesn’t feel like they’re controlling you or anything; I’d never go for that. it’s more like they’re leading you while in a dance. And sometimes you’re leading them, too.”

“It took me weeks to figure all of this out, but once I did, it made fighting beside him amazing. It was better than…” A smirk came to her lips, impishly. “Well. I won’t say that because he’s actually really good at that, too.”

Theron rolled his eyes, dramatically. “Okay. Okay. Too much information there, Carsen.”

She let out a chuckle at him.

“Anyway, it’s not just about how he fights. He adapts to everything that way. Every situation he finds himself in. Regardless of whether it’s good for him to adapt. Diplomacy. Military strategy. Ship maintenance. Whatever. He adapts. So when you guys put him in charge of this outfit, all while he still had Valkorion bouncing around in his head, I think he made a lot of decisions on who he needed to become. To win against Zakuul, and against Valkorion. That’s why he’s projected this image of the ‘invincible hero’ to everyone. He thought that’s what they all needed.”

Kira looked up wistfully at Theron.

“Because losing wasn’t an option.”

Theron’s expression fell as his mouth opened to speak, but Kira cut him off, quickly reaching out and pressing a finger to his lips.

“I know. It was all for the greater good.” She sighed sadly, withdrawing her finger from him, and looking down at the table.

“It always is.”

Theron sat dumbstruck, looking at her sympathetically.

“Look, I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He stammered. “I mean, I thought about the strain we were putting on him and I know Koth did, too. But he just bounced back every time he got knocked down, and then he was just standing there, stoic as a duracrete wall. And we needed him. Force knows, we needed him. He once went missing on Dromund Kaas for less than a day, and Saresh was trying to seize control of the Alliance out from under us. We should have known it wasn’t that simple.”

Kira just shrugged helplessly.

“He’s spent his entire life becoming what other people needed him to become. I just want him to be him.” She bit her lip. Dammit. I don’t normally let this get to me. “And he does want this, Theron. The Alliance, I mean. It means so much to him I can’t even tell you. But even I can’t really tell if he wants it for himself, or for everyone else.”

She let that settle in.

“Something to think about, huh? Force, I wish you’d been here with us all this time. This all could have gone differently. We should have found you.” he shook his head. “No, I should have found you. I found your ship right where you left it. With your history, it should have been obvious you’d headed to Nar Shaddaa.” He reached for his glass, looking disgusted with himself.

She looked up at him.

“Don’t sweat it, Theron. I told him the same thing – that I wish I’d been here for this. He told me he was glad I wasn’t.”

Theron nearly coughed out his whiskey.

“What?” he stammered. “Why?”

“The Emperor, Theron.” Kira cringed at the memory. “If he’d ever known about us, he’d have used me against him.”

The former spy cursed. “Dammit.”

Kira’s lips quirked but her eyes remained downcast.

“A thousand-year old demigod living in his mind couldn’t figure out that we’d been together, Theron. Even though he knew perfectly well who I was. Those are the kinds of walls Corellan Halcyon puts up in his mind. So like I said, don’t sweat it too much for not picking up on it. And don’t beat yourself up too much for not finding me.”

It was hard for her to get the words out. But Theron deserved to hear them.

“I’m sorry anyway.” He insisted. “You deserved more, and so did he.”

Kira shook her head.

“He’s not used to relying on people outside of our crew for any length of time. Or at least he wasn’t before. Like I said, most people just want to press on with their lives. And more than one has let him down.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t want to be one of them.” He said determinably.

She eyed him for a moment, biting her lip. This conversation was bringing back more old memories, some best left forgotten. Theron inevitably caught her look; maybe he was learning to read her.

“What is it?”

She took in a long breath. At this point, she was becoming comfortable sharing things with Theron that she’d never shared with anyone.

He deserved the truth. For better and for worse.

“Ziost bothered him.” Kira offered quietly. “I mean, it bothered him a lot.”

Theron visibly cringed at the mention of the doomed Imperial world, where it had all gone so terribly wrong.

“Well, it shook us all up.” He managed. “I mean, even Lana was…”

Kira scowled at Theron in annoyance. His obtuseness grated.

“I don’t mean the planet getting wiped out, you idiot.” She snipped, keeping her voice low. “That was Vitiate. I don’t even mean the damned invasion. That was Saresh. I mean the part where you called in a super-secret Jedi strike team to deal with the damned Emperor when you had the Hero of Tython on speed-dial.”

