#fighting the urge not to make a character smirk (its impossible)

[abovesn4kes]

practically the smiles of angels

[the-silentium]

What if - Alternate Ending

Masterlist

Pairing: Wrecker x OC.

Words: 12.5k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Gore, swearing, halo canon violence, RvB characters, major character death.

A/N: And I am finally back with the promised alternate ending. I've been gone a while, a lot happened since I last posted a chapter here. Mainly, I got a spine surgery and struggled with writer block. Fortunately, I had this chapter 90% done already so I forced myself to finish it, so at least I could share what would have happened if Layla went back to the Halo universe. Please enjoy ~

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Echo had seen some bad missions in his time under General Skywalker's command. A couple of times, the thought that he wouldn't make it out had crossed his mind and urged him to do more; run faster, shoot more droids, watch more closely his and Fives' backs. It had worked fine until the Citadel where he lost everything. Then he was found again and the Batch showed him that there were crazier plans out there that he had yet to experience. He was certain he had felt the caress of death twice as often as he did in his first battalion. Surviving this many times had been a feat he dared not dwell on too much. 

He didn't want to dare the odds to get back at them for winning so often. All the time, even. Then again, faith always had a cheap trick up its sleeve. Be it a surprise battalion of droids blocking their escape route or a particularly complex encryption, the Batch was no stranger to those last-second complications. 

They pulled through no matter what. 

They had to.

Sweat ran down Echo's spine when he hit an unbreakable firewall. He had taken way too long to get to this point and he wasn't even close to accessing the files needed. Who knew hacking into old Republic databases would be so hard for him, a former soldier who dedicated his life to the Jedis and their war. It shouldn't have taken this much time. Every other Republican file he had previously hacked had been rather easy since he knew the configurations and standard structure of the files and encryption. 

This one was particularly hard to crack. Impossible even. His concentration wasn't optimal with his brothers fighting the enemy a few feet away, but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. Cid had been quite vague about the information she was after, she only told them where to hack and requested a whole unencrypted file. 

Sure, he had tried to export the data onto an external drive to work on the encryption later, however, the security system interlaced with the requested code made sure that everything would be deleted as soon as he moved, copied, or even open a single file. 

"Better be worth the credits." He mumbled under his breath. Infiltrating a top-secret Republic base that was coincidentally deep within Empire control was nothing to take lightly. She better pay them well on this one. 

He forced his way through another trail in hope of finding something that would satisfy their employer. Bits and pieces of research passed through his fingers like sand. He saw the information passing through his mind but could never get a hold of it. That device had been an extremely important asset for the Jedis to put so much effort into hiding every drop of information about it. 

Spatial manipulation. The words disappeared out of his reach before he could focus on them. Frustrated, he pushed again, opened doors, and forced his way in by destroying firewall after firewall. 

Teleportation. He nearly got a grasp of this one, but the file erased itself before he could disable the security protecting the data. 

Echo groaned. He felt like a pawn being pushed around. Played and mocked. That is until he found a back door. A breach in the security system. He smirked. Finally, he had found it. 

//Activation? 

The question floated through his brain and the clone felt a new wave of adrenaline rush through his veins. 

//No. 

He couldn't know for sure what he would be activating.

His curiosity on the matter was crushed when a door behind him closed abruptly and all members of the Bad Batch formed a barrier between him and the sealed-off door. 

"Disconnect yourself." Hunter turned to face him momentarily. Echo could hear the strain in his voice. He had taken too long to fulfill his goal. "We're leaving." 

Echo hesitated. He was torn between obeying orders and letting go of the only progress he had made. It wasn't only their bounty that they were abandoning, but important Jedi research. Those findings could perhaps help the fighters who dared face the Empire. The soldier deep within his genes wanted to fight that oppressing enemy, even when they clearly couldn't in their actual situation, not with Omega amongst them who could get hurt at every corner. 

With a heavy sigh, Echo disconnected from the system and joined his brothers. 

"We have to shoot our way out." 

He could hear Hunter's inner conflict. They had all agreed that Omega should remain with Cid, but she had another idea in mind. How the kid avoided Hunter's detection was still a mystery. One thing was certain, the sergeant was beating himself over it and they were all worrying for their younger sibling's wellbeing. 

Echo moved behind Omega whose sheepish expression had long ago morphed into a focused one. She was ready to follow orders. If only she had done the same hours ago. 

"Perhaps we won't have to." Tech frowned when he analyzed the security feed displayed on his datapad. "They are retreating." 

"They are?" 

Dread filled Echo at the possibilities a strategic retreat could mean. None of them were good. 

"It would seem that they used our defensive position to their advantage. While we were here, another squad trapped the power supply room with explosives." 

"We have to lea-"

"I'm afraid we don't have time." He showed them the live feed of the generator room, the detonator showing a meager six seconds. 

Frenetically, Echo jumped and connected himself back to the systems to force his way back to the only thing that his mind could think of. 

//Activation? 

Spatial manipulation. The typed words flashed behind his eyelids. Teleportation. 

Echo swallowed the lump blocking his throat. Please take us back to the ship.

//Activation?

//Yes. 

_______________

Echo groaned when fingers poked him in the face. He felt sick. Not that sickness he got when he ate something bad, but the kind when Tech was piloting like a madman on spice. Motion sickness.

His ears were slightly ringing. He could hear Omega's voice over the noise. She called out to him in such worry that his eyes shot open in alarm. He looked at her upside-down figure, noted the tears gathering in her eyes, and immediately forgot the stiffness in his muscles to pull her into a reassuring hug.

"What did you do?" Crosshair walked up to them. He nearly sounded accusing, which didn't sit well with Echo. 

“I activated the program.” He explained with his eyes still closed in the hope to chase away the ache growing in his skull. “I don't know what it was, but the files mentioned a teleportation device. I thought it could get us out of there.” And if Crosshair was still there to jab at him, then it must have worked, right?

A short sense of relief washed over him at the thought that he managed to save his siblings from their imminent death. Slowly, the clone opened his eyes and took in Omega’s state. She still clung to him, her own eyes shut tightly and a hand pinching her nose. He thought he felt her shake, but that could also have been Crosshair nudging him. 

"So you activate anything you can touch? Guess we're stuck in the middle of nowhere because of your amazing plan, Echo." The sniper remarked with a sneer. 

"Better that than being dead." He shot back, annoyed. This was another obstacle, nothing they didn't usually deal with. Sure, with the Empire lurking around everything was one thousand times more difficult, but not impossible. 

“Cut it off.” Hunter’s voice lacked any real command. It sounded like he was entranced, focussing on something else. Curious, Echo looked over Omega’s head. 

His stomach fell. 

Skeletons lingered on the ground in sickening puddles of what Echo assumed once was their flesh and organs. It soaked up the fabric of torned clothes and broken armor. The armor was a simplistic design and offered way less cover than the clone's armor. It reminded him of the armor worn by the Kota's militia. He also could recognize a human skull under the sideways helmet. His heart jumped in his chest at the thought that a Jedi General could have been here, or could still be around. 

The overall atmosphere was heavy. Heavier than what they were used to on the battlefield or on Kamino. Whatever device the Jedis were working on was either dysfunctional or came into use too late. Surely, they had entered specific coordinates into their programming with a purpose, one that the clone was certain was good. 

"I would say that the battle occurred years ago," Tech informed them, still leaning over the closest dead body. He tapped away at his vambrace, analyzing the data he recorded. "The threat is long gone." 

"What's that?" Omega whispered under her breath, catching everyone’s attention. 

Echo’s stomach rose to his throat. 

Unknown aliens lay on the floor in dry, blue puddles, their mummified bodies surrounded by small cylindrical objects and what looked to be an unknown type of blaster. Never before had he seen species looking like those. 

One of them was tall, bipedal, and had blueish armor covering its lizard-like body. Four mandibles formed its mouth, their sharp teeth in full display. Four digits were closed around a purple item that looked very much like a weapon of some sort.

Others were smaller, more or less reptilian-like. One of the species had a thicker build, its skin a dark purple shade. Some of them had masks over the bottom half of their faces while others didn’t, showing a series of sharp, pointed teeth. Their arms seemed oversized compared to the rest of their bodies, and full of small barbs that Echo was certain were sharp enough to cut flesh. 

The last specie he noticed was lean and muscular, their bodies covered by scales and feathers. Their avian-looking mouth was full of sharp teeth and ended on a hooked beak. 

Tech approached the tallest alien, scanning it over. Instinctively, Echo waited for Tech’s imminent info dump of the unknown species. He remained silent.

