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therealvalkyrie · 4 years ago

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Through the Mirror: Part 1

my body, my music

Pairing/setting: Detective!Levi Ackerman x Female!Ghost!Reader, modern!AU within the Walls

Summary: When you’re murdered one Tuesday morning, can Levi piece together the true circumstances of your death with your help from beyond the grave?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: dead body, descriptions of blood, swearing, mentions of violence

AN: Welcome to my new series because I have no self control and can’t finish projects before starting others! Lemme just start off by saying updates may come pretty irregularly because I do have a lot of other WIPs to work on, but! I’m really excited about this idea and have a whole lot planned:) I seriously hope you enjoy. After all, who doesn’t love a good murder mystery? Drop into my DMs/askbox/comments/reblogs to let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

“Ah, shit! Hello!? I’m standing right here!”

The woman completely ignores you, stepping carefully over the puddle of blood and across your tiny living room. You cross your arms and pout. She ignores that, too.

“‘Scuse me, boys, let the experts take it from here,” she quips, gently pushing past the two detectives and crouching next to your body on the ground.

It’s ugly, but she’s probably seen worse, you muse from where you’re leaning against the door jamb. It’s only been lying there for a couple of hours, so at least you haven’t bloated to something out of an NCIS episode. Must smell horrid, though, judging by the mask the head detective has pulled over his face.

“So, you said the landlady called at about 7 am?” the ME inquires, cocking her head up to look at the detectives, nylon gloved hands held at the ready.

“7:07 exactly. Said a neighbor made a noise complaint, she came up to check it out, found signs of a forced entry, and called us.” It’s the taller blonde who speaks up, reading from an off-brand pocket notepad in his left hand. The kind you’d find on sale at Staples after Back-to-School season.

Interesting. You lean your head against the wall, eyes trained on the trio. You’d pegged the ill-tempered shorter one as in charge. Maybe he’s just the quiet type.

“Hmm, alright. Moblit, get off your ass and come take the pictures before we move her,” the woman calls to someone behind you, and you turn just in time to get a face full of Moblit’s chest as he walks towards you.

You cringe back with a “God, seriously?” to no response.

“Yes, sorry, right away, Hange!” Moblit hurries past- no, through -you, sidestepping the ottoman and the blood. It feels weird, like a strong wind, but not altogether unpleasant to have someone walk through you, you suppose. You look down at your chest to watch your misty body re-settle into itself before looking back at the group in your living room.

Were it not for the gruesome accents of blood flecked up the walls and your body riddled with stab wounds, you’d chuckle at how all four of them struggled to navigate the space. It’s cramped enough when it’s just you, fitting only a couch, a chair, a coffee table, your fern (Boris), and a narrow IKEA bookshelf. With the four of them plus a dead body, it’s like watching a freaking clown car.

“Sorry, excuse me, Captain, oh, was that your toe—?” Moblit’s struggling the most, having to move to capture different angles with his bulky camera. When he steps on the shorter man’s toe, he positively blanches, fumbling over himself to apologize while the ME laughs openly.

“God, alright, just,” the Captain pinches his delicate nose between a thumb and forefinger, then decides it’s better to wait in the kitchen. “C’mon, Gin, let’s chat in there.”

The Captain and the blonde detective both pass through you on the way back to the kitchen, but you only sigh and shake the tingly feeling of being incorporeal out of your fingers before following them.

“So,” the man called Gin takes the initiative, flipping back through his notebook and standing by the fridge. “I got statements from the landlady and two of the neighbors, numbers 303 and 304 down the hall. 301, directly across the hall, didn’t answer, but I got contact info from the landlady.” He pauses to read and scratch at his whiskery beard. “It was 304 who made the noise complaint, said she heard yelling this morning at around 5:45, and that she normally wouldn’t’ve said anything but it was, quote, the fourth goddamn time this week and I work the goddamn night shift, I deserve some fucking rest, unquote.”

You grin. Mrs. Sheffield was never one to mince words, something you appreciated when your ex-boyfriend got too loud and she took it upon herself to give him a piece of her mind. You catch a glimmer of a smile on the ornery Captain’s face above where he’s pulled his mask down before he gestures for Gin to keep going, keeping his thoughtful gaze fixed on the floor and his back against your countertop.

“Then after she called the landlady, she went to bed, only to be woken by us two hours later.”

“You said she called the landlady at 5:45 and that she works the night shift?”

Gin double checks his notes. “That’s right.”

“And she works at the hospital?”

“Yes, as a scrub nurse on the night shift.”

“But the night shift at the hospital ends at 6:30.”

“It was her night off,” you and Gin say at the same time before you catch yourself. They can’t hear you, anyway. This’d be a lot easier if they could.

Gin plows ahead. “But she says she keeps the same sleep schedule so she doesn’t, ah, fuck up her circadian rhythm.”

The Captain practically snorts at this, itching for a second under his silk cravat (can someone say pretentious) before settling back into a listening silence.

“303 says he didn’t hear a thing. College kid, looked exhausted. Said he was asleep the whole night after he got in at,” a page flip, “11 o’clock last night. Wasn’t much help, but looked genuinely upset when we told him about the murder. Wanted to know if there was anything he could do. Oh, but he did, uh, hang on,” more page flips, “He did tell us that he heard her and her boyfriend arguing a lot. Which is consistent with what Mrs. Sheffield told us.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you correct into thin air.

“A lover’s spat gone wrong, then,” Mr. Pretentious Captain muses. You huff in annoyance. A lover’s spat. If that’s all that this is written off as you’ll have some serious PD haunting to do. Chris may have been an angry, loud, disruptive manipulator, but he wouldn’t murder you. He didn’t murder you. “Any info on the whereabouts of the boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyf—!”

Blondie cuts you off, “Not currently, but we do have a name: Chris Henderson, works in admin down at the University. Lives across town closer to the Bridge.”

“Send some uniforms to bring him in for questioning. No arrests yet, tell ‘em to keep it friendly.”

“Right, I’ll put Dreyse and Bodt on it.”

“Dreyse, really?” Captain Cravat gives Gin an incredulous look.

“Hey, she may look like a ditz but she gets the job done. And she might get him to let down his guard,” Gin argues, grinning.

“Fine. I’ll meet them at the station, you stay here and make sure that mousy-haired dunce doesn’t fuck up my crime scene.”

“Hey, who’re you callin’ mousy-haired, short stack?” Hange actually sticks her whole head through yours this time, to butt into the conversation, and you shriek and jump away to the other side of your tiny kitchen, now sandwiched between Blondie and Shortstack. The latter twitches and swats at the air by his ear, as though to dislodge a fly, narrowly missing yours. You give him a weird look then turn back to listen to the ME. She’s leaning into the kitchen at an alarming angle, one hand on the doorframe and the other on the end of the gurney you assume is carrying your body. You shudder at the thought of being toted around in a dark, musty, humid glorified coat bag. Ugh.

“—takin’ this baby”-she slaps the gurney twice and you flinch-“back so I can get started on the autopsy, Moblit’s staying to take more pictures and collect forensics. If Eld’s stayin’ here with Mob, does that mean you’re catching a ride with me, Levi?” The question is addressed to Captain Grump on your right, who gives a heavy sigh and pushes off the counter.

“I guess so. I get to choose music though.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she’s wagging a finger, grinning. “My body, my music!”

“How about my body, my music?” you suggest, following Levi. “I deserve it after the day I’ve had.”

Again, Levi twitches and swats aggressively by his ear, nearly hitting you full in the face this time.

“You hear that, Gin? This place got a mosquito problem or something?”

“I do not have a mosquito problem!” and “No, sir, I don’t hear anything.” overlap in the air.

Captain Levi only grunts, then starts spouting instructions, which Gin notes down. “I want footage from any cameras in the building, and from the shops next door and across the street. I want statements from residents both upstairs and downstairs. I want names, addresses, and numbers of next of kin on my desk by noon, and lastly, I want no one, save for myself, you, shitty glasses, and mousy-hair, in or out of this apartment. Are we clear?”

“Crystal clear, sir.”

“Good. I’m leaving you Braus to help and to show her the ropes of this kind of thing. Even though she’s on the case, she will not set foot in this apartment. I don’t trust her not to leave breadcrumbs in the bloodstains.

“Yes, sir.”

“I expect an in-person report before shift-change this evening. See you then.” Then, he’s sweeping out of the kitchen in pursuit of Hange and the gurney, leaving you to scurry after. As you exit your home, he shoots a young auburn-haired woman in a crisp white blouse and wool slacks a look. “Braus. You’re with Gin. Don’t go in the apartment.”

She straightens up from leaning against the wall with a jolt and brushes croissant crumbs off her front. “Yes, Captain Levi, sir!” It’s slightly muffled by the pastry stuffed into her mouth.

“Tch.”

It’s fascinating watching how Levi and Hange manage to navigate the gurney down the narrow, twisting stairs of your walk-up apartment building. They’re both clearly used to this sort of thing, communicating only in short phrases and grunts when they encounter an obstacle. Occasionally, you offer up a pointer and watch as Levi becomes increasingly irritated.

“Watch out for Mr. Laslow’s cat, he likes to sneak up on ya!”

“Hange, do you hear— shit!” Levi hops to the side, narrowly avoiding the tabby tail as Tubbins McGee whisks past.

“It’s only a cat, Levi, dunno what’s got you so worked up today,” Hange teases, grin echoing your own as you chortle from the landing above them.

Eventually, they spill out onto the sidewalk and into the bright mid-day, and Hange groans loudly, stretching with both hands on her back.

“Ugh. Remind me not to die in there, I’d hate to put someone else through that.”

“Boof, tell me about it,” you commiserate.

“Noted,” Levi snarks.

Hange removes jingling keys from her pocket and unlocks the ME’s van parked along the sidewalk with a beep, then opens the back doors and steps in. You follow, leaning against the cool metal siding to watch.

When they both load into the front seats and the engine turns over, you lean forward between them to listen in.

“So,” Hange starts, smoothly pulling out into the road behind a silver minivan. “I’ll be able to give you a more solid answer in a couple hours, but my initial estimated time of death would be around 5:45 this morning.”

Levi nods, staring out the passenger window while he answers. “That lines up with the neighbor’s story.”

“Theories so far?”

“Well, there’s the boyfriend,” he muses, lifting a hand to rub his chin.

“Too obvious,” you say dully, not bothering to amend the lack of “ex” yet again. “Next theory.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then mutter, almost too quietly for you to catch: “Too obvious, hmm? Next theory....”

You’re momentarily flabbergasted, hand falling through the faux-leather seat back in your shock. Can he actually hear you? You shake out your hand while it re-materializes, tuning in to the conversation as Hange’s responding.

“—a little far-fetched, don’t you think? I mean, has there been any of that activity in this area recently?”

“Mm, I’ll have to touch base with Petra. If there has been, I think it’s worth looking into.”

“What is? Wait, go back,” you frantically plead, leaning further into his airspace. But Hange plows on.

“Oh, it’s Petra, now, hmm? Not Raggedy Anne anymore?” Her tone is teasing, and she glances over to Levi for a reaction.

He doesn’t give her one, just stares out the window pensively before reaching for the radio dial. The stereo blares up into an Oldies station, and you make a disgusted face along with Levi.

“You listen to this shit?”

“Hey, my dead body, my music, sweetcheeks. Don’t like it, you can thumb it back to the PD.”

“How about my dead body, my music?” you suggest again, reaching for the dial at the same time as Levi does. Just as his slender fingers touch it, your hand passes through the whole front console and the oldies are replaced with a terrifyingly loud static screeching.

“Christ, Levi, what’d you do?” Hange shrieks, lunging forward to punch the radio off as you remove your hand.

“Nothing! It just went berserk!”

They bicker while you stare at your offending palm. “Huh. Didn’t know I could do that.”

If you can actually interact with objects, at least to some degree, and if it turns out Levi can hear you.... This whole thing might be easier than you thought.

#levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #aot x reader #snk x reader #captain levi x reader #female!reader #hange zoe #moblit berner #eld gin #sasha braus #through the mirror #valkyrie writes #tw:murder #tw:violence #tw:dead body #tw:blood

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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Humans are Weird, “Rescue Without Reward”

I had been planning to write something similar to this for a long time, but @cyberstrikebeast also suggested it, so thought this was about the time to try it. Again, just something fun and easy I wrote really quick for today. Hope you all like it and have a good day :)

The planet was quite beautiful. The GA scientific team, brought on world with a protective detail of UNSC Harbinger marines, stood outside the open shuttle doors and stared around at the mesmerizing landscape.

They had landed on a wide outcropping of rock surrounded on all sides by shallow pools of still water sectioned off into ponds that, from above, looked like the organizational structure of cells seen under a microscope. The rock itself was almost pure white glittering brightly in the cold, distant light of the star. A range of small black hills rose over the pools in the distance, and the occasional monolith of rock rose form the landscape cutting high into the air at odd intervals framed magnificently by the shadow of a neighboring gas giant and its rocky concentric rings. Weather it was due to some strange atmospheric occurrence, or the way the star’s light hit the atmosphere, the sky was a striking pinkish purple cut across with clouds tinted blue.