The look of shock on his face would have been satisfying if she’d been trying to get to hassle him.

“Oh.” Theron fell back in his seat, sullenly.

Kira felt the pings of guilt at his reaction.

“Sorry.” She shivered and placed her hand on his. “Those were bad memories for me, too. I didn’t mean to hassle you about it. I just get defensive of him.”

“He never said anything.” Theron offered, still shaken.

“He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t want to acknowledge that it got to him. He doesn’t want to acknowledge that anything gets to him. And to be fair, not much does. But like I said - he’s been let down by a few allies over the years – Saresh, just to name one – and I think he really didn’t want to add you to that list of people.” She squeezed his hand. “He really does think highly of you, Theron. A lot. Like, we’ve teamed up with a lot of people, and he calls all of them his friend. And for most of them? We take care of their problem, then say our goodbyes, and that’s it. They go on with their lives, and we go on to the next disaster. Maybe they send us a nice thank you note. Beyond that, we probably never hear from them again.”

“Unless, of course, they needed our help again.”

Kira paused, pulling her hand back and sipping her drink before continuing.

“So believe me, Theron. He didn’t look at you like that. He still doesn’t. He thinks the galaxy of you. He’s already told me plenty of stories. You know what he saw when he met you? He saw someone willing to break the rules if it meant doing the right thing. He’s never forgotten that. But you have to understand that some part of him worried that if most people saw beneath the robes – beneath the armor and the ‘hero’ mask – they’d all just take what they needed from him and then walk away.” She paused. “I think he’s figuring out he was wrong about that. Certainly with you, anyway.”

“Thanks.” Theron had finally collected himself by now, giving her a thankful look. Kira just chuckled.

“What I’m saying is, he truly values your friendship. A lot. Even if hasn’t been any good at showing it. So if you ever get an idea in your head that you’ll – I dunno – pretend to betray the Alliance as part of some convoluted plan so you can go undercover and infiltrate some conspiracy… well, please don’t do that. Because then I really would have to beat you up.”

Theron scoffed.

“Oh, come on! I’d never do something that ridiculous!” he blustered indignantly.

“Well, I’d certainly hope not!” she laughed at his reaction. “You’re a good friend to him, Theron.” She bit her lip in consideration, then hastily added. “You and Lana. You just didn’t understand how his mind worked. Hardly anyone does. He still surprises me, and I’ve got a Force bond with him.”

“Yeah.” Theron nodded in understanding. “You know, he spent ten minutes apologizing to us after your debriefing ended. For not trusting us with his relationship with you or that he’d been hurting inside. Then he spent the rest of the day authorizing more Alliance operations than he had in the previous six weeks combined. He’s been on a tear like that ever since. It is stretching our resources a little, but damn if it isn’t good to have him like this. The troops like it, too.”

Kira thought she knew exactly why Corellan Halcyon had suddenly started flexing his operational muscles and what it meant. As her cheeks started burning in a blush, she took another gulp of her drink, eternally grateful to the Force that Theron was apparently too caught in his speech to notice.

“But I’d never want to disappoint him again. Or you, for that matter. That’s why I hope you know you can trust me.” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Both with what you tell me here, and not to tell anyone about your past.”

Kira blinked once hard; her blush forgotten as her blood froze. The Jedi Knight set her glass down as she regarded the Alliance advisor, coolly. To the best of her knowledge, no one outside of the Jedi Council and her old crew knew about her history as a Child of the Emperor, or as a Sith. No one besides the remaining Children, anyway, and they’d been wiped out years ago.

Her eyes narrowed on those of the former Republic agent.

“You pull that little nugget out of my file, spy-guy?” she kept her voice level.

Theron shook his head vigorously.

“It wasn’t in your SIS file.” He said definitively. “I only put it together because of two completely unrelated assignments I worked on. Trant had me close the file on Godera’s errant weapons projects back when I was regulated to desk duty after my ‘trip’ to Hutta. That’s how I found out about Valis on that abandoned mining station. Years later, when we were prepping for the Korriban op, I noticed how Corellan deferred to you a few times when it came to getting around the Sith Academy. Eventually, I put all the pieces together. Never reported it to anyone, though. Not even Lana. I swear.”

He gave her a playful smile. “Your file was thick enough without the extra baggage.”

“Thanks. That’s a relief.” She let out a breath but then caught herself. “Wait, just how big is my SIS file?”