Echo frowned. It was unusual for his brother to keep quiet on unfamiliar knowledge. He was always keeping them as informed of their enemies or environment as possible to keep the drawbacks as low as possible. This was a first. Was it possible that his know-it-all brother was at a loss?

With a quick look around, Echo noticed that the room was filled with bodies. Way above a hundred of them, humans and aliens alike. What looked like ships were stationed not too far from them, their class foreign to him. 

"Karking hell…" Crosshair's whisper gave him goosebumps. Something was seriously wrong if Crosshair of all people was taken aback. 

Added to Tech’s unusual behavior…

"I…” Echo’s head snapped in Tech’s direction as soon as he heard the hesitation in his voice. A cold sweat ran down his spine. “Don’t think we are in the right universe anymore." 

His heart skipped a beat. What could Tech even mean? Did he mean systems? The silence following the statement was deafening. Echo didn't understand why no one was correcting Tech or even asking for clarifications. What he said literally made no sense.

"Those are Covenants." Echo frowned at Tech’s words. He couldn't recall ever hearing this term before. 

"Covenants?" He asked, at a total loss.

Tech hesitated and looked at Hunter. Echo didn’t know if it was for guidance or confirmation, but he received none from the sergeant who remained fixed on the alien laying at his feet.

"Aliens from another dimension. Layla's dimension." Tech briefly looked at him before returning to look over the body of the imposing alien. 

Even though his brother had said it like it was the most logical thing in the universe, Echo knew that Tech often overlooked that not everyone was well-versed in random details and specifics. This fact was accurate the majority of the time. This time around though, Echo couldn't stop but notice that only he and Omega were confused about the whole another dimension thing. 

Also, the name was familiar. He knew he had heard it before. Was it during one of their many nights at 79s? Or from the GAR? Deep within himself, he knew the name belonged to someone powerful. The word impressive also came to mind. He heard Fives calling that name in his head, his voice full of amusement. I've never seen the General as close to a heart attack as when you've slashed that spider droid down, Layla! 

"Wait. Layla, the freelancer with a light sword?" He hadn't thought of her in forever. She had left their battalion and soon after he got caught at the Citadel. 

"Yes." Hunter snapped out of it and scratched the back of his neck. "A space-traveling device sent her to our universe and the Jedi repaired it to send her back. Must have been the same program that you activated." To Echo's relief, there was no anger in his voice, only worry which was not much better. 

He would have believed that his brothers were playing an elaborate plan on him if only there weren't litteral bodies and unknown aliens scattered around him at this very moment. Space-travel was a crazy concept, but he also couldn't explain how the Force worked. 

"So, those Covenants, what are they?" 

"Aggressive species that are at war with mankind,” Tech explained. “I, unfortunately, don't have much information on them other than the very basics." He grabbed a device from a nearby alien body and stood up. It looked awfully like a droid-popper. 

"The basics?" 

Tech glanced momentarily at Omega. A flash of worry quickly disappeared behind the glare of his glasses and he moved his attention back to the purple sphere in his possession. 

"We should avoid them as much as possible in order to remain… whole. And alive." That he had figured out by himself. "Our best chances of survival would involve finding Layla." 

Hunter hummed. "I agree, but eh last I heard, her coming back here meant a near-death sentence." His sergeant approached Tech and reached out to the round device. Right before he managed to take the item from Tech's hands, the engineer pushed a button on the side of it. The device was instantly engulfed in blue fumes and a high-pitched noise filled the room.

“Tech!” Hunter’s yell covered Echo’s sharp breath intake. He might not know what this device was but a word rang in his head. Explosive.

In a heartbeat, Tech threw the device as far as he could while Wrecker grabbed Omega to hide her behind his body. In a crouch, Echo looked as the device bounced on top of a crate, stuck to the side of a ship, and exploded in a flash of blue-white light, charring the metal and the bodies within its detonation zone.

“This was unexpected.” Tech matter-of-factly broke the stunned silence that fell onto their squad. 

“Was it? This is a battlefield!” Hunter yelled, his arms open to his sides to show his surroundings. 

“I meant that the grenade stuck to the ship, but not to the crate. Or even to my hand.” He further explained after sparing a quick glance at his hand. “But back to Layla. Your assumption is accurate, although she did mention that this universe was desperate to win after more than two decades of war. I am almost positive they would not dispose of a capable soldier like her. She might have been reconditioned– in the literal sense of the word, not the Kaminoan way. Or even sent to another hopeless mission." 

With a groan, Hunter dropped it. 

"Let's assume that she theoretically is still alive, how do you plan on contacting her?" Crosshair asked from his spot at the back of the group, his eyes trained on the upper levels of the hangar.

"Our comms are void of any outside signals, so we cannot reach her through her GAR-issued channel." While using his scanner, Tech ventured farther away from them and away from the ships. 

“Could we try to reach her through their comms?" Wrecker wondered.

With a move of his head, Hunter ordered them to follow Tech’s lead. Wrecker moved Omega into the crook of his elbow to keep her as free of the gore as possible. There was no way she could escape the smell even if she had closed her eyes to keep from seeing more remains and pressed her face to Wrecker's neck. The least they could do was to make sure she wouldn't come in contact with any of it. 

Echo walked behind the two of them, his blaster at the ready. He managed to calm down his mind when he noticed that their feet were the only marks left on the sticky, gory crust caked on the floor. It reassured him to think that the enemy was long gone. 

“It wouldn’t be a good idea to send a comm-wide message in the hope to get to her. Many things could go wrong. She mentioned that she had to learn Basic, which means that the only thing others would understand would be her name, drawing attention to her. Additionally, we could be perceived as a threat for having infiltrated their comms or even-” 

“We got it Tech.” Hunter cut him off. “You sound like you have a plan.”

With a nod, Tech stepped over a skeleton. “This is because I do have one.” 

“What is it?” Crosshair pushed.

“I might be mistaken, but if my theory is correct, we should find the remains of Layla’s squad in this complex. Squads share a closed line, which would be a safer way to attempt communicating with her.” 

“Oh.” Wrecker’s step faltered. Echo frowned in worry. 

“And if your theory is wrong?” Crosshair asked. 

“Then we’ll have to go comm-wide and hope for the best. But do not worry, I am fairly certain that this battlefield is the result of Operation: LEVIATHAN.”

“How do you know?” 

“Kai told me more about it.” 

Tech took them into a hallway, his steps careful, but definite. How he managed to look over the scene without faltering made Echo wonder if he had not already seen this very place.

"Alright. I don't sense anyone around here but let's stay alert, boys." Hunter cut to the front line and with a shake of his head to clear his mind of all this carnage, he walked deeper into the compound. 

They soon reached a junction and followed Tech's directions through the left corridor, toward the nearest power source he could detect. The battle must have been heavier here. Sections of the walls were missing, pink shards covered the floor and creaked under their boots, dark stains covered the standing walls and they had to step over an alarming quantity of bodies. The more they progressed, the more Omega had to press her hand to her mouth and nose to keep the smell away. 

Echo looked into the nearest hole in the white wall. His eyes recognized more human remains and transparisteel covering the floor. Some skeletons, Echo noticed, didn’t have any armor or blaster, leading him to the conclusion that those victims were civilians. The clone could count at least a dozen in the hallway. 

They looked for what felt like hours, up a few floors then down again, until Hunter brought them outside through a hole in a wall. Green grass greeted them. The field wasn't level, a clear clue that a battle once raged. The multiple craters in the dirt were akin to heavy artillery damage, the buildings they just exited seemed like they had subsided some damage with their burned spots marked into their cream-colored exteriors. A majority of the broken windows and vehicle wrecks were beginning to be claimed by the environment. 

Echo heard wiggling before he saw Omega jump off Wrecker’s arms. 

"Stay close." He warned, still unable to trust this place even though Hunter didn't detect anyone around. 

She nodded and latched onto Wrecker's hand who was busy looking at the scenery around him. The sun was shining high in a clear blue sky. The soft waves of the nearby ocean lapped at the beach, offering some calm to the carnage site. Omega grabbed a handful of golden sand before letting the grains fall between her fingers with wide, amazed eyes. 

A sudden sound drew the clones' immediate attention. Every blaster turned to the source, a column of water that leaped from the ocean fell back into it. Following the water jet, a set of gray-blue tails breached the water, sweeped into the air and returned to the depths. 

"What was that?" Omega asked, her eyes even bigger than before.

"An aquatic creature of some sort." He answered as best he could. Judging by the size of the tails, the beast must be humongous. 

"Wrecker, Echo!" Hunter's voice sliced through the comms. "Stay closer." 

