#I'm actually ahead of the curve for the moment with this story

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Warning! Cliffhanger Ahead

~

Part 15 - Mated Bliss

In the week that Xilä and Neteyam moved into their new home together, their lives had quickly settled into a comfortable routine.

Xi would easily say she'd been enjoying every moment of domestic bliss with her husband.

With every kiss and touch, every sweet moment they shared, even their bickering disputes- he was the best mate she could ever hope for.

Sometimes, when she sat back and really thought about it all, she felt giddy, finding it difficult to contain her happiness.

Eywa, was she blessed.

~

Neteyam groaned. Wiping sleep from his face, he blinked awake. Sitting up with a start when he realized the hour, he cursed, "Shit."

He was late.

Due to meet Tasam at the border before first light that morning, he mentally berated himself for staying up so late. It was his own greedy self to blame really and the culprit over said greed laid right beside him with her tail entwined with his.

Yet still with an uncontrollable smile, he scooted forward to lean over and stare down at his sleeping mate. She had evidently rolled away from him at some point.

"Xi, sweetheart. I'm late. I have to get ready to leave now," he whispered, kissing her exposed shoulder blade.

He leaned up on an arm, peeling away the blanket that covered her bare form, before combing back the loose, soft strands of hair to see her sleeping face.

Her hair smelled intoxicating. She had washed it last night with whatever new made up concoction D'avi had gifted her, and while Xi's intention was to re-braid it, Neteyam had gotten to her first, distracting her from the task.

"Baby, I'm going, okay?" he whispered, having every intention of getting up to leave, even though he further curled himself around her whilst nosing at her ear and down her cheek.

Xilä sighed softly, stretching as she slowly woke. A face nuzzled into her neck from behind as she yawned, while a large palm smoothed up the curve of her hip, dipping into her waist before spanning her ribs. Its journey ended when it began to fondle her left breast.

"'Teyam?" she mumbled groggily, squirming backwards, gravitating to the heat of his body.

He hummed against her skin, peppering tender kisses wherever he could reach. "Don't forget my mother will be coming by this morning," he reminded softly. "She's excited to finally spend a whole day with you."

That had her much more awake now, because she had actually forgotten. Xi rubbed her eyes and asked in a hoarse scratchy voice, "Did you ask Kiri if she would come too?"

"Hm?" He was very much distracted by now. His hand had wandered down the length of her body to inspect the mess between her legs.

Testing to see if she was still drenched from last night's events, he was quite glad to feel there hadn't been much leakage.

"Kiri," she emphasized, breaking him from a naughty fantasy. "When you saw her yesterday, did you remember to ask her to be my buffer for- ooh Ow!" she gasped, hissing with a pained wince when two thick digits suddenly entered her.

Neteyam froze. "What? It hurts?" he asked, easing his fingers out to peer over her in worry.

"Yeah, a bit. I'm sore but it's fine," she assured him quietly as her tail wound tighter around his in comfort. He always got worked up if he ever crossed a line with her in bed, she realized. "Just go gentle."

"No, if you're-" he cut off when she shot him a look. Hesitating, he asked, "Are you sure?"

At her reassuring smile and nod, he relaxed again and continued, moving far more gently than before. He twirled slow circles around her clit with the pads of his fingers, then carefully dipped a finger in knuckle deep.

"Teyam, did you find out?" she asked again, squirming from the sensation between her legs.

Extremely sensitive, puffy and still filled with his seed, her breath hitched when he began to sink in and out of her entrance, testing her readiness this time.

Neteyam snickered. "Yes, babe. I did ask, but Kiri said you don't need her, and that you'll be fine- which by the way I agree with. But don't worry Tuk overheard and invited herself. So you'll have company after all- something about a girls day..." he mumbled.

She let out a breathless, "Oh okay," as the single digit stretching her continued its pace- fingering her until she was ready to accept another one.

Two fingers working her now, every pump caused the insides of her thighs to become painted in the come she'd been stuffed with.

She sighed, giving in to the pleasure. It felt good. So fucking good. Her head collided with his shoulder when she arched backwards and he hummed his approval since the shift seemed to give him more skin to attack with his lips.

Xi rocked against his fingers greedily. She was a squelching mess- his seed mixed with her own arousal. An exasperated whine escaped her when he abruptly stopped, slipping his hand away.

Neteyam gripped under her knee, hooking it over his own to spread her wide. Sticky coated fingers trailing over her skin, smearing his come wherever he touched.

"Look at me," he ordered as his thick digits sank into her again, fucking her at a leisured pace. Filling her up yet giving her nothing at the same time.

"No teasing today," she whined, rolling her hips pathetically, chasing after more.

"Then look at me and I won't tease."

The moment she locked eyes with him, he withdrew his hand from between her thighs again, making her curse in protest. His gaze bore into hers when he pressed those two fingers against her lips, prompting her to open. She held his wrist still as she sucked them clean, humming at the taste of them both, eyes glinting seductively.

Neteyam's pupils dilated and he groaned at the sight. He was fighting the powerful need to devour her- to fuck her ruthlessly as she sobbed and begged him to make her come.

"Tsaheylu, sweetheart," he said huskily, dragging her hips downward so she was closer to his throbbing dick. Tauntingly, he rubbed his tip against her clit.

Xi felt drunk off of his affections. She wanted to scream in frustration. Her being overly sensitive from last night, made his usual teasing exceedingly torturous.

Quickly grappling her queue from behind, she swung it over her shoulder, panting in anticipation as Neteyam did the same.

"Good girl," he praised, sagging against her the instant the bond was made.

He ducked his head with a commanding, "Kiss me," and claimed her mouth as he lined himself up, sinking deep between her folds.

Moving slowly, he stretched her, inch by inch until he was fully sheathed. He pressed down gently on the bulge of her stomach where he sat, amazed every time he felt and saw the outline of himself there. He savored the snug fit inside of her, warm and wet and squeezing him just right.

Xi moaned against his lips, releasing an unhappy whine when made no effort to move.

Breaking the kiss, he grinned wickedly at the scowl she shot him. He loved how needy and desperate she would get for him. The sight of her flushed cheeks and pouty lips- and her eyes...fucking hell, he was done for.

Unable to stay still a moment longer, he rolled his hips, taking hold of hers, controlling her to his liking.

Their lovemaking was slow and sweet that morning. A far cry from the wild, sweaty night they'd shared a mere few hours ago.

Neteyam's movements were lazy, almost as if he had all the time in the world to fuck her. He sensually licked and sucked at her neck, practically feasting on her skin. His tail had abandoned hers- it was now wrapped around the thigh hooked over his, keeping her spread wide.

A nagging part in Xi's mind knew she should care that he would be late for his duties but she couldn't find it within herself. The pleasure was too much, too good, too addicting.

"Faster," she pleaded, hands fisting in their sheets with a wanton whine. "Faster, plea-"

"No. Just like this," he said, denying her request. "Sorry baby, you're sore, remember?" he teased, slowing his pace even further. "You said to be gentle. I'm being gentle."

She wanted to cry, his rhythm was tormenting. About to curse at him for using her own words against her, he suddenly pinched hard on her nipple and a moan escaped her- mingled with pain and pleasure, it echoed around their tent.

Neteyam sank deep into her, ever slowly dragging back so that just the tip of him sat against her slit before delving back in at the same speed, over and over and over, hitting all the right places inside of her.

Body quivering from the pleasure, Xi mewled. She felt like she was going insane, it was too much, too intense.

The build up was torturously good, but yet it wasn't enough. She wanted more- she wanted to come- she needed it.

"I can't- Teyam, please, please, p-"

"You close, sweetheart?" he asked, nipping her pointed ear. His breath was labored, and it was taking everything within in him not to flip his mate onto her stomach and fuck her hard.

The position was also killing his back since he had to practically contort himself around her because of how small she was.

"Mmhmm. So-so close, but I need-" she broke off into a sob.

"What do you need, baby?" he asked in faux concern, tightening his hold on her when she began to squirm.

"More- ugh. Teyam, make me come- Oh Eywa!" she cried when he changed his angle.

She turned to peer up at him, tears welled in her eyes as she bit hard on her bottom lip. "Please," she begged, reaching downward to touch herself. But before she could, he snagged her wrist away, shooting her disapproving look.

Xilä clutched a nearby pillow. Stuffing it into her face, she released a muffled, ragged scream. She was on the cusp, she could feel the rupture right there. All she needed was just a little more.

Finally taking pity on his poor mate, and on the verge of bursting himself, Neteyam gave in.

The hand that had been playing with her breasts- pinching and rolling her nipples, sailed downward to work her clit.

Xi panted and babbled incomprehensibly as he began to rub tight circles on her swollen nub. Her body was tense and shaking, feverishly awaiting the impending crash of her orgasm.

Her hand shot towards his moving wrist, squeezing desperately as her walls clenched around him, causing him to growl against her cheek.

Neteyam came first with a guttural groan, which pushed her right over the edge as she too came with a silent cry- body tense as she snapped. Almost on the verge of pain when she exploded, her thighs trembled- everything trembled as heat licked her inside out.

He continued to lazily thrust into her, pushing his seed as far in as possible, until he couldn't physically continue, limbs gone limp in protest.

They were both panting and spent as they laid still for a couple minutes, gathering their energy, basking in the aftermath.

Neteyam felt like sludge, he felt as if she'd taken everything from him, leaving him weak and boneless. Meanwhile Xi couldn't move a muscle as she recovered from her brain numbing high. She closed her eyes, fatigue fighting her.

It wasn't until Neteyam began to move her, did she rouse from a light doze.

"You're late," she chastised with a blissful smile as she settled more comfortably into the cocoon of his arms, feeling coming back to her numb toes and legs.

He made an offended sound. "Well good morning to you too," he laughed, gently easing his dick out of her. "I just gave you an orgasm. And a good fucking one at that. Are you really complaining?" he teased as he set her thigh down and rolled her onto her stomach to brandish a playful smack to her ass.

She squealed, gasping when he leaned over and bit the flesh he'd just smacked. Huffing at his antics, she complied when he manhandled her into his arms again- front facing him this time.

"How do you feel? Are you okay?" he asked, brushing her bed hair from her face. "You were quiet," he murmured with a frown, eyes tracing her features as if they would tell him what was wrong.

"You mean I wasn't screeching at the top of my lungs like a mountain banshee as usual?" she smiled, voice still soft. "I'm fine, promise. My throat's still a bit sore after last night," she admitted with a blush. "It hurts whenever I talk- but hey, it's nothing a bit of brewed char'mill leaf can't help," she quickly assured when she saw his horrified expression.

He grew panicked at her meaning. Spluttering, he said, "What? Oh shit, Xi. I'm sorry. I- fuck, I should've been more caref-"

Tugging him down by his nape, she shushed him, silencing him with a kiss. Lips and tongue forcing his squawk of protest away, halting his distress.

"Handsome, it's going to be light soon. You should get going," she suggested when they broke apart, trying to distract him from the topic.

"Xilä," he said seriously, cupping the back of her neck, trailing a thumb down her throat. He had fucked her mouth last night not realizing how rough he'd been. Guilt tore at him.

"Stop fretting," she chastised. "I'm already nervous about spending an entire day alone with your mother. You're not helping with that guilty expression of yours right now. It's too early and I'm too tired to make you stop worrying. I told you I'm fine, okay?" she said, forcing a funny looking smile on his face by pushing up the corners of his mouth with her thumbs.

"Fine- but say something next time. Please," he stated firmly, unmoving from the discussion.

'He was so bossy sometimes,' she thought, holding in a snicker. For his sake, she nodded in agreement anyway.

It would be too difficult to try to explain how she'd very much enjoyed what they had done last night, and that she was simply feeling the after effects. 

Disconnecting their queues, he untangled himself from her, and leaped out of their hammock. He hurriedly cleansed his body, chewing on fresh van'eela bark as he washed only the necessary parts of himself for now, before throwing on his warrior garb.

Xi eventually got up too, wrapping a woven blanket around her bare waist as she headed to their kitchenette.

She cleaned her hands first before putting her Qla'ira root tea on the fire. While it boiled she then began to leaf wrap a few thick slices of HoneyCornbread and some tender leftover seared fish.

Grabbing an empty water pouch, she met him at the tent's threshold where he was securing his knives to his chest and hip.

"Have I told you the guys are jealous of all the meals you pack me?" he asked, accepting his breakfast with a smile and a sweet kiss, bending to tuck it and his water pouch into his riding satchel. "All of a sudden the unmated ones want a wife now," he chuckled.

She laughed. "Should I start packing extra then?"

"No. You only get to spoil me," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "I've got a meeting later today, so we'll try for the hunt to not take too long."

"Be safe," she said, hugging him around the waist as he hooked up his comm device to his neck and ear. "Who's your hunting partner? Tasam again?"

He nodded, adjusting his visor, taming down a few askew braids.

Since the increase in palulukan attacks, there was a temporary ban on all solo activities outside of the perimeter of Home Camp- including solo hunts. Xi was relieved to hear Tasam would be accompanying her mate. He was sure to have Neteyam's back, out past the borders.

"You smell like me," he voiced, bending to nuzzle and lick at her neck. "Am I dripping down your thighs yet?" he asked, reaching through the flap of the blanket to drag his palm up her slick coated skin.

"Neteyam!" she laughed, mildly scandalized, stopping his hand before he made contact with her core. "Go already you skxawng. You are making me blush."

"You are pretty when you blush and I like when you smell like me. People know you are mine," he said, swiping a thumb along her swollen bottom lip.

Her blush deepened down to the tips of her flushed, exposed chest. "And you say you aren't barbaric," she teased.

He shrugged as he stepped away, swinging his bag on his back- the strap crossing his chest, bow in hand. "I am but a man who loves his woman, is all."

Xi internally swooned. "You should go now before I seduce you to stay. You keep saying things that make me feel needy, husband."

Neteyam laughed. A bubbling sound disrupted his response however.

His smile dropped and he pulled a face at his offending enemy when he glanced over her shoulder and saw the little pot on the fire, boiling. He could smell the fragrant scent of Qla'ira root from where he stood.

Clearing his throat and not meeting her eyes he said, "Hey um, if you're still sore, you should go lay down in that position I told you about the other day...you know the one with your hips in the air and the pillow under you? It's supposed to be a really good stretch."

Xilä snorted at her mate's subtlety. Hooking a finger into his belt, she tugged him close again- fronts pressing, bare breasts brushing his upper abs. "Ah the position, riiiight...you mean the one that humans use in order to aid in conceiving little ones?" she asked in faux confusion.

His jaw ticked at being found out, and Xi thought the whole thing was entirely entertaining. It was honestly incredibly cute how hard he tried.

"Nice try handsome," she said sweetly. "Now go, Tasam's probably furious that you've kept him so long."

"Fine," he said sourly, stealing a final kiss with a grumpy muffled, "love you,"before raising the flap to head out.

~

After breakfast, Xi hummed as she did a quick tidy of their home.

There wasn't really much to do, but the thick pelt lining their hammock was disgusting after numerous rounds of lovemaking, so she stripped it and put on a new one.

When she finished, she got herself ready for the day and took her time to braid her hair, making sure to put back Neteyam's gifted beads.

Her braiding skill had improved by far. For the most part, Tuk and D'avi loved to style her hair for her but Xi had to learn. Salveen had told her Omatikaya females usually braided their mates' hair once bonded. So Xi of course wanted to learn for Neteyam...and maybe too for their future children when the time came.

"Xilä," called an all too familiar gruff voice from outside her tent. "Are you there?"

Xi's humming ceased. She then scrambled to make her way to the entrance. Peaking out, she saw her father standing at the base of the steps leading to the tent. Her shoulders slumped in relief when she noticed he was guarded by three male Na'vi, all armed with guns.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping out onto the landing, peering down at him in uncertainty.

T'shteyo's eyes narrowed at her response before schooling his face into something more uncharacteristically sincere. "It's been a while...I was badly injured. I thought you'd come visit me..."

When she gave no response he asked, "Won't you invite me in?"

Xi observed him, taking in how different he looked from the last time she saw him two months ago. Two months ago. So much had happened in her life since then. She was a wife now- she was no longer tied to him.

Her father looked good however. Well fed and healthy for someone who was rumored to be on his deathbed. The lingering bruises brandishing his body were the only tells he'd been in a fight.

A fleeting flash of guilt pierced her for not caring or even thinking about him during that time but the phantom ache of her wrist was the reminder she needed to not give a shit.

"Xilä?"

Blinking out of her reverie she shook her head. "No. I'm not going to invite you in," she said, hiding the tremor of her hands by folding her arms. "What do you want?"

He sighed, clearly unhappy with her response yet his face remained passive. "I'm being exiled tomorrow...I came to say- I don't know," he frowned, seeming to have trouble putting his words together. "Those two months of solitude gave me much to think about...I should have done some things differently...it could have been better. We could have been happy."

Xi stared, fidgeting ceased. 'Was he trying to apologize? No. He was capable of no such thing,' she reminded herself.

"Say something," he said.

"What would you like me to say?"

He looked taken aback by that.

"Would you like me to hug you goodbye? Wish you safe travels and tell you that I will miss you? I wish I could. I wish it hadn't come to this."

"It doesn't. If you ask them to let me stay-"

"I can't do that," she said with a frown, cutting him off.

"Can't? Or won't?" he spat, showing her a glimpse of his inner monster for a split second. His features quickly morphed back into that ugly polite expression of his that had her unnerved.

Xilä said nothing.

"It's fine," he scoffed. "What's done is done. I'll be going, I guess."

"Father, wait..." she said, and his head flickered back to her, pausing his departure. "I truly do wish you well and...thank you," she said softly, surprising him, "for bringing us here. For taking me with you. I gained a home and happiness...and I pray you find the same thing one day."

T'shteyo's lips curled into a smile. It felt foreign seeing him look so sincere. He nodded at her once in parting before motioning to the guards he was ready to leave. And without another word, without another glance, he left.

Xilä released the breath she'd been holding as she watched him walk away. This would be the last time she ever saw him, she realized. She searched her inner being for some form of sadness, but there was none.

'This is good,' she thought.

Her father being gone meant she could finally move on without that lingering nagging reminder that he was still around.

This would be a fresh start, not only for her but for him too.

~

By the time Neytiri and Tuk showed up, Xilä had gotten a grip on her emotions.

The duo had arrived with a basket full of goodies and an announcement by an overly excited Tuk, that they'd be spending the day out at a nearby glade.

Although Xi was originally a wreck of nerves at the prospect of spending the day with her mother-in-law, she quickly realized there was no need to. Neytiri was easy going and quite lovely company to be honest.

The day spent together with the Sully females was enjoyable. They picnicked near a waterfall where other roaming clusters of friends and families milled about as well. Their conversation flowed from topic to topic with ease and Xi felt relaxed and carefree as they lounged.

Tuk deserted them at some point, choosing to chase after fluttering woodsprites. She grew bored of those too then trotted off to dip her feet in the pool of rippling water where a few others were also doing the same and Xi and Neytiri watched her with matching smiles as a peaceful silence washed over them.

"Xi," Neytiri, called gently, breaking the quiet between them. Hesitantly, she asked, "Will you tell me about your mother?"

Words eluded Xilä from the sudden question and Neytiri, picking up on her shock, was quick to calm her.

"It is only of course if you want to. I don't mean to pry- well I do actually but- When I asked before...Sal and Neteyam both said it was not their story to tell...I simply wish to know."

Awkwardly shifting under her in-law's gaze and feeling her throat tighten, Xi avoided her stare.

"What would you like to know?" she croaked.

Neytiri laid a palm over her hand in comfort. "Where is she?"

"Gone."

"Gone...gone where? Why? Did- did your father send her away."

Xilä shrugged. "In his own way, maybe he did...He has never been a kind man, but over time he became worse. My mother- I think there was only so much she could take. Sometimes it felt like he was rubbing off on her- she'd always push me hard in my studies...but sometimes was cruel."

Xi took a breath before continuing. "There were plans to escape- months of planning. I never told my father because I thought-"

Staring out unseeingly, Xi swallowed hard. "My mother and a small group stole away one night and I thought- I thought she'd take me with her. I saw when she snuck away. I tried to run after her, but she...she told me to stay."

Neytiri's brows narrowed.

"She told me to remember everything she'd taught me...and then she just...left." Xilä blinked rapidly trying to tame the sting of her eyes. "She didn't even look back...not once."

"She left you," Neytriri said, voice laced in a quiet rage. "She chose to leave without you?"

Xi nodded and that seemed to irk the mother even more.

"Where is she now? Do you know?"

"The Wetlands maybe. Rumors said they went to the Hulanta clan. I don't know for sure."

Neytiri scoffed, glancing away. "She left you," she muttered to herself again, jaw jutting in fury as she pursed her lips. "She left her only child."

Xilä would bet that her mother-in-law was probably mentally cursing her mother. The thing was, she hadn't even told her the whole story- just the gist of it. And the fact that Xi hadn't even told her everything, she felt touched by Neytiri's reaction all the same.

The night she told Sal and Jxo everything about her past, Xi was in shambles after. It was a long emotional night for them all, ending when Jxo left the tent without comment- angry tears and silent outrage rolling off of him in waves.

Meanwhile Sal sobbed hysterically as if all what Xilä had said had physically hurt her- had physically caused her pain.

Neteyam had found out the story in bits and pieces, through scattered conversations during their training days.

From since early on in their friendship he'd had a knack for getting her to open up. And although most times he'd be quiet and brooding after she'd share something new about her past, he never made her feel bad over it.

If anything, he'd constantly remind her of how strong she was, that she was safe, that she was never going back there.

"Over his dead body," was what he'd say.

And Mo'at. Well Mo'at was the first soul she'd ever told. Tsahìk was the first person to hold her while she cried as she spewed the truth. And though Xi had seen a crack in the elder's demeanor, Mo'at was strong- she showed Xi true strength.

"Thank you for telling me...you didn't have to, but I'm glad you did. Being a mother, deep down I needed to know," she confessed, tone soft as squeezed Xilä's hand again, comforting as best she could. "You deserved so much better my child," she said sadly. "Parents who loved you."

Xilä gave her a wobbly smile. "It's in the past now. And I have Sal and Jxo, they are my parents...It- it may sound horrible to say this, but...I would live through it all over again if it meant I'd end up here. I found a home. I found Neteyam," she declared.

Neytiri stared at her through shining eyes. "You know, I prayed Eywa would bless my son with someone strong. Someone with heart. Someone the people would admire and stand by. Someone who would love my 'Teyam down to the core of his being...I thank Eywa for answering my prayers. I thank Eywa for blessing us with you, Xilä."

If it wasn't for the interruption of an oblivious to the moment and overly animated Tuk, Xi knew she'd have burst into happy tears.

~

Later that night as Xi puttered around their kitchenette, she told her husband about her day. She left out the part about her and Neytiri's little heart to heart however.

"-oh, and the waterfall was amazing! We should go sometime for a date night. What do you think, handsome?"

"Sounds good, baby," her mate mumbled distractedly.

She glanced at him and snorted in amusement.

He was crouched at their workstation, frowning in concentration. Xi had put him to work, asking him to dice the root vegetables she'd layed out for dinner. The poor man was incredibly focused on the task at hand, cursing under his breath when he realized the pieces weren't cubed as she'd asked him to cut.

It wasn't usual for them to have dinner at home. Most evenings they ate with the rest of the clan or with either of their families but Neteyam had asked her to stay in tonight and she didn’t mind one bit.

He was reserved when he got home, she'd noticed but she didn't comment on it. She knew he'd eventually open up when he was ready.

When they'd finished preparing a hearty stew, they made themselves comfortable around the beautiful table Jxo had crafted. The main room felt cozy too since her husband, ever the romantic, had lit little candles all over the space.

Conversation flowed between the two as they ate. Half way through their meal however, he'd had enough distance from her.

"Come here," he said, patting his lap, pulling her into the cradle of his thighs before she could try to move herself. He kissed her ear before offering her a bite of food.

"You know I can feed myself, right?" she laughed, accepting the vegetable anyway.

"Humor me," he smiled, popping a piece of tender meat into her mouth this time before licking the juice off his fingertips.

"So, I have to tell you something," he said, after chewing on a bite of his own.

"Oh?" She turned to see him better, giving her full attention.

"There's a small team flying out to the C'ontiqu mountains tomorrow," he said, mindlessly wiping away a drop of sauce from the corner of her mouth and sucking it off his thumb. "It'll be a two day- three day trip at most, just to clear the area and mark it as a safe zone...I'll be heading the trip though."

"Oh...this is for the whole, war clean up thing, right?"

He nodded, "Yeah, the RDA left their marks all over Pandora. It's a long overdue project but it'd be worth it in the end. Better to be safe than to stumble onto an old landmine ten years from now."

She nodded. "Alright...I miss you already," she said, hugging him round the waist. And it was the truth, she felt a little pang of sadness from his news. It also occurred to her that this would be their first time apart from each other for longer than a few hours.