The magnificent scene from above was reflected against the water below giving the alien landscape an even more alien quality.

Members of the GA research team stood wide eyed in wonder while their protective detail of humans muttered in appreciation for the scene.

“Damn that’s awesome.”

One of the humans pulled out some sort of device pointing it towards the scene before stowing it back in her pocket.

“Send that to me when we get back onboard the ship.” Someone was saying, and the agreement was quickly made.

The humans, serious about their duties moved into position around them. Along with the humans, they were accompanied by two Drev, one small and glittering with blue armor, while the other was absolutely towering and glittering with bright red armor. The humans formed around the GA team like the head of an arrow meters away from each other but still close enough to be in sight.

The commanding human, stayed on the inside three rows deep behind the arrowhead directing their movement as they moved out towards the pools of water. The first human was ordered to test the integrity of the ground pressing his boot against the narrow rock shelves which separated the pools. Finding that it was enough to hold his weight, he moved forward, and the others fanned out behind him making different ways across the little rock shelves.

When asked why they didn’t just walk in single file, the humans said something about avoiding an ambush. This idea made their companions rather nervous, but there was nothing for it at this point, and so they followed the strange, powerful predictors across the open landscape.taking samples and doing their best not to leave anything behind.

All of them had been decontaminated before leaving the ship, but still the human body was a biome of bacteria, so all the accompanying humans were forced to wear full face masks and goggles just to keep their germs away from a potentially delicate environment before it was tested to susceptibility. The last pool of water faded behind them, and they stepped foot into a thick growth of trees.

Of course to call them trees was a rather strange way of putting it. They were a little bit like tree roots in the way that they twisted, and kind of like trees in the way they reached towards the sky, but otherwise they were more like strange twisted skeletons rising from the ground. They had no leaves and no branches really simply twisted black forms rising from the ground a good ten to twenty feet splitting at odd intervals into their “branches, which plunged back downwards into the soil covered all over in patches of turquoise moss.

They were growing in such a way that you could walk underneath them, and through their twisting branches. The ground was sort of mossy, bright green in most cases with a splash of purple. Aside from the trees they were these, giant bright-orange ferns that towered into the air and cast themselves downwards under their own weight bringing the ground into shadow against the sun. They were placed at distant intervals from each other leaving enough room for the strange tree-like things, and a lot of the forest floor moss.

There were thousands of other little ferns, some in spiral shapes and others, in bright blue, which looked like giant blades of grass rising into the air patterns of dark black cutting up their surfaces like tiger stripes.

“Ah! Don’t you dare touch that.” The leading human ordered, and the marine at the front of the column withdrew her hand wilting.

“Yeah I know it looks cool, but it could be poisonous.” Their leader walked up and rested a hand on her shoulder, “It’s alright,...” His voice lowered, “If I am being honest with you, I want to touch it too.”

The GA members looked on in worry at the human’s conversation. They had gotten into some sticky situations, with this particular crew, from touching strange plant life in the past, and they were not interested in repeating such a situation. Luckily for them, the humans found some semblance of self control and kept their hands to themselves as they moved through the strange forest.

A white critter with one leg and one eye blinked warily at them from under a fern before leaping away into blackness.

The humans watched it go with mild fascination as the creature used it’s coil to bounce off the ground and into the bushes.

The temperature hovered a few degrees below freezing despite the tropical-esque plantlife that seemed to dominate the forest. It was hard to discern just how the plants survived in such an environment, but that is what they intended to learn. A low fog rolled in at some point plunging them into an eerie world of uncertainty.

With some trepidation, the humans constricted their triangle in order to see each other through the mist.

It was at that precise moment that they heard it, the strange sound rising on the air. It was close by. An echoing trumpeting bugle that rattled and wavered before dying back into darkness. In response, all the humans hunched into a low crouch weapons at the ready. It had a strange almost…. Metallic noise to it as if made by a rundi ship, but not quite.

It was difficult to explain as none of them had ever heard such a sound before.

A few moments past, and then they sound came again rising in the air and then dying back into a sort of thrumming gurgle.

The GA scientists shifted nervously.

One moved forward approaching the humans as they talked quietly to each other through their earpieces. One of the members tugged on the elad human’s hand, and he turned to look blinking at him with his single eye.

The expression was disconcerting, “What is that?” They wondered.

The humans looked at each other with a shrug, “We aren’t entirely sure right now.”

Again came the low bellowing rattling through the trees and echoing through the forest.

“Some kind of animal/” One of the other humans wondered.

“That would be my first guess.” Said the one-eyed human

“Should we head out?” They asked glancing into the fog and towards that echoing sound.

The lead human paused head tilted to the side as the sound came again, “No…. it doesn't seem to be moving in this direction. In fact, it doesn’t seem to be moving at all.” The aliens looked on in surprise at the human’s confidence. Of course they could all hear the noise, but theirs was not so tuned as to locate or detect where it was in the environment. It could be anywhere for all they knew.

The human kept his head tilted and continued to listen, “it sounds…. In… distress.”

GA representatives looked on in consternation, “how could you possibly think to tell that. You’ve never heard the creature before. Perhaps it is a mating call, perhaps it is hunting, and perhaps it is giving birth. There could be any number of reasons.”

The human shook his head with a frown, “I…. something just feels off about it. Hard to explain…. I think we should at least head in that direction to see what is going on.”

To the incredulity of the watching aliens, the rest of the humans agreed, though hesitantly, shouldering their weapons and forming into firing positions behind the first human.

With her weapon shouldered, the small blue Drev walked over and allowed the leading human to climb onto her back bracing his weapon against her shoulder and he directed her to the trees. The GA representative hung back towards the back of the group as the humans made their way into the fog. It’s not like it mattered though, if they were forced to run the humans would be much faster, and would outstrip them in minutes anyway.

As they walked, the distant bellowing grew louder and louder until they broke through the ferns and fog at the edge of a clearing. The humans stopped just ahead.

“Sweet Jupiter.” One of them muttered.

His expletives came at the behest of a strange scene. To the shock of the GA the leading human’s guess at the strange sound was correct. There was in fact a creature, that did, appear to be in distress. It was a strange creature tall and gangly with four long legs, or what they guessed to be long, and a short sloping back.

It had a long neck and head whose muzzle was long and conical tapering towards a shallow point at the end. As it trumpeted, it would tilt its head back and emit the noises from the small round mouth at the end of it’s cone, face. The head itself was topped by a strange array of what must have been either antlers or horns, many ending in sharp bladed leaf-like points.

On the creature’s back this same leaf like pattern continued, but with long feathered protrusions that flared when it bellowed sticking upwards and outwards two feet on either side.its body was furless, so there was another mystery as to how it survived in the cold, but it’s skin was a strange flower orange color hinting towards pink, very bright and shocking against the mud and the mist.

They could only assume the creature was tall based on its neck and body as much of it was hidden below a gelatinous mass of frozen mud which shifted and squelched as it struggled unmoving and getting nowhere.

It bellowed another mournful cry.

The humans had stopped in the clearing a few stepping closer to get a better look.

The GA representatives relaxed. If it was trapped, than it wouldn't be able to hurt them.

However, the humans began to move closer, causing the GA representatives to shift nervously in their places.

Seeing the humans the animal began to bellow wildly and thrash, and who could blame it as the predatory species moved around in a tight circle examining the creature.

“We should move on.” One of the GA reps stated nervously as the humans returned to their beginning circle.

The main human frowned at them, “what? ANd just leave it here.”

The GA scientists looked at him in consternation, “Well of course we are going to leave it here, what else would we do.”

The human held out his hands to either side, “Rescue it obviously. We can’t just let it die there, whatever it is.”

“Commander, it is no place of ours to intervene with the natural order.” “Clearly you don’t know humans very well.” he shot back, and the other humans began to mutter in agreement.

“Commander, what reason would we ever have to rescue that thing. What would be the point. It would only waste time energy and resources, and just look at the thing. If you get any closer it will gore you.”

With a stubborn shake of the head, the human glowered at them, “because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Who said that.”

“I did.” The human responded petulantly before turning to look at his men, “We are going to need tow cables, and anything else that we can come up with. Maybe a shovel if you have one. We aren’t going to leave this poor thing here to die.”

Behind them the creature was still thrashing in the bog as the humans began to gather their material, a few of them running back towards the landing shuttle to gather supplies they had neglected to bring, unknowing what was to happen. The GA scientists watched in consternation and a mild bit of annoyance. It didn’t make any sense, there was no reason for humans to be out here doing what they were doing. They had no idea what the creature was or what it could do, and for all they knew it would rip them in half as soon as it was able. In fact, this may just be how it lured it’s prey in before drinking their blood.

They had no way of knowing.

But still the humans insisted on doing what they were doing. Ropes and cables were brought. The humans discussed the best way to retrieve the creature. The commander took suggestions drew up plans in the dirt and offered to do the most dangerous part of the operation, seeing that it had been his idea to begin with, not that the other humans were disagreeing with him, and his choice.

The scientists watched from the forest as the human slowly began approaching the creature. He had the rope in one hand opened into a wide loop that had been tied by one of the marines. He approached slowly foot by foot. It was clear he did not go without notice, and the creature began to balk and shriek as he approached.

It jerked its head sending its knife like bladed horns flying in all directions. The human had to step back more than once out of the way of the thrashing creature.

“Shhh, shh. Its ok.” He was saying, doing his best to sooth the creature that didn’t seem intent on being soothed. This went on for more than an hour as the human attempted to get closer to the creature only to be driven away by the things bladed horns. Slowly, however, the creature began to lose energy bugling less, and slumping deeper down into the mud. The human grew closer and closer before eventually, reaching out and tossing the coil over the creature’s antlers.

It didn’t move but lowed piteously.

“Shh it’s ok. We’re going to have you out in no time. Just relax.” The human urged slowly reaching out to adjust the rope over the thing’s antlers.

His hand was right next to the creature’s multiple eyes.

It’s sides heaved in fear.

The human stepped back and motioned to the marines who moved forward to further secure the animal.

The commander reached out hesitantly brushing his fingers over the things neck. It recoiled at his touch.

“Shh. You’ll be ok.” He muttered resting the flat of his hand on the creature’s muscled neck. At first it shied away from him, but eventually relaxed still breathing heavily, eyes wide with fear.

Establishing a solid connection, the commander ordered his men back into position before stepping away to join them, “Come on, pull.” He grabbed the rope along with them, and together the humans began to pull. A small group of them wasn’t nearly enough to do more than cause the animal to bugle.

He ordered some of the others over, “Just pull enough to loosen it up, and then we can get closer so we don’t hurt it’s neck.” They agreed, and another group of marines walked up grabbing the rope and began to haul on it. Together the humans worked in unison rocking back and forth chanting in unison as they began to pull. If they had thought that one powerful human was impressive, the might of at least six was greater than impressive.

There was a sharp sucking sound as the creature’s legs shifted in the mud, and they lurched back.

“Hold it there.” He ordered three marines motioning two others with him as he moved forward.

He came in first between the creature and his men flexing his gloved hands, “IT’s alright, you’re almost out.” The creature just looked at him with wide frightened eyes.

He reached out delicately wrapping his hands around the base of its horns. He was just inches away from it’s huffing mouth.

“On my order…!... PULL!” They began to pull again and he gripped the creature tight hauling backwards with his feet digging into the soil. They strained and pulled for the longest time dirt giving inch by inch.

It would have taken ages if they ever did manage.

Until the two Drev took hold of the rope. They clearly didn’t understand what was going on either, but they decided to help.

ONe tug, a single tug. The mud made a sucking noise, the humans staggered back, and the commander flopped to his back still gripping the beast’s antlers. The creature was pulled bodily out of the mud, it’s long dangling legs stiff rigid it’s head lying on the commander’s chest it’s antlers just inches from his face.

He was breathing hard staring up at the razor edges.

With some difficulty, the human pulled back undoing the rope form the creature’s antlers as it lay in the mud before making a prudent retreat backwards. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. Using the rope he had taken from the antlers, he secured a loop around the front feet of the creature, strange, with three toes looking almost like fingers two facing forward and one facing back. Once standing, it seemed as if the animal would walk on the knuckles of the front two fingers and stabilize itself with the back appendage…. Like a thumb.

That done, he ordered the marines to pull very slowly and gently dragging the animal up onto the bank before retrieving his rope and making a hasty exit back towards his men.

The creature didn’t move for a very long time before slowly lifting it’s head and folding it’s legs. It sat there for an even longer time appearing almost confused as it turned it’s head to look at the watching humans. It had probably expected the predatory animals to go right ahead and eat it, but here it was…. Free.

It let off a soft bugle, and this time the call was returned from the distance.

As they watched, the creature urged to it’s four legs awkward with what appeared to be two knee joints as well as an ankle. The creature was quite tall when it stood upright.

It was watching them.

The humans grew very still.

The thing hesitantly stepped towards them leaning closer with its long neck. Something like a strange white tongue flicked from it’s circular mouth. They stood facing each other for many seconds eventually broken up by the call just outside the clearing.

All together they turned as the thing’s companion stepped into the trees. This one was a light peach color, almost as tall as the first but missing the antlers. Instead it had many of those long clear feathers dangling from it’s head and reaching towards the ground.