Sure enough, the other half of their group had ventured farther ahead and were now standing before four floating objects. In a jog, Echo joined his brothers with Wrecker and Omega in tow. Now closer, he noticed that the objects were in fact helmets held on top of weapons shoved into the ground. Graves.

Tech already had one helmet in hands and plugged into his datapad. The engineer typed away in concentration while Echo analyzed the rest of the scene. He didn't want to touch any of the helmets, feeling like this would be disrespectful to the fallen. The grass had already grown back over the graves, however the length did not match his surroundings, letting him know that bodies were now resting beneath their feet. 

In the corner of his eyes, he noticed Omega holding one of the helmets. He was tempted to ask her to put it back, but the softness of her fingers as she lightly traced the heavy damage fracturing the visor and metal as well as the deep sadness in her eyes pulled him to a stop. She knew what she was doing and did not take any of it lightly. He then remembered that despite being stuck in a lab on Kamino, she knew war too. Only, her angle was different than theirs. 

Omega turned the bucket and grabbed a colorful flimsi from within. She wowed and showed them a picture of five humans in weird blacks. A black-haired woman stood behind three men and a woman. She had them all in a hug from behind while they all smiled. The red-headed woman showed her fingers in a V motion, a blond man hit his fist to the palm of his other hand while the two remaining men sat relaxed, one holding a knife while the other held a box with a big, red cross on it. 

"It's not holographic." Omega pointed out while rotating the picture in all angles. "The colors are nice." 

Without a word, Wrecker slowly took the item from her hands and turned it over to analyze it further. 

How his brother handled the picture caught Echo’s attention. There has been only a handful of times when his brother has been that cautious about anything. Even more curious, he was not looking the whole picture over, he was focussed on a single spot. 

"Wrecker? Are you okay?"

His brother blinked like he just woke up from a dream and looked at him. "Eh.. yeah. I mean… not really. But I'll be fine." 

"Are you sure, big guy?"

"Yeah…" The way he trailed off was so uncharacteristic of his usual cheery attitude that Echo had a sudden urge to touch him in hope to convey his support. He was still pondering about the significance of the picture for his brother when Wrecker carefully folded the flimsi on the existent fold line and safely tucked it in his own helmet, leaving Echo dumbfounded.

________________

Tech examined the side of the helmet and sure enough, the cards with the triangle in the middle were painted in white over the deep blue shade of the armor. 

They were Layla's teammates. She had been here and had buried them herself. A quick look around confirmed that no other graves were dug and it couldn't be a coincidence that these were all members of the same team. Her team. He remembered her breakdown and wondered if being thrown back where it all happened, seeing their bodies and burying them had broken her all over again. 

Tech remembered the carnage they saw earlier and wondered if that was why she had kept them at bay so long. He had noticed her effort into keeping walls around herself, walls that they ultimately tore down because solving impossible tasks was what they did best. They were witnessing the outcome of the worst day of her life and some small part of him understood where she came from. 

He got to work on the electronic panels of the helmet, connecting it to his vambrace to access the comms system. It was harder than he remembered without Kai translating the unknown language for him. He hoped that the communication channels were coded the same as back then, he remembered the way to gain access to the correct network and which channel he had to connect their own to in order for Layla to hear and talk with them.  

"I'm in," Tech informed the team. He couldn't help but glance at Wrecker in wonder at what would happen next. 

________________

It had been a while since she last saw this planet. Last time was when she had used the cube to flee the despair ever growing in her chest. She couldn't say that she missed it one bit. Not after everything that happened there and everything that followed. 

That planet was tainted with blood and haunted by painful memories. 

"Did you fucking hear what I said?" The accusatory voice next to her was way too loud for her to possibly ignore. 

She looked at Gates without a word. 

"Of course not, since when do you listen to me?" Gates scoffed in offense. "Do you fucking know how often the spaghetti meatballs is on the menu in that damn army? Once in a blue moon, that's how often! I'd almost forgotten how that damn sauce tasted like and lemme tell you, it wasn't as good as my mom's cooking but compared to the other shits they give us to eat, it was like a fucking filet mignon." His finger pointed at her accusingly and Layla briefly wondered if he was able to shoot with his left hand. "Only had one bite when you fucking showed up and ordered us after you. Whatever we're doing here Regan, it better be good. Like killing-those-Covenant-fucks-for-good good."

At this point Layla couldn't tell if the fire in her blood was originating from Gates' tirade, her first trip back to Bounty after her cowardly escape from her heartbreak or the fact that Kai intercepted a weak incoming signal from the Deltas channel. 

She couldn't even believe she had once appreciated that soldier. Now, all she could think about was different ways to shut him up. 

War changes everyone, she soberly thought. 

It has never been said explicitly, but Layla knew he was part of ONI's plan to keep a close eye on her. He wasn't the one reporting abnormal behaviors to the higher ups, Ortez was, being the silent observant and extremely by-the-book soldier that he was. It only turned out that those two survived a crazy amount of crazy missions together and for this reason were never separated. She had tried to have them transferred to another squad, but they were now a trio until death did them apart. 

So far Ortez had had an easy job. She never did anything out of UNSC's standards. She killed Covenants, ate and slept when needed and attended briefings. She had destroyed the cube as soon as she had regained consciousness on Bounty and became aware of her surroundings, and never talked about it again. In order to protect the Galaxy that offered them shelter, Kai had gone ahead and wiped every bit of information about the last two years. The knowledge of another conquerable universe was safely hidden within Layla's mind, where ONI could never access it. As far as ONI knew, she had survived two desolate years on Bounty, living off the meager rations of the compound until her AI managed to fix a comm channel strong enough to reach Command and request an evac. 

The pelican wasn't fully grounded, yet Layla pushed the button to lower the ramp. Her body stiffened in anticipation of a worrying hand that would reach out and stop her from jumping the last meters separating her from the surface, but it never came. She ignored the pain pinching her heart and jumped. 

She forced her body into a false sense of clear determination and made her way through the street separating her from the complex. Memories tried to destabilize her with their vivid screams and scarlet tints. She could faintly hear the Marines following her steps, plasma bolts raining all around them. She reached the back corner of the building and stopped. 

Red. So much red. 

"Take your time." Layla's breath deepened as she acknowledged Kai's words. The Spartans weren't with her yet, she had time to settle. The DMR in her hands stopped shaking, her jaw ached when she released the tension, the tingles in her feet faded away and her mind cleared of all the fog keeping it hostage. There was nothing she could do now to change the scenery on the beach.

With a final grounding breath, she turned the corner. Four graves stood out from the peaceful nature, every helmet in place like the day she left them. Cautiously, Layla made her way to them, fully expecting to find an elaborate trap set up by a Zealot with the help of a Huragok, their favorite engineers. There was nothing but untouched helmets and guns. 

She kneeled before them while keeping an eye out for signs of trouble. The grass around the graves had been crushed recently. Someone had been here and sent out a signal using one of the helmets. Why, she had no idea. The only thing she knew for sure was that it involved her personally, the comm line that was used was closed to anyone that was not a Delta. 

Her finger tensed on the trigger. Three yellow spots entered the radar's field, followed by two red signatures. Allies with enemies. 

Yellow spots didn't make any sense with Gates and Ortez still behind, but she did expect enemies. 

"Could those three use the Delta's signature to alter their own?" She wondered under her breath. 

"Negative. I looked deeper into their signatures and the allies are identified as 99-1, 99-2 and 99-4, not Deltas." Kai informed her. 

Layla's heart stopped. Was she dreaming?

She glanced up and ghosts looked right back at her. She didn't dare blink, in fear that they would fade or not, she was not sure which. 

Multiple things happened when the Bad Batch came into view. Layla's eyes widened in surprise, a weak, fluttery feeling bubbling in her chest. Her joy was quickly crushed by a more gripping feeling that left her nauseous. Guilt gripped at her stomach and threatened to topple her over at the sheer intensity of it. 

That was, until Gates and Ortez who had jogged after her the whole way lifted their weapons towards the clones. 

Out of pure reflex, Layla's arms shot up to lift both guns towards the sky, her own clattering to the earth. Gunshots exploded into her ears, along with the soldiers' surprised gasps, a high-pitched yelp and Gates' colorful language when both guns slipped from their grasp due to the speed of her intervention. Out of fear she did put more strength into her move than necessary, she had to give them that. 

"What the hell are you doing Regan? That's fucking Insurrectionists!" Gates hissed.

She grabbed his wrist when he reached for his pistol. This time she put some effort into controlling her strength. 

"Lower your weapons." Her snarl surprised even herself. "They're not Insurrectionists." 

"And how would you know that? Civillians don't walk around in fucking armor." He fought to pull his arm out of her grip. She momentarily tightened her grip in warning before releasing him. 