As if reading her mind, he lifted her chin and bent to kiss her jaw in apology. "I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart. And hey, you've got that practice with Lo'ak and his trainees tomorrow, so you'll be plenty busy and distracted until I get back."

Lo'ak had been promoted a few days ago. Since then he'd promised her a place on his team for whenever she wanted to improve her skills, citing he'd be, "a much better mentor than her skxawng husband."

"That's true," she replied. "And maybe I'll invite my parents over the next day? They haven't been over since we moved in," she pondered, already thinking of inviting D'avi and her family as well.

"See? I bet you won't even notice I'm gone."

"I'll notice," she frowned, snapping her head up to eye him.

Neteyam openly stared. Gaze roaming over her features, he observed her as if trying to memorize every inch of her face.

"What?" she asked, lips quirking upwards in amusement. She poked his cheek, waking him from his thoughts. "What?" she laughed.

"Nothing...I'm just trying to decide whether to fuck you and fill you with my come tonight and cuddle you in the morning, or to cuddle you all night then fuck you and fill you in the morning. It's a kind of a tough decision," he said in faux seriousness.

Her eyes glinted and she bit her lip to stifle her laughter. Her husband was always saying such wild things. Half the time she either blushed so furiously, she was pretty sure she turned purple all over. The other half of the time she couldn't help cracking up at his absurdity.

"Liar," she said, fighting a grin. "Tell me the truth."

His knuckles caressed her cheek. "Fine...I'll miss you, is all," he mumbled. "You're turning me soft, you know that?" he teased in mock fury, shuffling her around so she straddled his thigh, large hands palming over the skin of her waist. "How'd you manage to have me wrapped around your little finger? Don't you know I have a reputation to uphold?"

Xi scoffed. "Everyone already knows you're soft for me though. So I don't know who you're trying to foo- OW! That hurt!" she complained, swatting his hand away to rub at her stinging backside.

He had flipped up her skirt to smack her on the butt because of her sass.

"Want me to kiss it better?" he asked with a wild grin, leaning forward to nip her pouting bottom lip.

"I don't trust you near my ass, honestly," she said, gaining a loud cackle from her mate who tossed his head back with a hoot.

When they finished their meal, they decided to go out for a night stroll. Xilä loved observing the activity of the clan around this time.

Hunters, gathers, fishermen, warriors, healers, all reuniting with their families and settling in.

The smokehouses and food tents were stocked with the day's harvest and prepped for the next day.

Teenagers mingled about until the last second-until they were called home by their yelling parents.

And Xi love to hear the muffled conversations and laughter emitting from homes when they strolled pass.

It was comforting.

It was home.

"Hey, can we take the ikrans out when you get back? Journey is going to miss her boyfriend. Buddy is so much more calm around her," she mused.

He groaned in mild annoyance. "Xi, baby. They aren't boyfriend and girlfriend. Stop listening to Tuk's make believe stories...But yeah, we can do that when I get back."

She grinned triumphantly, plastering herself to his side even more as they continued walking.

"'Teyam," she said, remembering something. "Tell me the joke you didn't want your father to say the other day."

"No."

"Why not?" she grumbled.

He sighed, shooting her a fleeting side eyed stare. "Baby, you'll only be embarrassed, trust me."

"Wait...am I part of the story?" she asked in suspicion.

Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek. He contemplated whether he should say. "You remember that one night I ate you out behind the labs?"

Xi stopped walking, peeling herself away from him. "What about it?" she asked in dread.

Her husband wiped a palm down his face with groan. "I sent you away after, remember?"

She nodded, clearly remembering it was when they'd still been fooling around. Neteyam had dragged her behind a link shack, determined to have his way with her.

"Well I uh-" he cleared his throat, "I stayed behind to take care of um, my-" he gestured to his dick. "I was just sneaking back out from our spot when dad and Gwuyle caught sight of me. It was kind of obvious apparently...And even more so, when you came back."

The moment clicked for Xilä when she realized what happened after.

"Oh Great Mother," she said, hiding her face.

"Yep."

That night, Xi had returned to the side of the labs when she noticed she'd forgotten her undercloth. Jake, his second in command and Neteyam were all further away, talking by the time she'd gotten there.

They'd all shot her varying looks she was too distracted to interpret, and not wanting to interrupt them, she walked ahead and snuck back behind the trailer to search for the abandoned flimsy material that was torn off her.

Unbeknownst to her, Neteyam was the only one to feel the knowing stares from his dad and his second, embarrassment clouding his face as they so clearly put the pieces together, figuring out what he and Xi had been up too.

The worst part- the part he decided to keep to himself, was when Gwuyle smirked and said, "Brother, you've got a bit of something right here," as he pointed to the corner of his own mouth.

Neteyam flushed, hastily wiping away the remnants of Xi's slick, while Jake coked on air and averted eyes before quickly changing the topic.

"I am never looking your father in the eyes again," Xi stated in utter mortification.

He laughed in agreement. "Aww, baby. I'm sorry," he sang in awe of her cuteness. He pulled her into his arms so she could hide from the world as she cursed him.

Grinning into her hair, he received his scolding without complaint. He knew damn well it was all his fault.

~

Neteyam was wrong.

Xi did notice his absence. She missed him like crazy.

On the first night, she barely slept, not only due to his missing presence but also because she was completely alone. She was half tempted to sneak into the little room she had at her parents' place.

She hated being lonely.

Xi woke extremely early on the second day after a shitty night of sleep. Stretching out her sore muscles, she snuggled into Neteyam's side of the hammock, wishing he were there.

Even though she hadn't chosen Warrior as her path, her husband still pushed her to keep at her training when she could and Lo'ak- the liar, was brutal on her and his group of trainees yesterday.

He made them run through drill after drill with no remorse. So it was no surprise that her body was aching, tired and begging for one of her mate's delicious, full body massages.

It was still quite dark out so Xi mentally planned her day as she relaxed.

She had an early morning class in a few hours with Tsahìk who no longer referred to Xi's lessons as healer training, but Tsahìk training.

And after that, Sal and Jxo were coming by for a late lunch, so she made a quick note to get her laundry out of the way before then.

Xi also had to request some cloth from the tapestry tents since the skirt she wore to training yesterday was badly torn. She would have to sew a new one- or maybe she'd just ask her mother to do it.

Her thoughts were interrupted however when she heard a nearby twig snap. Thinking nothing of it, she closed her eyes, intending to go back to sleep for a few more hours. But then another rustle was heard from just outside her tent- too close for comfort this time.

Ears twitching, she strained to hear if the sound was just her imagining things.

It was far too early for visitors, so Xilä slung herself out of bed and headed out into the main room. She frowned when she saw a shadow grow at the tent's entrance and gasped when her father pushed the flap aside and strode in, completely uninvited.

"Nice to see you again, Xilä," T'shteyo said pleasantly, eyes greedily taking in the interior of her home- walking about as if he owned it.

Shock taking hold, Xilä stared, completely at a loss for words.

He was supposed to be gone.

Jake and a team of warriors had personally escorted her father out of the Omatikaya forest yesterday. Jxo had even told her that they'd sent him off with more than a generous amount of provisions.

Fear rippled down her spine and her jaw hung in disbelief. "What are you doing here? Please leave," she managed to get out.

"You didn't think I was actually going to leave without you, did you?" he asked, head titled as he seemed to be admiring the colorful tapestry hanging Neteyam had gotten made for her.

"How'd you think I did with my goodbye speech? I thought I did quite well- Oh come now, don't look at me like that. Don't you remember? I told you, we are going back home. About damn time too."

She gaped at him. He was crazy. He had to have been. "Father...you need to leave, I-"

"Didn't you hear me girl? Pack your shit. Let's go."

"No!" she snapped.

He looked almost stunned for a moment before he was quickly advancing on her.

She jumped at his sudden movement, scrambling backwards on shaky legs. Xi tripped, knocking over a basket of sewing materials, knee colliding with the fort of assembled cushions and blankets Tuk had made when she, Lo'ak, Kiri and Spider visited last night.

Her father made a wild grab for her but she dodged him, causing him to run into Neteyam's collection of weapons- a few of them clattering to the floor with a loud CLANG.

Xi made a run for the tent's threshold but he caught her, grabbing hold of her queue, fingers clenched tight while she cried out in pain.

Thinking fast, she rammed her head backwards, catching him in the face with force.

She made a dive for one of the fallen weapons, snagging a small dagger just in the nick of time.

"Stop!" she yelled hysterically, brandishing the knife in front of her as she backed away.

The Li'ona male had no care however, he advanced towards her, dodging her skilled swings of the weapon, trying to catch her wrist.

Xi managed to nick him twice before slicing a deep gash to his stomach.

When he was momentarily stunned by the cut she inflicted, Xi used the opportunity to stab the short blade into his shoulder, twisting it for added measure. He roared in pain and anger and Xi made another attempt to flee.

She screamed when he clamped a fistful of her hair and roughly slammed her to the ground. Xi rolled and kicked his knee with all her might, making him buckle and grunt in pain. She crawled on all fours, trying to get to the exit but it was futile.

T'shteyo grabbed her ankle and dragged her backwards, rolling her over to restrain her thrashing. She struggled against him and scratched at his face- fingers digging into his flesh as he growled and seethed.

Xi released a gut wrenching scream for help- hoping someone would possibly be up or nearby at this hour but she was just as quickly silenced.

T'shteyo smacked her cheek so hard she went mute. Seeing stars as her cheek stung bad, she whimpered.

Her father stood at his full height, pulling her up with him as his palms circled her throat, squeezing whilst he fixed her with a murderous glare.

She clawed at the backs of the hands crushing her windpipe- her fingernails drawing blood as she struggled for breath, her feet dangling off the floor.

She was no match for him.

"P- p- please-" she gurgled when he tightened his grip.

"Try that shit again, and I'll kill you," he threatened. "Answer me."

"Ye-" she made a choking noise, blinking frantically as her vision swam.

"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to pack your shit like I told you and then we are going back to Li'ona. Understood?"

He let her go and she crumbled, catching herself on center table, gasping and coughing as she cupped her bruised neck. He laughed when she tried to call for help again but was unable to. "Now you can't scream."

Xi's throat burned and frightened tears stained her cheeks.

Panicked now that she couldn't yell for help, she tried to make another dash for the exit but he fisted her hair again- pulling at the roots painfully.

Ignoring her cries of hurt, he dragged her by the braids as she tripped over her feet, leading her towards her and Neteyam's private quarters.

He shoved her onto the bed roughly and backhanded her for the trouble she caused him.

He winced, looking down at the knife still embedded in his shoulder. With a simple tug he removed it, barely blinking an eye at the blood gushing from his wound.

Tearing apart a blanket from her bed, he dabbed away the excess blood. Taking a fresh strip, he tied the cloth tightly to his injury. And then, turning away, he began rifling through their possessions, stuffing item after item into a spare sack he found.

"Pack!" he barked, making her flinch.

She was too terrified to move however.

He admired one of Neteyam's chokers before taking it too. "It will go well with my staff once Su'ko returns my title to me. After all, what I've offered him, the bastard couldn't possibly refuse," he said almost conversationally.

He smiled when he found the boots Sal had made for her and tossed them at her, catching her in the face. "For the weather," he snarled, shouldering his stolen items onto his good shoulder.

Xi stared at the pretty boots in her lap- she hadn't worn them in months.

"I- I don't want to fight Father..." her voice was hoarse, raw from the trauma he'd inflicted to her throat. "I don't- I'm not going. My life is here...please don't do this."

She was shaking, fear rooting her to the spot. She was almost mad at herself for not fighting harder, for seeming to forget everything Neteyam had taught her in their lessons- for not trying to escape at the first sight of the man before her- for forgetting what he was truly capable of.

"Well tough because I didn't ask what you wanted, did I? I need you to complete the deal anyway," he said, walking back out into the main room.

Xi blinked, mind blank as she tried to process the situation. She gingerly walked toward the main room again, holding her side with a wince. T'shteyo was busy stuffing another pack now with the food from her kitchenette- blocking her from escaping.

"What deal?" she couldn't help asking, quietly.

He merely glanced at her. "You."

"M-me?"

"Su'ko sent a message. He agreed to take you in exchange for the title," he said mindlessly, moving on to scrutinize her husband's scattered weapons, stealing a few as he spoke. "He gets a whore and I become Olo'eyktan once again. A fair fucking deal if you ask me."

Xi blanched. "What? No- I am already mated! Neteyam is my hus-"

"That love sick fool is nothing! You're lucky he's not here tonight. I was planning on killing him before we left."

At the fleeting thought of her father killing her mate, fear and nausea wrecked Xilä.

"I gave no permission for him to have you. I decide who you are given to. Me! Don't forget it. We are not forest pests. It is not our way."

"Then what was the point of us fleeing here father?!" she yelled as loudly as she could manage. "Su'ko wants us dead, and you're going to- give me- to him? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Completely enraged, her words hissed like venom, "I am Omatikaya. I am the wife of the future Olo'eyktan, daughter-in-law of Toruk Makto! I will be Tsahìk. So you will treat me with resp-"

SMACK!

Xi crumbled in a heap to the floor from the blow and T'shteyo crouched in front of her to grip her jaw hard, forcing her to look up at him.

He smiled cynically and said in a calm, almost conversational manner, "Oh, but you are nothing, darling, you are beneath me. So fuck you and your plea for respect. You disappoint me Xilä. What about our ways? What about our people? Do you not care?"

He shoved her away looking disgusted. "Of course you don't care. You are just like her. Just like your fucking mother. I should've killed the bitch when I had the chance." He spat a blob of saliva at her as he got to his feet again, striding over to his loot to continue his packing.

Xi blinked back tears as crimson liquid pooled from her mouth. It was staining the pretty floor tapestry her in-law's had gifted them. Her ribs ached from when he'd tossed her to the ground and her cheek burned, she was sure that it was split open.

The clinking of glass had her head flicking up. The items in her father's hands were foreign- obviously from the lab.

A needle and a clear vial.

"You know, these blood demons aren't as useless as I thought," he said, clumsily filling the syringe with liquid from the vial. "The fuckers kept me...what was it they called it? Oh right sedated with these funny little contraptions. Wasn't hard to steal a couple while they weren't watching," he smirked.

Xilä's stomach clenched in fear.

"Get over here," he ordered, walking towards her. "You've stalled me long enough. Let's go already. I want to get away while it's still dark out," he ordered, "and before the chaos begins."

She shook her head frantically, trying to back away but it was no use. He grabbed her throat roughly and stuck her with the point. Xi gasped at the slight prick on her neck, frowning up at him in confusion when he released her.

"What was that?" she demanded, fingertips pressing at her skin in terror.

Limbs turning heavy, she blinked rapidly as darkness began to cloud her vision. Her head swam and she felt herself begin to slip away.

"Wah id yoo doooo," she slurred.

Panicked, she eyed the exit to her tent. If she could just move- if she could just scream.

Just before Xilä's eyes rolled up into her head- just before she collapsed into the abyss, she heard the loud familiar roar of a palulukan, followed by a slew of screams.

~

Neteyam was shaken awake by a member of his team. Immediately alert as he sat up, his eyes darted around for sources of danger.

"What is it?"

"Neteyam," Tasam said gravely. "There's call waiting for you. It's the chief's personal line. Answer it, quickly."

Fumbling with the earpiece he had popped off before going to sleep, he frowned as he watched his team hurriedly packing up their makeshift camp, called ikrans flying towards them at speed.

On his feet, he pressed on the device circling his neck, "Sir, you there?"

"Neteyam...bro, it's me." It was Lo'ak...and he sounded, off.

"What in Eywa's name is going on brother? Why is my team scrambling at this hour? We're set to leave first thing in the morn-"

"Neteyam."

Neteyam stilled in trepidation. Hearing the seriousness in Lo'ak's tone filled him with dread.

"I don't know how to say this but- look you need to come home alright? It's Xilä-"

"What about Xilä?!" he shouted, ignoring the concerned glances from his team as they hustled around.

"She's gone man. She- we can't find her. We think something happened- we think it was T'shteyo." Blood rushed in Neteyam's ears, muffling the rest of his brother's words. "We have units out searching for hours now-"

"Hours?! How long has she been missing? Why the fuck are you only telling me this now!" he hissed as he grabbed his bow and bag, blowing out a loud whistle as he strode straight to the edge of the cliff they were camped out at.

"I'm sorry but we thought we'd find her by now. There was an attack and- It's like she disappeared into fucking air! There are no tracks, her ikran is still here-"

"Have all the borders been checked?" Neteyam asked, mounting Buddy the moment he landed, flying off immediately- his team following behind.

"Yes, multiple times! We have teams set up incase they-"

"Who was the last person to see her?" Neteyam demanded, cutting his brother off again as he urged his banshee to fly faster, the wind whipping his braids backwards.

"I was. We all hung out late at your place and-"

"When did you realize she was missing? How long till someone noticed?!"

"Bro will you calm d-"

"Don't you tell me to calm down, Lo'ak! My mate is missing! MISSING! She is missing while I have been here strolling through a fucking mountain when I should have been out there searching for her! But no I wasn't, know why? Because I wasn't told anything until HOURS later! So don't you dare tell me to fucking calm down!"

He ended the connection and urged Buddy to go faster, praying to Eywa to keep his wife safe and praying for sanity since he felt himself spiraling.

There was one thing for certain however. If it truly was T'shteyo behind his mate's sudden disappearance...

Neteyam knew.

Without a doubt.

He was going to kill him.

~

I would just like to apologize in advance...as a reader who absolutely detests cliff hangers herself, I'm so so sorry.

But I do hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. I can't promise when the next part will be out, so please bear with me lovelies.

And of course, once again a big special shout out and hug to my friend Tori. 💛

As always thank you for reading, please let me know your thoughts :)

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VIII.

GIF CREDIT

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Exploring the complexities of their relationship, revealing past traumas and personal struggles that deepen their connection.

WORD COUNT: ~10k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: masturbation (m), gun mention/use, substance use (weed and alcohol), mention of suicide, mention of religion, mutual pining, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: oh boy… everyone grab a snack and get cozy because we're getting into the thick of it! a lot of character exposition this chap but i promise it's fun :p also couldn't help myself from making javi and helena a thing (?) 🙈 it just felt right™ lol anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Javier leans forward, allowing his forehead to gently meet the chill of the shower tiles. Steam envelops the entire bathroom, swirling around him as the warmth of the cascading water embraces his skin.

Every fiber of his being screams against the temptation, but it’s too overwhelming to resist. His mind has been hijacked by lascivious musings since his first flicker of consciousness, and it only intensified with each passing second. The rational part of him had urged for a cold shower to extinguish the smoldering fire, but the primal instinct within demanded something more.

His cock has been throbbing with want since the moment he woke, the crimson head moistened with a droplet of precum. A deep moan escaped his lips as he reached down to ease the tension, but just as he began to feel a rush of pleasure, thoughts of her invaded his mind.

Her laughter a symphony of sensuality.

The warmth in her eyes like a glowing ember, making him feel hot with a desire he’s never experienced before.

The curve of her ass a work of art, a masterpiece that he longed to caress and gently bite down on as he worshipped her body.

And those magnificent tits of hers, god how they had looked that night at the fair, teasing and tempting him with their lusciousness in her corset.

The way she wore low-rise jeans, clinging to her hips like a second skin, had him yearning to leave bruising marks with the press of his fingertips; preferably as he took her from behind, her ass bouncing against his thighs while his dick pistoned into her.

He had halted immediately, his hand retracting swiftly from beneath the sheet as if scalded by its touch. Muttering curses under his breath, he rose with a sense of urgency, the need to cleanse both body and mind propelling him towards the shower to prepare for the day ahead.

Now he’s here, doing his worst to keep the fantasies away. Javier imagines her joining him in the shower, he can almost feel her wet body pressed against his. He envisions her sinking to her knees, wrapping those pouty pink lips around him and taking him deep into her mouth. Feeling her tight throat clenching around him as she gags and struggles to breathe, eagerly swallowing every drop of his release. The temptation is too much to bear, and he surrenders to the sensual daydream.

Fuck, in a slow and deliberate movement, Javier’s hand glides down the contours of his chiseled chest, trailing his soft abdomen until it reaches its ultimate destination. Wrapping his hand around his impressive girth, he begins to stroke himself with a gentle, yet purposeful motion. But no matter how hard he tries to push her from his mind, the thought of Paloma lingers, taunting him. He desperately tries to conjure up memories of past lovers, but none of them compare to the fiery passion that she ignites within him.

She would look so pretty pinned up against the wall, resembling a riveting piece of artwork, as he stuffed his cock deep into her. He wonders whether she could handle him all at once or if he would have to indulge in the slow pleasure of opening her up with his skilled tongue and fingers, coaxing her into a frenzy of orgasmic bliss.

She must taste heavenly, like nectar from a honeysuckle on a warm spring day. Javier’s mouth waters at the thought of exploring her so intimately, getting lost in the sensation of her warm and feeling her wetness smearing all over his lips and jaw. He could almost hear her sweet moans of pleasure as he licked and sucked on her most sensitive spots, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy.

He’d do it over and over again until she was whining that it was too much and she couldn’t take it anymore.

But she would, he’d make sure of it. He’d be determined to make her succumb to his every desire. Javier would talk her through the waves of pleasure, whispering the filthiest things in her ear and savoring the sound of her dulcet whimpers and melodic moans as she unraveled under his skilled touch.

He knows she’d make the prettiest faces, her swollen lips parting and repeating his name over and over, eyes shut close in which he’d tell her to open those pretty eyes of hers so she could watch him get her off for the umpteen time. He wouldn’t fuck her with his dick, not until he’s made it clear how generous of a lover he is.

He tenses briefly, heavy cock still in his hand as his pace moves from languish movements to quicker flicks of his wrist.

He’s so close, the familiar spark of arousal causing him to shudder as his balls clench with anticipation; images of Paloma, stripped naked and spread out before him in a myriad of sensual scenarios and positions flood his mind, driving him to groan with unbridled passion. His orgasm racks through him harshly, his release coating his fingers in a sticky sheen before vanishing down the drain.

Javier pauses to regain his composure and gather his breath. His forehead remains firmly planted against the tile, and he can’t resist lightly tapping against it as he chastises himself for giving in to the temptation of masturbating to her.

Certainly it’s not uncharted territory for him, yet following the surge of tension between them, he had ceased such indulgences altogether. He hadn’t even had the urge to pleasure himself in weeks.

Today, for some reason, was an exception; marked by the persistent stiffness of morning arousal. His thoughts were fixated on her and his willpower was unwavering.

Javier finishes his shower, emerging from the mist and he envelops his lower-half in a towel. With toothbrush in hand, he diligently tends to brushing his teeth when there’s an unexpected rap at the door. His brows furrow in mild annoyance, curious as to who was seeking him out on his only day off this week.

He lets the towel fall to the ground in his bedroom and he grabs his jeans, sliding them up his legs and foregoing any underwear. In true Javi style. He zips them up yet the button remains unfastened, a deliberate omission.

As he lazily holds his toothbrush in his mouth, he strides towards the front door. It yields to his touch, his initial annoyance gives way to a self-assured smirk, his expression a subtle blend of amusement and satisfaction.

On the weathered porch of his modest trailer, Javier is greeted by Paloma, looking gorgeous as always in a enticing sundress that’s short enough to expose her beautiful long legs. Her hair, styled in a playful half-up, half-down look, frames her face like a delicate masterpiece. 

She had hesitated, contemplating turning back when the silence lingered, a creeping doubt whispering that she might have the wrong address. Yet, just as uncertainty began to sway her resolve, Javier emerged, clad in nothing but snug denim, confirming she had indeed arrived precisely where she needed to be.

She couldn’t give a damn if he spotted her ogling him, he had opened the door flaunting his half-nakedness so shamelessly. He’s obviously just stepped out of the shower, his locks damp and tousled in all the right places, droplets of water cascading down his glistening, honeyed torso. It is the first time she’s seen him in such a bare state.

Her intuition had been spot on— he is a chiseled, sculpted hunk of a man.

Seeing him in the flesh is making her legs tremble with desire and causing a delightful dampness to form between her thighs.

Only when her gaze traces the tantalizing tuft of hair that begins at his belly and vanishes beneath the fabric of his jeans, does she feel the heat rising within her. The bulge of his cock is unmistakable, and she can’t help but gulp audibly as she takes in the impressive girth straining against his left thigh.

Her mouth waters, literally.

“Nena, ¿qué haces aquí? (Baby what are you doing here?)” His voice oozes with smugness, relishing the familiar thrill of eliciting such reactions from women. Yet to provoke such a response from her, in particular, sends his ego soaring to new heights.

“The library is having a bake sale…” She starts, eyes still fixated on his crotch before it snaps up to meet his lustful stare. “I’m goin’ door to door sellin’ my cookies to help out.” Which is true, yet when she had seen his home address on the list of places to visit— obviously she’d made sure to stop by here first.