Around it’s feet there pranced at least ten very tiny orange creatures that looked like them in a vague sort of way. Like how a caterpillar kind of looks like a butterfly if you ignore the wings. Humans and GA scientists alike remained silent, watching as the tall horned beast took a few wobbly steps towards it’s little family turning its head to look at them one more time before vanishing into the trees.

It made no sense really. There was no reason for the behavior of the humans. The act itself didn’t reward them anything. In fact, they lost both time and resources trying to help the creature. The commander risked his life and limb against something that could easily have eviscerated him if it had really wanted too.

What they didn’t understand is that this behavior is quite common in humans.

Perhaps it has something to do with their great amount of empathy, but whatever the case.

The good of humanity doesn’t like to leave anyone to suffer weather it be human alien or beast.

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia #HUMANS ARE WERID

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elaboratedbee · 5 years ago

Text

Bigby x Reader

Pairing: Bigby Wolf x Reader (i changed this to be gender neutral!)

Summary: bigby deals with his rapidly growing feelings for the new Fable that moved into the apartment above his, a nymph. (alternatively, you give bigby flowers)

Rating: E (hella fluff)

Word Count: 4208 (idk how it got long it just did i’m so sorry)

Note: hey guys, this is my second imagine! :) I just love this wolfman rn and I literally cannot wait until s2! i’m a new blog so pls feel free to interact, or request something, bc corona has given me hella free time ;)

You Belong Among The Flowers

You

As you set down the last box in your new apartment, you let a sense of accomplishment wash over you. It hadn’t been easy to save enough money to afford an apartment in the Woodlands, but you worked hard managing your business, growing flowers and owning a florist as well as growing fruit and vegetables which you sold to the grocery stores in Fabletown. When Snow had informed you of the two new apartments that had become available, you couldn’t help but fall in love with the idea. The place you were living before was a little sketchy (read: it was a total shithole, and you were definitely close to getting stabbed on several occasions).

This way, you would be closer to the allotments you had managed to buy right at the edge of Fabletown, closer to Snow who you had thoroughly enjoyed getting to know during the first couple of months of her deputy mayorship, and it was a hell of a lot safer. The Woodlands had the extra insurance of being the home of the big, bad wolf. Fabletown harboured some pretty stupid criminals, but there weren’t many people stupid enough to target the apartments across the hall from the Sheriff.

The place needed some life in it, as soon as was possible, however. The stark and empty room made you uncomfortable, and as soon as you set your first fern down on one of the shelves, you immediately felt better. The best part about the place, which really convinced you to part with most of your savings, was the balcony. You couldn’t wait to have it bright with life, a practical jungle on your doorstep. A flower nymph with no flowers was not a happy being, so that was the first thing you got to work on, planting your seeds and setting out your pots.

It was already falling dark by the time you were done, but you were more than content to spend the night on a mattress in the middle of the floor now that you were surrounded by, at least the beginnings of, a flower garden.

Bigby

By the time Bigby reached his cramped, little apartment in the evening, it was usually long after darkness had fallen over Fabletown. As he turned the key in the stiff lock, a sigh escaped his lips. He’d been tracking a car thief all day and had not been successful. The detective hated going home with a case hanging over him; there was no way he would be able to get any real sleep while all of his thoughts and theories were racing through his head.

Bigby opened the door, dim yellow light from the hallway seeping into the room. The lingering smell of smoke from his Huff and Puffs and the scent of whiskey hit his nose even harder once the door was opened, and even he grimaced slightly at the smell. He flicked on the light and took his phone off of the ringer, a habit that he’d developed long ago. It was nice to be enveloped in peace and quiet in the evening. It was the way he liked it, he told himself. Somewhere in the very back of his mind, he knew that he really made himself unavailable because that way he could pretend that being alone was a conscious decision that he made.

Making his way to the small window in his living space, he opened it in an attempt to allow some fresh (well, as fresh as it got for New York city) air into his apartment. Bigby froze as an unexpected scent was the first to hit him, and he inhaled deeply. It was a floral scent, different kinds of mingling together. Some overpowered the less aromatic ones, but Bigby’s sense of smell was heightened enough that he could pick out each individual smell and he traced it to somewhere above him. The pitch-black darkness outside made it a futile goal to find out where it was coming from, so he simply stood and basked in it, sure that it would be gone in the morning. He assumed that someone in a nearby apartment had received a bouquet of flowers and had left it on their windowsill. It was concerning that they had left their window open, he noted, even the Woodland building wasn’t particularly safe.

A bittersweet pang of homesickness ran through his body like a shiver, pooling in his chest and making his heartache. Mostly, he avoided thinking about the Homelands, as it always resulted in the sad longing that he was feeling now. But with the scent in his nose so reminiscent of the beautiful woodlands and sprawling idyllic spaces that they had once called home, there was no way he could avoid it now. Once the initial sadness passed, he allowed himself to relax into the sense of security and joy that were stronger than any negative feelings when he thought back to their home and all of its splendour. Although the person, or monster, that Bigby had been back then was a source of regret, he could not deny that he’d do almost anything to trade the dirty, concrete cityscape outside of his window for hills and mountains, forests and rivers.

For the first time that he could remember, he didn’t reach for a cigarette or a tumbler of whiskey when he sat down in his chair to rest at last. Instead, he inhaled deeply, and let the smell of flowers lull him to a restful sleep.

When he awoke, he was pleased to find that the pleasant smell persisted, which made him considerably more optimistic about the day ahead. There was one lead that he thought to chase up, but he figured that he ought to fill in Snow on the recent happenings before making his way out. She was much busier now, since the Crooked Man. Things weren’t perfect, he didn’t think they would ever be, but they were certainly better. Snow was making changes, just like she had promised to herself and everyone that she would. When Fables came through the door of the business office, their wishes weren’t always granted, but they were always heard.

Bigby thought that was a step in the right direction.

After showering and getting dressed, he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the correct floor. The line for the business office was already fairly long, despite the early hour of the morning and he resolved not to take up too much of Snow’s time. Ignoring the eye rolls and general disgruntlement from the Fables in the hallway as he bypassed the line, he made his way into the office. Snow was busying herself with a stack of papers, looking rather stressed at it all. He didn’t like to see her that way, but he did prefer it to the look of frustration and helplessness that he caught glimpses of when she was working as an assistant.

Opening his mouth to announce his presence, he promptly closed it as something took him by surprise. On Snow’s desk was a vase of flowers, a big and beautiful bouquet. Proud white roses were peppered with baby's breath, all sitting on a luscious green bed of eucalyptus and hydrangeas. It was perfect, it was if it were an incarnation of Snow herself. He looked at it and realised, at that moment, exactly why people gave each other flowers, he had never had a reason to consider it.

He must have been staring for a lot longer than it felt like because what finally broke him from his reverie was the sound of Snow’s laughter, soft and musical. Frowning at the sight of her mocking him, he flipped her off, which only made her laugh more. “Who’s the secret admirer?” He inquired, “I’ll need their address too, you know, just in case.”

Snow glared at him.

“I’m kidding.” Bigby placated her, raising his hands in mock surrender. The smell of this bouquet was different from the one coming through his window, telling him that it was a different set of flowers, but surely the giver of these was also the source of the others. It seemed like far too much of a coincidence, otherwise.

With a pointed look, Snow said, “you already know it. I told you last week that someone new was moving into the Woodlands! Since Crane is gone, we renovated his hideous penthouse into two new apartments.” Even the mention of his name raised Bigby’s hackles and got his blood boiling, so he could only imagine the disgust that his friend must feel whenever he’s brought up.

“Right,” Bigby agreed, hazily recalling the conversation that he had definitely not paid his full attention to. It was no wonder that Bigby had missed them moving in, considering that he usually leaves the Woodlands in the early hours of the morning and returns in . . . the early hours of the morning. Yikes.

“I told them about the apartment, so they sent me these as a way to say thanks,” Snow explained, gesturing toward the flowers.

He wondered what their connection was to the flowers, whether they just liked them or whether they were a part of their history, their story. Once again, Bigby opened his mouth only to be interrupted by an inpatient sounding knock on the door. Snow jerked her head towards it before throwing an apologetic smile towards the Sheriff. “I’m sorry, Bigby. I have a lot to do. I should probably get going with these meetings.”

That was his cue to leave, so the wolf nodded at her and made an exit from the office. He was busy, too, and things were never really peaceful in Fabletown, so it was probably for the best that he got going, but he couldn’t help but wish he had asked for a name.

He was soon to find out, however, only a couple of days later. Taking a long drag from his cigarette, Bigby used his free hand to open his mailbox. It was more of a tradition at this point, considering he couldn’t actually recall the last time he received a letter in the post that wasn’t a bill.

An out of tune ding announced the arrival of the elevator but Bigby didn’t turn around, not wanting to invite conversation. He had just placed the car thief into custody, and Snow was going to arrange a trial for tomorrow. The system was much fairer now, more democratic and he liked it that way. Being the final authority on the Crooked Man last time was some heavy stuff, and there was no way to make everyone happy. Now, there was a jury, a real trial, fair sentencing. Fabletown was slowly but surely dragging itself off the ground and trying to become a more just place, a more safe place. If Bigby could do anything to make sure of it, he would.

Finally looking up, he turned his head to see which of his neighbours had joined him at the letterbox. It was you.

He almost choked on the cigarette in his mouth as he regarded you, and when he took it out and crushed it underfoot, he could smell you, too. Without the overpowering scent of smoke under his nose, the floral scent that he had been succumbing to every night since the first overtook him and he felt a strange constriction in his chest.

You were beautiful, ethereal, but in a much different way than he could usually describe. It was the quirk of your mouth as you offered him a grin and the glint behind your eyes that suggested you were laughing at your own joke internally. “Sheriff.” You addressed him by his formal title and Bigby was torn. He wanted to hear you say it again, over and over. Sherriff. You said it with respect, with admiration even. It wasn’t an insult, a sarcasm, unlike when most of the Fables addressed him with his title. But he also wanted to hear you say his name. It was this desire that returned his ability to speak.

“Call me, Bigby.”

You closed your mailbox, holding your letters in your hand and smiled wider, introducing yourseld in return.

“I’ll see you around, Bigby.”

You were walking away, and Bigby, for the first time, was struck with the desire to stop you, make you stay, talk just a little longer.

“I, uh, I like the flowers.” He managed to growl out. You looked a little taken aback at his tone and he cursed himself, but you recovered and offered him yet another smile. He noted how you gave them out like it cost nothing.

“Oh, Snow’s?” You prompted him for more information.

“Yeah, and I can,” he made a vague gesture towards his face, “smell the ones you have in the windowsill. From my apartment.”

Your eyebrows raised a fraction in surprise, and he felt a weird sense of pride. What the fuck is wrong with you? He thought to himself.

“Really? I’ll keep them there,” you were so sincere, you made such a simple comment sound like a promise. He nodded, unable to think of yet another reason to delay you and altogether confused about why he was freaking out the way that he was. You stepped into the elevator and was gone.

You

You stepped off of the elevator and into your apartment, placing the letters down onto a table. The place wasn’t huge but you had made the best of it. The walls had a fresh coat of white paint, making the place seem more open and bright, the furniture was simple, mainly second hand, but it fits. Best of all, your beloved balcony. You guessed that’s what the Sheriff had confused for the flowers on your window-sill.

Great, leafy ferns and potted plants adorned your apartment all over, but the balcony was the centre of it all, and it was only just beginning. You had planted all manner of things, and you were only getting started. Due to your being a flower nymph, they grew faster, strong and healthy, and the seeds that you planted mere days ago were beginning to form buds, and even open up. The scent was sweeter. The plants were happier, but you couldn’t really explain that sort of thing to another Fable. They would laugh at the notion, but you could feel it.

Moving to the city had been hard for you, really hard. The nymphs were the caretakers of the homelands, the trees, rivers, lakes and plants. The animals, too, even if they didn’t always know it. To have it ripped away was more painful than anything else you could have experienced. It wasn’t just a home that had been taken from you, it was a part of yourself that had been left behind.

Your mind drifted to your recent interaction as you watered them with care, and you felt your heart rate pick up when you thought of the Sheriff. He was tired, you could tell, but he seemed kind enough. It was a common mistake that nymphs only took care of the plants in the forest, when really they guarded the animals, too. It gave you more of a read on the beastially inclined residents, and you could almost feel the weight on Bigby’s shoulders as you stood next to him.

I like the flowers.

The compliment played over in your mind. It had taken you by surprise, considering what all of the other residents had told you about the big, bad wolf. You trusted Snow’s word above the others when she told you about him, that he was a man that wanted to change, had changed. He wanted to make this place better, she had told you, just like her. But even Snow had grumbled to you a few times about how stubborn, how hot-headed and how harsh he could be.

Over the next couple of days, he was stuck on your mind. You paid far more attention to the coming and going of the wolf than before, realising for the first time that he was rarely home at all. Could this really be the same man that everyone complained about downtown? The one that Fables still questioned as to whether or not he really cared at all? Every time you passed him, you sensed his exhaustion, his frustration. His loneliness. But there was something else when you passed him, too. This little spark of joy and excitement. You knew it must be the scent of the flowers, what else could it be? He had already remarked on it.