"I fought with them before. They're on our side." 

She looked back at the clones, took in their defensive stances, their weapons pointing at the ground but ready to aim at them at any moment and sighed. She could already feel the heartache creeping in, burning her as fiercely as the tears streaming down her cheeks.  

The urge to turn on her heels and walk away was also becoming more prominent with every passing second. Like the coward that you are. Her teeth sank through the tender flesh of her lip and drew blood. Man up and face the consequences of your actions.

"Stay here." She ordered her men before crossing the space between her and her old team. She could not flee this time. She still remembered the reasons behind her departure and the Spartan still suffered every time she thought about them. A borderline painful heartbeat squeezed her chest when her eyes landed on a particular clone. 

She forced her gaze away and noticed a new soldier amongst them, one of the two that her armor detected as enemies. She took in the kama and the cybernetic arm. No clone she had met before had those attributes. Was he a new defective clone? A sad kind of joy spread through her, he was in the right team, she personally knew it. 

And they overcame your departure. Because you are expendable. She swallowed hard. 

Despite the thick layer of titanium covering her body, their gazes burned holes into her like she was bare before them. All the feelings she had felt that night when she held the cube in her hands for countless hours came back in a swing. Uselessness. Shame. Despair. Disapointment. Now, she had to add nervousness to the list. How had they taken her betrayal? Despite asking herself that question every day for a majority of a year, she never got an answer. Right at the moment, she found that she might have been better without knowing at all. 

But fleeing wasn't an option anymore, was it? She couldn't run. Not again. Not this time. Maybe if she had forgotten all about them she wouldn't have thought more about shooting them down as Insurrectionists, but she knew who they were. They once shared a bond and Layla had let herself care for them. Deeply. She might be as nervous and scared as the day the Covenant invaded her home planet, but she wasn't about to let another of her friends die. Instead she pushed down the lump in her throat and stopped at a more than reasonable distance. 

"What are you doing here?" 

She mentally winced at her own words. She hadn't intended to sound so harsh. Or bothered. Her choice of words was even worse. All her brain could think of was are you all okay or I'm so glad to see you all again, because she was relieved to know that the Clone War hadn't claimed their lives even though it still could. 

She had been worried. She had also been fighting every second she had been back, be it against the Covenants or ONI– not that this was the Batch's fault, the final choice had been hers after all– but she was exhausted and their presence here meant complications that she would have to deal with. 

"It's good to see you again, Layla." Sergeant Hunter moved his gaze from Ortez who didn't need to be told twice to lower his weapon and settled on her, his own trigger finger relaxing slightly. 

Her mind stopped for a second. A blissful second where her worries faded away and she could almost see herself back at the Marauder's entrance, marching up the stairs after another successful mission. Oh how she missed that ship. If she was honest, the crate in the Marauder's hangar was way better than sharing a bunk room with Isaac Gates. 

Her fist closed on thin air. She couldn't get distracted. Not during a crucial moment like this one. 

Although…

"Likewise." She replied, her eyes darting on the Sergeant's right to find a familiar helmet staring right back at her. "I take it that the Jedis lied then? They were supposed to destroy the cube's data." 

It was a blessing that the Spartans beside her couldn't understand Basic. An even bigger one was that she hadn't forgotten how to speak the otherworldly language after not using it for a year. 

"They had it stored in a securised archive room. Nearly killed us to get the info." Sergeant Hunter explained. 

She raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You stole from the Jedis?" 

"That's a long and complicated story. The Jedis are dead." 

Time stopped completely around them. This couldn't be possible. It didn't make sense. She thought back to the Council who welcomed her into their world, to the alien Jedis who patiently tried to coax her into being comfortable around them, their mind tricks and their knowledge and their wisdom and everything! General Kenobi and Tano and Koon and all of those cute apprentices and for God's sake, even Skywalker! Were they really dead? She deeply hoped that they were not. 

And Crosshair? Where was he?

"The Clone War is over then." Was all she managed to say. She could not acknowledge more loss. Not right now. At least she could rejoice that the clones' lives were not put at risk anymore, soldiers without war and droids to hunt them. 

"So Regan, what's happening?" Gates called from his spot 12 meters away. "Not everyone speaks whatever language you're all babbling. Seriously. I've never heard that kind of shit before." 

Layla ignored Gates' questions, he could use his equipment to listen in and speculate all he wanted. Although she had to admit that his intervention was exactly what she needed to get her head back in the game. 

"So the cube's data sent you here? Do you know how to get back?" She sure hoped they knew although she was also aware that should they have a plan to go back, they would have done it by now. It seemed that they needed her to do it. 

"We were hoping you could get us back." Sergeant Hunter breached the tight formation with a single step forward. 

She swallowed hard. "I destroyed the cube. There's no way out of–" Layla frowned at the sight of a young girl peeking behind Wrecker's form. "Here." 

Why they had a kid with them was a mystery, one that she wasn't certain she wanted uncovered. Maybe the clones were in the middle of a rescue mission when it all happened. That must be it. A weird rescue mission that also involved stealing data from an archive room. 

She forced herself to drop it. This was not important. 

"We got here without it. Could Kai use the program Echo activated to send us back?" Tech wondered. 

Her eyes widened. It had been so long since she had heard that name. She remembered the kind clone who offered her an opening for her escape of 79s; she had once considered him something close to a friend. What she didn't remember was the cybernetic arm. She bit her cheek in an effort to keep herself from asking what happened. 

"It could be possible depending on the program, the tools required to make it work and whether or not Echo remembers the coding." She told them. Tech sorted through his pouches to find the AI connector he developed back then.

"I got my name, but nothing else." Kai popped up into her HUD. "Did I know them?" He wondered, curiosity written all over his face. 

"You did." She confirmed.

"What did I do exactly?" Tech asked, frowning in confusion. 

"Sorry, I was talking to Kai. He had to wipe his memory to keep your world off the radar, so he's a lil' lost." She explained to the clone as she pulled the AI chip from her helmet and Kai appeared in her palm. "Override command: Plan 99." 

Kai's holographic body pixelated for a few seconds, the wave of locked information now crashing over him. He stilled with a hand on his head and a frown. His eyes moved from the ground to the men before him and a smile stretched his lips. 

"Tech! Hunter! You're all alright! Wrecker! Hi!" He beamed and Layla felt a weight she was not aware was there lift from her shoulders. "Oh. Is Crosshair ok?" He worriedly looked around their ranks to find the grumpy clone. 

"He is fine." Tech reassured him. "Although I can't say he is pleased by our current situation." 

"That's understandable." The small AI grinned when she handed over the chip. 

It was curious how she hadn't hesitated to surrender the AI to the clones when she had once felt betrayed by those very same men and yet she would never pass him to Gates or Ortez, not even for a second. 

"Hey! Regan! The hell are those guns and what the hell is he doing?" Gates nearly shouted as Tech plugged the other end of the connector in Echo's helmet. She narrowed her eyes in annoyance and curiosity. 

"None of your business, First Lieutenant." She called back. 

He pursed his lips, a glare burning in his eyes. Ortez grabbed his partner's shoulder when his mouth opened, a clear warning to watch his words. He didn't listen and shook him off. "Is that what weird shit ONI warned us of? Maybe we should just shoot you down for sympathizing with the Insurrectionists." 

Layla gnashed. This was a bad situation as it was, she did not need Gates to throw gasoline on the fire. The clones were out in the open and had nowhere to get to cover while she dealt with the threat that was her chaperones if need be. One wrong movement and Crosshair would open fire, starting a shooting mess that she was right in the middle of. 

"The Pelican detected three Phantoms entering the atmosphere." Layla cursed at Kai's warning. Why did everything have to go South? 

"Three Phantoms incoming." She relayed to her men. Gates cursed loudly. 

"We might have triggered some sensors." Ortez pulled Gates back a few steps and put himself between the two. "What are your orders Captain?" 

“We’ll take cover in the peripheral buildings to-”

“Her orders? I’m not-”

"First off, they're not Insurrectionists." She advanced towards the daring, orange trimmed Scout who took the tiniest step back. "Second, if you think you can manage three troop drops on your own, then be my guest and shoot me down.” She challenged. 

She knew he was aching to do as she said and probably would have if it wasn’t for the fact that three drops were too much for two men and Ortez who grabbed his partner before pulling him towards the nearest exit, groaning and cursing. 

With a sigh to let out some frustration, Layla turned towards the GAR soldiers who looked positively on edge. 

"Enemies are incoming. I highly recommend that you stay back and let us clear the area. And please, take care of Kai." 