“Is that so?” He muses, just now realizing that she’s got a small container in her hand, “Do you want to come in?”

The question hangs between them, both insatiably horny yet dead set on not crossing the sexual threshold of their friendship.

“Sure.”

With a gentlemanly gesture, he moves aside, granting her entrance. She mutters a soft thank you, gripping onto the container in her hand to keep herself together.

The aroma of his body wash, infused with hints of mint from the fresh toothpaste, envelops her senses; a potent concoction that she finds herself inexplicably drawn to.

While she’s always appreciated the fragrance of a good cologne, the impact of Javier’s scent surpasses any previous encounter, leaving her captivated in a way she’s never experienced before.

“Gonna finish gettin’ ready. Be right back.” He tells her plainly, walking off into his room and this allows her to have a second to breathe, steadying herself on the back of his couch as she gives herself a little pep talk before she hears him coming in again.

“ Santa María por favor dame the strength not to fu— sleep this man.” She whispers in a sacrilegious prayer, straightening her posture when he re-emerges.

“So… you baked?”

Javi’s sporting an old DEA t-shirt, the lettering a bit faded due to time along with those cursed tight jeans. He looks so hot, she begins to wonder if not fucking him is even worth it at all.

It is worth it. You have a date coming up with a guy your age and getting involved with Javier will just bring you more problems than peace. Plus, you like being his friend. Sleeping with him will only fuck that up. Her conscience reminds her, following after him as he leads her deeper into the small home.

“Mhm, stayed up all night putting blood, sweat and tears into these. There’s a point in between batches where I blacked out and fell asleep at the counter so I don’t claim the ones that are slightly burnt. I didn’t have the heart to toss ‘em.”

“Not only are these made out of blood, sweat and tears— but they’re burnt too. Huh...”

Now in his kitchen, the confined space amplifies their proximity. She perches on a stool beside the compact counter, her gaze fixed on him as he unlids the container.

His eyes flicker between her and the tempting contents of her baked goods. “Some bake sale you’re putting on.”

His teasing has her playfully rolling her eyes, “Not all of them. Just some of the oatmeal raisin ones.”

“Good riddance.”

“I think you purposefully hate on all the snacks I enjoy.”

“No, querida, you just have shitty taste in snacks.” Javi remarks, tempted to include a jab about her taste in men as well, yet opting to withhold that comment. For now.

“And you have shitty taste in decorations. Jeez, cowboy, are you even a real person?” She quips, critiquing the lack of character in his living space. It resembles a generic model home, seemingly plucked from a showcase and deposited in the midst of nowhere.

“Sometimes I ask myself that same question.” He shrugs, reaching for one of the more inviting looking desserts but she slaps at his hand.

“You have to pay for them first.”

“How much for the whole damn thing?” Leaning in on his elbows, he meets her halfway, their gazes locked in a silent exchange, each peering into the depths of the other’s brown eyes.

With a subtle narrowing of her own gaze, she communicates a silent message, her expression betraying a hint of playful challenge.

She gives him the price, he nods.

“Let me go get my wallet.” As he turns away and strides into the living room, her gaze remains fixed on him, engrossed by the way his shirt hugs his muscular frame and accentuates every ripple of his back. She can’t help but feel a flutter in her chest as she watches him go.

She lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling as if she’s fawning over a celebrity heartthrob.

Paloma looks around the plain space, a little disappointed that she won’t be able to decipher his character based on the decor he had.

When he returns, she can’t help but ask why it’s so empty. 

“‘Cause I don’t plan on bein’ here long enough to call this place home.” Javier responds, his words carrying a straightforward, pragmatic tone. Yet, despite their simplicity, they strike her with unexpected force, shattering the illusion she has harbored.

Why did she assume he would just… stay? Surely after helping her father out as much as he could, he’d be packing up and moving on to his next assignment.

The weight of reality tightens its grip around her heart, yet she maintains a composed facade, her outward demeanor a mask of serenity as she nods in understanding.

“Right, right. Makes sense… how long do you plan on stickin’ around?” She attempts to pose her question with an air of nonchalance, though beneath the facade, a creeping sense of dread begins to take hold as she awaits his response.

He doesn’t offer it immediately, sensing the subtle change in her demeanor, prompting him to pause and consider his words carefully. “Not sure, hermosa.” It remains simple and nebulous, as he too finds himself uncertain of the answer to that very question.

In an attempt to change the subject, he slides the money over to her, “Now can I have one?”

She exhales slowly, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, offering him a tentative smile, “Knock yourself out.”

She takes the bills from him while he casually selects one of the cookies, indulging in a bite and emitting a contented hum of approval at the flavor. “ Not bad, “ He remarks succinctly, and she can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at his underwhelming critique.

“Really? That’s all I get? ‘Not bad’? I stayed up all night making these— I think I deserve more than just ‘Not bad’.”

A chuckle escapes him at her reaction, finding her response utterly adorable. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he takes another deliberate bite of the cookie, adopting a thoughtful expression as if pondering its flavor with exaggerated seriousness. “The flavor profile is so… decadent. The richness of the chocolate is just superb—”

“Okay, well, if you’re going to be an asshole about it then never mind.” She crosses her arms against her chest with mock indignation, though a playful glint dances in her eyes; amused by their banter.

He shakes his head at her, finishing off the treat with a satisfied smirk.

“It was very delicious, muñeca. Is there anything you’re not good at?” Javier asks, genuine admiration coloring his words since she seems to excel at any task that’s presented to her.

With a snort, she retorts, “Yeah, how much time do you have?” Her mind swirls with a litany of frustrations—her failed attempts at nurturing a fucking vegetable garden, the relentless battle to suppress her feelings for him, her inability to stand up to her father.

The list goes on and on, but she keeps her struggles to herself. The version of herself that lives in Javier’s mind, the one that’s perfect and can do no wrong, one she’d like to preserve as long as possible. Especially since he wasn’t planning on residing in Seminary long-term.

Javier chuckles in response, letting his gaze soften, “You’re too tough on yourself, Paloma. You should give yourself more credit.” She can’t help but feel a hint of bashfulness creeping over her as he says this, twirling a tendril of her hair around her manicured fingertip absentmindedly, her gaze fixed on Javier with a mixture of amusement and affection.

Their playful conversation weaves through the air like a melody, punctuated by laughter and laced with a subtle undercurrent of flirtation, creating an atmosphere that feels as light and comforting as a summer breeze.

“Ever held a gun before?” He asks, noticing how her gaze had trailed over to where his pistol and badge sat on the opposite side of the counter. 

Paloma’s eyes had only lingered on the objects because she remembered how sexy he’d looked last Sunday while apprehending Mr. Thorton.

She has to keep herself from squeezing her thighs together to release some of the pressure of her arousal as she recalls it. Her lack of underwear having some of her wetness smear against her inner thighs.

At his question, though, a very mischievous idea suddenly pops into her head.

“Nope. Daddy has always been paranoid about all that.” It’s a lie that slips effortlessly from her lips, despite the fact that her father had been very serious about gun safety and had taught her how to shoot at a young age. In fact, she’s quite capable of disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling a weapon with precision.

But Javier doesn’t need to know this. Not yet, at least.

“Then I guess I shouldn’t offer to teach you a thing or two.”

Paloma snorts, “Oh c’mon. I’m a grown woman livin’ in an open carry state. I should learn how to use one… all things considered too…” She alludes to the homicide cases and the current missing girl.

Javier wets his lower lip, contemplating his next move. She makes a good point, it wouldn’t hurt for her to know her way around the weapon and he’s surprised that her father hasn’t at least given her a few pointers with how paranoid he is that something is going to happen to her. 

Still, he doesn’t want to overstep the elder man… but really, he’s already overstepped when he came all over his hand earlier while thinking of fucking the sherrif’s daughter.

She’s also proactively requesting for him to teach her, showing her own determination and initiative in the matter.

“Fine. I’ll meet you in the backyard.” He acquiesces, pushing himself away from the counter. He snags one more cookie from the container before disappearing down the hallway.

Her eyes sparkle with excitement as his agreement sinks in, eager to see his reaction when she unveils her little secret to him. She springs off the stool, sliding open the glass door leading to the backyard. Shielding her face from the intense sunlight, she steps outside, ready to embark on this unexpected activity with Javier.

From the back porch, Paloma observes him as he arranges an assortment of targets, using miscellaneous items he had gathered from around his home: empty beer bottles, a vase that had long irked him with its presence, and other odds and ends.

Once he finishes, they stand side by side, facing the trunk of his police cruiser, which he had pulled around to park in the backyard. The trunk is open, revealing the duffle bag of firearms issued to every officer. Javier gestures for Paloma to make her selection, his expression a mixture of anticipation and encouragement.

“Hm,” Paloma muses, tapping her chin as if in deep contemplation before pointing to the double-barrel shotgun.

Javier is slightly taken aback by her choice, but he swiftly retrieves the shotgun from the bag, along with a handful of shells. “ This one’s pretty heavy. Sure you can handle it, palomita?” he asks, a condescending tone lacing his words.

“Trust me, I can handle it.” she responds confidently, her tone carrying a subtle salacious edge. With a sweet smile directed at Javier, she turns and strides confidently towards the shooting area he had prepared.

He stills, muttering how fucked he is before following after her.

“The kickback is stronger with these. You’ll need to get used to the weight and recoil.”

His movements with the gun are graceful and assured. Her breath hitches as she watches in awe, her lips parting slightly as she bites down on the plump flesh, trying to contain the moan that threatens to escape.

Javier’s hands look massive as they wrap around the gun, and she can’t help but imagine those same hands wrapped around her body, exploring every inch with the same precision and mastery. The way he breaks the shotgun open and loads the shells, his fingers flexing and tensing with each movement has heat rising within her, aching for his touch. 

It’s not just the scorching southern temperature that has her feeling hot all over, but the raw, primal desire that he ignites within her with just a simple gesture.

He possesses an effortless confidence that Paloma finds undeniably alluring. As he adjusts his aviator sunglasses and gestures towards the items scattered across the horizon, his gravelly voice resonates with authority and charm.

“Take a deep breath in, then slowly exhale. Point at the target, squeeze the trigger and shoot. Remember, the kickback can be pretty intense so brace yourself for that.”

He looks so handsome following his own instructions, easily shooting down that hideous vase and a beer bottle, causing them to shatter in pieces. The shots echoes out into the vast area, a few birds flying by.

Javier looks over at her, reloading the shotgun before handing it to her carefully, the safety switched on. “Your turn, nena.”

Paloma, with her piercing gaze and a mischievous smile playing on her lips, feigns innocence as she takes the gun from him. Though she is well-versed in handling firearms, she willingly allows Javier to guide her, relishing the opportunity to draw closer to him under the guise of naivety.

She purposefully handles it oddly which has him pressing flush against her back as he guides her hands into the right position. It takes everything in her not to lean back against him, the breeze that passes by paired with his proximity sends a shiver down her spine, the scent of gunpowder mingling with his rugged masculinity and cologne has her damn near whimpering; but she’s able to suppress the noise before it slips up her throat.

“Remember: Aim, squeeze and shoot.” He nudges her leg apart slightly with his knee, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly at the gesture, “And keep yourself grounded. You’re not stupid, so handle this thing carefully. Don’t want you blowing off half of that pretty face.” 

He takes a few steps back, partially to watch her shoot but also because he felt his cock hardening when he pressed himself against her. Feeling the softness of her ass against his crotch was derailing, and it didn’t help that the flimsy fabric of her sundress is thin so he could feel that she wasn’t wearing any fucking panties. He digs into his back pocket to retrieve his pack of smokes, in desperate need of one.

Under Javier’s watchful eye, Paloma raises the shotgun, feeling the weight of it in her hands as she aims at the first target. She switches the safety off, following his instructions (ones she was already aware of) and she keeps the act up, studying the items before her.

After a few moments of doing nothing, Javier speaks up.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to shoot?”

His words spur her into action, a determined glint in her eyes as she readies herself to take aim at the remaining bottles.

But just as she is about to pull the trigger, a sudden flurry of birds burst into the sky, their wings slicing through the air with graceful precision. A smirk dances upon her lips as she swiftly adjusts her stance, the shotgun now pointed skyward with a fluid motion that bespoke her expertise.

In a seamless display of skill and confidence, she tracks the path of the birds with unwavering focus, her finger poised on the trigger. With a steady breath, she squeezes it, unleashing a resounding crack then another that echo across the open expanse. Two birds plummet from the sky in a graceful arc, their feathers ruffling in the wind as they spiraled towards the earth.

Javier watches in awe, unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips, his admiration for her prowess evident in the curve of his growing smile. In that moment, he can’t help but feel a newfound sense of admiration for her.

She wasn’t eager to learn; she was already a master of the fucking craft.

And as she lowers the shotgun, her eyes sparkling with triumph, Javier knows that he has found a kindred spirit in this enamoring woman named Paloma.

He realizes he’s been played a fool, yet his amusement outweighs any sense of annoyance. There is something oddly endearing about the way she had outsmarted him, a playful gleam in her eye that he can’t help but admire.

Her laughter rings out like music in the warm morning air.

“Beginner’s luck, huh?” He says as she beams back at him, pride evident in every line of her expression.

“Daddy’s been on the force since before I was born.”  She explains, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. “‘Course he taught me, his only child, how to shoot.” Turning to face him fully, she deftly flicks the safety on the firearm before extending it back to him with practiced ease.

“And we used to go duck huntin’ all the time,” She continues, her words carrying the weight of memories shared with her father. “S’how I got good at shootin’ moving targets. You ever been?” Her question hangs in the air, accompanied by a curious tilt of her head.

Javier feels a sense of déjà vu wash over him at her words, a fleeting flashback to that day outside La Catedral with Steve playing out in his mind vividly.

No I have not been duck hunting…. You… fucking hillbilly.

He won’t call her that, though.

“Nope, never been.”

“We should go one day. Y’know, if you stick around long enough.”

Javier senses that their earlier conversation about his impending departure from town did not sit well with her. A small, narcissistic part of him takes pleasure in the knowledge that she will miss him when he eventually leaves.

Their flirtatious banter fills the air like the crack of gunfire, each moment building upon the next as they continue to spend the rest of the morning in each other’s company— shooting at empty beer bottles to pass the time. With each shot fired and each shared smile, the connection between Javier and Paloma deepens, their playful teasing masking a burgeoning attraction that neither could deny. 

As the sun reaches its high point, harshly casting its rays across the landscape, they find themselves lost in each other, the shotgun forgotten as they head inside to escape the merciless Seminary summer heat.

“Why do you keep your gun against your lower back?” Paloma asks, sitting on top of the kitchen counter as Javier pours both of them a glass of water.

“Outta habit. Feels more comfortable and secure back there.” He hands her the glass and she thanks him softly, taking a large gulp.

He finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from her, his own glass in his hand as he observes her. She tilts her head back ever so slightly, the sun-kissed sheen of sweat adding a ravishing glow to her skin after spending all morning outside.

As Javier’s gaze falls upon Paloma’s exposed forearms, his heart sinks at the sight of the bruises marring her delicate skin. The memory of the chaotic scene at the church floods back—the ramblings of Mr. Thorton, consumed by grief and intoxicated by sorrow, as he roughly seized Paloma in his anguish. The bruises now serve as a reminder of that harrowing encounter, igniting a protectiveness within Javier.

“I didn’t know he grabbed onto you so harshly.” While Javi is sympathetic towards the drunken man considering the unfortunate circumstances— he shouldn’t have put his hands on her the way that he did.

Paloma’s fingers drift absently towards the bruised area, her movements gentle as she brushes over it, her shoulders lifting in a subtle shrug. “It’s nothin’ compared to what they’re going through,” She murmurs softly, her voice trailing off with a tinge of melancholy. The memory of the man’s shattered demeanor weighs on her, reminding her of the profound sadness that had consumed him that day.

Despite the drunken ramblings, the accusatory tone, and the way he laid blame on the entire town for failing his daughter; she didn’t harbor any resentment towards him for his outburst.

While she acknowledges that aggressively approaching her was not the wisest choice, she understands that it was a momentary lapse fueled by grief and alcohol.

Her father had sternly lectured her when she revealed her lack of animosity towards Mr. Thorton and her willingness to forgive him despite his lack of apology. Romeo had been infuriated by his daughter’s empathy, unable to comprehend her capacity for forgiveness in the face of such an incident.

“Still, he was out of line for even—”

“He was drunk out of his mind, Javier. His daughter was brutally murdered and mutilated. Do you all just expect him and his wife to snap back to normal after a few weeks?” Paloma’s words carry an edge, her tone unintentionally sharp, but Javier can see the underlying pain in her eyes.

His own demeanor relaxes slightly, reeling as he realizes she’s not aiming her frustration at him specifically. His gaze reflects understanding rather than irritation as he silently reassures her that he had no intention of pissing her off.

“A death like that breaks families. It’s happening to the Thortons right before our very eyes.” She reflects after a pause, briefly considering the idea of confiding in Javier about her own experiences with loss, particularly concerning her mother.

She recalls the turbulent times following her mother’s death, the strain it placed on her relationship with her father, and the wounds it left in their family dynamic.

Fortunately, Romeo had managed to pull himself (somewhat) together before things escalated too far between them.

However, discussing her mother remains a sensitive topic, one that Paloma avoids whenever possible. Her suicide was a painful and perplexing event, leaving Paloma grappling with unanswered questions and a sense of profound loss.

As a confused and grief-stricken teenager, she had immersed herself in psychology texts, searching for understanding and consolation on the topic of depression and suicide, but finding nothing that truly resonated with her mother’s peculiar situation. 

She blinks, dispelling her thoughts, realizing she has no intention of burdening Javier—or anyone else, for that matter—with her baggage. The memory of her last attempt to confide in someone, the priest at church, surfaces, and she suppresses a sigh of frustration. His well-meaning yet ultimately dismissive response, a canned platitude about finding solace in God, had left her feeling even more isolated in her grief.

It honestly pissed her off.

“That’s just how it is sometimes, querida. A shitty fucking side effect to the whole thing. We can’t do anything about it.”

There’s a depth to her that she keeps carefully hidden, yet Javier can discern it with ease. It manifests in the subtle shifts of her body language, the fleeting emptiness that briefly clouds her gaze, and the sudden defensiveness she displayed when discussing the situation.

Despite her attempts to conceal it, her words are laced with emotion, carrying a weight of sentiment and understanding that hints at the complexities that lurk.

There’s a story hidden behind that guarded stare, waiting to be unveiled.

He won’t grant himself the selfish desire to be the one to unveil it. He doesn’t feel worthy of being the person Paloma entrusts with her deepest vulnerabilities, believing he doesn’t deserve such intimacy from her.

Javier’s pragmatic nature is deeply ingrained, a fundamental aspect of his character that permeates every aspect of his life. It’s a quality that serves him well in his profession, enabling him to approach his duties with efficiency and precision.

Yet, this same pragmatism often proves to be a barrier when it comes to offering comfort to others. He struggles to connect on an emotional level, his rational mind grappling with the intricacy of human emotions in a way that feels foreign to him.

While he excels in navigating practicalities, he finds himself struggling when faced with the nuances of empathy and compassion.

It’s not that Javier is devoid of either emotions; rather, he has a hard time navigating them. He possesses a depth of feeling, but lacks the finesse in managing and expressing them.

A contemplative silence settles between them, each absorbed in their own internal musings.

She feels his stare but she doesn’t waver, instead changing the subject,“I’m sure you’ve heard about Jonah Abbott’s birthday party?” 

Ah, Jonah Abbott, the remarkably young Mayor of Seminary, Texas. Descending from a lineage steeped in politics and law, his ascension to office undoubtedly owes much to familial connections and the influence of nepotism.

Javier’s disdain for him is palpable, despite only encountering the man once. Jonah had stormed into the station, insisting that everyone attend his birthday celebration. His subsequent demand for case updates and entitled behavior when things didn’t align with his expectations had left a sour taste in Javier’s mouth, solidifying his opinion of him as nothing more than an insufferable individual.

Javi had intended to skip out on the party altogether, but after Romeo practically demanded his presence there, he quickly realized that dodging the event was simply not an option.

“Unfortunately I have,” He says sardonically, finishing off his water, “Though I’d rather be anywhere else. Big parties have never been my thing, especially when the night is centered on schmoozing with asshole politicians.”

“Asshole politicians….” She smirks at him, “So you’ve met him? He’s… a piece of work. I have no idea why or how daddy tolerates him.”

Paloma doesn’t mention the many advances the man has made on her and how she’s had to politely decline him each time. He wasn’t unattractive, he held some kind of Kennedy-esque handsomeness but man was he ignorant and flashy as all hell.

His opulent mansion and foreign cars speak volumes about his personal wealth, yet she can’t help but wish he would invest as much in supporting his town as he does in his own pursuits. 

“I’ve had to deal with men like that too many times over the years. Just when you think they can’t get any worse— they do. It’s like they outdo themselves. Fuckin’ annoying pricks. They only get worse with age, too.” 

Javier’s verbal outpouring inadvertently provides Paloma with an opportunity—a chance to delve deeper into his past experiences, particularly his days with the DEA. Sensing an opening, she seizes the moment to probe for insights into his former life, hoping to gain a better understanding of the man behind the badge.

“Who’s the worst one you’ve met?”

The first name that pops into his mind is Bill Stechner. “CIA asshole back in Colombia. But you could really trade in any fucker from either government and it’d all be one in the same. They’re all contenders for worst human beings on the fuckin’ planet.”

Her brows raise in interest, “It still amazes me how you’ve literally worked such an important and uppity job. How the fuck did you end up here, cowboy?” It’s a rhetorical question but it still has him sucking in a breath.

As always, Paloma’s keen observance doesn’t go unnoticed. The spark of curiosity ignites within her, kindling a desire to unravel the layers of Javier’s enigmatic persona. Yet, she exercises caution, mindful not to overstep boundaries or pry too deeply into his guarded past.

She sets down her empty glass, hopping off the counter and smoothing her dress down. “I guess I should get outta your hair and head back into town. I had a lotta fun this mornin’. Thank you for supportin’ the library… and for teachin’ me how to shoot.” She remarks playfully with a wink as he walks her to the door.

“Well, you were a very easy student. A natural.” 

Leaning casually against the door frame, Javier’s gaze remains fixed on Paloma as she retreats backward towards her car. Despite the distance between them, their eyes never waver, locked in a silent exchange of unspoken sentiments.

“I’ll see you around.”

Javier’s gaze drifts idly over the scattered papers before him, the weight of boredom evident in the blank stare he casts upon them.

With a heavy sigh, he resigns himself to the monotony of the graveyard shift, flanked by two younger deputies who share his weary disposition. The quaint confines of the department offer little respite from the tedium, with the only source of distraction being a TV cart positioned at the center of the room, broadcasting an old Astros vs. Mets baseball game.

As the flickering images dance across the screen, Javier’s mind wanders, yearning for something—anything—to break the dullness of the night.

He’d lost interest in the game fairly quickly, turning his focus to the mound of paperwork that has steadily amassed on his desk over the past few days.

However, even the prospect of tackling the administrative tasks failed to hold his interest for long, leaving him adrift in a sea of ennui.

As he rubs at his tired eyes, preparing to rise and seek respite in a smoke break outside, the shrill ring of the phone slices through the quiet of the room. His movements freeze, instinctively drawn to answer the call that interrupts his escape.

“Seminary Sheriff’s Department.”

“Those damn kids are on my property again!”

Javier has to pull the receiver from his ear slightly as the loud yet croaky voice of Arthur Reynolds reverberates through the line.

The elderly man boasts a lineage that traces back to one of the town’s founding families. As a result, he holds vast swathes of land across the area, including a picturesque field of sunflowers that has become a local attraction.

The vibrant blooms draw the attention of passersby, who often linger to admire their beauty. However, Reynolds views their presence as an intrusion, and he isn’t shy about expressing his discontent.

Constantly vigilant, he frequently calls upon the authorities to address the perceived trespassers. Due to his advanced age rendering him incapable of intimidating others into compliance, it falls upon individuals like Javier to enforce Reynolds’ will, ensuring that his domain remains undisturbed.

“Can you be a little more specific, sir.” Javi says in a monotone voice

“How specific I gotta be? S’a group of them drinkin’ and smokin’ around a campfire. Gonna light my goddamn field ablaze. You besta come shut it down and arrest these punks before I go down there myself and cause a ruckus.”

That’s the last thing Javier needs, for the town to burn down on his watch. He begrudgingly acknowledges the validity of the old man’s complaints, recognizing that there is merit to Reynolds’ concerns for once.

“No need for that, an officer will be there soon.” As the phone call concludes, Javier briefly considers dispatching the deputies to handle the situation, viewing it as an opportunity for them to gain some experience.

However, a sense of caution tugs at him, wary of the potential risks involved in sending inexperienced officers into the field late at night. Ultimately, he opts to take matters into his own hands in case anything goes awry.