“Oh, it’s not that big. It only got priority at the time because of that resistance group you were running with after Zakuul invaded. Trent and his bosses were paranoid you’d all break the treaty and trigger a new war… which I know must sound rich coming from me considering that’s exactly what I helped do, later.”

Kira suppressed a despondent look at the mention of the resistance group she’d been running with after the defeat on Tython. It was one more wound she had to work through in her own time. Theron, meanwhile, pressed on, apparently oblivious.

“I’m kinda embarrassed that I was able to figure things out about your past but not your relationship. I guess it’s because he looked like a model Jedi otherwise. It was only later I started to see him differently. But genuinely, your file mostly covers jobs you, Corellan and your crew did for us – for the service, I mean, sorry, force of habit there – dating back to Reid Gandon on Coruscant. Nothing from before that, really. Just that you grew up on Nar Shaddaa before Master Kiwiiks recruited you into the Order.”

Kira scrunched up her face in contemplation, trying to remember.

“Reid Gandon. That was that thing with the Justicars, right?”

“That’s the one. Reid’s a good man. We go way back. You know the Justicars’ whole organization collapsed a few weeks after the two of you paid them a visit? I mean, they had other problems. Their supply of weapons from the Empire was cutoff, for one. Also, Illaynah – Major Antilles, I mean – led a Havoc Squad op down there around that same time. That’s two. Regardless, they never recovered.”

“Huh.” Kira shrugged, relieved to be talking about something that hadn’t left a wound. “Well. They were jerks.”

“Yeah, they were. But you and Corellan got that sort of thing a lot, huh? People just coming up to you and asking for help?” Theron mumbled in disbelief. “Has he ever met anyone who wasn’t trying to get something out of him?”

Kira’s memory again stirred at that, like a nexu cat discovering a mouse running past its nose.

“Well, Theron.” she gave him a sharp look, her eyebrows furrowing as her lips tweaked upward. “There was this one time, we were docked at Carrick Station, I actually just told him to go out and make a friend outside of our crew. Outside of the Jedi Order and the Republic military. Just someone who… he could just talk to and who he might share some common interests with. Just, you know, a friend.” She shrugged. “Whatever that means, anyway.”

Theron chuckled at the absurdity of Corellan Halcyon heading into Carrick Station in pursuit of a ‘normal’ friendship.

“Really? How’d that work out?”

Kira eyed him knowingly as she sipped her drink.

“You tell me.”

Several seconds passed before Theron’s eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, blast it. That’s when I met him at the cantina, wasn’t it? And practically the first thing I did was ask him to take on an off-the-books mission that the SIS wanted nothing to do with. And then a year later I was calling you guys in again for the Korriban op.” He turned away guiltily. “Kriff. I’ve used him just like everyone else did.”

Kira reached out and squeezed his hand again.

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself. He saves almost everyone he meets, never mind saving the whole galaxy from Vitiate’s ritual.”

Theron turned back to his drink, grumbling as he shook his head.

“Who does he think appointed him the galaxy’s defender, anyway?”

“Who knows?” Kira’s eyes looked towards the ceiling, having considered the same question more than a few times in her life. She withdrew her hand. “The Force. Your mother when she knighted him and named him the ‘Hero of Tython’. Scourge when he told him he was destined to kill the Emperor. Lana when she freed him from carbonite and told him he was the galaxy’s last hope to stop the Eternal Empire.”

Me. She thought to herself with a hint of bitterness. When I told him that I had been a Child of the Emperor and that the Sith would never stop hunting me. Corellan just stood there on our ship, having been a Jedi Knight for all of a month, and told me that he would protect me with his life. Those comforting words had filled Kira with a warmth that grew into a fire. And eventually, an eternal flame.

Was I using him all that time, too?

Kira hastily buried away that unwanted thought, mentally recognizing it as a lingering insecurity and refocusing on Theron.

I am not the lost child anymore.

“The point is, he’s spent his almost his entire adult life with people pleading with him for help, telling him that he was the only one who could save them. Look. He’s saved my life about… five times now, and that’s not counting stuff that happened in the ‘natural’ flow of combat. Believe me, that was a blow to my ego. I don’t like feeling like a damsel in distress. We’re supposed to be partners, dammit.”

She frowned, then looked back up at Theron.

“But if I can get over all that, then so can you.”

Theron looked away sullenly, digesting the bantha-sized heap she’d dumped on him. He finally offered a weak chuckle.

“Want to hear a funny story?”

“Sure.” Kira shrugged. She noted with some trepidation that he still wasn’t look at her.