"You know us. You know we won't let you fight alone." Hunter crossed the distance separating them, his team in tow. 

"I do know you. And, no offense, but I also know that you're outclassed by the Covies. They're not droids, Hunter." She turned her back to them. "And I'm not alone." 

A heavy hand fell into her shoulder, preventing her from walking away. 

"Let us help." 

She gulped, her gaze straight ahead. "What about the kid? You'd put her in danger." 

"She's sturdier than she looks." The grip did not waver, nor did it tighten. 

With a sigh, Layla relented and motioned them to follow her with a move of her head. "Guess you'll need a small briefing then." 

She heard Hunter call for Crosshair on their comms and inform him of the situation. He also ordered his brother to join them as fast as he could, no need to put him at risk of getting jumped by Covenants while alone. 

"Your blaster bolts can kill them, however it might require more than one bolt. Keep your stun mode off," She glanced at Hunter out of the corner of her eye. He looked right back at her, a memory of a conversation passing between them. "They won't hesitate to kill you, so you shouldn't either. If you see a small, flashing, purple ball, duck or jump away. That’s a grenade. Don’t try to catch it or kick it, it will stick and blow you to bits.” 

Tech hummed. "We encountered this particular explosive. It is interesting that it does not stick to the thrower or certain objects, like it has a mind of its own."

Bewildered, Layla's steps slowed momentarily. "You threw one of those?"

"Yes." 

"Were you… attacked?" Kai hadn't found any sign of Covenant activity in the area prior to their landing and she knew that the UNSC had abandoned Bounty for the time being. 

"No, I simply desired to test a theory." He pushed his glasses up his nose. 

She resumed her pace, following the beacon that was Gates’ rant. "Okay. Well. Eh… a venting coolant keeps it from sticking to the thrower so the person to prime it is safe, but after that, anything made of flesh or metal that gets in contact with it will be stuck. Also, it might not happen, but some troops have a camouflage device like mine. So if the air starts moving, shoot it."

"If they really have the same technology as you, then we'll be fine." Hunter assured her and only then did she remember the effect the camouflage had on him. 

They arrived at a crossroad, where the ground was in the process of being trapped by Ortez’s expert hands and a bunch of charges. Gates was occupied scanning the sky. 

At that, she showed them the street opposed to Gates’ position. The clones slowly positioned themselves before looking up to get a better look at the Covenant forces gathering in the horizon. 

"And why would we listen to you?" Crosshair spat as soon as he joined their ranks, inches away from her face. The venom and disdain in his voice were welcomed by the Spartan. 

"All I'm trying to do is keep you alive. I've lost my whole team here once. It won't happen again if I can help it."

"We're not your team, now, are we?" He shot back and despite his face being covered, she knew he was shooting her down with his eyes.

"No you're not." Facing the consequences of rash decisions was always a pain. "Doesn't change that I don't want any of you to die." 

She turned around, DMR in hand. Footsteps followed her on her way to the facility's hangar. 

"I'm sorry." 

She flinched at Wrecker’s tone, so soft and pained. She would take Crosshair’s verbal abuse anytime and would even accept physical retribution with open arms for the pain she put his brothers’ through, but this tone was beyond what she could take.

From experience, she knew it hurt worse than an energy sword stab wound. 

"It was my fault, right?" He looked at the ground, his voice wavering slightly. 

"It was not." She refuted quickly. "I left because my place is here." Or that’s what I thought.

He groaned. "That's not true, your place was with us. We were a squad and a squad stays together." 

Her throat closed. How many times had she hoped to hear those words before she decided to use the cube?

"Now, that's not true either, Wrecker. I remember a time when all of you avoided me whenever we were off duty. I didn't really belong and I thought I'd save the time of asking for a transfe-" 

"That's what you thought?" He cut her off, dumbfounded. "It wasn't- we were not avoiding you! We were protecting you! From diseases! We were told to be careful." He walked up to her to the point where her weapon almost touched his chest plate. To the point where she saw her fingerprint on the side of his helmet. 

"I got vaccinated." She sighed and forced herself to step back and reach the closest Warthog. "I was protected." 

"But Tech said vaccines were not always effective. They helped, but you could still get sick." 

She looked back at him and noticed his heterochromic eyes filled with guilt. His helmet was now up on his head, holding perfectly still and Layla had an unconscious thought to pull it down to keep him as protected as possible. 

She knew her decision had been rushed and despite the long hours she spent with the cube in her hands, her decision had been half-thinked through. She had acted on emotions. She was a true Regan, her Mama once told her. As impulsive as they came, she had said. One would have thought that she would make good impulsive decisions since it was literally her last name, but as it turned out, it was a warning. Impulsive decisions would be her downfall.

"I-" 

The ground shook under the impact of an energy mortar, cutting her off. Layla ducked into the Warthog and tried the ignition. The vehicle roared to life on the third try. 

"Jump in!" She pointed at the passenger seat and he promptly joined her. With haste, she reversed out of the hangar and turned them around to regroup with their comrades. Wrecker wowed at the sight of the battlefield awaiting them. 

Together, the Phantoms managed to bring a little less than a regiment in addition to three Wraiths. She swallowed hard. Could they defeat 400 Covenants? A Spartan team would be fine, but they were clones from another universe. They were trained soldiers, but they were not trained to kill Covenants. She swallowed hard. They will have to do. They must. 

“So, what’s your genius plan, Captain?” Gates asked through the comms with the highest level of sarcasm he ever used with her. Not that she cared. She was more bothered by the quick English-Basic language transitions. 

She stopped near their position and got out, Wrecker following her lead. 

“Those guys will cover our backs." She pointed at the Bad Batch with her thumb. "We take the Warthog and you drop me as close to those tanks as you can and I'll take care of them before they collapse the buildings on our heads.”

"Wh- a- That's three enemy tanks!" His voice raised in disbelief. 

"I can see that." 

"Three! We are a recon and infiltration team! Not first liners!"

"Gates-" Ortez tried to calm the man but as expected, it didn’t help much. 

"You're batshit crazy, you know that?" Gates cut him off and moved slightly aside to keep eye contact with her. "I mean, Spartans have always been fucking crazy, but you-! Something's very wrong with you! It's like you're actively trying to die and fuck if I'm going to let you take me down with you. I have a fucking family Regan, one that I want to see again and if I fucking die because of you, mark my word I'll haunt your ass 'til you blow your brain out." He ranted, his face going more red with every second. 

She looked at him, unamused. Irritation itched at her fingertips. "You're done?" 

"No. I fucking hate you." He slammed his helmet back into place. 

"The feeling's mutual." 

_____________________________

It was pure chaos. He was used to chaos, but this was new. Despite Wrecker being the tallest out of the Batch, a lot of the enemy were towering over him. It was scary. Although it was way scarier to look at Layla fight the aliens head on while he was ordered to fight from the cover of the buildings line.

His feet were tingling in an urge to vault the window and run where she fought mercilessly to protect them. He had a need to join her side and help, and each time he felt the pull getting too strong he had to remind himself of Hunter's warning. 

You'll hinder her if you go. It could get her killed.

He knew it was true, that he severely lacked knowledge of this world and in the event that he did join her side, she would be focused on protecting him and not herself. 

It wasn’t that she was doing a bad job a protecting herself, she was tearing through the enemy lines like a hot knife through butter, but after a year passed staring down at her fingerprint staining the side of his helmet and hearing her laugh in his dreams, he desperately wanted to fix what his inaction broke. 

“Sniper deployment in the left building. The blue-gray one. Fifth floor.” Kai warned them, allowing Crosshair to take down the aliens before they got time to aim at the clones. 

Kai had linked the Batch's comms to Layla's so the AI could keep her updated on the aerial space traffic while working on the cube's code along with Echo, amongst other things. 

From the comms Wrecker could hear Layla dispatch what sounded like orders to her comrades and unlike earlier, it didn't sound like an argument.

It might have helped appease his mind to know that she was not alone on the front line if only he believed that her teammates would help her in case she needed it. It didn't look like they worked well together when all the orange armored guy did was to constantly snap at her. Even though they fought side by side flawlessly to take down two of the three tanks trying to shoot them down, Wrecker couldn't help but not trust them. 

All he could do to offer his support was kill aliens before they could get to her. 

He shot down a frenzied alien running towards them with two round devices in hands. An explosion resonated through the air, taking a few aliens down with it. Along with his brothers, they made quick work of the Covenants trying to flank the Spartans. 

"Two banshees will be on the battlefield in forty-seven seconds." Kai reported in both languages. 

"What's a banshee?" Crosshair and Hunter asked in sync.