Donning his department-issued bomber jacket and ensuring his utility belt is fully equipped, Javier swiftly heads for the door. With a sense of purpose, he offers a brief explanation for his departure to the two deputies engrossed in the baseball game before stepping out into the night.

Not much after does Javier find himself navigating the winding dirt path that cuts through the heart of the sunflower field. Towering stalks of golden blooms loom on either side, casting elongated shadows in the dim light of the moon. With a flick of a switch, he illuminates the headlights of the cruiser, their beams slicing through the darkness ahead. The soft glow of a distant bonfire comes into view, beckoning him forward as he makes his way towards the source of the disturbance.

As the piercing lights of the cruiser illuminate the scene, a sense of urgency grips the group of young adults, prompting them to scatter in all directions like startled deer fleeing from a predator.

Amidst the chaos, Paloma lies sprawled on the ground on her back, her gaze fixed upon the expanse of the dark sky overhead, where the full moon casts its radiant glow upon the night.

She’d successfully snuck out of her house and into old man Reynolds’s sunflower field. August assured her they were just eight feet shy of his property line—technically absolving them of any trespassing allegations.

The appeal of an impromptu bonfire, fueled by August’s persuasive phone call the night before, proved irresistible to Paloma. It didn’t take much convincing to coax her into joining the group, the thrill of rebellion emboldening her for the night that lay ahead.

Paloma found herself indulging in more alcohol than she is accustomed to, her inhibitions loosened by the camaraderie of her friends. Peer pressure led her to experiment further, as she hesitantly joined August, Sloane, and Gabriel in sharing a joint. The unfamiliar sensation of the smoke tickled her throat, triggering a fit of coughing that betrayed her novice status in the realm of smoking weed.

“Easy, little dove.” August’s voice was gentle, his hand tracing soothing circles on Paloma’s back as she recovered from her coughing fit. With patience and care, he guided her through the process, demonstrating the proper technique for smoking. His gaze lingered on her lips as she tentatively wrapped them around the filtered tip, his attention a mixture of guidance and something more difficult to discern.

The combined effects of alcohol and weed have her feeling as if she were floating outside of her own body, disconnected from the reality unfolding around her. Time blurred and details became hazy as the evening wore on. Before she knew it, August and a select few had departed, leaving her to her own devices— a directive she barely recalls amidst her altered state.

“We’ll be back later. You just stay put and enjoy yourself.” August’s voice echoed in her mind as she found herself lost in a swirl of sensations. 

The alcohol infused her with a sense of giddiness and warmth, while the weed enveloped her in a cloud of lightness and euphoria.

The mention of cops jolt Paloma out of her intoxicated stupor, sending a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. With a sudden burst of urgency, she propels herself into a seated position, cursing under her breath as she struggles to gain her footing. Every movement feels sluggish and disjointed, as if she were wading through molasses in her attempt to confront whatever impending threat was approaching.

Had her father discovered her absence, realizing she had slipped out into the night and now found herself high as a kite?

Amidst the flurry of activity, someone had hastily extinguished the crackling flames of the bonfire, leaving her disoriented and stumbling in the darkness. With nothing but the ethereal glow of the moonlight to guide her, she found herself left in the eerie stillness of the night as she navigates the shadowy landscape.

Javier steps out of his cruiser, the beam of his flashlight cutting through the darkness as he surveys the deserted scene. The group had scattered like leaves in the wind, leaving him with an empty field and a sinking sense of slight frustration.

With a resigned sigh, he turns to head back to his vehicle, his mind already drifting towards the paperwork awaiting him back at the station.

But then, a faint sound catches his attention— a soft shuffling emanating from the darkness nearby. Instinctively, he whirls around, directing the beam of his flashlight towards the source of the noise.

His eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of Paloma, tentatively emerging from the sea of sunflowers with her hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice cuts through the night, tinged with concern and exasperation as he surveys her unsteady form. His gaze narrows as he takes in her swaying movements, a frown etching across his features. “Are you drunk?”

Her relief is palpable at the sight of Javier standing before her, his presence a welcome reprieve from the uncertainty that had gripped her moments earlier. She offers him a sheepish smile, grateful for his familiar face and not that of one of the jackass deputies.

“Er... just a little,”  She admits with a giggle, her hands lowering slowly as she squints against the harsh beam of his flashlight. “Could you, like, point that thing elsewhere? M’gonna go blind.” Her words are punctuated by a hiccup, her steps unsteady as she inches closer to him.

As she draws near, Javier catches a distinct scent in the air— the familiar aroma of smoke from the bonfire mixed with something altogether less innocent.

It’s a scent he knows all too well from his days as a DEA agent, the unmistakable odor of marijuana lingering on her. With a sinking feeling, he takes in the bloodshot, droopy eyes of the girl before him, irritation welling within him.

“Are you high, too?” He knows all too well the allure of drugs, having spent years chasing down those who peddled them on the streets. Yet, seeing her caught up in such activities strikes a chord within him, stirring up a complex mix of emotions that he struggles to reconcile.

“Maybe,” she drawls the word out, her voice laced with a playful edge. “Why? Are you a narc? Oh, wait... you are. A certified and official narc.” Her words are punctuated by another bout of giggles and hiccups, the sound grating on Javier’s nerves. It’s a familiar insult, one that cuts a little too close to home given August had called him the same thing not too long ago.

“Who were you out here with?” Javier demands, his frustration evident as he flicks off the flashlight, plunging them into darkness save for the soft glow of the moon overhead and the headlights of his car.

“Some friends,” Paloma replies with a careless shrug, her tone nonchalant. “Come on, officer, why does it matter? We were just having fun… and technically we’re eight feet from the property line so we weren’t trespassing.”

Some friends. The implication hangs heavy in the air, a not-so-subtle reminder of her recent association with August and his clique. A storm of conflicting emotions that threatens to cloud his judgment as he struggles to maintain his composure in the face of her nonchalant demeanor.

“Why does it matter?” He scoffs, “Public intoxication. Illicit drug use. Disturbance of the public peace or the peace of others. I can keep going.” His jaw clenches tightly, his words laden with the weight of authority as he lists off a litany of potential charges. Many of them are familiar to him, recurring offenses he’s seen in the files of the company she’s recently decided to keep.

She rolls her eyes dismissively, her confidence undeterred by his stern demeanor. “Oh please. We both know you’re not really going to bring me in for any of that.” she retorts, her voice dripping with of sarcasm and self-assurance.

The idea of Javier restraining her sends a thrill coursing through her veins. The image of his body pressed against hers, the sensation of the cold metal restraints encircling her wrists— it’s all too tantalizing to resist. Yet, even in her intoxicated state, a small voice of reason whispers in the back of her mind, urging her to exercise caution.

A fleeting impulse tugs at her to reach out and touch him, to feel the solid warmth of his chest beneath her fingertips. But a sobering sense of restraint holds her back, the knowledge that such a gesture would only complicate an already precarious situation.

“I’m not entertaining this. Get in the car, I’m taking you home,” He asserts, his tone firm as he turns away from Paloma, intent on ending the conversation then and there. But before he can take a single step, her hand shoots out to grasp at his elbow, her acrylic nails digging into the fabric of his bomber jacket.

“Wait, not I can’t go home yet. Not like this,” Paloma pleads, her voice tinged with desperation as she realizes the gravity of her situation. Though she’s sobered up somewhat since Javier’s arrival, the thought of sneaking back into her house in her current inebriated state fills her with dread.

His gaze flickers down to where she’s holding onto him, his expression unreadable as he weighs his options. “Shoulda thought about that before you came out here and fucked yourself up.”

Feeling a surge of annoyance bubbling up within her, she retracts her grasp, her fists clenching at her sides as she meets Javier’s gaze with steely determination. “Okay, fine. Whatever— I’ll just wait for August to come back and he’ll take me home,” she declares with defiance.

The mention of his name sparks an unexpected surge of possessiveness and jealousy within Javier, if he tightens his jaw any further; he might dislocate it. Though he tries to mask his emotions, the tension in his stance betrays his inner turmoil, leaving her to wonder what thoughts are swirling behind his unreadable facade.

“That’ll be worse for you in the off chance that you get caught. Now get in the car so we can get you some food and sober you up. I’m taking you home.” Javier asserts, his tone brooking no argument as he gestures towards the passenger seat of the still-running police cruiser.

He watches intently as she hesitates for a moment before reluctantly stomping her way around the car and sliding into the seat.

The ride into town is filled with an uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of static emanating from the police radio as Javier relays updates to the officers back at the station. She sits with her arms crossed defiantly, her body angled away from him as she stares out of the window, lost in her own high thoughts.

Pulling into the diner parking lot, Javier instructs her to stay put as he exits the vehicle and disappears inside the restaurant. He quickly places an order for a simple meal, then returns with a takeaway bag in hand, his expression unreadable as he hands it to her through the open window.

Now parked at the further end of the driveway, the silhouette of the Leighton family home looms in the distance.

“Thanks for the food..” she murmurs gratefully as they lean against the closed trunk of the police cruiser, the aroma of the meal enticing her high senses as she quite literally begins to devour its contents.

Javier remains silent, allowing the tension from earlier to gradually dissipate as they stand together in the quiet stillness of the night. The only sounds that fill the air are the soft chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Feeling more like herself now, she greedily slurps the remaining contents of her root beer through the straw before setting it aside. She waits for a moment, studying Javier’s side profile before offering an apology.

“I shouldn’t have gotten such an attitude with you back there. You were just doing your job... and if it makes you feel any better, this is the first time I’ve done anything like this.” She confesses, her tone tinged with sincerity.

He runs his knuckles along his jaw, briefly glancing over at her and meeting her gaze. He can’t help but soften at her words, releasing some of the tension that had been coiled within him.

“Just looking out for you. You never know what kind of mess you’ll get into with a crowd like that,” he admits, his tone gentle yet firm. 

“A crowd like that?” She repeats, brows furrowing slightly and feeling a twinge of offense on behalf of August and the others.

“Let’s not be daft, querida. Your friends like trouble— what lost twenty-something-year old doesn’t? I’m not trying to piss you off, I’m just being realistic.”

She just hums in acknowledgement, choosing to focus on the remaining fry in her container to avoid further confrontation.

“You ever been in love, cowboy?” Paloma’s sudden question feels like a punch in the gut, catching him off guard.

He stumbles over his words, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in conversation. “I— sorry, how did we go from that,” he gestures vaguely to their previous discussion, “to this?”

“By changing the subject. I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” she replies nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders as she crumples up her napkin and tosses all her trash into the takeaway bag.

Javier pokes his tongue against his cheek, contemplating her question for a moment before reaching for the cigarettes in the inside pocket of his jacket. What the hell, he’ll indulge her. “Yes... no... I don’t know,” he finally answers, lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag.

“All of the above?” She tilts her head, adjusting her denim mini skirt and straightening her cropped camisole.

Javier inhales deeply before continuing. “Before I left for Colombia, I was set to get married.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, and she leans in closer, eager for more details. “What happened?” she asks, her curiosity palpable as she watches him intently.

The Javier Peña, known for his charismatic ways and romantic escapades, suddenly bound to one woman in the most profound display of commitment. Oh, she’s intrigued beyond measure.

“Couldn’t go through with it. I thought I loved her, Lorraine, but then I realized that I just loved the idea of her. Couldn’t see myself spending the rest of my life at her side so I spared her all the bullshit and drama and just left…” He cringes slightly, flicking off some ash. “Left her at the altar the day of the wedding. Drove straight past the chapel and to the airport. Flew to Quantico for training and a few months later I was in Colombia.”

She listens intently, her heart aching with empathy for the man who stands before her, baring his soul in a rare moment of vulnerability.

His story hangs heavy in the air. The ember of his cigarette glows in the darkness, casting shadows across his face as he speaks.

She recalls her own brush with heartbreak, the sting of abandonment still fresh in her memory. The parallels between their experiences are both eerie and comforting.

“So you were her George,” She murmurs, her voice soft with understanding.

Javier nods, his expression a mix of regret and resignation. “Yeah. I guess. When you told me what you had gone through that night, I felt so bad. I still do. Me and Lorraine have talked things out since. She’s actually married now. Has two kids and a loving husband. He was able to give her all the things I knew I couldn’t.”

“It’s funny how life works out,” she muses, her voice carrying a hint of empathy. “You both found what you needed in the end, I suppose.”

He nods, exhaling a cloud of smoke that dissipates into the night air. “Yeah, I guess so.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, the weight of the shared revelations hanging between them. It’s moments like these that reveal the depth of their connection, beyond the surface banter and flirtation.

“And after Lorraine? Was there anyone else you fell for? A lover in Colombia?”

Her name echoes in his mind like a haunting melody, each syllable laced with memories of their tangled past. Helena. Their relationship had begun as nothing more than a transaction, a simple exchange of information for physical intimacy. But as time passed, their bond deepened, evolving into something he never expected.

Helena had been different from the others, a beacon of light in the darkness of his days in Colombia. She listened to him, truly listened, offering comfort and understanding when the weight of his job threatened to crush him. In her arms, he found refuge from the storm raging within him, a sanctuary where he could lay bare his soul without fear of judgment.

But their idyllic bubble was shattered by the harsh realities of their world. The fallout from the Gacha debacle had left Helena broken and vulnerable, a stark reminder of the dangers they faced every day. Javier wrestled with his feelings for her, torn between his duty and his desire to protect her. Yet, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shield her from the horrors that awaited her.

As he recalls their tumultuous journey together, Javier is plagued by a sense of guilt and regret. He had failed her, failed to keep her safe from the darkness that had consumed the country. And now, her name serves as a painful reminder of his shortcomings, haunting him like a ghost from his past.

“No. Just a long string of meaningless sex. Didn’t have the time or energy to date anyone. The job was too demanding for it.”

She reaches out tentatively, resting a hand on his arm. “Well… Thanks for sharing with me. I know how difficult it can be to open up like that,” She says softly, flashing him a small smile.

He meets her gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Of course, hermosa.”

As she straightens up from leaning against his cruiser, a soft sigh escapes her lips, carrying with it a hint of resignation. “I think I’m ready to sneak back in now.”

He nods in acknowledgment as he takes a final drag of his cigarette. Exhaling a plume of smoke, he crushes the butt under the sole of his boot. “Right. We’ll keep this night between the two of us, yeah?”

She responds with a nod, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. She gets back in the car, ready to get into her bed.

He starts the engine, the soft purr of the car’s motor blending with the nocturnal symphony of crickets and cicadas. As they roll down the driveway, he keeps the lights off, wary of getting caught.

It’s not the first time he’s had to sneak a girl back home.

Just as they near the end of the driveway, she curses softly, a sudden realization dawning upon her. Slapping her palm against her forehead, she lets out an exasperated sigh, prompting Javier to glance at her quizzically.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need the ladder to get back upstairs. The lattice fence broke when I snuck out earlier.” She completely forgot about the mishap, it had almost woken her father up.

“Do you need help getting it?”

“…Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

So they sneak around to the backyard, the metallic finish of the elongated ladder gleaming beneath the growing grass that surrounds it. It reminds Paloma that she needs to mow the lawn soon.

As she bends down to grab it, she feels a sudden, unexpected sensation slithering against her leg. Panic rises within her, her muscles tensing in preparation to let out a guttural scream, but before any sound can escape her lips— a strong hand clamps over her mouth, muffling any noise.

She freezes, heart pounding in her chest, as she glances wide-eyed at Javier.

“It’s just a garter snake, nena, it’s not going to hurt you.”

A warm glow then spills from inside the house, casting long shadows across the backyard.

Paloma’s heart leaps into her throat, her pulse quickening as she envisions her father stepping out onto the porch, his stern gaze piercing through the darkness.

With a sense of urgency, Javier gently pulls her back into the comforting embrace of the shadows, his touch a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos of their clandestine escapade.

Their bodies press close together as they hold their breath, hoping to remain unseen.

Her lips are still against his palm while his other hand has a firm hold on her hip. His thumb instinctively traces slow, soothing circles against her skin. It fires up every nerve of her body.

After what seems like an eternity, a soft, distant sound of a flush is heard, followed by a click as the light flickers off.

In unison, they both release the tension they had been holding, his hand gently sliding away from her face as she exhales deeply.

Neither of them attempt to move for a split second, and it’s not until she pulls away that he’s brought back down to Earth.

“Fuck— that was close.”

An electric tension crackles between them, infusing every movement with a heady rush of anticipation. Wordlessly, they resume their task, the air thick with both desire and apprehension.

Each touch, each shared glance teeters on the precipice of control.

It’s a delicate dance, teeming with an unspoken longing that threatens to overflow, begging to be unleashed in the quiet intimacy of the night.

Once Javier is sure that the ladder is steady enough for her to climb, he takes a step back to make room for her.

“Alright, princesa, up the tower you go.”

She doesn’t say anything, her gaze remains fixed on him, a silent exchange of emotions passing between them before she begins her ascent up the ladder.

She makes it up a few steps before she stops and turns to face him fully.

In a bold move, Paloma reaches out, her fingertips delicately curling around the collar of his jacket. With a gentle tug, she draws him closer, her lips meeting his in a fervent kiss.

Caught off guard, he momentarily freezes, but the warmth of her touch and the intensity of her kiss quickly erases any hesitation. In an instant, they’re lost in each other, their lips moving with a fiery urgency, igniting the flame that has been smoldering between them.

Everything else fades away, leaving only the two of them lost in a sea of passion and desire. With each kiss, they explore each other’s mouths. Licking, sucking, biting; it’s better than anything either of them could have ever imagined.

She can’t help but moan softly into his mouth at the way his hands move over her body. Every caress feels like a promise of pleasure to come, and she surrenders completely to Javier.

His muscles tense as he pulls her closer, his touch becoming more urgent. His fingers trace her curves, lingering on the places that make her gasp with pleasure. She can’t help but arch her back, pressing herself even closer to him, desperate for more.

As their bodies meld together, there is sense of completion that they’ve never experienced before. It’s as if they were always meant to be together, two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

Reluctantly, she pulls back first leaving him yearning for more as he reaches out, chasing after her lips.

Their fervent kisses have left his mouth slightly swollen and lips glistening, adorned with remnants of her saliva, evidence of the passion with which they had indulged in each other.

Her eyes are swimming with lust as she brushes some of his hair to the side, “I had to,” she whispers softly, her voice barely above a murmur; filled with affection and sincerity,  “just once.”

Her words carry a weight of longing and vulnerability, a confession of the depth of her emotions for him.

“Buenas noches, Javi.”

He’s so bossy, He makes me dance. Tryna sit in the back of his whip And just cancel my plans. Sweet like candy, But he’s such a man. He knows just what it does When he’s holding me tight And he calls me “Moonlight” too. 

[promise-you-doie]

K. Jungwoo | Until Forever (TEASER)

The story follows a young woman, recently diagnosed with a terminal illness, who encounters a mysterious and alluring vampire named Jungwoo. Despite her fear and disbelief, she finds herself drawn to him, seeking solace and companionship in the face of her impending death. As their connection deepens, Jungwoo reveals his own centuries-long struggle with immortality and his desperate desire to end his own life. Together, they navigate the complexities of their unique circumstances, exploring themes of mortality, love, and the meaning of existence.

Jungwoo x Fem Reader (soulmates)

1k words

Fluff, Angst, Suggestive

Warnings: mention of suicide, blood, violence.

Out October 17th

As you prepared to brave the storm, you noticed a figure moving toward you through the rain, tall and shadowy, an umbrella held above his head. The closer he got, the more familiar his silhouette became, and soon, Jungwoo came into view, his pale features striking against the backdrop of the storm.

"What are you doing here?" you asked as he approached, surprised but not entirely unwelcoming.

Without a word, Jungwoo shifted the umbrella over your head, shielding you from the rain. "I thought I should apologize," he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the rain. "I was inconsiderate last night."

His presence felt almost calming, and despite the storm around you, there was something comforting about him being there. You bit back a smile, tilting your head slightly. "In that case, maybe I owe you an apology too," you replied playfully. "Let’s just call it even."

Jungwoo’s mouth curved into a small smile, one that revealed his fangs. Without a word, he gestured for you to start walking, falling into step beside you as you made your way down the rain-soaked street.

The storm didn’t feel so bad with him there. The steady patter of rain against the umbrella, the occasional flash of lightning—it was almost... calming. Even a little romantic, if you let yourself think about it that way.

After a few minutes of silence, Jungwoo spoke up, his voice breaking through the rhythm of the rain. "Who is he?”

You don't have to ask to know who he's talking about. "Hendery, he's a regular customer. He's asked me out a few times."

Jungwoo didn’t say anything for a moment, just walked beside you, his eyes focused ahead. You glanced over, trying to read him, but his expression was as unreadable as ever.

"Do you like him?" 

You shake your head. "I feel like I'm supposed to. He's sweet and considerate, but there's just something missing." Jungwoo remains quiet as you continue pondering, "Maybe it's because my standards are too high. I've never actually been in love before, and I guess there's a reason for that." 

The silence stretches comfortably between you as you walk, the sound of rain pattering against the umbrella becoming a soothing backdrop. Finally, you decide to ask, "Have you ever been in love?"

"Only once, a long time ago." Jungwoo keeps his answer short and sweet. 

"What was it like?" 

He hesitated, then shrugged. "I don’t remember. It’s been too long." His voice was distant, as if the memory was buried so deep it barely surfaced anymore.

You looked away, letting the city sounds fill your mind—the hum of passing cars, the splashing of tires through puddles. It felt good to be walking in the rain, with someone next to you. "Give me your hand," Jungwoo said suddenly, stopping in his tracks.

You blinked at him, confused. "Why?"

He didn’t answer, just extended his hand. Without really thinking, you placed yours in his, feeling the coolness of his skin as he intertwined your fingers.

"I want to show you something," he said, and before you could ask what, the umbrella lowered, and the world around you shifted.

Suddenly, you weren’t on the street anymore. You were standing atop the Willis Tower, the entire city of Chicago spread out beneath you like a vast, twinkling map. The air was sharper, cooler, and you could see everything—lightning streaking from cloud to ground, the sprawling traffic below, the shimmering lights of buildings.

Normally, the height and the storm would terrify you, but with Jungwoo’s hand gripping yours, you felt safe.

"What are we doing up here?" you ask, your voice barely rising above the howling wind as you take in the breathtaking view of a city you’ve grown to love.

"I thought you’d like it," he replied, his voice calm, as if standing on top of the world in the middle of a storm was nothing out of the ordinary.

By now, you're drenched in a mixture of rain and sweat, but you can't bring yourself to care. He was right. You loved being so high up and feeling like you were on top of the world. You got to see how small and miniature life really was. All of your worries seemed to wash away with the rain, and for a moment, you almost forgot that you weren't going to be alive for much longer. 

You turned to him, your gaze lingering. His dark hair clung to his forehead, damp from the rain, and his soft brown eyes watched you intently. For the first time, you allowed yourself to really look at him, to take in how effortlessly beautiful he was. You couldn’t help but think it.

Jungwoo smirked, as if he’d heard your thoughts

you laughed lightly, trying to shake off the heat creeping up your cheeks. "Did you bring me up here to kill me?" you joked, the words slipping out as a way to distract yourself. "Am I your next sacrifice?"

He chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Why would I kill you if you’re dying soon anyway? Seems like a waste of effort, don’t you think?"

You stepped closer to him, your hand still wrapped in his. "Then what do you want with me?"

His gaze met yours, steady and serious. "I want to know why I’m so drawn to you," he said, his voice soft but intense. "I want to understand how you, of all people, have managed to make my vampire heart beat."

His words sent a shock through you, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away from his eyes. You placed both hands over his chest, searching for a pulse you knew wouldn’t be there. But something about the moment felt alive, as if there was a connection between you both that went beyond anything you could explain.

"You want to know what it feels like?" Jungwoo’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as he placed his hands over yours.

You nodded, your breath catching. "Yes."

In a blink, the world tilted beneath you. Jungwoo turned and threw you off the building. The sudden rush of air tore the breath from your lungs, the cold wind whipping around you like a thousand icy fingers. You felt the ground drop away, and the city blurred into streaks of light and shadow.

This is it, you thought, panic surging through you. This is how I die.

[aritsukemo]

Our Home | Prologue - The New Assignment! | AssClass

Summary: After another dead end in their current assignment, three assassin siblings are given a new assignment. One more deadly and much more interesting than any mission they've experienced!

Warnings: Reader is referred to with genderfluid pronouns throughout this story, but for this chapter, they're mainly referenced/called using he/him pronouns. That said, any references towards their gender is left purposefully vague as for all to enjoy! Torture scene ahead so possible gore ahead! ( Reader uses their gun as a torture weapon and their captive is shot numerous times ). Codenames are thrown around a lot in this. ( None of the main characters shown this chapter go by their actual names ).