“These last few weeks – ever since the war ended, really – he’d been… distracted. Like I told you before. He’s felt listless. I’ve caught him a few times looking up into the sky like there was something in the galaxy calling out to him.” He turned away from Kira, eyeing the wall. “I kept remembering the old stories about Revan that Master Zho taught me growing up. After Revan destroyed the Star Forge and saved the galaxy, I mean. He could have settled down with Bastila, they could have raised some kids together and he could have happily lived out the rest of his life. Instead, he couldn’t resist the call of whatever was calling out to him.”

He stared blankly at the table.

“Turned out, of course, that it was the Emperor that the Force was trying to warn Revan about. This was centuries before the Republic even knew the Sith Empire still existed. And following that call cost Revan everything he had, including his sanity.”

Theron’s eyes finally refocused on Kira with a hurt expression, like he was reliving something unpleasant.

“I was worried that the Commander was going to leave us. Like Revan left Bastila. That he’d grab his astromech droid and jump in his ship one day, fly off, and we’d never see him again.”

Theron reached for his drink only to find the glass empty. Before he could react, Kira took up the bottle and refilled it for him. Theron just nodded his thanks.

“I guess we all got lucky, huh?” he hoisted the glass in her direction in a melancholic toast, still with a gloomy look. “Revan was looking to chase down the next threat to the entire galaxy. Corellan was looking for you.”

Kira stared back at him expressively, letting the awkward silence sit.

“Sorry. It doesn’t sound as funny when I say it out loud.”

“Maybe not.” Kira assented. “Alright. While we’re telling jokes that aren’t funny, I have one for you.”

Theron shrugged. “Hit me.”

“I had this thought this one time. That if you had wound up growing up to be the Jedi hero and Corellan had wound up the emotionally repressed spy, you’d both probably both have lived happier lives.”

For the third time that day, Theron let out a pained groan.

“Maybe.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ouch.”

“You know I’m just teasing you, right?” she smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t talk about this to anyone else?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that. You’re alright, Kira.” He gave her a smile, shrugging off his fugue. “On that note if I could ask for one more favor. Regarding the Alliance…”

Kira made a face. She’d seen this one coming.

“Uh-oh. This is that second thing you wanted to talk about, right? Is this about that thing with Xalek? Or the one with Kaliyo?”

Theron looked apologetic.

“Well, I know that both were way out of line. But the whole thing did worry us just a little.”

Kira knew by now that by ‘us’ he meant himself and Lana Beniko.

“I’d never take it further than that.” She exhaled. “Look. I’ve been to more than my share of Republic army bases, Theron. I get the whole concept of a ‘General’s spouse’, and all the problems that entails. There’s no way I’m gonna go ‘lord’ anything over anyone, and there’s not a chance I’m not gonna pull my weight around here.”

Theron nodded and sat back in relief.

“Thanks. I didn’t want to give you a hard time about it. The dynamic and identity of this whole operation – what makes the Eternal Alliance what it is – well, it’s still forming. It’s constantly evolving. Morale is high, and I think it’s a good thing overall that people realize the Commander is a person and not some ‘mythic hero’, but it does open up the possibility of people trying to influence him through… backdoor means.” He focused on her intently.

“We kinda need your help making sure things like that don’t happen.”

“I can do that.” Kira nodded in agreement, then gave him a hopeful look. “And you know what? Just as a gesture… I have, in fact, been approached by three different people this past week, asking me if I could ‘have a word’ with the Commander on their behalf. For more resources, or to approve some project or just for some other favor. I very politely told them all to go through you and Lana.”

“Really? Wow.” His eyes widened in surprise. “I mean, I appreciate that. I know Lana will, too.”

Kira studied the former SIS agent closely. She’d almost missed it.

“You already knew, didn’t you?” she smirked. She’d heard that Theron kept an eye on things around the Alliance base, and she believed it.

“Actually no!” Theron’s face turned jovial at the half-hearted protest, chuckling. He had cheered up considerably, and he seemed to be getting used to Kira being able to read him. “I only knew about Oggurobb requesting more funding for his new xenobiology lab and Gault’s little currency exchange scheme. What was the third?”

“The Mandalorians.” Kira grinned. “Khomo Fett talked to me. They were hoping for a larger allotment of recovered Zakuulan equipment.”

“Really?” Theron made a face. “Sheesh. We already gave them ten crates of personal weaponry!”

“They’re Mandos, Theron. They always want more guns.”