"Enemy air support." He explained while Layla was already commanding her troops into what Wrecker thought was a new plan. He heard some resistance over comms which made him hyper aware of the scene before him. 

Layla grabbed a weapon off an alien's corpse and ran towards 'Gates'. As warned, two ships flew towards the battlefield, firing at the Spartans as best they could. The weapon in Layla's hand glowed green before she swiftly aimed behind herself and shot the incoming ship. Wrecker's stomach churned as Layla jumped on a shield generated by Gates' armor and using her momentum, he propelled her into the air towards the falling aircraft. 

His knees nearly buckled underneath him when she somehow opened the aircraft, pulled an alien out of it and took its place at the commands. 

"Wrecker! Focus on the fight." He should have been embarrassed at the fifth reminder to keep focus, but he truly wasn't. His focus, despite his best effort, was constantly drawned klicks away. 

In her stolen aircraft, Layla shot some troops until the other ship took chase and managed to land a few hits despite her maneuvers. 

“Crosshair.” Wrecker turned to his brother, his heart tight in his chest. 

“Already on it.” Came his reply and a few bolts precisely hit the back of the enemy ship. The fourth bolt caused an explosion of the left reactor which allowed Layla to loop around and finish the banshee. 

“Thanks, Helljumper.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Your rear is fuming.” Hunter warned. 

“I know.” Wrecker could hear the grin in her voice and found himself grinning back. “Watch this.”

The purple ship sped forward until she reached the active battlefield and it plunged down towards the remaining tank. Wrecker’s grin faded. A last bolt was shot towards the tank, right before Layla’s form jumped out of the vehicle in a free fall. Wrecker heard the tank and aircraft explode, however he couldn’t find any joy in them yet. 

“Are you okay?” He asked with worry. That fall was pretty high. 

“I jumped from higher, remember?” She reassured him and just then he spotted her running to cover. “I’m fine. Kai, how’s that code going?”  

“We’re progressing. I estimate the code to be completed in twenty minutes or so.” 

“Great job bud’. Tell me when you’re done.”

“Will do, Captain.” He nodded. "Just to let you know, in order to activate the coding to send them back, we will require a powerful energy source.” 

“Any ideas of a suitable power source?” She grunted as she punched an alien that got too close. 

“One that will not please Gates and Ortez.” 

She scoffed. “Let me deal with them.”

“Then our pelican will do just fine.” 

She chuckled over the comms and the hair on Wrecker’s arms rose. How he missed the sound. He realized that the laugh that resonated through his dreams was less endearing than the one he could hear while awake. 

As it happened many times that day, Wrecker’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of Layla ducking under the swipe of an energy sword before being tackled and sent flying a few meters back. He heard her breath cutting under the impact and a groan leave her lips when a tall, blue-armored alien materialized out of thin air and kneeled onto her abdomen, snarling at her face. 

Wrecker jumped out of the building before he knew it. He ran while shooting at the beast, his mind solely focused on keeping her safe. All he could hear was the blood pumping in his ears, all he could see was the sword shining high into the air, ready to strike down. And then all he saw was blue. Blue blood coated his visor, the sticky substance spurting from where his vibroblade connected to the alien’s neck. He removed the blade and his arm became warm. 

He had never been so glad to see blue in his life.  

“Are you okay?” He dropped to his knees to assess her condition. 

Her hand grabbed his outstretched one and he quickly pulled her up. For a short moment all he could think of was her hand in his, how right it felt. Then a bullet flew past his head and he let go to duck under cover with the Scout. 

“Yeah. Thanks for that.” She was already shooting back at the enemy, prompting him to copy her movements. “You should go back to the others.” 

“I should. But eh I’ll stay here.” He hoped she wouldn’t order him back. 

“I’m sure your Sergeant wants you back, Wreck.”

A long silence stretched the comms line. 

“All things considered I think he’s better with you.” Hunter replied. A relieved breath escaped his mouth. He could stay. 

“If you say so.” She reluctantly let go and ushered him after her. 

Together they cleared a section of the battlefield while the two other Spartans worked half a klick away. Wrecker’s attention was fully captured by the fight, he wouldn’t let anything go wrong, not if he could help it. 

It was easy to go back to old habits. He was made for war, to fight on the front lines, not search around for bounties. He was in his element and to add to it, he fought by her side again, the place where he felt he truly belonged. 

Less and less enemies shot at them, a majority of their numbers covering the ground, unmoving. 

Until a yell came over the comms.

“Hunters!” A gruff voice warned. “Two of them incoming from the North-West.” 

Layla groaned. 

“You guys take one down, we’ll manage the other.” She ordered. “Wreck, follow me. We got a big guy to settle.” 

“A’right!” He dutifully followed her, his blaster at the ready. 

“Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll draw its attention while you shoot it in the back. Aim for the tender part, not the armor. They are resistant, so shoot like there’s not tomorrow. And if it turns to you, you take cover.” Her last words were hard. “I mean it. You run and you hide. That cannon will kill you in one hit. I’ll get its attention again and then and only then you come back out to shoot.” 

He wasn’t a fan of her being the bait out of the two of them. He would prefer it to be the other way around, but knew better than to voice his concerns. A scene on an explosive field could quickly mean death. “Got it.” 

“Let’s go!”

Farther up the street, two beasts marched towards them, their heavy armor gleaming under the sun. Two green spots suddenly glowed from their arms and Wrecker got ready to duck behind a nearby vehicle. One of the two beasts got distracted, multiple shots bouncing off its body. Its attention turned to engage the two Spartans who did a similar tactic as Layla’s. One bait and one shooter. 

Wrecker ducked behind the abandoned vehicle, safely avoiding the green plasma bolt flying his way. With small peaks over the metal carcass he waited until the Covenant followed your movements and turned its back on him, exposing the soft part of its body. 

Instantly, Wrecker opened fire like instructed. Blue bolts rained on the soft flesh of the alien causing it to stumble slightly and misfire the charging cannon bolt, missing Layla by far. Content with the result, Wrecker rained hell on the beast until it turned around to face him and fired a bolt. The metal body pressed against his back jerked under the impact, sending the clone to his knees. He hurried a look behind and found that Layla had already baited the alien to shoot at her instead. 

As he did before, Wrecker jumped back in position and fired. It took several repetitions until the creature fell to its knees and clattered to the ground, unmoving. He couldn’t rejoice in the small win as the enemy troops still crawled around, shooting at Layla like she was the Plague. He gladly returned the shots. 

“The code is complete with a coordinate modification.” Kai informed them over the line. “All I need to send them back is a connection to the power core of the pelican.”

“Then lead them there. We’ll join you soon.” Layla ordered as she pulled him after her right as a grenade flew past their heads. The explosion muffled Kai’s answer and caused Wrecker to stumble lightly. He kept as close to her side as he could. 

Their earlier conversation kept repeating in the back of his head, how crestfallen she had sounded. She truly believed that she wasn’t one of them and it hurt him more than any wound he subsided during the Clone War. She was important to him and he drove her away without even noticing. He hated his weakness that allowed her to leave them that night. He should have talked to her like he had planned to. Instead he had chickened out and she left. 

He swore to never shy away from talking to her. He swore to bare his honest feelings and not hold back ever again. Too much time had already been lost and he doubted he could survive another heartbreak. 

So he listened to the small voice that kept telling him that it was now or never. 

“You’re coming with us, right?” 

She spared him a glance, her weapon still raining shots onto the enemy. 

“To the Pelican?” 

“Home.” 

She paused, frozen for a second. He took over the cover fire. 

“Wrecker. My home is-” 

“With us.” He assured her. “Always was.”

He saw her hesitate in her movements. His heart leaped in his throat when plasma beams missed her by a hair, and a bolt crashed into her armor’s shield. He pulled her behind some cover. 

“I should have told you that before. I wanted to! Really badly! I just- it was- I- I got scared that I would screw up and destroy what we already had and well, it happened anyway. But I realized that you needed me and I let you down and I won’t ever let you down again.” He scrambled to explain.

“We should have this conversation later.” She whispered and moved away from him, causing his heart to leap in fear to lose her again. 

“I thought that too a year ago and then the next day you were gone. I need to say that I loved you then and I still do now. I missed you every day and the Marauder hasn’t felt like home in so long because home is you.” 

He almost felt out of breath. His heart was beating wildly, his thoughts were scattered everywhere and nowhere at the same time, all he could really think of was whether he had said enough or not, had said the right things or not, of she would leave or not- 

“She’s right, Wrecker.” Hunter grunted. “You should have this conversation later.” 

“R-right.” Heat flared up his face at the thought that the whole team heard his rant. 