A/N: Hey ya'll! Sorry I went off the radar for a bit..I got sick, heh- 😅 I'm still recovering plus my Thanksgiving break is filled to the brim with me working so anything new after this probably won't come til closer to Thanksgiving Day ( if at all ). On a more positive note, me transferring this old, mainly abandoned fanfic has got me wanting to rewatch Assassination Classroom. Maybe if I get the motivation, I'll actually continue this, who knows..

Tagging: @nursedflowers ( Because I love their commentary ) + Anyone who wants to be tagged! <3

Next Chapter

Third Person Pov, on the 57th floor of Mirai Hotel

 "Oh you're so funny, Mr. Kobayashi! Who knew you could be such a charmer?" A small giggle slips past the woman's cherry red lips as they gently curve upwards. The businessman who's arm she hangs on seemed completely enthralled as his eyes darted from her glossed lips to her chocolate brown hair that was pinned up by a jeweled hairpin.

  "Please, call me Takashi." He says as he brings one of his hands to his hair. The callous skin of his fingers sliding through his sliver locks with ease. The woman nods her head, her smile widening only to drop at the sight of the man's sudden frown.

 "What's wrong?" She asks, but he doesn't respond. She stares at him for a moment, waiting for his response but when he continues to remain silent, she follows his gaze and looks behind them to see her bodyguard dressed down in a black suit and matching sunglasses.

 "Does he bother you?" She whispers, her cool voice sliding into his ear which manages to recapture his attention and makes him finally pull his eyes away from the boy to look at her.

 "Huh?" He blurts out rather dumbfoundedly.

 "Does my bodyguard's presence bother you?" She repeats, her eyes narrowing a bit as she keeps steady eye contact with him. Takashi stiffens. The woman notices and moves her hand to touch his tense shoulders where she gives him a gentle squeeze and a golden smile that deserves one hundred awards.

 "Don't be so nervous. I was simply asking a question," She cooed. Her hands begin to trail upwards, her cold fingertips tickling the skin of his neck as they slide up until they reach his face where they cup the plump of his cheeks.

 "How about we go somewhere? Although this hotel is nice, I'd much prefer to go somewhere more..romantic," She leans against him, her breast jiggling a little as they collide with his chest which doesn't go unnoticed by the older male, "Do you know of any place like that?" 

 He gulps, trying his best to smile off the butterflies in his stomach. Alas, all he managed to do was present her an awkward smile, "Oh, uh.. I- I know a few places.."

 With a mental smirk forming in her head, the woman pulls away, her award-winning smile stretching in glee as she claps her hands, "Excellent! Then let's not waste any time," She moves to stand a little behind him, her smooth, soft hand touching his back and giving him a gentle push. He looks back at her, beginning to raise his eyebrow as she gives him another push.

 "Go on ahead without me and I'll join you in a bit. I need to send him off," She gestures towards her bodyguard, "What I plan to do with you..heh, let's just say it's not something a kid like him should see."

At her comment the wealthy man's entire face flushes, his mind creating all types of scenarios as he nods dumbly and turns, walking away without any further compliants.

 "Don't have too much fun without me!" As the man boards the elevator at the end of the hall, one of his last sights is her side profile. Her sparkling eye, a polished, perfectly stretched smile, a cherry blush painting her porcelain skin, and her hand waving goodbye to him. It's a shame the doors closed before he could wave back..

As soon as those steel doors closed and that waste of space was out of her sights, the woman saw no reason in keeping up her act. As quick as a snap of a finger, her apple colored lips twist into a rotten frown and her smooth skin is wrinkled by her eyebrows as they scrunch to form a deep v. It was like watching a beautiful butterfly transform into an ugly slug.

..But in her bodyguard's eyes, she seemed pretty much the same.

 "Alright, listen up brat. You needa' scram," She snapped, her voice once soft and tender now grating like a knife scratching against a chalkboard, "I originally hired ya' ass because I thought you were decent enough to do ya' job and stay in the background but I seemed to be wrong."

 "Now, if I see you hangin' around me anymore, I'll make sure yer never able to find a job in this country again."

And with that final warning leaving her lips, she resets. Her pretty mask returns and she smiles at the boy. Although to him, her smile seemed rather oily, "Now, a very wealthy man..whatever his name was..is waiting for me right now so I musn't waste anymore time on you," And without so much as a goodbye, she turns on her heel and walks off in the direction of the elevator, completely unaware of her now fired bodyguard's earpiece buzzing to life.

 "Shifting to plan b, you must secure the target's location before pursing any further actions. She's is approximately five meters away and is increasing the distance between you two every fifteen hundred milliseconds."

 "I will disable the elevator shortly after she boards it. Based on my calculations, she will end up on the seventeenth floor in roughly five minutes and fifteen seconds and counting. I trust that you'll be able to descend forty floors in that time."

Oh they'll manage. As he was continuously being fed information, the bodyguard decided that the obvious way down was to take the stairs. Running the opposite way the woman went and taking a sharp left, he wasted no time in grabbing the knob, twisting it, and opening the sliver door that led to the winding staircase. And without so much as a second thought, they jump over the railing and begin their freefall down.

..What? Surprised? Running down all those steps would take too much time and energy. Plus, as long as he doesn't die, this way down should be fine.

Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven.. Second by second he passes by floors until he finally catches a glimpse at the steel plating that reads '20'. He waits for another second to pass before he decides to act, reaching his arms out and grabbing onto the railing.

After let himself dangle for a moment, the bodyguard tightens their grip on the railing, they swing forward then back then forward again, steadily building up momentum until his body eventually swings back enough to flip completely and he's able to swing over the railing, landing silently in front of the door that reads the number '17'. Perfect.

 "As expected, you arrived early. The target will be arriving on the floor in another three minutes and thirty-nine seconds and counting. All the necessary cameras have been disabled and I've already gained access to all of the vacant deluxe rooms on this floor. When the target steps on the floor, the closest room will be '128' however, rooms '131', '133', and '134' can also be used if the situation calls for it."

Opening the door and walking down the hall, the bodyguard leans against a dim corner that gives him the perfect view of the elevator. He then leans back, crosses his arms, and waits.

About two minutes pass and the dinging of the elevator signals to the entire floor that a new visitor has arrived. One that seemed rather confused by her destination.

 "What the hell," She mumbles under her breath, her hand coming up to click the floor button that reads '1', mumbling a slew of curses under her breath when nothing happens.

 "Damnit.. Whatever. I'll just take the stairs," Stepping off the elevator, the woman walks right past her now fired bodyguard as if she never noticed him standing in the corner at all. She walks without a care in the world, her hips swishing left then right then left in a rhythm as she passes each room, completely unaware of the eyes that watch her.

When he's gained a comfortable distance away, the bodyguard straightens his posture and follows after her. His steps slow. Left foot then right foot, then left again, making sure to walk just behind her. His hips begin to sway left then right then left in a rhythm and just like that he's made her presence his own, going completely under her radar with ease.

And just as his unsuspecting prey passes the room with the golden plating that read '134', he strikes. Like a hungry viper ready to feast, he quickens his pace in an instant and closes the distance. Arms snake around her neck and right under chest where they latch on with a tight grip. Her eyes widen but that's the only thing she can manage to do before her body gives in and falls limp. She can't panic, move, or speak. It's like some imaginary poison has entered her system and has managed to immobilize her entire being. What's more is that it spreads to her consciousness, wrapping it's toxin around in a suffocating embrace and causing her to finally slip into complete unconsciousness..

Softness floods the senses, wrapping around the body and threathening to swallow it whole in it's comforting embrace. At the same time, discomfort cages the body, suspending it and robbing it of that comfort. As eyelids twitch and flutter open, dark brown eyes are immediately met with a blurred sight due to it's tears acting as a semi-transparent wall that impairs their view. As the senses flood in slowly, there's a quick realization that the softness felt was beneath in the form of silk sheets. Furthermore, as the body stirs, a stinging pain quickly takes over, rooting from the arms and legs.

..Wait, are these..ropes?

 "Are you awake, Ms. Aiko?" A voice calls. One that tingles the senses from the familiarity of it and in a way, helps finally ground the woman. Fluttering her eyelids and blinking away the teary wall that blurs her vision, she cranes her head slowly to the side and the sight she's met with sends a chill down her spine.

Sitting in front of the large windows that align the walls and provide the only source of light through a crack in the black curtains sits a shadowed figure who's eyes gleam in the moonlight and stare down her tied up figure with eyes of a hungry predator that's ready to consume it's meal at any given moment.

 "Wh.. Who are you?" She squeaks out, voice shakier than an unstable bridge ready to give out which she takes note of and in turn, bites her lip in an attempt to calm her nerves.

 "Shouldn't you be worried about other, more important things, miss?" The figure asks cooly as they cross their legs over the other and clasps their hands together, "I have some questions for you. Answer them honestly and—"

 "I don't care—!" With a squeeze of a finger her words die in her throat as a gun briefly shatters the silence of the room. On instinct, the woman's eyes slam shut and her mind shoots to the worst case scenario. However as the silence returns and nothing seems to happen, her eyes crack open and she looks up, her heart skipping a beat when she does. A bullet had slammed into the delicate woodwork of the headboard just inches above her head, cracking it's beautiful form and making her heart drop.

"You shouldn't interrupt others. It's rude," The figure scolds, but their words fall upon deaf ears. The woman seemed more interested in the fact that she was almost shot in the head rather than the person who almost shot her in the head, if her refusing to look away from the hole in the headboard was any indicator of that.

 "As I was saying, I have a few questions for you. Answer them honestly and you won't have much to worry about," The figure holds up two fingers, their other hand continuing to keep their gun pointed at her and their finger on the trigger, ready to shoot at any given moment.

 "I'm only giving you two more chances. Interrupt me again or refuse to answer and..well you understand, right? Nod your head if yes," Finally, the woman forces her eyes away from the bullet-pierced bedpost. She looks over, ignoring the clammy feeling she gets when she locks eyes with the figure, and nods her head.

 "Good.. For the past month, you've been kidnapping children and selling them off to someone. I need you to tell me who that is."

 "Huh?" The noise the woman lets out is rather exasperated but she quickly closes her mouth when the figure's eyes narrow. There's her opportunity, she thinks. Although risky, a small chance to get out of this situation is better than having none.

 "I don't know what you're talking about," She begins, her voice softening as her lips begin to stretch into a sheepish smile in the darkness, "I feel a tad bit insulted that you would assume I would do something so degrading--"

 "I have photo evidence that says otherwise," And just like that, the thread of opportunity snaps, "Embezzlement, first degree murder, aggravated assualt, extortion, the list goes on.." With each crime that leaves their lips, the woman's smile gets smaller and smaller until it was nowhere to be found, "I have enough evidence of your crimes to get you life in prison. However, if you comply and answer my questions honestly, I'll convince the police to reduce your sentence to.." A pause, "..Half that long."

 "Are you..threatening me?" As the words leave her lips, her teeth clench and grind, "Are yer' seriously threatenin' me? Do you have any idea who I am? With one phone call I could ruin yer' entire life! I--!"

 "If you don't have a name, it would help to describe their attributes, mannerisms, and or any ticks they may have. If you can't give me that, describe their voice and dialects--"

 "I'm not givin' you shit!" The woman shouts, "'Little brat thinks they can command me? Do you know what I'm capable of, I can—" With another squeeze of a finger, white hot flashes obscure her vision and a sharp, blood-curlding scream forces it's way out of her throat. Crimson drips from her shattered kneecap, the red liquid pooling out and staining the expensive bedding below.

Good thing these walls are soundproof.

Amidst her shrieks of pain, the figure seems completely unfazed. As if having done this countless times and as if her screams were some sort of familiar tune, they don't jump or tense up. They simply sit there and wait for her screeching to die down, silently hoping that she doesn't pass out like the last one did.

But it's no worry really. Although a bit inconvenient, they'll admit, they have ways of waking her if something like that does occur.

Lucky enough for them, that doesn't seem to be the case. Although big, clumpy tears roll down her cheeks and her body trembles violently, she's remains awake. A little out of it, yes, but conscious nonetheless.

 "That was strike two," The figure's voice rings out, speaking a tad bit louder so that their voice could hopefully be heard over the ringing that's probably going on in the woman's ears from the pain of being shot, but also remaining calm enough not to come off as aggressive, "I'll ask you one more time.."

 "Who is the person you've abducted kids for and what do they plan to do with them? 

 "Oh, you're done?" As the bodyguard enters an alleyway that's a few blocks from Mirai Hotel, a bouncy, almost honeyed voice is what he's greeted with, "You took longer than usual. Did you get anything useful out of her?"  

 "No, I did not," He answers simply only for a groan to be heard immediately after. As the person steps forward into the light, revealing a girl who's hoodie serves to conceal the majority of her appearance aside from her fringed bangs which poke out and covers her forehead.

 "Damn, so another dead end? And here I thought you took so long because you were gathering intel or something.." She grumbles, her lips beginning to form into a pout.

 "Without the necessary distraction from you, it took longer to get her in a secluded area where I could make my move," The bodyguard speaks, crossing his arms.

"Don't blame everything on me. I did my part and distracted that perv' she was with and even managed to get him to leave the hotel. Plus, even if things didn't go exactly as planned, you still managed just fine," Despite her words, the bodyguard didn't seem all that happy with her straying from the plan. Although to others, his face seemed relatively neutral.

 "Stop glaring at me like that," The girl said, waving her hand in a carefree manner, "You're alive aren't you? I don't know why you're getting so worked up."

 "..Moving on from that, why are the higher ups making us of all people play detective and investigate the abductions? Shouldn't the police be doing this?" She asks.

 "I don't know."

 "Would it kill you to be give more than a one-shot answer every once in a while?"

 "( Assassin Codename ), are you there? Did you succeed in gathering intel on the kidnapped children?" A familiar voice rings in the bodyguard's— er, assassin's ear, successfully pulling him away from the conversation at hand.

Bringing a hand up to signal to the girl to be quiet, the assassin brings his other hand up to hold down on the small button on his earpiece, "I couldn't get anything useful out of her."

A sigh is heard, "I thought so.. Someone will be arriving shortly to pick up both you and Inari. They will be escorting you to Rei's office."

 "Does it involve another assignment?" He asks which immediately catches the other assassin's attention and causes her to look at ( Assassin Codename ) with a rather exasperated expression.

 "Another assignment? We literally just finished one! I know we're the higher ups' favorites, but would it hurt them to give us a break before putting us on another exhausting mission?" She asks, waving her hands around in all types of directions to better show her distress.

 "Why are you complaining? You barely did anything," ( Assassin Name ) says flatly.

 "How can you say that? I'll have you know I was working very hard.." As Inari begins her rant of all the things she has done to help out, and occassionally slipping in the times she's helped in past operations, ( Assassin name ) eventually tunes her out. As a black car slowly pulls to a stop in front of the alleyway, the assassin turns on his heel and walks off. Promptly ignoring the curses that are thrown at him as Inari follows after them. 

"This is ridiculous! What kind of scenarios ran through my seniors' minds to make them think that we would be compatible enough to work together?" The male grumbled as he took another once over at the information on the papers he was given.

 "Oh c'mon, don't get so angry, Kazu'," The pink-haired hitman drawled, walking over to his counterpart's desk which had the nameplate that read 'Kazuhiko Rei' standing tall in the center front.

With a lazy smile on his face, he swings his arms around the hazel-eyed male, "You get to work with your best buddy and the world's greatest hitman! You should be jumping with joy!"

With a scoff, the suited agent pushes him off with a forceful roll of his shoulder which causes the younger male to chuckle.

"As always, your arrogance knows no bounds, Ryūji."

As if he had been shot in the heart, Ryūji clutches his chest and staggers back. His expression morphing into one of faux agony as his brows knit together and his hand comes up to fall dramatically over his forehead.

 "I can't believe you can be so cruel to me! Help me out here, Rina!" At the call of her codename, the girl sitting on the lush couch pauses, her hands stilling above the keys of her laptop as she looks over, her lips stretching into a smile.

 "Well logically speaking, I can't provide an accurate estimate since I don't know the details of this assignment yet. However, I can give you my educated guess based on your compatibility in past operations you've had together as well as the statistics of your own individual skill sets," She said, already beginning to type the numbers into her computer when Rei signals to her to stop.

 "That won't be needed, Rina. Please, do not insult your own intelligence by humoring this fool any longer," He says.

Retracting her hands from the keyboard, Rina eyes fall closed as she nods her head, "Very well then."

 "Huh.. Why do I feel betrayed all of a sudden?" Ryūji asks no one in particular.

With a sudden burst pulling everyone in the room away from the conversation, the doors to Rei's office swing open and Inari comes running in, her straight-faced colleague walking in shortly after her.

 "We're here!" Inari says in a sort of sing-songy voice, getting a mixture of different greetings as a response. Initially her smile widens, but as her eyes fall on Ryūji, who was now splayed out on the couch parallel to the one Rina sat on, her mouth falls open slightly and her eyes widen as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

 "Ryūji?" As she nears him, the hitman stretches his arm out, his hand balled into a fist as he waits for her to reciprocate the action.

 "Long time no see, kid," He says and her smile quickly returns. Balling up her hand, Inari eagerly fists bumps with the pink-haired hitman and in response to that, he laughs and throws his arm around her shoulders, pulling her down so that he could ruffle her hair.

 "Why are you here?" ( Assassin Codename ) questions.

 "First time seeing me in three years and that's what you ask me? And here I thought you'd be running into my arms," He jokes, but the assassin doesn't laugh nor roll his eyes. He doesn't react much at all really. 

 "The government has, for some odd reason, hired Ryūji to work alongside us on this operation," Rei says, his deep, mellow voice capturing everyone's attention.

 "Us?" Inari repeats, "You're going to be involved too? What, are aliens taking over the world or something?" She jokes. Her brow raising when she spots Ryūji making a face at her comment.

 "I'll explain the details in a moment. Firstly, would either of you like some tea? I've just restocked yesterday," Rei asks, sliding his chair back so that he can stand up and walk out from behind his desk.

( Assassin Codename ) walks over to the couch where Rina types who knows what into her laptop and sits down, "I'll have ( Tea of Choice )," He says, as the long haired girl beside her halts and glances up at Rei.

 "May I have a refill?" She asks, having long finished her chamomile tea before the other two arrived. Rei nods his head, "Of course."

 "Peppermint for me!" Inari exclaims which gains a few sideways looks from her two partners in crime.

"What?" She inquires as Rei walks out of the room to fetch the tea.

"It's nothing really," Rina says, "..but I thought you would've grown out of this phase by now.."

Inari brow quirks up, a vein flexing on the corner of her face, "Like that flowery bullshit taste any better."

"It does taste better. Research shows that—"

 "—My research shows that it tastes like watered-down grass," Inari interrupts.

As the two began bickering, Ryūji pouts. Not due to their pointless argument, but because of the blonde-headed agent who walked out a few moments ago.

 "How come he didn't ask me if I wanted anything?" He asks which only catches ( Assassin Codenames )'s attention, the other two being too indulged in their dispute to hear him.

 "You don't like tea," They answer simply and like some moody teenager, Ryūji's pout deepens, a small 'hmph' slipping from his lips as he crosses his arms.

 "Yeah but he could've still offered me some."

 "Hey, ( Assassin Codename )!" Inari calls, "You have taste. Set Rina straight already so that we can move on from this."

 "Both teas possess a distasteful flavor. I'm not partial to either."

 "Ugh! You're hopeless!" Inari shouts. Rina looks at her with an almost disappointed look.

 "It was immature of you to try and drag a third party into our conversation in order to win an argument," She scolds, using an almost motherly tone. Inari rolls her eyes.

 "Yeah, yeah whatever.." As that grumbled comment leaves her lips, Inari chooses to plop down on the small space left on the couch that Ryūji was laying on. Shortly after doing so, the doors to the office open and Rei comes rolling in with a small cart.

As the light smell of different teas fill the air, Rei hands ( Assassin Codename ) and Inari their cups of tea before grabbing the gaudy-looking teapot and pouring Rina some chamomile tea in her matching teacup. He then wheels the cart over to a corner before walking back over to his desk and sitting down.

 "So.. Don't keep us in suspense, what's this new assignment about?" Inari says after a while.

 "Yes," Rei clasps his hands together, his eyes narrowing, "We're all aware about the incident that happened two months ago? The one involving our moon being turned into a permanent crescent seemingly in an instant?"

 "How could we forget?" Inari said, leaning back against the couch, "Those stick in the mud higher ups of ours have been losing their shit over it ever since."

 "Well a week or so after that happened, we captured an alien-like being who we have reason to believe is responsible for that incident. Unfortunately, we're having trouble with destroying it."

 "Are these details relevant to the assignment?" ( Assassin Codename ) cuts in. Rei nods his head.

 "Yes, you see, about a month ago the creature made the odd request to teach a class of poor-preforming students at Kunugigaoka Junior High."

 "And our superiors agreed to this arrangement?" Rina asks, her brows beginning to knit together, "Having civilians come in such close contact with this creature will increase the difficulty of killing the creature and tremendously decrease our success rate. And, that's not counting the possible causalities that could happen."

  "I understand your concerns. I myself was skeptical of the idea of allowing the fiend around defenseless children, however the creature has sworn not to bring any harm to the students and is completely fine with them attacking as they see fit. Plus, government officials will be there to oversee everything so in that aspect, we have nothing to worry about."

 "But what's stopping it from attacking them? You said it yourself that even with the government's advanced technology and resources they were unable to defeat it so what's preventing it from doing whatever it wishes to?" She retorts.

 "We don't understand it's reasoning behind this nor can we one hundred percent guarantee the kids' safety but regardless, we don't have much of a choice. You see, when the creature proposed this idea it also made the proclamation that it will blow up the earth within a year's time."

 "So they're panicking.." Inari mumbles, referring to her superiors, "Heh.. How pathetic," She sneers, "..But I guess it's not all bad. Think if we take it's head they'll actually pay us for our efforts?"

 "Actually, they will. If we manage to succeed, they're agreeing to pay us a rather hefty sum of money—ten billion yen, to be precise," Rei explains causing everyone, aside from a certain monotonous someone, to gape in shock.

 "You serious?" Inari is the one to break the silence, her gaze seeming almost skeptical as she awaits for him to answer.

 "Am I one to joke about something like this?" Rei asks only for Ryūji to follow up with, "Yeah, is he one to joke at all?"

Rei continues, "We would, of course, split the ten billion among ourselves, but I'm sure none of you mind having two billion yen to keep for yourself. If you do, I can divide Ryūji's share among you three."

 "Hey, how come I'm gettin' a pay cut and we haven't even got the ten billion yet?"

Ignoring him, Rei focuses his attention on the three assassins' before him, "So, do you believe you all can handle this task? As you already know, there is no room for failure."

 "Not like we have much of a choice," Inari says, "And even if I did, I wouldn't want to leave the fate of my future to a buncha' punks."

 "That's rich coming from you, Inari," Rina quips. She then turns to look at ( Assassin Codename ) who seemed more or less unfazed by the entire situation as he sipped his tea.

 "What do you think would be the right course of action, ( Assassin Codename )?" Rina asks and suddenly everyone's eyes are on him, not that he cares.

Slowly, he lowers the teacup from his mouth, "Isn't it obvious?" He asks, and as if everything revolved around him in this moment, the atmosphere seems to completely change.

Upon first glance, it goes unnoticed, but as the assassin looks up, his gaze sharper than any dagger he may have hidden and more dangerous than any murderous fiend or wild animal, the bloodlust that exudes them becomes all the more apparent.

 "I'll make short work of it." 

A whistle of amusement breaks the silence before it even has the time to begin, "Well then it's settled! Team Pink is in business!" Ryūji cheers. Inari following up with a similar noise of glee.

Rei lets out a long sigh, his hand coming up to prop his head up, "I can already feel a headache coming on.."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[mayajadewrites]

suguru geto x fem reader: lucky

roommates to lovers–friends to lovers–slow burn

story synopsis: Suguru Geto is your best friend and roommate. After a year of living together, there have been more than one opportunity to throw away your friendship. The question is, would you get lucky as fall in love for the rest of your days?

ao3

CHAPTER SEVEN

SMUT AHEAD

🎧🌙🧺📖🕯️🧸🤍

It's been 2 weeks since you and Suguru decided to let your feelings roam and try a relationship.

This meant you had to tell Choso that you can no longer see him, which made you sad because you genuinely liked Choso.

But your feelings for Suguru are different. Even though he's your best friend, he's still mysterious.

You've held strong to your promise to yourself to not have sex with Suguru yet. Frankly, you're nervous about the whole thing. Not because you're not experienced, but because you've never experienced Suguru. The way he carries himself makes you think that he knows how to use his cock and can go for hours.

Also, you haven't had sex for a few months. You're basically a virgin again.

It's Saturday night and Suguru has planned a date night for you. While you're both homebodies, you're due for a night out. Well, at least dinner.

You look at yourself in the mirror, your manicured hand running over your curves. You turn to the side and look at your ass poking out of your dress, along with your thighs. You're a thicker woman which Suguru loves.