Theron rolled his eyes.

“Well, regardless, thanks for telling me. You can always bring these things to me, Kira. I won’t let it get back to anyone.”

“Appreciate that.” She rewarded him with a smirk. There was no sense in developing a reputation as a snitch. “I’m glad we worked this out. And to answer your original question, I’m not gonna tell you he’s doing perfect, Theron. The Emperor… Vitiate… Valkorion… Tenebrae… whatever the hell his name is this week… did a number on him. But yeah, he’s okay. He’s recovering. Honestly.”

Theron’s face suddenly turned in an amused expression as he covered his lips with his fingers. Kira made a face as she reached out and swatted him in the arm, playfully.

“And no. It is NOT just because he’s not sleeping alone anymore.”

That got another chuckle from Theron.

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just kinda nice to see the both of you happy. You both deserve it.” He let out a breath. “I’m sorry we take up so much of his time. I know that can put a strain on things. It must be tough, even now.”

Kira appreciated Theron’s sentiment. She truly did. But the temptation to have some fun with him was too good to resist, so she smirked across the table at him.

“Theron Shan. Everything else I’ve been going through aside do I look like a woman who’s unsatisfied?”

Theron visibly rolled his eyes at the innuendo. “Alright, alright. Fair enough.”

“All that legendary stamina he has isn’t just for fighting, you know.” She pressed.

“Oh stop it.” Now he was starting to get flustered.

“I can deal with the rest of it knowing that the greatest warrior in the galaxy does this thing with his tongue…” she was getting vicious, now.

“Kira!” Theron barely kept his voice down, looking aghast. She noted with amusement that he had turned red with embarrassment. “I surrender. You’ve made your point.”

“Good, because I was going to start discussing the finesse of his swordplay, next.”

Theron groaned, head falling forward in his arms.

“Force. I need another drink.”

Kira managed to stifle her laugh, just watching him smugly.

“Anyway, Theron, I do appreciate your concern about Corellan. And Lana’s. And everyone else’s, for that matter. But making sure he’s doing okay isn’t your job.”

Her smirk widened as his head rose to look back up at her.

“That’s my job, Theron.”

He sat back, with an impressed look at her resolve. “Fair enough, Kira. I accept all of that, and I trust you. But can you do me the favor of telling us if he ever does need help? If there’s ever anything he needs from us that he’s too stubborn to ask us? Because I dealt with not knowing what he needed for almost two months and I don’t want to do that again.”

Kira looked across the table at Theron and felt trust and affection for how far he’d gone. For the galaxy, the Alliance, and for Corellan.

“I promise.” She vowed quietly, now with complete sincerity.

“Thanks.” Theron smiled like weight of the galaxy had been taken off his shoulders. “Still though. Joking aside, this must be rough. Sharing him with everyone else, I mean.”

Kira didn’t respond right away. She simply withdrew into herself for a long moment as, not for the first time that day, she studied Theron’s features in deep consideration.

Should I really trust him with this?

She gave a quick glance around the cantina. If anyone had been paying attention to them at the start of their talk, that had long since passed. People were going about their business. Finally satisfied that they had a reasonable amount of privacy here, she reached down to her waist and unclipped her lightsaber from her belt.

Theron blinked in surprise as she set the double-bladed weapon down on the table lengthwise, but to his credit, he demonstrated no other concern at being this close to such a lethal device. That done, she took up the hilt again in both hands, ignoring the activation stud. Instead, she carefully twisted both ends of the weapon, triggering a mechanism that allowed a small panel in the middle of the staff to slide out of place.

The hidden chamber revealed within Kira’s hilt was tiny, only a few millimeters wide, and not even as long. But it was large enough for what it contained within.

Kira held out the staff hilt towards Theron, just far enough for him to peer into the chamber.

The former SIS agent’s jaw dropped.

Kira’s lips turned up just a bit in another satisfied smile. She gave him a second, then withdrew the hilt, twisted both ends back into place. The weapon was once again much like any other deactivated double-bladed lightsaber. It clipped neatly to her belt, as she sat back to regard him.

Theron visibly swallowed as he recovered from the surprise. Rather shaken, he sipped his drink.

“How long?” he finally asked, struggling to look Kira in the eyes.

“Since before we met you.” She turned away from him now, looking just over his shoulder. Her expression grew wistful, as she remembered that one skiing adventure on Alderaan.

“And he still…?” he left the question unfinished.