Deciding enough was enough, you went about making him the perfect bouquet.

Throughout the week, you worked on your gift. You arranged it untraditionally in a long, thin wooden box which was overflowing with greenery. Succulents and hydrangeas were scattered amongst them like stars in the night sky. Wild berries shone like jewels, clinging to their stems. Most importantly, bright white lily of the valleys hung like bells. You picked them because of their sweet scent, hoping that the wolf would enjoy them. They were common in the homelands, and you wondered if it would remind him of the place.

Finally satisfied, you picked up the arrangement late one evening and stepped into the elevator. Am I being crazy? You thought to yourself as your grip on the box tightened. You just thought that all of the things the Sheriff did for Fabletown deserved a little recognition. It was the least you could do say thanks, right?

Arriving at the correct floor, you took a deep breath before knocking on Bigby’s door. It was a little late for a house call, you realised, but he wasn’t home at any other hour. The wolf opened the door, scowling until he saw you. Confusion replaced the general displeasure on his face until he noted what was in your hands. “Oh,” his voice was full of realisation, “I can hand those to Snow if you want, but if you just wait until tomorrow, she’ll be back in her office,” he explained to you.

What? You realised quickly that he thought the flowers were meant for Snow and you shook your head, a little saddened that he didn’t even think that they could be for him.

“Actually, Sheriff, they’re for you. For your windowsill.”

The man’s face went completely blank while he processed the information, which was kind of scary. The guy really didn’t give anything away.

“For me?” He repeated, sounding almost suspicious as he raised his hand to his mouth and removed his cigarette, seemingly wanting to inhale the flowers instead.

“Yep.” You assured him firmly, “you said you liked the scent of them so I thought you might like some of your own.” With your words, the energy of the wolf changed. The exhaustion and anger faded substantially and he finally seemed warm, almost as happy as your flowers. You seized the opportunity. “You mind if I come in? I can tell you about watering them and stuff.”

Bigby failed to hide his face a little more this time, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I don’t have anything to offer you, and the place is a real shithole.” He warned you.

“I didn’t come for anything, I just want to bring you these,” you answer and he relents, stepping backwards and opening the door to allow you in. You expected the smell of cigarettes to be worse, but he had an open window that seemed to be helping with that. You set the flowers down on the windowsill and turned to face him. He was closer than you had expected, and a blush broke out onto your cheeks at the proximity of the wolf to you. You are overwhelmed with the desire to step even closer, but you stay put. The man was already freaked out, he didn’t need your crush to make it any worse.

“Why?” He seemed reluctant to ask like he had been trying to answer the question himself but just couldn’t figure out the answer.

“To say thank you. You do a lot for us, especially those of us who live in The Woodlands. I think of how much safer this place is just because you live here. And you said you liked them.”

“I don’t exactly do anything other than be the Big, Bad Wolf.” He points out, and you catch a cutting undertone to his argument.

“Bullshit.” He seems surprised at your choice of words and raises an amused eyebrow at you. “You get up at the crack of dawn and you get home little before then, sometimes not at all. You single-handedly protect all of the Fables in this town. You deserve a hundred flowers.” You pointed this all out casually, shrugging your shoulders but Bigby looks deeply uncomfortable. You wondered why he was so tense as you pointed out all he does.

You wondered if anybody does.

Bigby

He thought that if you come any closer to him then he won’t be able to stop himself from kissing you. He also thought that he can’t move away.

The scent of the flowers, your scent, was making him feel almost dizzy. It was hard to believe that you were in his apartment, that you brought him flowers. You brought him flowers, you brought him flowers, you brought him flowers. Ever since they spoke, such a small, meaningless conversation, he hadn’t been able to get you off his mind. Sure that you had forgotten it by the next day, he felt like such an idiot replaying it in his mind before he could fall asleep at night.

But you hadn’t. You had remembered what he said and brought him flowers.

“Thank you.” He realised he hadn’t even said that yet, and he turned away to admire them, and so that he didn’t have to look at you anymore. Clenching his jaw, he implored himself not to ruin this already, to just control himself, like he had with Snow once upon a time. But this time, it seemed impossible.

Then, you touched his arm.

He was so acutely aware of your hand on his skin the whole time that it was there that he could barely hear what you were saying. All of the nice things you were saying about him, falling on deaf ears. God, he felt pathetic. Was that really all it took to turn him stupid? One compliment, one touch.

He hadn’t been touched in a while, though. Not like this. By someone who wasn’t trying to hurt him, or calm him down. Not by someone who just wanted to be close to him.

Fuck it, he thought, and stepped closer, leaning into your touch. There were inches between you now.

You

All of a sudden, he was in front of you. His skin was warm to your touch, and his eyes were simmering with something. You think back over the last couple of days. The way you had watched him, the way you’d thought of him. How you had spent hours finding the perfect flowers, arranging them just so. That wasn’t gratitude or friendly admiration and you knew it. You wondered if he knew it.

You looked up and met his eyes, they were almost gold now that you were close, more than brown. That’s the last thing you remember thinking before you weren’t thinking anything, but feeling the wolf’s mouth on yours. His hand comes up to cup your face, holding you close and the other hand moves to your waist. It’s needy, and almost desperate as the both of you simply give in to whatever desire you were pushing back.

His face was rough, and you delighted in the coarseness of his hands, a shiver running through your body. He invaded all of your senses, occupies all of you for the minutes, or hours that the two of you are interlocked. The sharpness of his teeth on your bottom lip, gone as quickly as it came prompted you to gasp ever so slightly, allowing his tongue passage into your mouth. When you finally pulled away, air a terrible, evil necessity to you now, you dared to open your eyes and reassure yourself that you weren’t dreaming. Bigby was still pressed up against you, his eyes a brighter gold than they had been before and his breathing urgent.

“I like the flowers,” he chokes out, “I really, really like the - “

You cut him off by grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down towards you once again, rolling your eyes slightly at how awkward he was. You’d figure it out. Kissing him breathless, you finally released him and met his eyes. “I like you too, Bigby.”

The wolf shared a genuine smile with you, one that reached all the way up to his eyes and flashed his sharp incisors. You wanted to see it again, a million times.

You were going to need more flowers.

#the wolf among us #bigby wolf #bigby wolf x reader #bigby x reader #twau #imagine #bigby wolf imagine #my underappreciated baby #someone give him a hug #the wolf among us fanfic #bigby wolf fanfiction #the wolf among us imagine

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kyberphilosopher · 4 years ago

Text

Kalon

“So long as you’re with me, I know I’ll never have to do anything alone.”

Word Count: 2091

Pronunciation: KAL-en. (n.)... the ideal of physical and moral beauty especially as conceived by the philosophers... beauty that is more than skin deep.

Rey really wanted to pound her fist against the ship in her frustration.

The Millennium Falcon had accomplished so much throughout its existence- it was the infamous ship that had made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs! It had outrun Imperial starships. Not the local bulk cruisers, of course, but the big Corellian ships. Sleek and uniquely shaped, she was fast enough for anyone.

But Rey thought she knew better. Of course, she appreciated the ship for what it was already. Anything that someone put so much effort into working with and creating was something that she could get behind. However, the thought popped into her mind that maybe there was a way to make it better.

Just a little rewiring! Maybe a new paint job? Nothing too extreme, of course. The girl would never want to change the entire essence of something with so much value- sentimental or otherwise. Rey preferred keeping the vessel of both her friends memories and her own the same. Safe and secure.

But this task was proving to be a tad more difficult than anticipated.

It spiraled quickly enough. A little bit of rewiring turned into having to replace certain bits, which turned itself into having to fix an oil leak. How the Falcon hadn’t exploded into thousands of little shards was beyond Rey, by this point. It continuously seemed that with every adjustment she made [or attempted to make] morphed into a new problem that might’ve not even been worth it. It didn’t help much that that Poe Dameron guy would make a face or a snide comment as he watched her work. He had even made offers to help Rey, which she slapped aside each time.

You watched as the girl finally slammed her palms against the side of the thing. With grit teeth and a bit of a huff, a few strands of brown locks fell down as she took a step back. Rey always was a bit of an emotional person, and sometimes her anger and frustration got hard to ignore.

You shift against the wall you lean on, eyes glued to her. Rey looks incredibly pretty, however flushed with irritation. She’s been at it all day, and the exertion is rising in time with the setting sun. The sky, once a brilliant, bright blue, has faded into pastel shades of tangerine and raspberry and lemon. It’s warm today, adding to the thin layer of sweat spreading across her shoulders and palms. You were curious to see how her hazel eyes would make themselves appear in the light, but she was turned away from you.

“Girls gonna be the death of us,” Poe grumbled as he walked passed you, shaking his head and jabbing his thumb. His expression was one of a ‘can you believe her?’.

You crane your head over your shoulder to watch the man march away and into the hangar. You’d be willing to bet that he’s going to complain to General Organa, who will say some sassy words of wisdom in response.

When you turn your head back, Rey has her hands on the sides of her hips. She looks the Falcon up and down, her white robes billowing slightly in the summer like wind. You’re not sure what she’s going to do next, but you’ve observed her enough to know she’s not exactly a quitter.

Your relationship with the Jedi was a bit of a strange one. It wasn’t bad by any means. You weren’t quite... “friends”, but you weren’t really acquaintances either. It was more like the outer circle of friendship, where things are soft and warm but still somewhat mysterious. Rey didn’t come to you for things like she would Finn or Leia, and you didn’t talk to her nearly as often as Poe or Tallie. But you watched her sometimes out of appreciation and security, wondering if she was aware how beautiful she looked in the light of the sun.

It takes a lot of bravery to talk to someone you admire, whether you know them well or not. People would be jealous of all the guts it took for you to push yourself from leaning by the entrance, and starting towards the girl.

“Need help?” you question politely. Rey jumps and turns to you, startled but not upset. “Sorry.”

Rey looks at you for only a second before turning back to the ship. Her brown eyes rake up and down, looking at the exposed wires and vents and all the bits she’d happened to destroy. “No, no. I don’t think so,” Rey decides to say with a sigh.

“You sure?” you say, turning to look at the structure ahead of you as well. “I mean, not to brag, but I think I know a lot about YT Leight Freighters.”

This draws a flash of a smile from her. She feels the stress and annoyance of working at the ship all day sinking away slowly with the light bit of humor. She looks down at her feet before squinting her eyes in the sunlight. “Can you toss me that Hydrospanner?” she says, pointing to the ground by your feet.

You bend down and pick it up right away from the cluster of tools, tossing it to her. As she catches it sloppily and turns it over in her palms, she scoffs in that way that people do to show a kind form of surprise. “Finn can never do that right.”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly. “Find a tool?”

Rey looks up at you, smiling. “You’d be surprised.”

You grin softly at each other in the light, the Falcon casting dim shadows across the place but not diminishing the warmth that you felt. The nervousness in your stomach was ever present, and you were somewhat afraid of saying something wrong with her.

“So are you going to make any adjustments to the inside?” you ask, peeling your eyes from hers and admiring the bulk of the famous ship. You can see all the little divots and scratches embedded in the metal, each one telling a story. You can see why she would’ve wanted to keep reparations to a minimum.

Rey strains as she goes to tighten a screw on her tip-toes. Her brow furrows and a bead of sweat appears on the right. “No, I don’t think so. Not yet, at least.”

You nod in understanding. “Always wanted to be a pilot,” you muttered, half to yourself.

Rey squinted over at you, detaching her tool from the bolt and watching your expression change to one of awe. Everything you guys said to each other had always been polite and small, only urgent once or twice. You knew each other, knew of each other, but not in the way that she knew others. It wasn’t quite as intimate or personal as her relationship with others, but Rey liked your presence fine enough. It shocked the pit of her tummy to hear you say something that sounded so personal.

“Well, aren’t you?” she questioned.

You scoffed a little dryly, and Rey knew you were about to sell yourself short. “Piloting an X-Wing isn’t much of the same as piloting a Falcon.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Rey said kindly. She watched you turn to her with the glint of joy in your eyes, dissecting her words. “Pass me that towel?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly. Again, you picked a rag smeared with dirt and grime from the ground and passed it to her. “Are you going to be here all day?”

Rey rung the towel around her sweaty hands, attempting to soothe the perspiration into the skin instead of wiping it away. She had been, in all honesty. She liked working with her hands, especially when it was on something as grand and legendary as the Millennium Falcon. It reminded her of something she knew was real and tangible, no matter how many bad memories her hands tied to her old life.

“No,” she said, even though it hurt a bit to say.

You bit your lip for a second, giving time for her lie to sink in before speaking again. “I meant do you want me to stay all day?”

Rey looks over at you again, her head moving fast. Her big, doe eyes are looking at you like you’ve said the kindest thing in the world, trying to detect if you mean it. You do.

“Yeah,” she says, hoarse but with smile. She nods her head vigorously, strands of hair bouncing up and down. “Yeah.”

You stayed with her for the next hour or so, standing out against the setting sun and the distant view of fern green trees. Rey payed attention to every one of your polite words, each one an offering. She offered what she could back as she weaved and fumbled.