You're wearing a body-hugging black midi dress with a lowcut neckline that showed off your chest. You accessorized with gold earrings and watch, adding a gold anklet on your right ankle. You slipped on your basic black heels, letting the anklet fall right about the strap.

You heard Suguru's door open, his footsteps to follow. You grab your purse, also stepping out into the living room.

Suguru's eyes were glued to your figure, his eyes going over all of the curves on your body. He's wearing a black suit, looking especially delicious. His hair was half up, half down, his top half of his hair secured in a bun.

"Wow." Was all he could say as he took a step towards you. His eyes devoured you before his lips did. "I didn't know you could dress up like this." He took your hand and let you do a twirl, his eyes watching your ass move.

"I bought this awhile ago and forgot about it." You looked down at your feet, glancing at your snake tattoo that wraps around your ankle and goes down to your foot. Suguru always thought this tattoo was sexy.

"I'm glad I'm the first one to see it." Suguru leaned into your ear. "And the first one to take it off of you."

A blush appeared across your face as Suguru grabbed your long coat for you out of the closet.

During the car ride, Suguru's hand stayed on your thigh, occasionally giving it a squeeze. Your pussy was aching for him – the wetness seeping to your panties. You observed his side profile: the chiseled jawline, the expresso eyes, and the black locks. You fixated on his nose for a moment, imagining that his nose is the first part that touches your core when he goes down on you.

If he could hear your thoughts he would probably be mortified.

Suguru took you to a low key italian restaurant. You both love pasta, so why not have date night there?

As you're enjoying your meals, you decide to be bold and run your heeled foot up and down his leg. Suguru's mouth curved into a smirk, his hand going to your foot. He caressed it gently, pressing his thumb to the middle part of your foot.

"Don't tease me. I'll take you in the bathroom." Suguru said casually, taking a bite of his pasta.

You had no doubt he actually would.

Maybe one day you'll take him up on that offer.

Once you finished your meal, Suguru was still hungry.

Hungry for you.

His movements were more rushed, he pulled you almost roughly from your seat, helping you get your jacket on. You looked down at his pants and noticed his dick-print in his pressed pants.

So that's why he's acting like this.

The car ride home was filled with sexual tension, both of you not willing to give in first and fuck in the car. Even though you wanted to badly, you didn't want your first time with Suguru to be in his vehicle.

After what felt like an hour, you and Suguru were in the elevator together. His hand found yours and intertwined his fingers. You looked up at him and smiled, squeezing his hand gently, loosening his grip.

Lately you've been sleeping in Suguru's room, basically using your room as a closet. You walk into his room and sit on his bed, leaning down to unbuckle your heels.

"Let me," Suguru knelt down on one knee, carefully holding your foot with one hand and unbuckling the strap with the other. You lean back on the bed, observing your boyfriend helping you take off your heels that were killing your feet. Suguru slid one heel off, moving to the other foot. His touch felt like fire, it felt like he was leaving marks along your skin. You let out a sigh, almost giving in to your needs.

Suguru brought himself to your eye-level, searching your eyes for permission to kiss you. His plump lips are soon on yours, his hands gripping your hips. You cradle his face in your hands, slipping your tongue in and out of his mouth.

His hand traveled up to your breasts, taking a handful in his hand and squeezing roughly. You moan against his lips, gripping his hair roughly.

Suguru gently pressed your body down on the bed, throwing his jacket on the floor to (hopefully) cool his body off a bit.

He was hovering over you now, his arms on both sides of your body, caging you in. His lips attached to your neck, sucking roughly and trailing kisses down to your chest.

"Tell me if you want me to stop." Suguru looked up at you, his lips almost touching the goosebumps on your skin.

You nod, pushing his head down into your chest. His lips sucked on your breast while his other hand squeezed the other breast that his mouth was not fixated on. Your toes curl as his tongue swirls around your erect nipple before he started sucking on it. He pays close attention to your movements, tending to your every need.

"Suguru," You let out a breath, tangling your fingers in his hair.

"Yes, baby?" His mouth leaves your breast.

"I need you inside of me." You could feel your pussy soaking from arousal. You love foreplay but you don't know if you can go another minute without his cock filling you.

"You don't have to tell me twice." Suguru helped you take off your dress, revealing your lacy bra and underwear. He unbuttons his shirt and pants quickly where you saw his cock pressed against the fabric of his boxer briefs.

Suguru lays down on the left side of the bed, sliding his boxer briefs down his legs, kicking them to the side. His cock sprung to his abdomen. He's big. And girthy. You didn't know if he would fit inside of you, honestly. But you never back down from a challenge.

Soon your underwear and bra was off.

"Come here." Suguru held out his hand, pulling you to straddle his waist. You bit your bottom lip as your entranced grazed his tip, causing you both to moan. "You're sure you want this?"

"Yes, Sugu." You nod, teasing his tip with your entrance. Suguru's hands landed on your hips, but are careful not to go too fast and press your body down on his.

You look down at Suguru's face, his eyes observing your every move while taking glances at your pussy.

"She's beautiful." Suguru slaps your ass gently.

"Suguru I'm not sure you're gonna fit." You look down into his eyes.

"I know you can do it, princess." Suguru gripped your hips a bit more roughly while you hovered your pussy over his tip.

You push your body down slowly on Suguru, his tip disappearing inside your pussy. Suguru's eyes roll back, his head soon following.

Inch by inch, you push yourself onto Suguru. Each time he entered you, he moaned your name.

"Fuck." Suguru smacked your ass roughly. "I need to feel all of you. I need to fill your body."

You pussy was soaking his cock and you went up and down, finally reaching the base of his cock. You moan loudly, pressing your hands to his knees.

"This view is amazing." Suguru pushed his cock into you gently, helping you with the pace. "Ride me."

You slide your pussy off of his cock, teasing his tip again before slamming yourself down on him. You quickening your pace, bouncing up and down on his cock. His hands squeezed your hips, leaving handprints on your skin.

"You take me so well." Suguru's eyes locked on yours, watching your body bounce on him. You shimy your pussy down the length of his cock once more before grinding your hips on his.

You're close.

Suguru senses how close you are and rocks your hips back and forth, pushing himself into you.

"Yes, Suguru, right there." You moan, your climax approaching.

"You come first, princess."

You grind faster before your eyes squeezed shut, your body almost malfunctioning. You ride out your high on his cock while your walls pulsate around him. Suguru looked satisfied watching you come undone on his cock.

You pant but leave Suguru inside of you. You bring a piece of your hair behind your ear, leaning down and placing a kiss on Suguru's lips. His cheeks were flushed with a light pink color, his chocolate eyes hiding underneath his eyelids.

"I want you to come now." You whisper in his ear, biting his lobe gently.

Suguru didn't verbally answer, but he flipped you both over so now he was on top. You watched as his muscular upper body glistened with sweat, his cock leaving you for a brief moment. You whimper from the lost contact before he slams into you.

His strokes are passionate, moving like music. His hand caressed your face before kissing you deeply, shoving his tongue in your mouth.

You swear you could feel his cock in your stomach. You could not believe Suguru Geto, your best friend, was currently rearranging your organs. His cock feels so good inside of you, like home.

You feel another orgasm approaching as Suguru quickened his pace, his entire length inside of you.

"Suguru," You moan, leaning your head back on the pillow.

"Come with me, princess." Suguru brings his head next to yours, pounding into your pussy. He must've felt your walls pulsate around him because his movements started to become uneven, his breath staggering.

You moan his name once more as your second climax came. You swear you saw fireworks in your eyes. Suguru was still pumping into you, about to come undone.

"Where do you want me to come?"

"Fill me." You moan as you wrap your arms around his neck, letting him pack your pussy with his cum. His hips stopped moving, his cock soon retreating from you.

You frown at the loss of his cock, wishing it was still inside you. Suguru got up, grabbing a towel and a glass of water for you. He cleans your body, paying special attention to the fresh bruises he left.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." He looked at your neck, hips, chest, and thighs. "I can't help but mark you as mine." Suguru planted a kiss on your swollen lips, leaving you breathless.

[the-bar-sinister]

Slip the Hangman's Noose and Run (2628 words) by thesavagesabretooth Summary: What if there was one thing the Phantom was more afraid of than dying? What if instead of following orders, he had thrown everything away for Simon Blackquill? What if they ran?

part 1 here

-

In the end, the Phantom had been a coward yet again. He had lied, yet again. As was his habit.

He hadn't wanted to spoil the last few hours he'd get to have with Simon with Simon's anger upon knowing the truth.

Instead he'd told him a kind lie. A fun lie. The kind of lie he knew Simon would like.

Bobby Fulbright wasn't actually a police detective at all, but rather an interpol investigator on the trail of the Phantom. He'd been installed in the police department specifically to monitor Simon, in case the prosecutor's reappearance drew him out. Like Simon, this had been Fulbright's last chance to catch the Phantom before the case would be thrown into the garbage. But now, with the assignment ending with Simon's execution, he'd gotten too close. He couldn't let go. Not of Simon, and not of the Phantom.

It was almost close to the truth.

He could tell Simon liked his lie, from the way that his smile sliced his face like the curve of a blade.

"An interpol investigator," he purred, giving Bobby an appraising look from the passenger seat. "I never would have guessed. So you're a rogue agent now?"

"That's right, sir."

"Then we can't count on any aid from your department."

"I'm afraid not, sir. They'd have you executed, and I'd be thrown out for this, if not jailed myself."

"Brave, stupid man," Simon grumbled. He tented his fingers thoughtfully. "It's just my luck that they didn't assign a more intelligent agent to this case."

He hung his head performatively as he drove. "Sorry, sir."

Simon laughed sharply. "No apology necessary, Fool Bright. A smart man wouldn't be here right now. Alright, give me five minutes."

Bobby raised an eyebrow as he watched Simon stare intently at the tips of his fingers. "What for, sir?"

"I'm planning our next move. Interpol agent or not, we both know that you aren't a master of forward planning. Or intelligent thought in general."

The Phantom found he couldn't argue with that on any level. Well, even if planning ahead was pointless since they'd be caught almost immediately, Simon looked like he was having fun, so there was no need to stop him.

He laughed loudly. "You've got me there, sir! Please, I put myself in your hands."

"Good man. Do we have any access to funds?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "I took a large sum of money out of my savings in cash before I got you out of prison, sir."

That was a lie. The cash in his briefcase in the back was part of the money furnished by his organization for facilitating his job. He hadn't touched the Bobby Fulbright account in days. Doing so would have only painted a target on him– and besides, the man didn't get paid much anyway.

"Good man, Fool Bright," Simon repeated. "Very well. Give me a moment."

Bobby nodded, and concentrated on driving, sneaking glances at Simon in the rearview mirror.

After a moment, Simon said, "You seem very anxious, Fool Bright. You may put your arm around me, if you like."

The Phantom made a show of being amusingly flustered, and he slipped his arm around Simon's shoulders, since that was what the prosecutor wanted from him. 

Simon wasn't stupid. Bobby was lying to him. 

He wasn't sure exactly what the truth was, but the idea that Bobby Fulbright had anywhere the capability to be an international investigator seemed like it was a laughably obvious falsehood. Perhaps he'd made up the story just so Simon would be impressed with him, or would somehow be less worried about him losing his job at the department.

It didn't really matter why Bobby was lying though. Only two things mattered.

First– Bobby had cared enough about him to throw everything away and break him out of jail to save him from execution. 

This first fact Simon believed with unshakable conviction. It was the entire foundation upon which he was currently reforming his unexpectedly long life. He was here because Bobby wanted him to be here. As a samurai, Simon understood that this meant that he owed the man his whole life, whatever remained of it. No matter what else was the case, this was true. This was the bedrock of Simon's new life.

Second– Bobby said that he had been following the Phantom case, and was in possession of some details which might constitute a lead on hunting him down.

This fact Simon was less sure of. Since he didn't fully believe that Fulbright was an international investigator of any kind, he had no idea how much faith to stake on his supposed lead.

Well, he'd stake all of it on it anyway. 

It's not like he had anything better to do. If that was what the man who saved his life wanted, that was what they were going to do.

"South Asia, you said," Simon murmured, as he leaned into Fulbright's arm around his shoulders. The weight of it was comforting, and he hoped it comforted whatever dire thoughts were circling the fool's as well. "Cauli, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir. That's the best information we have as to where the organization might be located."

"Well then, the first step is to get there, wouldn't you agree?"

"Well, ah, obviously, sir, but that will be a little tricky you know, with airport security and everything? I mean, travel papers alone."

"Worry not, Fool Bright," Simon said with a grin. "You may not have the brains for this sort of thing, but I've been among criminals for the past near decade of my life. I can get us out of the country."

Simon enjoyed the expression of supreme surprise on the man's face. "You can?"

"Without a doubt. I had a friend in the clink who was acquainted of a master forger. Point us at Sacremento, Fool Bright, and we'll stop in the first second hand clothes shop we see before we go see the men I have in mind."

"Second hand clothes?"

"Indeed," Simon smiled broadly. This was almost fun. "We can't go around looking like a cop and a prosecutor, now can we? And brand new clothes will tip off any criminals we meet just as much as our current ones."

"Oh! I see!" Fulbright beamed. "You're talking about going undercover! With disguises!"

He chuckled. "Well spotted, Fool Bright. I am indeed. It appears as though to catch our criminal we'll have to become criminals. Well. I have quite the head start. But you, you'll need a lot of work."

As the Phantom dug with Simon through racks of used clothes in a dingy second hand store in some ugly town south of Sacramento, the big smile written on his face was almost genuine. It was as close to actual pleasure as he ever got.

Simon had given the Phantom a role. His first new role in a whole year, and Simon had invented it for him.

As they drove the several hours between Los Angeles and their destination, Simon had spent the time improvising a backstory for the pair of them as criminals. Simon was Taka, a no-good, disowned son of a branch of the Kitaki crime family, who had gotten into selling narcotics and was fleeing the country for a while due to heat from the cops.

Bobby was to be Watchdog, or just Dog, Taka's personal enforcer and bodyguard. At first, Simon had said that all he had to do was stand there and look tough, but the Phantom had asked him for a little more.

Simon had raised his eyebrow. "Method actor, eh, Fool Bright? Very well, then."

Dog was an orphan who had been raised as a bodyguard for the favored sons of the Kitaki family, but his loud, obnoxious ways– drinking and gambling, and especially getting casual and friendly with his charges– had angered the head of the family and Dog was going to be executed over it. Young Taka, however, had used the last his sway with the family to have Dog's life spared, and the two of them were instead exiled in disgrace to manage low-rent Kitaki dealings far from the core of the family.

The two of them were in a torrid love affair, though Taka was a spoiled brat, disgusted and embarrassed to be seen with such a low level and obnoxious thug of a lover and he was forbidden to touch him in public. Despite this, and despite his vices, Dog was completely loyal to his master.

It was an interesting role. A variation in some ways on Bobby Fulbright, and the Phantom thought it gave him some insight on what Simon liked about Bobby– or maybe just about the range Simon thought that Bobby would be able to act.

It wasn't completely different, but it was different enough that the Phantom was almost excited to change faces, even in a subtle way, and perhaps interested in seeing if he impressed Simon with his abilities.

"You're sure you want to go by Taka?" Bobby asked as Simon came out of the dressing room in black jeans, a black hoodie, and some old blue t-shirt with an unidentifiable band logo. "I'm sorry that I couldn't bring him with us."

"It's a fitting tribute," Simon said, raising his chin. "And don't trouble yourself. I wouldn't have seen him again after today in any case. I– will believe he'll be well treated."

Bobby should be very touched and moved by such a statement. His face screwed up with deliberate emotion, his eyes welling with overflowing tears as he grabbed Simon's hand tightly. "It's a fitting tribute, sir. I'll call you Taka, then."

"Good. Dog." Simon smiled slyly at him, as he took his own armful of clothes in to get changed.

There it was again. Something like pleasure, or pride in his chest.

[cherryrainn]

━━ ✧ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 {𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫}

.11 - 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚.

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; s3lf harm, depression, bulimia, mental health issues, self hatred, stuff like that, and just like my other stories... lots of angst!

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

─ ✩ 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 ; here

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

the room's silence hung heavy in the air as you lay on the worn-out mattress, replaying the unexpected kiss in your mind. the door creaked open, breaking the solitude, and in walked striker. his presence filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and confusion.

he glanced at you, a flicker of something unreadable in his yellow eyes. the atmosphere shifted, and for a moment, it seemed like the room held the weight of unspoken words. without acknowledging the recent intimate moment, striker cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

he sauntered over to the chair, his usual demeanor returning. "got a job. big one. and you're gonna be a part of it."

your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "me? i don't even know how to properly use a gun."

striker chuckled, the straw of wheat dancing between his lips. "don't you worry, sweetheart. i'll teach you, and i'll teach you fast. we don't have time for a slow learning curve on this one."

a surge of anxiety twisted in your gut. this wasn't just some spontaneous sparring session; this was striker's actual job, and apparently, you were about to be a part of it for whatever reason. the weight of the responsibility sank in, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this was a significant turning point.

you hesitated, your mind racing. "why though? can't you just... do it yourself?"

striker smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "you've got potential, sweetheart. besides, i like working with someone who's got a bit of fire in them. adds some excitement to the job."

his nonchalant attitude did little to ease your nerves. you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "alright, fine. teach me. but i'm not making any promises about being a natural at this."

striker's grin widened. "that's the spirit. you'll catch on quicker than you think. we'll get what we need when we see the man. no need for papers just yet."

you nodded, a mixture of determination and anxiety coursing through you. "alright, but i'm tired. we just got to this motel."

striker rolled his eyes, the southern drawl returning with a hint of annoyance. "we're not going now. we'll hit the sack and head out in the morning. can't pull off a job like this with no rest."

relief washed over you at the prospect of getting some rest, but the weight of the upcoming task lingered in the back of your mind. you followed striker's lead as he made his way towards the bed, flopping down with the same nonchalant attitude he seemed to carry everywhere.

as you settled onto the mattress, the worn-out springs groaning beneath your weight, striker cast you a sidelong glance. "get some sleep, darlin'. we've got a busy day ahead of us."

you nodded, feeling the exhaustion settling in. the events of the day, from the chaotic streets of wrath to the impromptu sparring session, had left you physically and mentally drained. despite the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, sleep claimed you swiftly, pulling you into the realm of dreams haunted by the demons of your own mind.

morning light seeped through the cracks in the motel's curtains, rousing you from your restless slumber. striker, ever the early riser, was already up and about, his silhouette visible against the faint glow of the rising sun.

"rise and shine, darlin'," he called out, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

you groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "can't i catch a break and sleep in once in a while?"

striker chuckled, the sound echoing through the dimly lit room. "not in this line of work. we're on a schedule."

you begrudgingly got up, the fatigue clinging to you like a heavy cloak. the reality of the day ahead hit you, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervous energy.

"so, what's the plan?" you asked, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

striker tossed you a firearm, its cold metal weight unfamiliar in your hands. "first, we'll get you acquainted with this beauty. then, we'll pay our friend a visit and make sure he's properly motivated to cooperate."

the gravity of striker's words sank in, and you couldn't deny the apprehension that settled in your gut. this wasn't a game; it was the dangerous dance of demons, and you were about to take your first steps.

the two of you stepped out into the chaotic streets of wrath, the city already alive with activity. bombproof stood patiently, its eyes fixed on you two as if knowing the role he played in the upcoming venture.

striker motioned for you to hop onto bombproof, his usual swagger evident even in the early hours of the day. "time to ride. we've got business to attend to."

you climbed onto the demonic steed, the sensation of its unnatural warmth beneath you sending a shiver down your spine. striker mounted behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist.

"let's get outta here for a bit," striker suggested, guiding bombproof away from the bustling streets of wrath.

you held onto bombproof as the cityscape gradually transformed into a desolate expanse on the outskirts of the district. the chaotic rhythm of hell's heart faded into the distance, replaced by the eerie stillness of the abandoned training ground.

striker brought bombproof to a halt in the empty arena, the dusty ground beneath the horse's hooves. he dismounted with his usual nonchalant manner and turned to you, a glint of mischief in his yellow eyes.

"alright, sweetheart. time for your first lesson. we'll use this place to avoid any unwanted attention."

you raised an eyebrow, the charged atmosphere making your pulse quicken. striker reached into a hidden compartment on bombproof, pulling out a pair of handguns. he offered one to you, his tall figure towering behind you as his hands guided yours, helping you find the right grip.

"first, familiarize yourself with the weapon. get comfortable with its weight and feel. it's an extension of yourself," he explained, his tone surprisingly sultry.

his height allowed him to lean over you, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered encouragement. you couldn't deny the thrill that shot through you, the shared proximity creating an intimate connection that transcended the mundane.

"now, let's see what you've got. aim for that rock over there," striker instructed, his voice a low murmur.

with striker's tall frame behind you, he guided your stance, his hands lingering on your waist. his proximity, combined with the dangerous allure of the guns, heightened the intensity of the moment. the shot rang out, the echo lingering in the desolate space.

striker grinned, leaning down. "not bad for a beginner. now, let's work on accuracy. adjust your stance, find your rhythm, and squeeze the trigger smoothly."

the impromptu shooting lesson continued, striker's tall presence a dominating force behind you. he corrected your form with a touch that spoke of expertise and desire, turning the barren landscape into a backdrop for a dance of shadows and sin.

as the sun cast long shadows across the desolate training ground, striker called for a break. you sat on a weathered rock, the adrenaline of the lesson still coursing through your veins. striker joined you, the air thick with a palpable tension.

"not bad at all, sugar." striker purred. "but, let's head back. we've got business to attend to, and i've got more to teach you," striker said, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

as you and striker made your way back to bombproof, the lingering heat of the shooting lesson still hung in the air. striker helped you onto the demonic steed with a casual ease that spoke of familiarity. the imp's strong arms encircled your waist once again, creating a sense of intimacy that seemed to have taken root.

"we're headed to the pride ring. our man's waiting," striker informed.

bombproof carried you through the chaotic streets of wrath, the rhythmic clattering of hooves a steady cadence to the sinuous dance of the city. the neon glow of demonic establishments illuminated the way, casting surreal shadows on the dusty streets.

upon reaching the pride ring, striker guided bombproof through the bustling crowd, the imp's figure cutting through the chaos. you dismounted, and striker's hand reached out, a silent invitation for you to stand by his side.

the man who had hired striker awaited in the dimly lit corner of a shadowy bar. he was a demon with a polished demeanor, dressed in a tailored suit that spoke of both wealth and authority. his eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the room as if he could see through the very fabric of hell.

"striker, right on time!" the man acknowledged, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. his gaze then shifted to you, and a sly grin crept onto his face. "and who's this lovely creature?"

striker's drawl added a touch of mockery to the formality of the conversation. "this is y/n, my partner. they've got the skills we need for the job." he said, not exactly telling the truth.

the man's eyes lingered on you, an appraising glint in his gaze. "well, striker, you've outdone yourself this time. a partner with both beauty and skill. impressive."

striker's protective instinct flared, his form subtly positioning itself between you and the man. "we're here for business, sir. let's get to it."

the man, whose name was damien chuckled, the sound echoing in the dimly lit bar. "business it is, then. the job details are in the dossier. i trust you'll handle it with your usual flair."

the atmosphere in the dimly lit bar grew thick with tension as damien delved into the details of the mission. you listened intently, the weight of the impending task settling on your shoulders.

"our target is lucius infernum," damien began, his voice a low, conspiratorial murmur. "he's a demon with fingers in every sinful pie you can imagine. lust, greed, you name it. but what sets him apart is his ownership of the infamous nightclub, obsidian temptation, right here in the pride ring."

the mention of the nightclub brought a spark of recognition. obsidian temptation was notorious even among the denizens of hell. a haven for the debauchery of the prideful, its neon-lit facade hid secrets that extended beyond the dance floor.

"he's been a thorn in the side of many. it's time someone plucked it out," damien continued, his eyes flickering with a mix of contempt and desire. "lucius is a slippery one, but we've got a lead. he frequents a private section in the club, a den of indulgence reserved for the most esteemed clients."

striker's eyes narrowed, his mind already formulating a plan. "and what's our approach? walk in and take the shot?"

damien's grin widened. "not quite. lucius is surrounded by loyal bodyguards. we need subtlety. blend in with the crowd, get close, and strike when the moment is right."

as the details unfolded, a sense of urgency permeated the air. the nightclub, a pulsating heart of decadence, awaited your infiltration. damien handed you a dossier, its pages filled with information about lucius—his habits, weaknesses, and the layout of obsidian temptation.