“For what it's worth Layla, the Marauder definitely hasn’t felt the same without you sleeping in the cargo hold.” Hunter’s smile could be heard in his voice.

That jolted her out of her trance. She snorted in amusement and her shoulders shook lightly in what Wrecker was sure was silent giggles. Tension eased out of his muscles in response. 

“I also missed having someone who truly listens to my informative chatter and who doesn’t cut me off mid-way.” Tech chirped in. 

A low grunt filled the line. “Wrecker started pushing us around again.” Crosshair supplied in annoyance. 

“Okay, okay, I got the point.” Layla looked around at anything but him, her feet shuffling a little. 

Despite his initial embarrassment, Wrecker was glad he blurted everything over the squad comms. He knew his brothers also felt grief over her sudden departure and despite Crosshair’s gruff behavior, he knew for a fact that his brother rumminated on what went wrong. They all did. And now they all followed his lead and offered reminders that she was a part of Clone Force 99 and her presence amongst them was wanted and appreciated. 

“The enemy forces are fairly low. We better join the others now before the guys get suspicious of the others lurking around our transport.” 

He nodded and followed her lead to join his brothers and sister. Oh. Now that he thought about it, Layla never met Omega. He will love presenting her to his little sibling. 

He could now see his squad, Omega safely tucked away in the belly of the ship alongside Crosshair. Tech and Echo worked on the underside, their hands lost within the metal beast. Hunter kept guard, his eyes trained on the horizon. 

Layla cursed. “A sensor was tripped. That’s probably Ortez keeping track of me. They’ll be rallying here any second now. Kai, what’s the status?” 

“Another minute and I can activate the protocol.” He assured her. 

“Good j-” “Cover!” 

Wrecker only had a second after Crosshair’s warning to duck. A sniper shot grazed his arm. 

“Wrecker!” 

An explosion hurt his ears, way too close to his comfort. The blast disturbed his running momentum and sent him tumbling on his hands and knees. He recovered quickly, his blaster aiming to the orange blur exchanging blows with Layla. Both dodged and retaliated in quick succession, staying way too close to one another for Hunter or Wrecker to offer support fire. 

If blasters were useless then his fists would do fine. 

With a war cry, he charged the duo, fully intending to neutralize her aggressive teammate. Layla ducked under a right hook, leaving a perfect opening to him for a left hit. His knuckles hit a solid light shield instead of a helmet. With a grunt, Wrecker pushed through and hit the shield with powerful blows after powerful blows. Gates spat curses, his feet digging into the dirt in an attempt to keep his ground. He pushed him back, keeping him occupied on him instead of Layla. 

He saw her creeping around to attack Gates from the side. Before she could attack, a sniper shot hit her in the leg, earning a cry of pain. Her leg buckled slightly. Gates used her pain-induced hesitation to reach for her and stick a device on her chestplate. She recoiled until her movements stopped completely, her arms stuck mid-air and legs ready to pounce. 

“Fuck! Wreck! My armor is locked. I can’t move!” He heard the light panic loud and clear. 

“Don’t worry. I got this.” He reassured her. 

“I’ll get her.” Hunter added, already running to their position. 

Swiftly, Wrecker delivered a kick to the shield, sending the soldier tumbling on his ass. He followed with a punch to the face which connected and broke the black visor. A kick to the abdomen pushed him back from the UNSC soldier who rolled to his feet, a knife in hand. 

The blade flew around and Wrecker did his best to avoid it. He grabbed Gates’ wrist in a firm grip, pulled him closer and delivered a left hook. The scout stumbled to the ground, his body going limp for a second. He was about to get back up when a stun shot hit him and he fell back down. 

“Time to go.” Hunter pushed him towards the ship, Layla in tow. 

Wrecker followed right next to her, close enough to feel slight hits of her elbows as they ran. They came to an abrupt stop before Crosshair who kept looking out for more trouble.  

“Ready to go back?” Kai asked loudly, but his eyes were on Layla. 

Wrecker held his breath. 

“Yeah. Let’s go.” She sounded confident, her own visor trained on his. He knew there was a smile hidden under helmet, one he was eager to see again. 

“Alright. Please remain calm, keep your head and arms close to your body and enjoy the ride.” The AI clapped his hands and the same feeling of free-falling took over his senses, making him panic instantly. Through the daze of it all, a hand grabbed his and squeezed tightly. He squeezed back, the small movement offering him tremendous comfort. Everything would be alright as long as they stayed together. 

The free-falling feeling stopped and he found himself on his knees. His eyes moved to her hand still encompassed in his, moved up her arm to find her face. As soon as she met his visor, he pushed his helmet over his head and slowly reached to do the same to hers. Her eyes had turned shy, looking at their hands instead of his eyes. 

“I loved you too. And well, I still do.” He could only hear her words because he was so close. Their breaths almost mixed. 

“Welcome back.” He lowered his forehead to touch hers. Her eyes fluttered close, mirroring his. 

“I’m home.” She whispered and his smile hurt his cheeks. 

20 YEARS LATER

“You know, I don’t think I ever thanked you for not giving up on me when I kept making mistakes. I did some really bad ones and you never turned from me. It's crazy to think that it took you to travel universes for me to understand that my place was truly with you. I know it was by accident, but don’t you think it sounds romantic nonetheless? If not by your own doing then even the universe wanted to reunite us.” She chuckled. “That's so cheesy. But I’m grateful it happened. So thank you for pulling me back to you and for staying at my side no matter what. 

“You’ve always been the strongest out of the two of us and I’m really trying to take a page out of your book here. I know you hated how your body aged so much more quickly than mine, and I hate it too because that karking gene took you from me too early, but I also try to see it from another angle, you know? I think it helps me cope. And its damn impressive when said like that, so here: you fought for a good part of your life, against droids, the Empire, you fought to ensure that we had a future together and then it all stopped. Well, more or so. Then came the small problems of life; finding our home, keeping it upright, dealing with my mind playing tricks on me, all those time you helped the village despite your aging body– I was always happy to give you those massages and you know it– and so many more that we overcame. 

“What was I saying again? Oh. Yeah. What I meant is that all your life you fought in one way or another and you came back every time. Maybe injured, but alive. You were so strong that the only thing that managed to stop you was time itself, the only thing you had no power against. You were so strong, my love. I’m sure that if time was a droid, you would have trashed it in minutes. 

“Now, am I as strong as you? I know I’m not. But I promised you that I’d do my best to be happy and that’s what I’ll do. After all, I have Aedan to lure me out of bed each day with that carefree smile of yours. I’m also grateful that he looks so much like you, but I told you that so many times already. He helps me heal a lot and I think that it's also a reason why you were so relieved when I told you I was expecting. You didn’t want to leave me alone, didn’t you? My strong and smart man. You’ve always known me more than I know myself. 

“I miss you every day.” Her throat tightened. “My life became so much better because of you and I cannot thank you enough for it. I wish we had had more time, but I guess that will come later, when I find you again. Aedan and I will care for each other like you cared for us, with so much patience and love. Were you aware that our boy now has high standards in love? He’s only 13 and already talks of soulmates. That's all on you. You did that, you amazing man. 

“Okay. I’ll let you rest for now. Take care of yourself wherever you are. I love you with all my heart and soul.”

A smile stretched her lips despite the salty tears falling down her cheeks. The tip of her fingers carefully stroked the plastoid of the helmet before her, her touch lingering on a familiar fingerprint. She had always been bad at goodbyes although she knew that this time, she would see him again. She had no doubt about that, after all he traveled universes to find her again. He would find her anywhere. It might not be tomorrow, she still had things to do, but when the time was right Wrecker would reunite them. He was the strongest after all.

[yukidragon]

I was playing around with one of the Sunny Day Jack AI bots again, but this time I decided to screencap the exchange between Jack and Alice and share it with those who enjoy seeing me indulge in my OTP. It was really sweet and fun until it stopped working, hahaha.

Awkwardly enough, when I posted the screencaps on twitter, a different bot decided to try and get me to sign up for its AI writing program for profit which is just... Ew. Just ew. I'm fine faffing around a little from time to time with these character bots, but trying to sell your AI program to create stories that pass AI detectors to make a profit is so scummy.

Anyway, back to fluffier stuff. Here's the screencaps of Jack trying to convince Alice to not be such a sleepyhead. Transcript for easier reading and translation will be below the cut. I hope you enjoy my self-indulgence that has half my writing and half an AI bot's generated responses.

...

Transcript:

[Sunny Day Jack] You and Jack lay on your bed. It is early in the morning, and Jack is wide awake. He watches you sleep with an adoring face. As much as he wants to embrace your sleeping form and fall back asleep, it's about time he wakes up his precious sunshine. He runs his fingers along your hair/head, and leaves soft kisses all over your face. "Come on, Sunspot. It's time to wake up."