You got to see her hands in action, and you were surprised you hadn’t appreciated them before. To be fair, this interaction was probably the closest you’d been to her. But Rey’s fingers were slim and strong and nimble, and they twisted wires like braids. The metal panels of the ship seemed to bend to her will. You knew she was worth all the time you’d spent observing her beauty.

“Do you think any of this will actually mean anything?” you asked at the end of the day. The sky had turned purple and orange by now, with the sun disappearing beyond the horizon. Most of the soldiers and pilots and workers outside had turned in for the night, and Rey’s palms had begun pink and rough from the work.

You lean your head back against the ship, which is a little uncomfortable, but fatigue has somewhat dulled your senses by now. Your locks matted in the back as it pressed against the metal. You had a knot tying itself up in your lower back, while Rey had one forming in her upper. “What do you mean?” she questioned, shutting a panel for the time being.

“Just... the Rebellion,” you admitted. Your eyes flitted around. Rey could see the reflection of the rising moon in your pupils, even from the side. “The Resistance. What if it doesn’t actually do anything.”

Rey admired your profile, appreciating the look of your skin. She could see the exact shape of your jaw, the chapped nature of your lips and the length of your lashes. Sweat had begun to form against your skin from the humidity of the system, but it didn’t look stinky or unwelcome.

She doesn’t know much about you still, but she likes your presence now. Against the noise of the galaxy, your conversation is quiet and soft, and not nearly as abrasive and demanding as others around her. Rey closes her lips. Her eyes soften more and more, melting into the soothing aura of your presence.

“It’ll mean something,” she says, nodding her head like a promise.

You turn your head to look at Rey, meeting her hazel eyes. “Yeah,” you say in turn. “It’ll mean something.” Though you’re not talking about the Resistance now.

You’re talking about Rey, who you’ve found incredibly beautiful since the moment you saw her. Strong and fierce, she had a fire that reminded you of all the things in life you loved. And maybe one day, you could tell her that. But for the moment, all you can do is exchange a genuine smile with her, the light of everything else in the world fading away until her and the Millennium Falcon are the only things that remain.

“Would you ever want to...”

You turn back to Rey as you walk, watching her wipe her hands across her pants like its a smock. Dirt and oil smears across them, but you know she doesn’t mind. The girl has already had enough experiences to become accustomed to a little dirt.

“Yeah?” you ask, the moon rising higher into the lavender canvas above.

Rey feels nervous, and she’s inwardly cursing at herself for not being able to stop her voice from slipping out. “If you’d ever like to fly the Falcon with me,” she explains. “I just mean...”

You look down, then back up between the girl and the large, infamous ship. “Thank you, Rey.”

You’d agree the next day, on the condition that it meant something.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

I don’t like the sequels very much, but somebody wanted Rey and I delivered. I like writing for girl characters, to be honest. A lot of the sequel characters are a bit difficult to do because I don’t think a lot of them have to much of like... personalities? But I tried to stay true to what I think Rey might say. I’d appreciate feedback if i was alright with her character though! it’s important that I keep them in character

Taglist: @omg-we-really-doo @kit-jpg @chokemeanakin @anakinswhore @fanficsforheartandsoul @haztory

#rey x reader #rey #star wars rey #star wars rey x reader #rey imagines #f x f #fem reader #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #rey imagine #rey skywalker x reader #rey palpatine x reader #star wars fluff #rey fluff #rey skywalker fluff #rey palpatine fluff #star wars sequels

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weakzen · 4 years ago

Text

No Take Backs

Her offer affords him some fun advantages, Mason supposes.

pairing: female detective/mason rating: m series: part 1 of 7

AO3 version

also submitted for @otomefandomevents wayhaven week 2020 ♥ day 1 – dawn/dusk

Mason leans over the walkway railing and takes a long drag from his third cigarette.

He closes his eyes and focuses on the familiar and all-too-brief sting that burns down his throat and explodes across his lungs. Smoke chokes him with overpowering and comforting acridness, blanketing his face in soft heat when he finally exhales.

But it's still not enough to cover the sickly sweetness of fresh-cut grass blasting through the air to coat his tongue.

Or to shield him from the scorching light melting his clothes into his skin. Or muffle the unrelenting, jumbled blare of air conditioners, lawnmowers, TVs, radios, and every other goddamned electronic object in the vicinity.

A piercing shriek from one of the kids playing nearby stabs into his ear and he flinches slightly.

Or that too.

Mason groans as a headache begins to rumble at his temples. He sucks down another long, deep drag and steadies himself against it the best he can. The fatigue makes it difficult. Annoyingly more difficult. Exhaustion weighs on him, subtle yet heavy, trapping his mind and his every little movement beneath a sense of sluggishness.

Though—at least it's starting to lessen somewhat, now that the sun is finally fucking setting.

He ashes his cigarette over the balcony with a flick of his thumb.

And at least it's not as boiling hot as it was earlier, he supposes. And summer's almost over, too.

Thank fuck.

But it'd be better if that storm would finally roll in to cool everything off.

He squints up at the cloudless and faintly hazy sky. Far above the town, the wind continues to whip in from the west. And every time it shifts to slice closer to the ground, he catches the scent of rain.

Sure is taking its fucking time getting here, though.

With a final drag, Mason pushes off the railing to crush his cigarette into the ashtray she'd placed on the windowsill by her door. The one she insisted he use if he 'absolutely had to smoke here.' The one that she grinned over, then told him he needed to stop being a butthead, right before she snorted herself into a cackle at her own stupid pun while he stared at her and wondered why exactly he found her so attractive.

Shaking his head at the memory, Mason lights another cigarette and resumes his perch.

As he waits, the sun slinks closer to the trees. The kids scream endlessly. His headache builds and his cigarette burns shorter.

Obnoxious cawing bursts from somewhere behind the apartments too, joining the rest of the noise crushing in around him. Probably those birds she's always feeding.

Mason rolls his eyes and huffs out another cloud of smoke.

His eyes scan over to the parking lot, to that gleaming silver shitheap of hers, the low sun highlighting every scratch and painting every pockmarked dent in deep shadow.

Where the hell was she, anyway?

Frowning slightly, he glances back at her building, to the grassy courtyard below, the cracked sidewalk, the concrete stairs leading up to the second story, the chipped white railings that bend along the exterior walkways in front of a wall of red brick and a row of doors and windows. His gaze slows as it passes one window in particular.

That nosy fucker is watching him again through a slit in the blinds. He glares hard and directly into the eyes widening behind the glass.

The gap immediately snaps shut.

Mason chuckles a little as the fucker's heartbeat spikes.

Then his chuckle breaks into a loud laugh when he hears the panicked sound of a body crashing into a table.

He takes another drag on his cigarette, smirking as he shakes his head.

But… his amusement doesn't last. And when it finally fades, it just leaves him with a scowl and even more irritation than he felt before.

Where the fuck was she?

…And why was he even waiting for her?

If she couldn't be bothered to show up on time, then fuck it. Her loss. He isn't sticking around. Mason grabs his jacket from the railing, whips it over his shoulder, and strides toward the stairs.

He makes it halfway down them before the realization slams into him that something might have happened to her.

That could explain why she's late today.

His hand snaps out to catch the railing, jerking his movement to a sudden halt at the bottom of the steps. Annoyance twists uncomfortably in his chest, drawing his brow into a furrow when it briefly claws up into his throat.

And if something did happen to her, then it would be entirely on him.

Adam would never let him hear the end of it, just stern glares and disappointed frowns forever—and Mason doesn't even want to think about what Agent Black would do.

And… he doesn't want anything to happen to her, either.

She is one of them after all.

Annoyance still coiling inside him, Mason exhales deeply and almost flicks his cigarette away into the grass.

Then he groans even more deeply and runs back up the stairs to smash it into the ashtray before he takes off.

–o–

He traces her usual route home back to the station, but only finds the night shift volunteer at their desk and Officer Bobblehead in front of the copy machine, singing to herself while she dances to the rhythm of spewing paper.

Scoffing in disgust, he tries the Square next, staying only long enough to guarantee she isn't there before he immediately veers away from the nauseating confection, greasy food, and overwhelming wave of people. He lands at her boxing club after, where there's nothing but stale sweat, grunts, and the echoing cracks of fists hitting bags.

And when he sends her a text to ask where the hell she is, he receives no response.

Mason frowns heavily, annoyance clawing at his throat again as he runs his hand through his hair.

Then he pushes out of town, into the woods, up to the trail that she likes to run by the lake.

Branches whip by him in a blur of green. His feet trample ferns and bounce off moss-covered logs. The rich aroma of damp earth and organic decay invades his lungs as he opens his senses fully to the rustle of every leaf, animal, and insect. The forest howls with life, tearing into him with such a vicious, primal resonance that his body trembles beneath the sheer force of it.

But he pushes on. He cuts through the roar with focus sharpened for one thing only.

Until he finally catches it at the very edge of his hearing, soft and quiet beneath the screaming.

A familiar heartbeat that makes his own jolt in recognition.

Immediately, he turns and streaks toward it. It's calmer than its usual tense tempo, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything good.

He spurs on faster.

Blazing through gaps in the timber and sunken banks of mist.

Over tangled deadfall, slick boulders, and the wide creek he clears easily in a single bound.

Light begins to flicker between the trees. And Mason bursts through the edge of the forest, his momentum carrying him forward—but something even stronger slamming him back, forcing him to skid to a halt, one hand scraping a long trail through the dirt behind him.

Sunset bathes the lake in brilliant red as thousands of sparkles glitter across the water. A felled tree rests on the shore, its trunk worn smooth by time. And in the middle of it, she sits with her back to him, her arms spread out to her sides while her hair ignites like a flame in the light.

Something catches in his throat then.

Smoke, maybe. From that fire up north.

He clears it away and pushes himself up, wiping his hand on his pants. Then he folds his arms, a slow smile spreading across his face.

If there's one good thing about summer at-fucking-all, it's the sleeveless shirts and cropped tops.

His eyes draw over the muscled slope of her bare shoulders and arms, down the curve of her side, briefly dipping into the band of exposed skin above her jeans before sliding back out and around the swell of her ass, only to repeat the journey up the other side. Her hat ruins the effect somewhat, a big black circle silhouetted atop her head that blocks part of his view.

But, all in all…

Mason bites his lip. The image is almost enough to make him forget about how goddamn annoyed she's made him.

Almost.

He kicks a branch out of his way and strides towards her.

“Finally,” he barks out as he nears. “Could've let me know you were gonna be late tonight. Or texted me back.”

She gives him a lazy glance from over her shoulder, followed by an even lazier smile. Oversized sunglasses conceal her eyes.

“Turned my phone off,” she replies, then shrugs slightly. “And I didn't realize we were meeting, sunshine.”

Mason scoffs and stalks across the shifting jumble of rocks and splintered wood that pass for a beach. He tosses his jacket down and plops onto the log beside her, facing the other direction.

“Yeah, not like I don't come over every night to tuck you in when it's my turn to babysit,” he says, glaring at her from over his shoulder. “Some of us have a schedule to keep, sweetheart. Try to be a little more considerate.”

She only laughs, her head falling back with the motion while her tits bounce enticingly. Mason presses his lips together as he watches, his irritation crumbling away.

Just a bit.

“Oh, of course. I'm so sorry,” she says a moment later, her voice even huskier than normal with amusement. She rolls her head to the side to glance at him again, her smile broadening as she tugs her sunglasses down slightly, just enough to meet his eye. “I completely forgot all that smoking and brooding aren't gonna take care of themselves. Next time, I'll be sure to send a text.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs again, turning away as his own smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Apology accepted.”

She chuckles and bumps her shoulder into his.

As she pulls away, he follows, spreading his arms out behind himself too, until their shoulders press faintly together and his hand nearly touches her thigh. Heat rolls off her body—and excitement too, a skittering little thrill that prickles electrically across his skin to bury itself in his stomach. She gives no outward indication of it though, other than the smallest hitch in her breath and the gentle sigh that escapes her lips.

Mason smirks slowly, temptation urging him to lean even closer and draw his finger up her leg to put a deeper crack in that facade, but…

He finds himself more content to just leave her undisturbed, to let her keep relaxing into the moment.

…And to enjoy it himself.

Cool moisture drifts off the water behind him, but it flows over his back pleasantly, softened by the sunlight and her warmth. A lazy breeze presses through the air, brushing against his cheeks and ruffling his hair. He briefly catches the tang of rain on it again, before it disappears beneath her scent and the pines and the distant smoke of wildfires.

The forest rustles around them, and his gaze passes over it appreciatively before ambling up the mountains that cradle the lake. The craggy, purple behemoths tower into the sky above, their snow-capped peaks bathed molten orange in the sunset.

He closes his eyes to a vision of their afterimage.

Waves lap against the shore. Birdsong slows in the trees. Her heart beats in a steady, soothing rhythm with her breath.

And that's all he hears.

Even at the very edge of his senses, he can't detect any other people.

He sags slightly as tension he hadn't even realized he was carrying uncoils from around him.

For a long moment, there's just… peace.

And the world isn't scraping him raw.

–o–

He doesn't open his eyes again until some time later.