"he's a creature of desire, easily swayed by temptation. use that to your advantage," damien advised, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that hinted at more than just professional interest.

striker's jaw tightened, a protective instinct flaring. "we'll get the job done. no need for extra complications."

the man chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips. "complications make things interesting, striker. your little friend here can handle themselves, i'm sure. lucius might find them quite... intriguing."

you tilted your head, considering damien's words. "that's a pretty good idea. if it helps us get closer to this guy, i'm in."

striker's eyes met yours, a silent understanding passing between you. "yeah, might add a layer of distraction. we play his game, and then we finish it on our terms."

damien's grin widened, clearly satisfied with the response. "glad you see the potential. now, remember, subtlety is key. get close to lucius, earn his trust. the less attention you draw, the better."

as you and striker left the dimly lit bar, the neon glow of the pride ring intensified. the city's heartbeat echoed in the distance, a rhythm that synced with the impending mission.

striker spoke, his voice low and measured. "this could work to our advantage. just follow my lead, and we'll navigate this dance."

the decision was made: to infiltrate lucius's world, you needed to blend in seamlessly with the vibrant tapestry of the pride ring. that meant acquiring clothes that oozed charm and sophistication. with striker in tow, you ventured into a stylish boutique that promised an array of ensembles.

the store was a riot of colors and fabrics, each garment vying for attention. striker, looking thoroughly unimpressed, slouched onto a plush couch in a corner, a clear declaration of his disinterest in the world of fashion.

undeterred, you dove into the racks, selecting outfits that caught your eye. the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the soft rustle of fabric. as you sifted through hangers, striker's nonchalant expression betrayed a hint of boredom.

after a series of deliberations, you settled on a sleek ensemble that struck the perfect balance between sophistication and allure. as you headed to the changing room, you shot a glance at striker, who had reclined on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, hat pulled low to shield his eyes.

slipping into the changing room, you marveled at how the outfit hugged your form in all the right places. the mirror reflected a version of yourself that seemed tailor-made for the clandestine dance you were about to embark on.

a mischievous idea sparked in your mind. striker appeared to be on the verge of succumbing to boredom-induced slumber. it was time to inject a little excitement into his world.

stepping out of the changing room with a deliberate sway in your hips, you announced, "what do you think, striker? am i ready to charm the socks off lucius?"

the effect was immediate. striker, roused from his near-nap, blinked in surprise. his eyes, usually sharp and focused, widened as they traced the contours of the outfit. a noticeable flush crept up his cheeks, a reaction you hadn't expected.

"the socks? i think you're ready for more, sweetheart." a slight smirk had been spread on his face, as he watched you sway your hips which seemed to drive him crazy.

you chuckled at his flustered response, reveling in the rare sight of striker caught off guard. "well, if i'm going to play the seduction game, i need to look the part, right?"

striker cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "yeah, yeah, sure. let's just get this over with."

with a sly grin, you couldn't resist the opportunity to tease striker. closing the distance between you two, you playfully pinched his cheek. the moment your fingers made contact, he let out a hiss, his tail rattling in an instinctive response. he tried to remain calm but his body was betraying him, making him feel flustered.

"how cute," you remarked with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "no need to be mister tough guy all the time."

striker shot you a glare, his pride wounded by the unexpected cheek pinch. "cut that out. we've got a job to do, remember?"

you couldn't resist pushing striker's buttons a bit further. ignoring his warning glare, you continued your playful banter, teasing him with each step.

"aw, is the tough man feeling a little delicate?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. "didn't know cheek pinches were kryptonite for assassins."

his tail rattled in annoyance, but you could see the faintest hint of amusement in his expression. "you're pushing your luck, sweetheart. focus on the job."

you chuckled, undeterred by his warning. "relax, cowboy. i can multitask. piece of cake."

striker let out an exasperated sigh, realizing that arguing with you was a futile endeavor. "just don't get us killed with your multitasking, okay?"

you grinned, enjoying the playful exchange. "no promises."

after selecting a set of alluring clothes, you and striker made your way to the counter to pay. the sweet lady behind the counter looked at the two of you with a warm smile, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

"are you a couple?" she asked, a playful twinkle in her eye.

the question caught you off guard, and you exchanged a glance with striker. both of you seemed momentarily flustered, a subtle blush coloring your cheeks.

"uh, no, we're not," you replied, your playful demeanorfrom before momentarily replaced by a hint of awkwardness.

the sweet lady chuckled knowingly, as if she had seen this scene play out countless times. "well, you make a cute couple. enjoy your evening, you two."

striker scoffed at the cashier's comment, a smirk playing on his lips. "yeah, real cute," he muttered under his breath.

you, on the other hand, decided to play along with the teasing atmosphere. as you left the store, you shot striker a sly grin. "well, who would've thought, striker? people mistaking us for a couple."

he rolled his eyes, a hint of irritation in his voice. "yeah, yeah, hilarious. let's just get this job done."

striker's dismissive tone stung, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt. the playful banter had seemed harmless, but now it appeared that striker wasn't as unaffected by it as he let on. you shook off the brief moment of vulnerability, reminding yourself that this mission was more important than any temporary discomfort.

"fine, let's focus on the job," you replied, your tone more serious now. "we've got a nightclub owner to deal with."

striker grunted in agreement, his demeanor shifting back to business. the streets of the pride ring stretched ahead, vibrant and chaotic. the neon lights reflected in puddles on the pavement as you both moved forward.

[mitamicah]

For the ask thing: 8, 13 (I know you do but I wanna know), 104.

Right, let me see

8. What is the best compliment you have ever received?

Oh

Eh

I'm already failing at this x'D

Gah, I am so bad at remembering things :'D - I think it might be the one compliment that made me want to actually pursue a singing "carreer" (or more like ... actually sing in public x'D):

For context I come from a family where neither my mom, dad or grandparents are big singers and so I also thought I was bad at singing growing up especially after my sister filmed me singing along to music with headphones on and it sounded horrendous because I couldn't hear myself :'3 Then at high school at around 16 years old I'd lent a cd to a friend where we bonded over liking this one song but for some reason in the moment my friend couldn't recall the name of the song so I sang a bit of it to figure out if we were thinking of the same song. Then from behind a third party friend popped in and said:

"Shut up, you said you couldn't sing that was a lie!!"

And here we are today - me going to musical summer camp in three days using one week on singing rock and pop cover songs and the week after that recording my own music ... oh and I plan on going to karaoke tomorrow x'D

13. Do you have any tattoos? If yes what do they mean?

You have chosen all the ones I am good at babbling about x'D

I do have a tattoo, just one tho on my forearm/shoulder. It is Flapjack (a cardinal bird from the cartoon series the Owl House) holding a handbrush in his beak :3 It symbolises a few things - the upper most layer is that the cardinal is somewhere seen as a newly deceased soul visiting their loved ones so having Flapjack on my arm symbolises my grandmother that passed away last year and that her soul is still with me (the brush is a silly little extra story I can talk about another time if anybody wants to hear it x'D). Yet on a deeper level the bird being Flapjack specifically is due to the fact that just after having cried my eyes out to the first episode of season 3 of the owl house titled For the Future (everybody in the fandom knows what I am referring to with this episode and the character of Flapjack) I got the call that my grandmother was at the hospital. The day after having just rewatched the episode I got the call that she was dead. So because of this Flapjack and my grandmother sort of mixed together in my mind giving my grandmother a spirit animal to take with her up to Heaven.

Now I also find it hilarious given that in april when the finale hit everybody (in the show and out of it) wanted Flapjack tattoos so for once I felt ahead of the curve x'D

Btw this is the tattoo :3

104. If money were no object, where would you like to go on vacation?

My Lord of the Rings heart is longing to visit New Zealand :'D that or Finland because of a certain brainrot x'D

Thank you for the lovely questions 🥺💚

[cartoonemotion]

sofa. I'm trying to think of another question but im not sure. would you list some of your top 10 favorite cartoons of all time

DAMN ANOTHER TOUGHIE.. ive watched a lot of cartoons... i feel like its easy just to list more current ones/cartoons ive very recently watched but im gonna try real hard not to do that. so in no particular order:

adventure time: probably an obvious choice to ppl who know me personally. im pretty sure ive said this before but i quite literally grew up with this show, like i watched the pilot on nicktoons when i was like 9 and freaked out when the first episode of the actual show aired, and ive still regularly and enthusiastically kept up with it ever since, even to this day. i have to be honest and say the inclusions of distant lands and fionna and cake had me worried in a very cynical way about wringing the franchise dry or it succumbing to nostalgia bait but ive been happy to have had those fears handily dispelled every time. it makes me really happy to see that the cast and crew that have stuck with it just seem so genuinely excited to continue to tell new stories in the expanded universe and explore the land of ooo and new characters who live there, i think thats a good way to keep an ongoing series with spinoffs or limited series or what have you to keep from getting stale

ducktales 2017: once again anybody who knows me personally or follows this blog knows why this is on the list. i. fucking. love. ducktales 2017. ive said a million times before that i think its like a perfect encapsulation of what a reboot should be, something that obviously has a lot of love and respect for the original that its rebooting, but isn't afraid to incorporate entirely new ideas or deviate from pre-established "rules" or roles of the previous installments/versions of the characters and story, so on and so forth. i think it blends the family sitcom and action adventure elements really well together, its got a great ensemble of charming characters, i think most of the over-arching storylines it sets up are executed really well and it has a lot of fun one-off stories. its not perfect but its damn near close, in my opinion. also as much as i hate disney the corporate i do still love donald duck hes the best legacy disney character ok american moment over

the secret saturdays: i was a HUGE fan of the show as it was coming out but didnt remember much of it as i got older until i rewatched it, whereupon i found out just how much it fucking holds up, oh my g0d. i genuinely cannot believe its not more popular considering its premise, and again i think the story and character writing really hold up !!!!!! it has fantastic twists, you are immediately endeared not just to the saturday family but a lot of the other supporting characters, its overreaching storyline is executed so so well especially when you consider it was unfortunately gutted and prematurely cancelled by CN. some parts of it may be a little dated but again i think for the years it was developed and coming out there are some elements that were kind of ahead of the curve. if you havent watched the secret saturdays PLEEEASE please do !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im fucking begging you. its good

ben 10: i think ben 10 might be my white whale. for important context i was scared to death of the original series as it was actively coming out when i was like, 6 years old, only to get extremely invested in it and the "original universe" franchise in like late middle school/early high school, and then they fucking got my ass AGAIN as a current twenty-something. every time i think im out they fucking pull me right back in. i know its a dumb meat headed action cartoon for little children but the wasted potential in this franchise is nothing short of insane, i wouldnt be saying this if they didnt literally bring up certain threads and ideas in the show only to be like, actually who gives a fuck ! that being said its a premise that sticks with you forever. to quote that one post

justice league unlimited: i dont post much about superhero cartoons on here but make no mistake they were hugely influential to me when i was a kid, my dad was and still is a huge marvel nerd but unfortunately for marvel (and my dad) their cartoon game was (and honestly, still kind of is) just aaaaabsolute trash, except for the ones about the x-men, but thats a ramble for another day. it wont surprise you to know a lot of the writing staff for the justice league and justice league unlimited cartoons would go on to work on the original ben 10 continuity so they have a lot of the same issues, but i would be lying if i didnt say jlu had a huge effect on my little baby brain, arguably maybe more than ben 10. why unlimited and not the original justice league cartoon of the aughts you ask ? well because jlu is hornier, and also booster gold is there

discovery kids favorites: this is technically cheating cuz its 3 cartoons, BUT ! i dont remember them enough on their own to put any one above the other. as a kid my mom hated cartoons (and honestly most tv programming aimed at children) and hated me and my sisters watching them in the room with her, or in general, for more than like 15 minutes a day, unless they were educational, and so i felt extremely clever for exploiting the discovery kids loophole bc they were cartoons made to teach you stuff. the ones i remember the most vividly and fondly were tutenstein, grossology, and growing up creepie, which i feel like honestly. says a lot about me. i should rewatch those sometime.

samurai jack: i will not argue against the fact that genndy tartakovsky is a tremendously talented individual, and a lot of his work has been extremely inspirational to me, that being said, if given the chance, i would drop an anvil on his head. i probably shouldnt say that but i cant express to you how much a lot of his work frustrates me and samurai jack really takes the cake. i cant even talk about season 5 but a lot of stuff in seasons 1-4 has problems that i feel like should be addressed, THAT BEING SAID, in spite of it all, i still fucking love samurai jack. i have fond memories of it from when i was a kid and during the collective resurgence it had as the 5th season was coming out, i cant argue that it doesnt have a lot going for it or pretend that again it isnt responsible for a lot of my own personal artistic inspirations.

class of 3000: I KNOW IVE BEEN POSTING ABOUT THIS A LOT LATELY BUT ITS NOT JUST CUZ OF THAT ! this last rewatch hasnt been my first, ive genuinely brought up this show to a lot of people both online and irl in the desperate hope other people remembered it because it was one of my absolute favorites as a kid and i remember the visceral feeling of how unfair it felt when i found out at like age 9 that it had been cancelled and there would never be another episode of it again. i think it just came into my life at the right place at the same time, i was both getting really into drawing and coming up with little stories myself and so the art and the cast really drew me in, and i had a music teacher at the time who was really into jazz and blues music and seeing that reflected in a cartoon i was watching was so cool :v] and again i just think so much of it holds up. its a gem i dont think should be hidden

spongebob (but only the first four seasons and the movie): im almost 25 so this is supremely unoriginal. its not that i think the newer/newest stuff is all bad its just that everybody gets one thing to be unreasonably blinded by nostalgia about and for me its early spongebob. the userbase on here is aging you all know what im talking about i dont need to explain this pick

the owl house: i really like the owl house for what it is ! its not for everybody, i know people tend to think it kind of skews towards "children's cartoon that is targeted for adults who still watch that stuff" but i think thats kind of cynical and not very generous to the cast and crew, i know the show got pitched around a bit before disney picked up on it but i dont think its fair to exclude the care and thought that went into re-adapting it for a broader and therefore younger audience, and the care that went into it in general ! i like its take on the fantasy setting, both the main and minor cast clearly have a lot of love and thought put into them, genuinely i think luz is maybe one of my favorite cartoon protagonists ever, the messaging it tries to get across i think comes from a personal place and is thus very earnest and sweet, and much like the secret saturdays i think its able to accomplish a lot in the limited time it was given. the whole show just feels like a labor of love to me and i just like the way that comes through !

since this was hard here are some honorable mentions:

batman the brave and the bold: wouldnt be fair to bring up a superhero cartoon and not mention this. i was pretty obsessed with this rendition of batman as a kid, unsurprising since i unironically loved the joel schumacher batman & robin movie and liked to catch the adam west batman re-runs they would play at the wee hours of the morning when i couldnt sleep, i think brave and the bold channels both of those a lot, its deeply stupid and kind of sucks in a lot of areas but thats also kind of part of the charm

3below: so i watched the first season of this before ever watching trollhunters, and while i recognize trollhunters is on a lot of levels the superior tales of arcadia cartoon i just like 3below the best. the stakes of trollhunters can get a little exhausting and i think 3below lets itself get a bit more goofy, plus its about a little group of "fish out of water" aliens !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love fish out of water stories AND aliens, what do you want me to do

fangbone!: real sofa fans remember my fangbone phase. ongoing actually cuz hes still my icon. its one of those cheaply produced flash canadian cartoons but from my perspective i think it was made by people who actually put more effort than was expected of them, which i like, and again its another fish out of water story, and the graphic novel its based on is also very cute

dwampyverse cartoons: phineas and ferb and milo murphy's law mostly ! pnf was very impactful on me as a kid and i loved the first season of mml. i think theyve reached a kind of oversaturation maybe ? that has made me juuust a little bit jaded about them, but i cant pretend like i still dont hold plenty of fondness for em in my heart

unicorn warriors eternal: see the above points about genndy tartakovsky in the samurai jack bulletpoint. the premise is a really cool one and the first season managed to be really good in ways i didnt think it would be but theres still the second season, so im scared. i hope its good. ive got the clown make up ready to go just in case though.

lastman: don't watch lastman. we all have our own cross to bear, alright, and this one's mine. i watched lastman, so you don't even have to worry about it, i mean i haven't finished the second season yet so i will, so don't watch lastman, please. im telling you as your friend, don't watch lastman. we all make mistakes sometimes, like for example, i watched lastman, both in french and english. if you watch lastman than my sacrifices will have been for nothing. don't watch it, and don't look up the comic either. im completely serious.

big city greens: im very picky about sitcoms and sitcom-type faire, but big city greens takes i think a very flat and tbh cynical gimmick and explores it with a lot of heartfelt earnestness, its hard not to be charmed by it. just pure comfort food tv to me.

danger & eggs: fun fact !!!!!! the cartoon that made me decide to make this sideblog !!! i keep meaning to revisit it, i would recommend checking it out if you havent before, both its premise and humor is very idiosyncratic and sweet to me, again its just another show that feels like it came very a place very near and dear to the creator's heart and i just always love to see that. if i had kids of my own which i never will i would definitely show it to them

[anotherwvba]

By Blood or By Choice pt. 8

It was just another Tuesday morning in the WVBA Cafeteria. The hustle and bustle of fighters, staff, and trainees fueling up for the day ahead with a healthy breakfast expertly prepared by Giovanni and his kitchen staff. Among those having breakfast were Mika and Luna, Luna animatedly recounting something.

“It was like, so surreal, you know?” Luna’s hands moved back and forth as she gestured widely, describing her experience. “Those charity boxing matches influencers and streamers can get intense! We train hard and take it seriously. And my first fight? There I was, gloves up, facing off against this girl who’s like, a legend in the Let’s Play community, in the ring, no edits, no second takes, about to throw hands. It was just… wow!”

Mika listened, her lips curving into a smile, “Talagang. I know the rush. Fighting a pro, it’ll be a totally different experience, but the spirit… the spirit’s the same, alam mo?”

Luna nodded, “Exactly! It’s that… that raw excitement. Even when it’s a charity event, the ring has this way of stripping everything down to… I don’t know… the core of who you are? That’s why when I got the invite to join the WVBA, to fight against pros, like you? How could I say no?”

“All about that XP grind, huh?” Mika asked with a chuckle.

Luna’s eyes twinkled with excitement, “You know it, girl! I’m gonna level up like no one’s ever seen. One day, I’m gonna be the final boss around here.”

As both girls laughed, the beginnings of a friendship forming quickly, a figure dressed in sleek workout gear caught Luna’s eye. “O-M-G! Mika, isn’t that Gemma Golden?” she whispered, her voice somewhere between disbelief and starstruck.

Mika turned to follow Luna’s gaze, finding the woman making her way across the cafeteria. “Gemma who?” she murmured, a small frown creasing her brow as she failed to place the familiar face.

"Gemma Golden," Luna said, her voice hushed but tinged with excitement. "The actress? The model? You know, 'Above Suspicion,' the British drama with the complex characters and all the true crime plots."

Mika’s eyes widened as she recognized the woman, "Wait? I’ve seen that show.” Mika turned back to Luna, “You’re right. That’s her! But what's she doing here?"

Luna's eyes were fixed on Gemma, who seemed to be navigating through the tables directly toward them. "I don’t know, but she's coming over here! I can't believe it, Gemma Golden, in our cafeteria!"

Gemma approached with a friendly ease, her practiced smile a sharp contrast to the wide-eyed excitement on Luna's face. "Pardon me," Gemma began, her British accent unmistakable, "would you be Star Mika?"

Mika, with a mix of politeness and curiosity, nodded, "That’s me. And this is Luna Doll," she introduced, her hand gesturing to the starstruck streamer.

Luna's words came tumbling out in a rush. "I'm such a big fan of your work! ‘Above Suspicion’, ‘Avalon Arms’, ‘The Professor’, I’ve seen all of them and you’re just amazing!"

Gemma's practiced smile widened, her voice carrying a well rehearsed warmth, "Always so lovely to meet a fan." She then turned her attention to Mika, "Could I have a moment of your time? Privately."

Luna, though slightly confused, picked up on the cue. "Oh, uh, sure," she said, sliding her chair back. "Mika, we still good for the gym later?"

Mika nodded, reassuring her. "Sure thing! Can’t wait to see what you got.."

Once Luna had moved out of earshot, Mika gestured to a chair, her tone inviting. "Please, sit. What can I do for you, Miss Golden?"

Gemma sat down and leaned in, her carefully cultivated image slipping a bit to reveal an undercurrent of urgency. She took a deep breath, "I'm actually here to train for a new movie I’m starring in called 'The Birmingham Butterfly.' It's about a young female boxer who comes up from nothing to... well, you know how these stories go."

Mika's eyes sparkled, clearly taken with the idea. "That sounds amazing! Congratulations!"

A flicker of nervousness crossed Gemma's face as she glanced around the cafeteria. "Thank you, but I need your help..."

[ridgemoor-blog]

Risk-based Interviewing

(Originally posted on 21st April 2023)

I've spent many years interviewing people, most recently for very senior roles in Digital & IT. Often it's been very successful ... but occasionally outcomes have surprised and disappointed.

I've been reflecting on that problem this week, and web-trawling to find tips. My findings fell into three categories:

Obvious, but sometimes neglected (e.g. co-ordinate tightly with co-interviewers before and after, ask more probing questions, keep score, ensure an anchor in panels, don't risk getting personal just to build rapport, ...)

Enlightening (e.g. accept you may need to drop a role instead of hiring a poor candidate, use pre-interview questionnaires, make STAR questions the centrepiece, note the non-verbals and never overlook intangible reservations, give real-world test tasks to take home, ...)

And finally:

3. Use risk-based interviewing

It probably falls into the "obvious" category really, but I hadn't thought of it this way before: Interviewing is just an exercise in de-risking.

When we scan CVs and profiles ahead of interviews, we're looking for positive matches to defined skills, competencies etc. We're seeking opportunity in what we read, but we're also picking-up risks with each candidate, which threaten the value (as illustrated here).

So we reach the high point of the curves and move into assessment, perhaps planning to major on interviews. Here the task is to reduce the risks associated with the opportunity ... if we can.

I'm suggesting treating candidate assessment as a straight exercise in risk management, creating an actual risk register at this point in the process, and sharing it across the hiring team. The risks we collectively identify then inform the methods and questions we use, how much time we take, who else gets involved, etc.

Some examples, using very broad risks:

To explore the risk that a candidate can't do the job, we might choose to run numeracy or IQ tests, ask validation questions about previous experience, or use probing questions to check we buy the stories;

to explore the risk that a candidate won't want to stick around, we can offer briefings on the role, ask about similar experiences, and dig-into career aspirations and motivators; and

to explore the risk that a candidate won't fit in, we might make introductions to potential colleagues, use social settings, ask about outside interests, and run psychometrics.

More specific risks will suggest more specific questions than these. And some will bubble-up during interviews. Be ready to identify and explore them in the moment, leaving sufficient slack time to do so.

When the first phase of assessment is complete, look carefully at the risk register, examining the residual risks for each candidate. If they're acceptable, move to hire. If they're moderate, continue assessing. If they still feels way too high, go back to the drawing board to rethink the recruitment process or even the role.

Anyone else tried this out? As usual, any supporting points or counter-points very welcome!

Disclaimer: These opinions are mine alone, so are not necessarily shared by my current employer or other organisation with which I'm connected.

[d-amore]

despetrification

"He squatted down next to her again, finally pouring the nitric acid on her head. The liquid ran down her hair, face, neck, and made its way down the curves of her body."

A vast sea of stars appeared in the clear sky as it grew dark. For those who were used to the gray empty sky of a modern big city, this could be— no, it was a surprising sight, as if several mini eyes were watching from afar, but not in a frightening way. Comforting, perhaps?

During the last two years, Senku had become accustomed to observing this clear horizon, when he woke up and when he fell asleep.

Just like he did at that moment, thinking about something.

— Well, I'm glad Mirai is okay again — he shrugged with his usual smile, turning towards the forest at the foot of the mountain — I'd love to stay longer and celebrate too, but I remembered something urgent that needs me.

— Where are you going, Senku? — Chrome asked, standing up with the others.

— Resolve personal matters. And I’d like to do it alone.

The scientist took a few more steps, under the suspicious gaze of Ishigami Village and partners he’d found to trust over time, but stopped a few centimeters from actually entering the forest.

— Actually... Taiju and Yuzuhira — he turned around, looking for his friends — can you come with me?

The moon’s white light illuminated the trio's unsteady path.

— Where are we going — Taiju observed the trees, a little ahead of the others — Senku?

— On the day of the petrification... She caught a cold and didn't go to school — he chuckled weakly, a slight hint of sadness in his voice — remember? She stayed at home sleeping, and... she's been here ever since.

They stopped in front of a leafy tree, protecting, imposing, an statue at its foot. It was a girl with long hair, her position indicated that she was sleeping on her side hugging something, which most likely fell apart, perhaps hundreds and hundreds of years ago.

Yuzuhira's eyes widened at that familiar body.

— Mitsuri! — Taiju exclaimed — she...!

— Looks alright, doesn't she? — Senku, smiling, sighed, squatting next to her and stroking her stone hair — it seems that her father from heaven really protected her all this time.

From his pocket, he pulled the bottle with the rest of the nitric acid, which he hoped would be enough to have an effect on a teenage girl of that size.

— But, after so many years, we will finally wake her...