“When I woke up, he said I could take it out and hold him to it whenever I wanted.” Kira answered it anyway. “That it was my choice. But he told me that he hoped that I would wait until I had given this place a chance. When I was totally comfortable here, with this place and these people.”

She closed her eyes and bit her lip.

“I’ve been sharing Corellan Halcyon with the rest of the galaxy for years, Theron Shan. I can share him with you guys for a little longer if it gets all of us all to a better place. A better galaxy.” She sipped the last of her Tatooine Sunset, her deep blue eyes looking up at Theron. “I know that when I… cash this thing in, it won’t be the end of it. And that’s okay! Yeah, part of me wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life lying on the beach on Rishi, working on my tan while he rubs me down with lotion. Or soaking in a hot spring with him. Or even just laying curled up in bed with him. But I’m an adrenaline junkie. I know I’d get bored of that eventually. I know there will be more missions, and fighting, and lunatics trying to burn down the galaxy. I’d just like to be able to kidnap him for a vacation now and again without worrying that it’ll plunge the galaxy into war.”

“But for now, it’s enough for me to have it, and to know what it means.”

She set the empty glass down.

“So yeah. I can play ball with you. I can objectively tell you when he needs time off. And I can promise to do all I can to help you and Lana keep the Alliance going, and not keep him in bed late into the mornings. But I do need something in return from you. And from Lana, I guess. Someday, I’ll ask the two of you to do something for me.”

Theron tried to keep his face nonplussed at the offer and did a pretty good job of it. No surprise, given that he’d been a professional spy. Playing it cool, he took the second empty glass Rex had given him and filled it, lightly pushing it in Kira’s direction before topping off his own glass.

“Sure. What is it you want?” he asked. Theron’s words were nonchalant, but he couldn’t entirely keep the wariness from his voice.

Kira felt her lips turn upward in a sincere smile. Her eyes drifted over Theron’s shoulder again, as she watched an assortment of Alliance members lingering around the cantina’s dance floor. Nothing particularly remarkable seemed to be going on. Most of them were just talking and laughing. A pair of couples were slowly dancing to that Force-awful Huttese music playing on the jukebox. They were just idly socializing.

They were just living.

She sipped the Corellian whiskey. It was a bit dry for her tastes, but even with her slight buzz going, it took the edge off. And even after her Sunset, she needed that right now.

“Someday I’ll ask for the two of you to tell him that he can finally stop fighting.” Kira’s voice dropped to a murmur. “He’s always been a hero. For as long as I’ve known him, and since long before your mother called him one. But he’s always had to be a hero because no one else could do it. Someday I need for the two of you to tell him that it’s okay. That he’s done enough for the galaxy. That its someone else’s turn to be the hero and get shot at. That he can just… walk off into the sunset.” With me on his arm. She didn’t bother to add. “That he can finally try to find some peace in this lifetime.”

“That he can finally just live.”

Her eyes refocused on Theron’s. He was looking back at her with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

“Don’t you think he deserves that much, Theron?” she pressed quietly, seeking affirmation.

Theron’s eyes turned away from her, regarding his glass. He finally downed the remainder of his drink.

“It… might be awhile before we can do that, Kira. A long while.”

“I know.” She had no illusions regarding the state of the galaxy, or of people’s natures. There’d always be someone causing trouble who needed to be dealt with, just as there’d always be someone out there who needed help.

But maybe – maybe – someone else could be the one to answer the bell when it rang.

“Okay.” Theron nodded. “I promise you: I’ll do everything in my power to find a way to make that future happen.” He looked back at her a bit puzzled. “I do wonder about one thing: What will he become if he’s not the hero?”

Kira bit her lip, then finished off her own drink.

“I dunno. I just know I’ll be there for him when it happens.” She looked down at the last drop of whiskey in her glass, then back up at him.

“Thanks for the drinks.” she offered.

“Well, thank you for the favors.” He smiled, raising his glass to her in a toast.

She grinned, picking up her own glass and clinking it to his for the second time that day.

“What’s a few small favors between friends?”

_________________________________________________

Author’s Notes: For the record, having your girlfriend come back into your life does not magically heal someone of trauma. But sometimes, it does help, especially when you’re the type of person who has a difficult time sharing their issues with others.

For those who’ve missed it, I am diverging dramatically from the storyline post-KOTET. Kira running with a resistance movement during the five-year gap was alluded to in the Master Ranos conversations but was then ignored or abandoned. The ‘Traitor’ arc basically doesn’t happen here with corresponding changes to other events.