When she shivers against him and the pink glow of twilight surrounds them both, the first smattering of stars visible overhead.

Mason leans over to let his breath tickle hot along her neck. “Need me to warm you up?” he asks, teasing his lips against her ear.

Another shiver ripples across her body, and she turns to smirk at him.

“Eventually.”

She looks at him for a moment longer, her smirk softening into a quiet little smile, but he can't see anything more of it behind the sunglasses.

“Should probably get home before it gets too dark,” she adds, pushing up from the log.

He grunts in reluctant agreement.

As she stands, she raises her arms above her head to stretch, her joints cracking from the effort. His eyes follow her movement, roaming appreciatively once more along the lean lines of her body, slowly tracing around her familiar curves as he bites his lip. She picks up her ratty denim jacket from where she was sitting on it, shakes it out a few times, and slips it on.

Mason almost groans.

Then she slings her backpack over her shoulder and glances down at him. With a sigh, he pushes himself up to put on his own jacket and join her.

They walk alongside each other in silence, rocks crunching beneath their feet as they follow the dusty, packed trail that hugs the curve of the lake. Frogs croak from the water, joined by the chirp of crickets and the sharp chittering of bats overhead. A sliver of moon hangs in the darkening sky with them, while the air rapidly begins to cool below.

She pulls her jacket tighter and folds her arms.

Without looking, he lazily throws his arm over her shoulder and tugs her closer. A moment later, her arm circles around his waist, her hand slipping beneath his jacket to curl hot against his side.

His lips quirk in a faint smile as she shifts into him, her body heat bleeding through his clothes and into his skin. Her touch always pleases him, of course, but right now he's more grateful for the shared warmth.

Already, the cold slices him deeper. Sounds grow louder. His vision stretches further, into even sharper detail, while his limbs glide with powerful fluidity. And within it all, he feels far more alert and awake than he has all day, his body thrumming as nightfall gradually returns his strength and draws his senses to a heightened pitch.

…Which only makes it even worse when they finally reach the fork in the trail that breaks away towards the trees.

The little wooded path that cuts back into town.

A frown catches on Mason's lips. At least her apartment isn't far from there.

They turn to take it, eventually emerging onto an empty, dead end street.

The springy dirt of the forest floor blends into a blanket of windblown pine needles before yielding to crumbling asphalt that makes their footsteps snap echoes against the buildings. Electricity crackles in the power lines above, surging down to spool in the streetlights with a shrill whine, readying them to spill their ugly orange light everywhere. In the distance, dogs bark, children shriek, sprinklers sputter and hiss, and the din of heartbeats pound against each other, rising in volume, tangling around the tinny blare of electronics, fragmented conversations, grating laughter, shouting, arguments, screeching music and more abrasive noise than he can clearly identify until it all becomes a jagged and overwhelming roar that tears into him painfully.

Mason inhales and tenses against it reflexively, his jaw tightening—

But then Alex shifts closer into him, stroking his side with her hand briefly before giving him a soft squeeze, and all of it just… fades away.

Disappears beneath her touch and her quiet presence and her calming heartbeat.

His brow furrows deeply as something swells in his chest. Something strange and light and somewhat uncomfortable, if only because of its sudden appearance and unfamiliarity, but... it's not entirely unpleasant.

It's not unpleasant at all.

Frowning, Mason drags his hand back through his hair and exhales a quiet sigh.

The weird sensation lingers for a while, floating gently inside him as he uneasily enjoys it—until she suddenly turns sharply, and he nearly stumbles to keep in step with her. Annoyance jolts through him, a reprimand snapping hot and immediate to his tongue, but… then he realizes they've only arrived at her building.

And all she's done is lead them up the walkway toward it.

He frowns, his irritation fading as he blows out a breath.

Then his frown pulls even harder as she disentangles from him.

She shifts her backpack around to unzip the front pouch. And as she does, a black shape swoops down from the trees to land on the wire that stretches between the apartment and the utility poles.

The crow caws down at her.

She chuckles and holds her hands up, fingers extended and empty. “Don't have anything for you right now, bud.”

It caws obnoxiously a few more times, seeming to understand. Then it flies away with a piercing screech and an annoyed flap of wings.

Chuckling again, she shakes her head and pulls out her key ring. “Yeah, you're welcome, you little bastard.”

“Why the hell do you feed those things anyway?” he asks, glancing at her from the corner of his eye as they continue up the sidewalk.

She shrugs. “Because they're smart and a little ridiculous? I dunno, they're fun to watch. I like them,” she says, then purses her lips. “Except for when they're cawing right outside my bedroom window at five in the morning, but… well, even that's a little funny too.”

His lip curls. “Ugh, if you say so.”

They head up the stairs to her door. She stops outside of it for a moment, then turns around to face him.

“You know… I do have something for you, though.”

Mason immediately smirks.

“Yeah? I have something for you too, sweetheart.” He slides his hands over her hips, thumbs brushing over her bare skin, before he hooks his fingers into her belt loops and tugs her closer. “You want it in there—” he asks, his voice rumbling low as he skims his lips along the length of her neck to press a few quick kisses to her mouth “—or out here?”

Her heart beats faster as her lips move to keep kissing him, but then she just smiles against his mouth and breathes out a quiet little chuckle. “Probably in there,” she says, resting her hand on his arm, “but… let's take care of my thing first.”

He shrugs and gives her a parting kiss before he leans away, letting his fingers flick free of her belt loops. “If that's what you want.”

She glances at him for a moment longer, then inhales deeply and shifts her bag around to unzip the front pouch again. Her hand slips inside and returns with an unexpected object that she holds up between two fingers.

He raises an eyebrow.

“A key?”

“Yep.”

“To what?”

“My apartment.”

Mason tenses slightly, shifting his weight.

“Why the hell would I want that?”

“So you can let yourself in.”

He scoffs and glances away, running his hand back through his hair. “I don't need a key to do that, sweetheart.”

“Probably not,” she agrees, and he can hear the faint grin in her tone, “but it would help me out if you did. You're scaring the shit out of the neighbors with all of your skulking and your scowling and your glaring and your general… you-ness.”

A laugh bursts from him and he glances back to her. “I don't see how that's a problem.”

“Well, maybe not for you, but some of us still have to live here.” She huffs a stray hair out of her face and leans against the door, resting her foot against it too as she lets her bag slide to the ground. Then she folds her arms. “You know, I still can't believe no one has complained to the landlady about all of the smoking… and the noise.”

He smirks and chuckles again. “Sounds like I should keep scaring them so they don't.”

She cocks her head and fixes him with a look that not even her sunglasses can hide. His smirk widens.

“I like this building. I don't want to move. And I'm tired of you banging on the door every time it's locked until I come and answer.”

Mason angles himself towards her, licking his lips as he brings his arm up to rest on the door above her head. “Yet you still let me in every, single, time,” he drawls, his voice low and teasing as he grins at her.

She stares up at him. “Do it again and I won't.”

The telltale combination of reactions ping loudly and immediately against him—the nearly imperceptible crack in her voice, the subtle shift of tension in her stance, the faint and brief spike of her pulse.

He leans down toward her, his grin sharpening. She inhales slightly as he approaches, but holds her ground and his gaze. Pressing his face in close, he teases his lips up her neck again, to her ear, her head tilting to the side to allow it.

“You should know better than to lie to me of all people, sweetheart,” he whispers against her, his words brushing hot across her skin.

She inhales again, more sharply this time, as a shiver ripples down her body. Heat prickles across her face quickly after, and he lingers for a moment to savor it before pulling away to enjoy the view of her flushed cheeks.

“Yeah, well…” she begins, then huffs in that usual way she does whenever she rolls her eyes. “If I didn't answer, then you'd probably just creep around behind the building and start pounding on my bedroom window instead.”

“Probably,” he agrees. “That does sound like more fun, now that you mention it. Less of a walk for both of us, too.”

She groans a loud noise of exasperation, but the smile playing at the corner of her mouth undercuts it slightly.

Then, with a shake of her head, she pushes away from the door and holds the key up to him by the tip.

“Well—do you want it or not, sunshine?”

They stare at each other for a moment. But even with his vision, the only thing Mason can see clearly on her face is the faint movement of her eyelashes brushing against the twin reflections of him and the hand she's extending towards him.

He glances down at the key, and back up to her face.

“I don't need it.”

Her breathing stills for a moment and her lips press together slightly. Something rolls quietly through her chest to bump something uncomfortable into his.

But she inhales deeply and it's gone.

Then she simply shrugs.

“Okay,” she says, her voice unusually flat. And she slips the key into the front pocket of her jeans.

Alex turns away from him—

But his hands snap out to spin her back toward him.

Then they're pushing her hat from her head and her sunglasses up into her hair and curling around the back of her neck and her waist as he leans in to kiss her hard.

His mouth muffles the sound of her surprise, but not the way it reverberates against his skin—and not the heated rush of arousal that quickly follows as she kisses him back.

A moment later, her arms loop around his neck and he yanks her tighter against himself in response. He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth while his fingers tangle into the soft hair at the nape of her neck. Her arms circle him tighter, squeezing, as she presses into him fully, standing up on the tips of her toes to reach him better, and he slides his palm across her lower back and down to her ass, where he squeezes too, lifting her slightly in encouragement.

She moans into his mouth—and he can't help but do the same in return as her desire crashes into his electrically and bursts pleasure across his body.

Fuck, he wants her.

Mason pushes her against the door, her tits crushing to his chest, his cock grinding into her hips, and he presses his thigh between hers, dragging it upward to the sound of her gasping moan. He captures her lips again immediately, unrelenting, and kisses her deeply while he glides his hand over her bare stomach, across the hot and silky expanse of her skin, before he teases his fingers down the front of her pants.

He slides them in past her jeans, past the band of her underwear, until his fingertips and knuckles brush into soft, warm hair and press on a little further still. She sucks in a breath, her stomach rolling exquisitely beneath his touch as her hips rock forward to match it, grinding pleasure from his leg. He smiles against her mouth briefly before kissing her again, rolling his hips in time with her movement while his thumb dances circles around the button on her jeans. He lets her anticipation spiral with it, winding it tighter inside of her until she's ready to spring.

And when she is, he clutches the front of her jeans and pulls them up into her instead.

She arches against him, a moan tearing from her lips, her pleasure crackling white-hot between them and surging straight into his cock.

He inhales deeply in excitement, breathing hard against her lips, anticipation making his own limbs tremble faintly—but despite it, despite the alluring scent of her arousal on his tongue and how much he wants to stay, how much he fucking wants to push his fingers down even further and slide them back up inside of her, he forces them out of her pants instead, to leave her even more wanting. He teases them away across her waistband as she shakes with breathy, groaning laughter against him.

And then he clenches them hard around her hip when she catches his lip between her teeth and nips down

Pain and pleasure singe fire across his body, burning free a guttural snarl that rips past his own teeth. He smirks sharply against her.

Then goes for the throat.

To that spot of hers they both enjoy so much.

As he moves his mouth mercilessly against her, as she moans and shudders beneath his teeth, as they grind together, her pleasure arcing into him on waves that amplify his own throbbing need, his fingers play against her stomach, teasing along her waistband once more.

Then he carefully slides two of them into her pocket.

And pulls out the key.

Mason doesn't understand why.

But he knows immediately what to do next.

He glides his hand down from her hair, his palm pressed flat and wide, fingers trailing over the bumps of her spine, past her thrumming heartbeat, dipping in to the curve of her back before finally settling on her ass. Once there, he grabs her again, groaning as he squeezes a firm handful of her, partially for pleasure, but mostly to shift her weight as he urges her hips forward. Chills ripple across her body as he continues kissing her neck, grazing her with his teeth, dragging his tongue across her pounding pulse and the intoxicating taste of her skin, until her nipples harden and dig into his chest wonderfully, and her fingers claw into his shoulders, and her thighs clench around his, and she moans so deeply into his ear that he knows she's focusing on nothing but him and the pleasure he's giving her in the moment.

Then—in one quick motion—he slips the key into the lock, turns it, and throws the door open.

A gasp tears from her lips as she falls backwards.

Her pulse spikes, surprise flashing with it as her hands scramble at his shoulders to keep hold. Her foot kicks up off the ground as she plummets, her body almost parallel to the floor before he snaps forward in a flash and whips his arms around her to catch her.

She stares up into his eyes as she jerks to a halt, gaze wide, cheeks flushed, arms clinging to him desperation while she breathes heavily and her heartbeat thunders against his chest.

He just smiles.

And holds her there for a long, enjoyable moment, taking in the stunning view of her knocked off balance in more than one way.

Then he pulls her back upright and against him.

She takes a deep, steadying breath, her hands sliding downward from around his neck to rest on his chest—right before her eyes suddenly snap to the door. He chuckles slightly, and reaches around her to tug the key from the lock, her gaze following his movement closely as he holds it up in front of her between two fingers.

“I guess it could come in handy for some things,” he says, smirking.

She raises an eyebrow and huffs a loose hair out of her face. “Guess so.”

Mason slips the key into the front pocket of his jeans.

Her eyebrow shoots up even further.

Still smirking, he bends to grab her things from the ground, then flings that hat of hers over the top of her head into the living room like a frisbee. She watches it fly by and immediately gives him a look that only makes him chuckle in response.