— Wait, Senku! — Taiju warned him, before he could spill the liquid — she's naked! She can't be woken up like this!

— This story again, big loaf? — he looked at him with furrowed eyebrows and a tired voice — I already told you that in this stone world, it doesn't matter if you wake up showing your ass or your dick! And also...

He stood up, looking at him with a mischievous smile from end to end, scratching his ear with his pinky..

— ...do you think I've never seen her naked?

Taiju's eyes widened and he gasped at such insult.

— SENKU! IS THIS SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT IN FRONT OF LADIES?

He pointed at Yuzuhira and Mitsuri herself, still as stiff as ever.

— I'm kidding, I'm kidding! — he whined with Taiju’s ear tugs — do you think I'm that interested in sex??

— Boys — Yuzuhira called, putting her palms together — I've already dressed her!

— Damn, already? — He looked down at the statue, dressed in blue vest and shorts. Another smile, a little more genuine than the last one, appeared — you scare me sometimes, Yuzuhira...

He squatted down next to her again, finally pouring the nitric acid on her head. The liquid ran down her hair, face, neck, and made its way down the curves of her body. The group watched intently; any reaction could arise at any time.

— Will she still wake up with a cold? — Taiju asked, almost feeling the tension in the air with his hands.

— With the properties of nitric acid, we hope that...

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Little by little, the rocky surface broke, revealing the human being lying beneath it.

Mitsuri yawned, blinking a few times. If it was still dark, maybe she could nap a little longer before getting ready for school... Imagine her shock when she turned her face and saw her boyfriend so close, with her friends right behind him, in an unfamiliar place!

— Guys... — she rubbed her eyes, sitting up slowly. The cracking sounds were now coming from her back — where the hell are we?

— MITSURI! — Taiju, always noisy, celebrated her awakening.

— Suri... — Yuzuhira covered her mouth in surprise — the group is complete again!

— What... What the...

She looked at Senku again, he always had some explanation for whatever was happening. But he was still there, looking at her with shiny eyes from stubborn tears and caressing her cheek, a smile of victory on his lips.

He closed his eyes and kissed her, a kiss so simple, so gentle, filled with an emotion she couldn’t recognize on him. She held his wrists and also closed her eyes, this time without the danger of being forcibly taken away from him.

— Finally together again — he kissed her forehead — my oxytocin.

— What do you mean, Senku? — she smiled confused — we would see each other tomorrow at school...

— YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND? — Chrome's voice sounded through the forest — AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME?

It's not like the others actually stood there (except Hyoga), it was practically impossible not to follow the trio. They watched everything, separated into small groups and hidden behind trees and bushes, and, in less than 5 minutes, all of Senku's behavior towards the village girls made sense — at least, to those who lived with him during the construction of the Kingdom of Science.

— Senku — Mitsuri's lips trembled with all those faces watching her — who are these?

— Some new friends — he chuckled, standing up and extending his hand (now stronger and calloused) to her — the mentalist can tell you the whole story.

Within a few minutes, after a short walk and many, many questions about what it was like to date Senku Ishigami, both Mitsuri and Mirai were sitting around a campfire and Gen was updating them on everything that had occurred over the last 3700 years, just like he told to the village children. She absorbed every detail attentively, remembering her life, her parents, the “yesterday”. All this with Suika still asking her questions and Ginrou staring at her, without hiding his malicious look.

— Heeey, Senku — he poked the annoyed boy from time to time, with a mischievous smile — who could tell that a nerd like you was dating this...

— Shut up.

Around 1:30AM — maybe earlier, maybe later; there were no clocks yet — while everyone was sleeping, Mitsuri watched, from the top of a rock, either the tents or the starry sky.

Her mind wandered, but always came back to the image of Byakuya Ishigami, one of the last humans along with the space team. Of course, she always knew how much he loved his son, always supporting him in his crazy projects and everything; but the fact that he most likely thought of Senku until his last breath, taking the trouble to leave instructions and even a disc (God, how she had cried over the disc's story), even though he knew he would never see him again...

What did Byakuya think, on this same island, 3700 years ago? Did he still hope to see his son while he was alive? Did he cry in secret? Openly? Did he make friends with the group?

And what was Senku thinking, behind all that anti-sentimentalist image?

And she cried a little; if only she had woken up earlier, to keep him company when he missed his father...

— Hey — she heard a commotion behind her, turned around and saw Senku climbing the rock — aren’t you going to sleep with the others?

— I slept more than 3700 years, I think I can go over my bed time a little.

She smiled and he did too, sitting next to her.

— Not that I'm complaining, but... you were quite touchy earlier — she commented, without looking at him — you only kiss me when we're alone.

— It was a slip — he laughed at her eyes rolling, then placed a hand on top of hers — hey, I missed you. A lot.

— Why didn't you wake me up earlier?

— You don't know anything about science — he shrugged, without breaking his mischievous smile — you would only disturb me.

— Geez, that’s how you talk to Miss. Ishigami?

They both laughed, she slapped his thigh lightly repeatedly and he tried to stop her.

Senku didn't even apologized, they both knew what he was saying was a bluff. But he stared at her watching the stars, wondering if she knew the real reason, or if she thought it was because he didn't know where she was (well, partly, too). If she really knew how much she meant to him. How much he loved her.

No, being so sentimental wasn't like his usual self, maybe she’d even found it strange. Let her think it was because he didn't know where she was, rather than because he didn't want to wake her up while he was at war with Tsukasa. That he wanted to wake her up in a slightly safer world. Of stone, yes, but without the danger of death for both.

She met his gaze, showing that smile he had missed so much. Maybe she knew.

[breadknight-likes-things]

Bread's Top 5 Of 2022 #1: Sifu

Sifu is a perfect video game. I don't often call video games perfect, but I'm not shy about doing so when I feel like one deserves the moniker. DOOM 2016, Resident Evil 4, some games just deserve the status, and Sifu is one of those games. It's likely the game that's most deserved that descriptor in a very long time. Every part of Sifu is a masterpiece of design, gameplay, story, gamefeel, visual design, and any other part of a video game you can think of. If you don't know what Sifu is, that's not shocking, considering it had it's brief moment in the sun right around the release of Elden Ring. A game that garnered far more mainstream attention than Sifu could ever dream of. Sifu is a third person brawler where you work your way through five levels of increasing challenge to defeat the five kung-fu masters who killed your father and murdered your player character at the beginning of the game. The twist being, your character is in possession of a magic talisman that revives them from death, but ages them further and further each time you use it, eventually garnering a game over if you die above the in game counter age of 70.

Many of Sifu's mechanics, were I to explain them here, would sound far more complex than they really are. There's a vast array of skills to unlock and learn, XP is esoteric, but not actually that complicated, and the game was often called a Rogue Lite, or something similar. I believe it's far more straightforward of a game than a lot of people wanted to give it credit for. The age system can be confusing, and It's learning curve can be harsh at the start, but I don't think it's overtly punishing or cruel. Rather, I just think the game wants you to play it, and figure it all out for yourself, at your own pace, and not be afraid to repeat content to do a little better every time, putting yourself in a better place for the next fight ahead of you, until eventually the hardened kung-fu masters ahead of you seem like predictable child's play to defeat. The games combat system, however, is where I would really dig in my heels and keep calling Sifu a perfect video game for as long as I could. It's hard to put into words just how smooth and fluid the fighting in Sifu feels. Animations flow like water into more and more complex moves and feats, always making you feel like you're in control of someone who has truly mastered martial arts. The games posture and takedown system keeps the flow of large battles going, and never truly out of your favor if you know how to approach your foes, and when to activate the instant kill takedowns, and time stopping focus attacks, restoring a bit of a health and instantly removing enemies from the fight the majority of the time. Environments are all tailor made to serve as interesting locations for battles, with secret areas, makeshift weapons, and smartly placed objects that can serve as a vital buffer to manage the large groups of enemies you may be up against. The combat system shines brightest of all when you finally make it to the end of level, one on one, fights with the kung-fu masters. Each of the five starring in their own two stage battle, that forces you to use everything you've learned up to that point in the game to triumph without dying too many times and using up the talismans power. The second fight against the pyrokinetic pit fighter Shaun, and the final battle I won't spoil here, are the two best boss fights I've ever seen in a video game. When you practice the bosses and learn to swat aside or swiftly dodge their strongest attacks like they're nothing, you'll feel better than you've ever felt playing an action game. Sifu has only gotten better since it first released. Patches and updates have added everything from game modifiers, costumes and a fantastic new array of difficulty options, making the game even more approachable for anyone looking to jump in. I cannot encourage you to play Sifu enough. In a year with huge tent pole releases, some of which in franchises I love almost more than anything, Siifu floored me with it's incredible combat system, engaging story, unique ideas and just general vibe, all the way through the twelve times I beat it. Oh yeah, I beat Sifu twelve times this year, the year it came out. In a row. I really love Sifu.

[catsafarithewriter]

The Disappearance of Haru Yoshioka (Part 9)

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [fini]

x

Haru doesn’t know what she had expected from the Bureau. 

For years, echoes of their personalities have resounded through her stories, fictional do-gooders with hearts of gold and a surety of step, but the reality is something far... messier. 

She trusts them - she knows it is irrational, a childhood fantasy, and yet she cannot help it - but it doesn’t render her blind to their faults. To their foibles. To how uncannily human they are. If not on the outside, then on the inner. They are not the infallible heroes of her stories, but they are something far realer. 

And so she steps up into their world.

Just one adventure, she promises herself, unaware of how she had made - and broken - the very same promise in another lifetime. Just to find out why this is happening. Why I don’t remember. 

At first the Bureau are hesitant around her. Muta and Toto watch her as if she is a ghost, a half-figment of the imagination, but Baron looks at her as if she is liable to vanish at any moment. 

She is not sure which unnerves her more. 

But in time - and it does take time; they have been searching for answers for months already, and her sudden presence provides fewer answers than they had hoped - the barriers crumble. After all, there are only so many adventures they can share before a sense of companionship springs up. 

It is during one such adventure - another dead end - that Haru finds herself alone with Toto. Muta and Baron have vanished with their guide to track down a possible lead, leaving Haru and Toto to look after the camp.  

 “Why don’t you like me?” she asks, and he turns to her with that grieving gaze that still lingers in the recesses of his eyes. 

“I don’t dislike you, Haru,” he says.

“Then why do you look at me like that?” 

“Like what?”

She smiles sadly. “Like I’ve broken your heart.”

He stares at her for a long moment then, and she is almost sure he is going to brush her question away when he ducks his head, those sorrow-laden eyes finding solace in the branch beneath his talons. “It was easier before,” he murmurs. 

“Before?”

“Before I knew you. Back when you were a faceless ghost that Baron was wasting away in pursuit of.”

“Before?” she prompts again.

“Before I cared.”

A silence passes between them.

“You didn’t see Baron before,” Toto eventually continues. “He’s always had a habit of pushing himself too far; of forgetting to look after himself when others are relying on him, and when he lost you... I thought that was going to be the line that pushed him over the edge. He was going to destroy himself searching for you, and in those moments I wished that he would just forget you.”

“Your friend was hurting,” Haru says. “You wanted to protect him.”

“Yes.”

Haru sighs, her misty breath spiralling up around her. “I understand.”

“I didn’t know you, Haru. I wasn’t even sure you existed.”

“And now? Do you still think I’m a ghost? She grins. “Should I be worried you’re about to go full Ghostbuster on me?”

“Now you’re a friend, Haru,” he answers, no smile cracking at her loose humour. “I care about you.”

“Aw, thanks, Toto-”

“And that’s why I think you should leave.”   

Her next breath catches in her throat. “What?”

“You should go back to your human life, Haru. It’s where you belong.”

“Not before I find out what happened to me.”

“What happened to you is that you’ve lived a very happy life,” Toto replies, his beetle-black eyes suddenly stony. “Are you really willing to throw that away in pursuit of some asinine answers?”

“I’m not... I’m not throwing anything away-”  

“Really? Then when as the last time you spent an evening at home?” he asks. “How is progress on your newest manga going? Were you even aware that last month was your wedding anniversary?”

“I...”

“I can’t remember what your life was like before things changed, but there’s a reason Baron made the decision to walk away the first time he reunited with you. Even he, as caught up in the pursuit as he was, could see that you were happier in your life now than the one he remembers.”

“Then why did he let me return?” Haru asks.

“Honestly? I don’t think he has it in him to leave you a second time. But you do. You have the ability to go back to your life before you lose it.”

“I can go back any time I like.”

“Then why don’t you?” The smile Toto gives does not reach his eyes; instead, a bittersweet glaze falls across his gaze. “I think I understand what the spirit told me now. If we hadn’t found you, you would still be living happily in your human life.” He looks out across the hostile mountain terrain. “But instead you are here.”

“Here is no bad thing.”

“No, but when the time comes - when we find our answers and have the chance to put things back to the way they once were - will you? Will you walk away from this world of magic and monsters? Or will you abandon the life you have built to run with us for a little longer?”

“I’m not abandoning anything,” Haru retorts.  

“You can’t live in both our world and the human one, Haru. So, when the time comes, which will you choose?”

She is silent for a moment. “At least I’ll have the choice,” she replies. Her brow furrows with words she had previously overlooked. “What spirit? Who told you I’d be still living happily if you hadn’t found me?”

“Haru-”

“What do you know that you’re not telling us, Toto?”

“Nothin-”

“Tell me.”

And he looks at her with that same grief she has come to know so well. “I may know the way to someone with answers.”

“Why didn’t you bring this up before now?”

“I didn’t because you still had the chance to walk away. Because you still have time to forget and be happy again.”

 “I still will.”

His gaze is pitying. “Are you sure about that?”

“No. But at least let me choose. In the end, this is my life, not yours.”

He doesn’t answer immediately. His attention flickers to the mountainous horizon, where the first hesitant tendrils of sunlight rise above the peaks. Then he nods. “Very well. I will show the way. But have you considered, Haru, that maybe what happened to you was a kindness, not a cruelty?”

x

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [fini]

[strawbearisamu]

promises [summer collection: vol 3]

❀ timeskip! matsukawa issei x gn! reader | wc: 1.2k

summary: snapshots of the promises he made you, 8 years at a time from when you were 8 to 16 and finally a proposal at 24.

note: volumes are not connected this is a standalone story.

"hey! you can trust me," he smirked.

"oh yeah? do you remember the first promise you made?" you grinned.

❀ eight — accidents

in the sweltering heat of the sun, slippers warm from the heat, slapping against the tarmac in your little cul-de-sac, you chased him. the humidity of summer enveloping you, you wipe the sheen of sweat off your forehead, panting to catch your breath, "i give up, you win issei!"

he beamed in response, so obnoxious yet so pure, you couldn't help the little smile that graced your lips too.

"that means you have to try it! ride the bike side to side, it'll go faster!"

"side to side?" you asked, a little unsure of what he meant, getting on your little bicycle.

"yeah! it'll work, trust me," he boasted, "i saw it on tv!"

"promise?" you asked, fingers gripping a little tighter on the worn rubber handles of your bike.

"promise!" eight-year-old issei said in excitement before riding off ahead of you.

"side to side," you mumble under your breath, before pedaling up the slope, fast, your younger self blissfully ignorant of the burn in your calves and thighs, you steer your bike towards the left, then the right, then the left, and again and again. somehow convincing yourself that it was working, you gave him a thumbs-up as he looked back towards you, "catch up slowpoke!"

"i will!" you huffed at him, provoked, speeding up, as the gears of the bike started whirring louder, the wind whistling in your ear. you reach a hard corner and issei is still way ahead of you, one harsh turn tips the scales in the equilibrium of gravity as you crash and collide onto the ground.

"yn!" issei shouts, turning back and pedaling towards you.

you sniffled a little, rubbing the bloody gash on your knees, hands now a little grimy and stained from the tarmac, the rough road scraping your arms and knees, blood running along your elbows.

"you promised it would work!" you frown at him, as he leaned towards you, poking your bruise in curiosity, "OW!"

"i'm sorry y/n! they said it on tv!" he said panicked, scratching his head, before pushing you back to his house as you sat on his bike. his mom horrified at the wound, patching you up and forcing her son to apologise to you again.

"okay that's a little unfair, i was 8!" he crossed his arms.

"okay fine. ah! what about that one time!" your eyes lit up as you recalled the memory.

❀ sixteen — sneaking out

"issei," you squeezed his forearm, "we'll be fine right?"

"relax, i've done this before, we'll be fine." he assured, a playful glint in his eye. "i promise, don’t you trust me?" he inched down towards you as you nodded.

and so the both of you snuck past the napping guard, the small rusty back gate creaking as he gently pried it open, grabbing onto your wrist and dragging you along behind him, navigating the overgrown path.

giggling, you clutched onto your bags and each other as you ran, in the sports shoes you changed into just for this, in the humid summer heat, uniforms clinging onto the layer of sweat on your skin, palms sweaty against each others, a burning ache in your calves and thighs as you tried to keep up with him.

tapping your cards hastily, and hopping onto the first train. settling onto the seats of the semi-packed train. with the cool air of the air conditioning blowing in your face, and issei by your side, you still yourself in the moment, admiring him, his face, memorising the texture his curls, the slant in his lids, the curve of his lips, the scenery beyond the windows, imprinting it all in your mind, hoping you would never forget, only smiling when he raised a brow at you.

four stops later, you guys arrive at your destination. all the elaborate stealth just to eat at your favourite little ramen shop tucked away at the fourth stop. the both of you bursting into adrenaline-fuelled giggles as soon as you stepped onto the platform.

—

you slurped the last of your ramen, letting out a satisfying sigh. "we actually did it!" you grinned, proud. you and issei occupying two of the eight limited counter seats in the cramped little shop.

"we sure did," he smiled at you, resting a palm on your head before wiping away the layer of sweat on his forehead as you stared. "something on my face?" he teased, eyes finally meeting yours as your gazes lingered on one another, allowing yourselves the privilege to indulge. his deep-set eyes boring into yours with an emotion so raw and indescribable that even in the years you would spend apart, you would never forget them.

"aha! another broken promise, we were called into office the next day issei, and i distinctly remember you saying we would never get caught," you snickered.

"hey none of that matters now, only the promise i'll make you today," he defended, reaching across the candle-lit table for your hand.

❀ twenty-four — proposals

"yn," he reached into the pocket of his blazer with his free hand, pulling out a red, velvet box, popping it open to reveal a ring.

you let out a soft gasp, your bottom lip quivering slightly as you blink back the tears welling in your eyes.

"yn, i may have broken a lot of our promises, and i will admit i’ve been a bit of an asshole. but this time, i promise you, i will do everything in my power to be a damn near perfect partner for you, to make you the happiest spouse, to love you through thick and thin, through the good and the bad, through everything. as long as i’m with you.”

"issei…” a tear rolling down your cheek, “you promise?" you whispered.

"i promise." he nodded, thumb gently caressing your cheeks, wiping away the tear. the same grey eyes from 8 years ago boring into yours once again.

"that's what you said all those times too," you laugh.

"i guess you'll just have to trust me again, will you marry me?" he smiled.

"issei, i’ve never said no to all your dumb ideas, not when we were eight, not when we were sixteen," you paused, gaze falling to the ring in his hand then back at him as you soaked in the moment. the soft candle light illuminating his face, his eyes sparkling a little as they reflected the light, curls falling softly, the expectant look on his face as he fiddled the ring between his fingers.

"so are you marrying me or not?" he pouted a little in frustration.

"and i certainly am not saying no at twenty-four, yes, of course i'll marry you issei." the smile on his lips widen impossibly, impatiently sliding the ring onto your ring finger, as though he couldn't wait another moment longer.

"i can't believe you said yes, now you're stuck with me forever," a goofy smile playing on his lips, issei gets up, moving towards you, pulling your sitting form into a hug. "i love you so much," his leans his forehead against yours before guiding the back of your head into his chest, an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

"we still have to do a ceremony dumbass and you better not break your promise again," you warned, voice muffed into his top as he kissed the top of your head, "i won't babe."

sol’s comments ❀: wahaha self indulgence again :> that whole bicycle thing is based on a true story and im positive he meant sway side to side instead of steer side to side now that ive watched yowamushi pedal (aka now that im a pro cyclist). also me and my bff used to sneak out a lot during free sessions so the 2nd part was inspired by that hehe.

m.list ·˚ ༘ ꒱ | each and every reblop is appreciated ☻ (+ free hugs)

[good-beans]

This is an ask since its detailed,

Fallen Python being badly hurt in a battle, enough he loses consciousness. Just waking up with Lukas sitting next to him with an intense enough look that Python knows he messed up.

Said stare is used so he stays in bed and recovers, probably getting other peoples help to to do that. Think i saw it in “dream that died” too but part of why he does so much is if he stops and thinks…. Well its not good. Quietly admitting that to Lukas if they end up talking about it.

Since Python needs a distraction of some kind Lukas goes to the library or something and gets a couple of books (i imagined fantasy but would that genre be classed differently in fe 🤔🤔) anyway yea reading actually works! Forsyth was a big reader though i think and maybe some tales of heroes and the like hurt a bit.

Yessss 👀

I bet it takes a lot to make Python feel guilty. He's been scolded and lectured enough in his life by parents, leaders, Forsyth, so he just doesn't feel it anymore -- but Lukas gives him one single "I'm not mad, just disappointed" and he learns his lesson. I can definitely see him spreading the word to every single hero around, making sure Python doesn't overdo it and always has someone watching his back.

I feel like that can even be something he admits to canon Python, if he's there. C! Python is just trying to help, giving him all this advice about slowing down and relaxing because "I know you better than anyone!" But it gets to the point where F! Python has to explain that he can't -- he can't give himself any time to think, or else...

Aaahhh Lukas reading him stories to keep him distracted 😭 He goes around asking heroes how to distract a grieving soldier and gets answers like partying, battle, sex, and so on. He's not sure what to do. He finally goes to Python, ready to suggest something, and Python just looks up, very quietly asking if he'll read to him. (And, well, I guess it'd just be genres of realistic fiction to them which is hilarious)

Also I may have wrote a tiny thing about that first scene...

If there was one thing he could count on, it was that Lukas would be smiling.

Python had woken up to his smiling, no matter what the day ahead would bring. He recalled waking up to obnoxious morning calls with much colorful language, while Lukas would rise with a grin and a dry comment about their subtlety. Python could always look across the tent, through sunny dawns and vicious storms, and see that slight curve to his lips. Even when the pair were at his lowest, he would maintain a bitter sort of smile before releasing hell on the battlefield. There were even a few mornings at Rigel Castle when he'd come to Python’s chambers with an apologetic smile as he told of something that must be done that day. 

When Python opened his eyes in that Askr bed, limbs tangled in bandages, it was a small relief seeing Lukas perched by his bedside. His memories before going down at the end of that sword were dark – empty feelings in his chest and hopeless words in his head. He remembered charging forward, hoping for any sort of release from the pain. Any release. It was nice to have a familiar face to greet him after the ordeal.

Python rubbed a hand over his eyes. He groaned at the way his body ached. 

“Heya Luke! Heh, looks like…” the lighthearted greeting died away in his throat as he turned.

Lukas glared back.

His eyes burned above dark circles. His jaw clenched, making his lips a tight line. He sat with his shoulders hunched a few degrees, which looked drastic compared to his usually perfect posture. After only a moment of staring at the surprised patient, Lukas wrenched his gaze away.

"It's good you're awake." Despite what people said, Python never felt Lukas’s voice was cold. That is, until right now.

“I… yeah…” Python shifted to sit up, but a stinging across his torso made him gasp. Lukas’ expression twisted further. Python could only watch helplessly as the man stood. He made his way to the door. “Lukas –”

“I’ll fetch you a healer. They should have a look at you before you move about too much. I have much to do. I shall return later.”

“What,” Python forced a grin, regaining some of his usual nonchalance. “You don’t wanna stay and chat with a handsome knight in his sickbed for five more minutes?”

He was only met with that awful glare. 

“I do not.”

His footsteps echoed as he walked out into the hall. Python blinked. There was the sound of a conversation he couldn’t make out, then the steady sound as Lukas stalked away.

“You’re up!” Felicia bustled in, an armful of medical supplies teetering dangerously in her arms. “That’s wonderful!” 

“You’re tellin’ me. Thanks." Python gestured over her shoulder. “Hey, what’s his problem?” He’d meant for it to have some bite to it, but his voice only came out frightened. 

“Ah… Lukas hasn’t been… quite well the past few days.”

So he’s been passed out for days. “Hm.”

“After he carried you back here, he’s been even quieter than usual.” The healer let out a nervous laugh, gathering up some fresh bandages. “He destroyed about a dozen training dummies before Frederick banned him from the practice grounds.” Her eyes flicked over to Python. “Maybe he just feels guilty for your injury? No one saw what happened out there, but if he thinks it’s his fault that you could have died, perhaps…”

“No.” Python tipped his head back, closing his eyes. He sighed miserably. “He knows exactly whose fault it was.”