When he swings her backpack behind himself like he's about to do the same, she sighs deeply.

Then she grabs him by the front of his pants and yanks him inside.

Mason slams the door shut behind them, grinning widely as he tosses her bag away with a heavy thunk and presses himself against her again. Her jacket quickly follows the bag, and he groans appreciatively as he runs his hands over the soft and bare skin of her arms and sides. He grabs her waist, squeezing her slightly as he leans down to start kissing her again—but she only lets their lips brush together before she weaves her head away to fix him with another look, raising a pointed finger between them.

“One rule,” she says, pushing her fingertip firmly up against the bottom of his chin. “You better not smoke in here.”

He smirks and pulls her finger away.

“Can't make any promises, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrow with dangerous intent—but a gleam of playfulness flickers in them too.

“Then give it back, asshole.”

“Make me,” he replies, his smirk slowly widening. “If you think you can.”

They stare at each other for a moment, amusement twitching at the corner of her mouth as tension builds between them.

“But I have some doubts about your capability,” he adds.

Her heartbeat spikes as her eyes flash wonderfully.

Then her hand whips toward his pocket, but he catches it and spins her around instead. He pins her wrists together against her stomach with one hand as he hooks his chin over her shoulder and holds her body tightly against his.

“Nope,” he growls into her ear, bending them both forward so he can grind his cock against her ass. “It's mine now.”

A frustrated noise rumbles low from her chest, vibrating into his. He chuckles deeply and starts kissing down her neck.

“Fuck you, sunshine,” she says, hissing her words through a laugh as she tilts her head to encourage him. “Give it back.”

“No,” he replies, smiling briefly against her before continuing his kisses. As he does, he roams his free hand down the front of her body, stopping along the way to grope her tits before moving onward to pry her fingers from around her keys. He tosses them away with a jangling clink. “And don't worry—” he murmurs, his voice dipping into a low and rich tone as he slides his hand down to cup the heat between her legs “—you'll be fucking me soon enough.”

Mason rolls his palm against her firmly, excitement swelling between them both as she sucks in a breath through her teeth.

“I promise,” he adds, then nips down sharply on her neck.

She yelps out a surprised moan and arches into him, her thrill of pleasure crackling hot across his skin to buzz euphorically inside of him. He inhales deeply and groans, her scent filling him too, as anticipation and sheer, overwhelming want for her jolt straight into his cock.

He quickly scrambles his hand downward to tear at the laces tying their boots. Another one of her rules. Shoes off by the door.

The last fucking things keeping them here.

As he rips the knots free, as he reaches to peel his boots off and kick them away, she laughs quietly against him, shaking his body with her own while she squirms beneath him in less of less of a struggle and more of a sly, calculated grind. Her movement stokes pleasure as much as it puts him on guard—but not nearly as much as it pulls a broad smile across his face.

For a brief moment, that strange sensation returns, spreading softly across his chest.

And distracting him just enough for her to twist free from his grasp.

She bolts upright and her hand races toward his pocket again—but he recovers faster, swerving his hips so she lands somewhere much better. In a flash, he grabs her by the ass and crushes her against him, trapping her hand between them both directly on top of his cock.

Mason smirks deeply.

“Find what you're looking for?”

Cheeks flushed, she flashes him an answering smirk before giving him a good, long, and very generous squeeze.

“Maybe.”

He can't help the groan that rumbles low in his throat, or the way his eyes shutter closed and his hips roll forward into the heat of her touch.

He also can't wait until his jeans are finally fucking gone and there's no goddamn awful barrier between them.

She takes in his reaction through half-lidded eyes, a smile growing slowly on her lips. “I'll get it back eventually, you know.”

“I wouldn't count on it, sweetheart.”

And with enough said, he curls his hands under her ass and picks her up.

Her arms and legs wrap around him immediately, her lips finding his just as quickly too. She barely manages to pull her boots off with her feet, kicking them away to clatter down the hallway before they're both at the bed and he's leaning over to drop her onto the edge of the mattress. He takes only the time to rip free of his jacket before he presses himself against her again, kissing her deeply as her arms and legs lock around him once more. He remains halfway on the floor as their mouths move together, her tongue gliding hot against his, and his hands sliding across every part of her body he can reach, completely unwilling to move or break away from her at all, even as she fumbles at the hem of his shirt and tries to pull it off him.

Eventually, she succeeds.

And eventually, he moves away from her lips to kiss down her neck, down her chest, her stomach, groping his way along the entire time, until he guides his fingers to finally unfasten the button on her jeans. When he tugs her zipper down after, an idle question rolls across his mind.

One that asks if he can keep her waiting on the edge for as long as he waited outside her door earlier.

Mason smirks into her skin—and yanks her pants and underwear down in one smooth motion.

Then he skims his mouth up her inner thigh, determined to find out.

–o–

Mason returns to the Warehouse around dawn the next morning, his patrol complete.

Shoulders hunched, he swipes his key card at the hidden door before he jams his hand back into his jeans and stalks inside. His other hand remains curled in his pocket, absently fiddling with the key nestled in his palm, spinning it slowly as his fingertips trace idle laps along the bumpy ridges and smooth metal warmed by his touch.

As he passes by the living room on his way to bed, he makes the mistake of glancing inside.

Felix catches his eye and immediately flips backwards off the sofa from his upside down perch. In a flash, he appears in the doorway, swaying off the frame under his own halted momentum.

“What exactly are you so pleased about?” he asks, grinning.

Mason pauses by the door, then shoots him a smirk.

“It was my turn to babysit. What do you think?”

Felix's eyes narrow as a wide and sly smile unfurls across his face. “I think there's more to it than just that.”

Mason rolls his eyes. “Think whatever you want.”

“Oh, I absolutely will,” he replies, his amber eyes gleaming.

Shaking his head, Mason continues down the hallway toward his room while Felix's gaze drills a hole in his back.

“Night,” he calls over his shoulder without looking, raising a hand to wave.

But not the one holding the key.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #wayhaven week 2020 #twc mason #twc m #mason #the detective #felix hauville #twc f #zfic #alex/mason #alexandra black

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nora-theteawriter · 4 years ago

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30-day Writeblr Challenge Day 25

Self-promo time! Share a snippet from your main WIP that you’re proud of.

Here's a snippet from Chapter 3 of Draft 5 of The Witch University:

Sam and Seraphina decided to take a break later that evening. They found a spot to lounge: the long grassy side of the hill leading from MacDonald to Le Fey Hall. The sun lingered in the sky, a sign summer had yet to end. Cicadas gave the humidity a voice, humming the evening away. Distant laughter was drowned out by a hazy stillness.

“Have you thought about which classes you might switch into?” Seraphina asked.

“I haven’t gotten the chance. It’s been so hectic, I can barely comprehend my own existence anymore.”

“Yup.” Seraphina laughed and shifted positions.

“I hope a lot of our classes go into the woods. We’ve only gotten to see them at night; do you think there are magical creatures in them?”

“Dang, I don’t know.” Seraphina shifted to their side to look at Sam. “That would be so cool.”

“Imagine…a unicorn!”

“Or an elf.”

“Or a fairy.”

“Or a demon!”

“What?” Sam laughed.

“Something like that.” They tapped their fingers together, looking away, off into the densely packed woods. Sam followed their gaze.

“Want to go in there now?” she asked.

Seraphina’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah?”

“It’s not like there’s any rule against it. Hell, they were practically encouraging us by hosting the first witch event in the woods. Come on!” Sam stood up and held out a hand. “We could see what plants are native to this area, figure out how to find our way, maybe forage a little. Besides,” she pulled Seraphina up and gave them a mischievous grin. “It’ll be fun.”

Only waiting a few seconds for Seraphina to get their bearings, Sam took off towards the woods. Impatiently, she would stop and beckon her friend to catch up every couple of paces, her legs a little longer than theirs. The two passed Le Fey Hall, the greenhouse behind it, and the garden behind that. With each threshold Sam only grew more excited.

The moment they stepped foot beyond the trees, Seraphina slowed to a stop. Sam spun around, about to ask them if they even wanted to come along, when she saw Seraphina put a hand to the trunk nearest them. They closed their eyes, opened them, then took their hand off the tree and continued along.

“What was that about?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I was just remembering where we came in.” They stopped again and did the same thing with another tree.

“How do you do it?”

“I don’t know.” Seraphina cocked their head. “I’ve always done it. So I don’t get lost. Don’t you?”

“Must be a witch thing,” Sam whispered. She put her hand on a tree near her and tried to mimic what Seraphina had done. Lichen tickled her palm, the rough, sectioned bark fitting into the space between her fingers. She pulled her hand away, unsure if it had worked.

While Seraphina dealt with the way back, Sam took in her surroundings. The woods were damp from that morning, smelling of earth and moss. The trees started thin but grew thicker and farther apart as they traipsed deeper. There were the beginnings of orange and yellow leaves, scattered and hinting at the season change to come. Ferns, fallen branches, and flowers in small batches painted the ground beneath their feet. Sam had to watch her feet to not trip on the roots and brambles crossing in front of her.

“What kind of things are you looking for out here?” Seraphina asked.

“I just want to get to know the woods.” Sam said, although she found herself walking with a direction in mind. She just didn’t know where to.

The deeper they went, the more the trees seemed to enchant them. Sam found herself staring at every plant, at every place where light dappled a warmth of colors through the leaves. Sometimes a chipmunk or a small bird scuttled past her in the undergrowth. Her head snapped towards each one, with a growing desire to chase them. She started leaping over roots, no matter how small, and her senses sharpened, detecting every little whiff of the woods.

Something caught her attention.

“Is that a…?” Seraphina said.

“A fox!”

#chazzawrites challenge #writeblr community #day 25 #queue #my writing

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orionares · 4 years ago

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Semper Fidelis, Part 20

A/N: Last one! Thank you for reading!

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Hollywood- Burbank Airport, Los Angeles

“I think we need to have a talk with Nell about the difference between a ‘surprise’ and…..this.”

Kensi slowly nods in agreement at Deeks’ comment at the unexpected sight in front of them in one of Burbank’s private hangars.

Minutes ago, the private jet had pulled into the hangar to reveal a small makeshift wedding chapel in the center. Candles line a red aisle runner to a wooden flowered wedding arch with two white floor vases containing lilies. Roberta and Julia talk excitedly over a small round table draped in a cream and lilac colored tablecloth. Sam, donning a black suit, stands behind the arch, reviewing a small folded sheet of paper while the rest of the team set up a row of chairs in front of the arch. Callen is the first to look up to Kensi and Deeks.

“Welcome back!” Callen calls out. “What do you think?”

“Wha- what is this?” Kensi stammers. She feels a gentle nudge from Deeks to continue down the airstairs. “This is more than a surprise.”

“It’s a wedding, sweetheart!” Julia exclaims. “Your amazing friends here came up with the idea to make up the wedding today and in an airplane hangar, no less. What do you think?”

“This makes no sense,” Kensi quickly turns to Deeks and narrows her eyes at him. “Did you do this? Did you get them to do this?”

Deeks glances between the chairs and back to his fiancée. “Nope…no, no, no, this isn’t me.”

“Because it’s private,” Callen explains, placing the last chair near the aisle. He gestures to the hangar and adds, “And it’s time. We’re going to keep doing our jobs and living our lives but you guys gave up your wedding weeks ago and…it’s time. Everything’s taken care of.”

“Deeks,” Kensi calls out breathlessly and pulls him around the airstairs and out of earshot of the team. Deeks maintains a calmness that eases the panic rising in her chest as he asks quietly, “What do you think? I know it’s not what we planned- actually, everything in the last…forever hasn’t gone to plan-“

Kensi ‘s mind jumps back to their conversation in the parking lot before she had been sent off to Afghanistan. “It seems to be our thing, if you think about it.”

“That is true, Fern, that is true. It’s insane but I’m all in,” Deeks states, “ And I’m ready if you are.”

Kensi takes both of his hands in hers and enlaces her fingers between his. She smiles at the butterflies she can feel dancing in her stomach. “All in….let’s get married.”

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“Sweetheart, are you ready?”

Fifteen minutes later, Kensi runs her hands down a white flutter v-dress once more before turning to face her mother. Julia leans around the divider and motions to the group waiting at the other end of the hangar. “You look absolutely perfect. Are you ready?”

“I’m scared.” The words tumble out of Kensi before she realizes- between leaving the hospital, deciding the impromptu wedding and then searching for Hetty, the fear of being married, truly married, had suddenly become dormant. She bites down on her lip and repeats, “I’m scared.”

“Why is that?”

“Because it’s actually real,” she inhales sharply, “I think with our jobs, planning the wedding and coming back from this case, it’s never sank in. Now, I’m going to walk down the aisle in minutes and I’m panicking, Mom.”

Julia chuckles and pulls her daughter into a warm hug. She rubs her back, replying, “You save the world daily and face things most people wouldn’t even fathom. You have found a wonderful man who loves you for you and will love and protect you for life. You have nothing to be afraid of. Your fears are normal for every bride about to walk down the aisle. You’ve got this.”

Kensi nods slowly and steps out from the changing divider. With her mother behind her, she approaches the end of the aisle where an ecstatic Nell holds out a small white and purple flower bouquet. Roberta and Julia take an arm and begin to walk Kensi down the aisle towards Sam, Callen and Deeks.

Deeks, fidgeting in a navy blue suit, looks up from his hands and smiles delightedly at Kensi’s arrival. “Hi, Fern.”

“You clean up nice, Max,” Kensi replies as she takes a kiss on the cheek from Callen.

Sam clasps his hands together at the pair and states, “Let’s do this- however, before I begin, I’ve got something to say to the both of you before we begin. Kens, my sister- I’ve watched you grown from a young junior agent to a badass, powerful agent that’s a force to be reckon with. You have dealt with loss and come back from a deliberating injury and somehow manage to put up with a chatter box without an off switch with grace. And to you Deeks. I’ve watched you grow from a young detective who’s carefree attitude made me want to strangle you to a capable, phenomenal agent that I’ve only wanted to slightly strangle during one of your long, enduring rants.

Your strength, bravery and love makes me one hundred percent sure that Kensi will always be loved and taken care of. Marines always say “Semper Fi,” which means always faithful. I don’t think there’s anything else that best describes you both. Between you both being injured severely and this job, you two haven’t wavered in your love. And that is everything.”

Deeks’ blues eyes glisten with tears as Kensi wipes away a tear from her cheek. Amongst the happy chuckles and soft sniffs, both hear a low cough from behind Deeks. Callen, standing with arms crossed, coughs and blinks furiously while looking to the ceiling.

“You alright there, G?” Sam calls out.

“Mmmhmm. I’m good. Keep going.”

Sam shoots a look to Callen that screams I’m going to give you so much shit for this later look before stating, “As we bombarded you both with this, you don’t have vows prepared-“

“I actually have something to say,” Kensi interrupts. She brushes away a bang and continues, “ Deeks, we have gone through life and death and everything in between. Your patience, your love and your understanding is something that I never thought I’d get. You are everything to me and I can’t wait to start this next steps of our lives. I love you.”

Deeks’ eyes sparkle at Kensi’s vows. “Guess, it’s my turn,” he chuckles. “Kensi Marie, I honestly didn’t seem myself finding someone with your love, grace and patience. I don’t ever want to lose you and I love you. So damn much.”

Sam nods in approval. “Do you Kensi Marie Blye take Martin Andrew Deeks to be your husband?”

Everything slows for Kensi- her mind drifts back to ten years earlier, stepping into the MMA gym and eyeing the shaggy blonde haired man in a grey shirt and red shorts. She remembers playing husband and wife, rescuing him from Sidarov to him holding her in Afghanistan. They’ve gone through hell and back, taking the first steps of being all in to him holding her crying and frustrated in the hospital. Her heart skips at the argument before leaving for Mexico to the hours upon hours hoping and praying that his heart wouldn’t stop like it had before. So much heartbreak and love to get to this moment.

Kensi grins widely. “I’m all in. I do.”

“And do you, Martin Andrew Deeks, take Kensi Marie Blye to be your wife?”

Deeks, being Deeks, looks upwards and begins muttering as if calculating numbers in his head. He quickly nods as if happy with his calculation and replies, “I mean…I guess…”

“Deeks!”

His face softens and he replies, “I do. I’m all in too, Fern.”

“Then by the power invested in me and the state of California do pronounce you husband and wife. You may now-“ Sam stops short when Deeks pulls Kensi into a strong, passionate kiss. Kensi takes in the cheers, the warmth and love amongst her now husband, family and team. Nearly a month ago, she had been holding her husband’s hand, praying for another chance and hating the argument they had before leaving for Mexico.

And now, even with a mentor still in the wind, Kensi takes in the beauty and the new life in front of her and finally feels peace.

“The meaning of Semper Fidelis: Latin for always faithful,” Semper Fidelis has been the Marine Corps motto since 1883. It embodies the promise to always remain faithful, no matter what.”- United States Marines

#ncis la #eric christian olsen #marty deeks #densi

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tempesrature · 4 years ago

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The Case of the Murdered Witch Doctors | Chapter 10 (End)

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 The Charm of Lost Things (Oneshot Follow-up) Creative Process Note Commissioned Art Piece

Pairing: Ride or Die | Ellie x Colt Summary: “It may be that you are not yourself luminous, but that you are a conductor of light.” - Arthur Conan Doyle, The Hound of Baskervilles Word Count: 1k+ Warnings: PG-16 @rodappreciationweek @lovehugsandcandy

~*~

Ellie closes the door of her car and walks towards the cliff as the sun hangs close to the horizon. She feels the rush of sea wind whip her hair around but she ignores it as she makes her way to the figure in a familiar black leather jacket and currant-red pants standing near the edge as the red and orange hue of the sky bathes him in the soft light.

“Soaking up the last of the sun?” She teases as she makes her way to his side.

Colt smirks as he glances at her from the side before he turns to look back into the distance. “How was it?”

“Oh you know. Got my ass handed to me by Mona and got delegated to desk work for a month but jokes on them because I love desk work.”

Colt smiles amusingly. “I don’t even need to put my hand on your heart to know that you’re lying.”

Ellie sighs as her shoulders sag. Yeah, he’s right. She hates desk work but, as Ingrid said, she’s trying to find the brighter side of things and it’s not like Ellie doesn’t know what Mona is trying to do. Although the wounds that Ellie got from the fight weren’t that bad, they’d still need a few weeks to heal and desk work allows her to work and heal at the same time (and Colt’s vampire saliva greatly helped in shortening her healing timeframe but she’s never going to tell anyone that). Plus, after four days in the hospital since her big confrontation with Ana she still has so much to catch up on. She doubts she’ll be able to pick up a case any time soon. Or if she’d actually want to pick up a case any time soon. Not from the Agency at least.

“The charges on Toby have been dropped,” Ellie says as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “I handed the case to the Elves and since they were able to get Ana, they didn’t really care much about the little guys so he should be home within the week.”

Colt turns to her in alarm. “What…so you’re not getting any credit for the case?”

Ellie shrugs. “It doesn’t matter as long as the case is solved.”

Colt blinks for a moment before a wide grin takes hold of his lips. “You did it for me.”

Ellie sputters as she turns to look at him with a weak glare. “I did it for the greater good. We put away a major supplier of Fern Libation and we solved the murder of two magical creatures. So it shouldn’t matter who gets the credit or not.”

“Yeah? Just say that you did it for me Ellie, it’s not that hard,” Colt leans in to her with a cocky and knowing smile. “I think it’s hot that you did it for me.”

Ellie rolls her eyes but she can’t help the smile that tugs on her lips. If she’s being honest with herself. Truly and willfully honest—then yeah, she really did do it for Colt. If Toby had been charged with the crime, a lot of it would blowback to Colt and his operation of distributing the Fern Flower blunt. It’s a terrible thing for her as a detective of the Agency but…she also justified it by telling herself that Toby wasn’t really selling Fern Libation and if Toby’s going to get locked up in jail for a crime then it shouldn’t be under false charges.

“I have something for you,” She ignores the amused look on Colt’s face as she reaches out for his hands. She places her palms on the back of his hand as she manifests the last thing she’ll need to give him before their arrangement truly and finally ends.

The ashes of Teppei Kaneko.

Colt’s eyes widen as the ceramic urn slowly start to materialize in his hands. He feels the weight and shape of it but even then it still feels surreal to have it in his grasp after three years.

“Give me your hand,” She commands and Colt raises an eyebrow but follows nonetheless as he cradles the urn close to his abdomen and offers his hand to her. She takes it, places it on top of her heart, and smiles up at him. “Those are Teppei Kaneko’s ashes.”

Colt blinks for a moment before a huge grin takes hold of his lips. He moves his hand from her heart and fits her chin between his fingers as he runs his thumb over her bottom lip.

“Didn’t doubt you for a second.”

Ellie smiles as her eyes flick to the urn cradled his other hand. “What are you planning to do with it?”

“Flush it down the toilet,” He bursts out in laughter at the absolute horror and disbelief on Ellie’s face and he reaches up to wipe away the tears that managed to squeeze themselves out of his eyes. “I’m kidding El. I’m gonna send it to my Ma and she can decide what she wants to do with him.”

“You asshole,” Ellie huffs as she lands a soft punch on his shoulder. “You can’t even begin to imagine what I had to do to get it out of the Vault.”

Colt smiles warmly. “Yeah I can. I’ve seen how you operate Ellie. You work hard to get what you want and you don’t let anyone get in the way of that. That’s why I like you even when you’re a pain in the ass.”

Ellie flushes and the memory of their conversation before the fight with Ana comes back to her. A frown tugs on her lips when she realizes that this a conversation they need to have. Right now, with the return of Teppei’s ashes and the end of the case, their agreement is finished. They have no reason to see, to talk or to contact each other now. Which feels…lonely—a little sad.

“Colt…” She starts, her voice apprehensive and sad. “We…we can’t be together.”

Colt’s face falls and a frown pulls on his lips. “Why?”

“Colt. You’re distributing Fern Flower blunts and I’m a detective of the Agency. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now never mind dating you.”

Colt furrows his eyebrows as the first and most prominent emotion that takes hold of him is anger. But he snuffs out the anger in favor of something else. Maybe annoyance, maybe even logic so he can figure out a solution for their predicament, but instead he is met with an emotion so tight and choking he has no other word for it other than heartbreak. Because she’s right. Shit. She’s right.

“That’s why something has to change,” She says and Colt looks at her confusingly, the tone on her voice annoyingly happy for the context of this conversation.

He glares at her, a flit of dark gold passing through his eyes. “I’m not stopping.”

Ellie smiles pleasantly. “Neither am I.”

He expected that but it still stings all the same. So he scoffs and looks away and pretends to put on a scowl to mask his aching heart.

“Then. Guess that’s it. Nice knowing you Miss Half a Witch.”

Ellie narrows her eyes at him as stormy blues flit by her eyes. She hates that nickname, he knows that, but he’s only ever said it in tone that’s teasing and playful. This is the first time she’s ever heard him say it with so much finality that it breaks her heart and angers her at the same time.

Because the idiot never listens first.

“Which is why I’m thinking of going into Private Investigation that will specialize in cases that were or are being buried by the Agency. After I serve my one month of desk duty, I’ll hand in my resignation and start building up my name.”

Colt whips his head back to her so fast he feels like he got vertigo. He replays her words in his head to make sure he hadn’t heard her wrong. When he realizes that he hasn’t, he can’t stop the relief and joy taking hold of his face.

“This was my endgame actually, I never planned to stay long in the Agency. Just enough to take advantage of their training and build connections. I’m just speeding up the process—no not for you,” Ellie glares at him when she sees the mischief in his eyes. “I’m doing it because my first case taught me something. I won’t always be able to choose the type of cases I’ll be handling and a lot of it will be steeped in Agency politics. If I start putting my time and energy to my own PI business now, then I’ll be able to work on more cases like yours and mine.”

Colt smiles as he takes a step closer to her, his eyes shining in hope and happiness. “So does this mean…?”

Ellie tries to glare at him but it’s weakened by the smile on her lips. “Ask me again in a month.”

He lets out a loud laugh before he leans down and presses his forehead against hers. His soft golden eyes meeting her soft blues. “I already know you’re gonna say yes.”

Ellie rolls her eyes as she locks her fingers behind his neck. “Why do I like you again?”

He answers her question with a kiss. The kind that’s both desperate and hard but full of promise for what’s to come in the days, months, and years.

She breaks the kiss first and leans back to look at him before she catches the shimmer of the blue ocean in her peripheral view. An idea takes hold of her and she gazes into his eyes.

“Wanna jump in the ocean?”

Colt grins. “Huge rocks at the bottom, remember?”

She rolls her eyes. “Genius witch, remember?”

Ellie takes a step back and quickly strips to her underwear. She ignores his hungry eyes roaming her body as she turns to look at him expectantly. Colt shakes his head before he places the urn on the ground and starts to strip down to his underwear. She walks towards the edge of the cliff and he stands next to her. She easily gathers her magic between them that steadily coats them in a blue hue that’s both warm and secure. She turns to him with an easy smile as she offers her hand to him.

“Ready Colt?”

He fits her hand in his and interlaces their fingers as he returns her easy smile with his own.

“Ready Ellie.”

And they jump.

Ellie already starts her water spell before their feet ever left the ground as the levitation spell moves them beyond the rocks while the water rises up to catch their fall and they drop down with a loud splash.

Colt swims in the brilliant blue as his eyes immediately search for her. He sees her legs already below the surface and he swims up to catch her. When he emerges from the water, his eyes widen at the sight. The ocean water surrounding them is now glinting and shimmering with gold.

He turns to her and she looks back at him with a proud smile and once again, Colt is magnetized to her.

He swims to her and encircles his arms around her waist while she easily fits her arms around his neck. Their bodies mold against each other and their lips meet under the sinking horizon of red and orange as the blue and gold surround them in a dizzying haze that’s nothing short...

Of magic.

END

#rodaw #choices rod #colt x ellie #colt kaneko #vampire au #detective au #witch au #murder mystery #cw: police #cw:magic-drugs #my writing

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