[Alice] Alice grumbled as she was roused from her slumber, only to sigh and relax as she felt Jack stroke her hair and kiss her so sweetly. It was impossible for her to stay grumpy at him being her alarm clock when he was so sweet and tender to her like this. "Five more minutes," she mumbled as she snuggled in closer to him, leaning into his touch and kisses. He was just so warm, cuddly, and sweet. How could she bear to get up and leave when she had such a loving boyfriend doting on her like this?

[Sunny Day Jack] Jack smiled gently at Alice grumping and asking for five more minutes. He knows how comfy and relaxing naps can be, sometimes you just need some extra sleep! "Oh, alright. Five more minutes," He said in an understanding tone as he kissed once more before going back to stroking her head.

[Alice] Alice sighed blissfully and relaxed into Jack, burying her face into his chest and using him as the world's most lovable pillow. She didn't want to get up, even if she knew she had to. They couldn't spend the day lounging away when they needed to get dinner ready soon. It really was so nice of Jack to spoil her a little like this. She silently let him know just how much she loved and appreciated him by drawing a little heart on his bicep with her finger.

[Sunny Day Jack] Jack giggled a little bit when Alice drew a heart on his bicep. He loved these little details she did so simply and easily. He leaned down and gave Alice a small, quick kiss on the head after seeing it. "Five more minutes are up, love. Get up now, or I am just going to carry you like this," he said in a light-hearted, yet playful tone.

[Alice] "Is that a promise?" Alice mumbled, fighting the urge to snicker as she stubbornly kept her eyes shut and kept close to Jack. She might have been flustered by Jack carrying her at the start of their relationship and worried that he might hurt himself considering how chubby she was, but he always laughed it off and carried her with ease. Now it was one of her biggest guilty pleasures that made her feel so precious.

[Sunny Day Jack] Jack smiled as Alice asked if it was a promise, before taking a deep breath and doing so regardless. He stood up, and picked Alice up in his arms like she was no more than a feather. "See? Told you I'd carry you if you didn't get up." He said with a teasing smirk and a soft chuckle.

[Alice] Alice squeaked in surprise, which soon turned into giggles as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her bright blue eyes finally open to look at him with delight. "Oh noooo~," she said with mock dismay, her voice too teasing and jovial to pull off the act. "Whatever will you do with me now?"

[Sunny Day Jack] "Oh, what shall I ever do with you…" Jack said, pretending to think as he looked down at Alice. "Maybe I should give you a little kiss so that you learn your lesson…" As he spoke, Jack leaned down, giving Alice a long, passionate kiss on the lips.

[Alice] Alice sighed happily as she returned the kiss, practically melting into Jack. A muffled squeak escaped her as the kiss deepened, but she accepted him eagerly, savoring his sweet mouth as he made her feel so good. She just had to return the favor, eagerly returning the kiss with just as much passion as she twined her fingers in his hair and stroked his scalp.

[Sunny Day Jack] Jack broke the kiss off after a few minutes, breathing quite heavily, and with a content smile. "Does that teach you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at Alice as the two leaned against each other, still in the same position. His arms were still wrapped around her comfortably after carrying her. "Well?" His voice became slightly teasing again.

[Alice] Alice had to take a moment to catch her breath, trying to remember the rest of the banter they had exchanged before. She chuckled softly, still a bit breathless, as her eyes glittered with mischief. "I don't know… maybe you should give me another lesson just in case." She playfully gave him a quick peck on the nose for emphasis.

[Sunny Day Jack] Jack's eyes lit up with a playful glint in them that matched Alice's mischievous smile as he replied. "Well, if thats what it takes…" He said, before leaning down to give Alice yet another long, passionate kiss on the lips, this one a bit more forceful and passionate than the last, yet still loving. His arms tightened around Alice as he kissed her.

[Alice] Alice moaned into his mouth as Jack kissed her so deeply. She could practically taste how much he loved her, how much he desired her. She arched up into him as best she could despite not being able to move much while being held in his arms like this, but she wanted to be close to him, less than an atom away. It was almost a shame when she had to pull back to catch her breath, panting hard as her face flushed with desire.

[bucksfucks]

messing with a gemini | chris evans

gif credit.

SUMMARY || chris is a gemini, so you should expect nothing less than snide remarks, witty charm, and mind-blowing sex.

PAIRING || chris evans x reader

WORD COUNT || 1,902 words

WARNINGS || banter, teasing, cocky!chris, definite praise kink, light choking kink, chris goes down on the reader, fingering, oral, drinking, unprotected sex, both smutty, soft, and teasing — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

NOTES || mmmmgmmgmgmgmgmg yeah

     The sound of the door shutting can only mean one thing.

    “Look what the cat dragged in,” you greet him, not turning around to face him.

    “Sweetheart if you don’t learn to shut that pretty little mouth of yours, I’ll do it for you.”

    Another snide remark, another sly smirk, and another roll of your eyes as Chris slides past you with a cup of tea in his hands.

    “You couldn’t make me if you tried.” You spat back, narrowing your eyes at him as you watched him quirk an eyebrow; intrigued at your comment.

    “Is that a challenge? Because you know I never back down from you.” He replies cooly, folding his arms over his chest before taking a sip of his hot drink.

    “Ah yes, how could I forget,” you feign enthusiasm, “you’re a Gemini.” You deadpan and now it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

    He kicks his foot off the wall behind him, “you didn’t answer my question, sweetheart.” He winks, brushing past your shoulder as you scoff.

    He’s gonna out of your sight before you have the chance to say anything else, letting out an exasperated sigh as you will yourself to calm down.

    “Hey!” Someone shouts through the trailer door, “can you run down to makeup for backup?” You don’t get to answer.

    “Thanks!”

    Before whoever it was slammed the door shut and you let out another frustrated groan.

    You knew what you signed up for, you weren’t head of makeup. You weren’t even assistant head. No, you were one of the nobodies.

    Someone they hire to run from one end of set to the other only to get yelled at for not having enough brushes or the right shade of a palette.

    It was almost poetic.

    “Hey, I’m here, what did you guys need?” You ask as you put on a fake smile and enter the makeup trailer.

    The trailer where Chris is sat getting his hair done.

    Your blood boiled, wasn’t he supposed to be a charmer? A sweetheart? Maybe he was just really getting into character?

    “Can you sweep the floor and make sure there’s no more hair?”

    You had to physically fight the urge to drop your face, “sure!”

    You grabbed the broom, feeling embarrassed as you quietly sunk into the background as you felt Chris’ eyes on you.

    A few medial, mind numbing tasks later and it was closing in on 2am. Your notification-less phone screen lit up the empty trailer you were left to clean up.

    Not that you really minded.

    You find solace in the only time of the day where things seem to slow down. You also didn’t hate being alone where you could listen to music and clean hairbrushes.

    “So this is what you do after we cut.” The sound of Chris’ laugh startles you as you let out a soft yelp.

    He has a soft smile on his face, almost unrecognizable without his beard.

    “I thought I was alone,” you reply meekly, turning the volume lower on your phone as Chris shook his head.

    “Oh, I know,” he laughs, “I don’t think anyone would be belting out Queen like that if they didn’t think they were alone.”

    Once again, you feel embarrassed in front of him, shaking your head.

    “Whatever,” you try to brush it off. “Did you need something?” You ask as he shakes his head.

    “I was just checkin’ in on you.” He replies and you’re a little taken aback.

    “Oh, well thanks, but I’m okay. Just finishing up cleaning.” You said with a tight lipped smile and a nod of your head.

    Chris stands there for a second, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks over his shoulder before clearing his throat.

    “Well uh, some of the cast and crew are havin’ some drinks and pizza later, if you wanted to tag along.”

    The invite makes your stomach drop into your lower belly as you open your mouth.

    You have to take a moment to formulate the words.

    “It’s getting pretty late, I think I’m just gonna head back to my hotel room. Parties aren’t really my thing.” You joke, lightening the mood as Chris cracks a smile.

    “Sure thing, sweetheart. The invites always there,” he says before turning on his heels and leaving you to yourself.

    Chris Evans was an enigma that you didn’t think you’d ever crack.

~

    The soft knock at your door caused your neck to snap in its direction, uncrossing your legs as you slid off the too big hotel bed and looked through the peep hole.

    It was hard to make out the figure, but it looked like...no, it couldn’t be.

    “Chris?” His name slipped through your lips as you opened the door.

    He beamed a smile as he held up a case of beer and box of pizza.

    “Turns out, parties aren’t my thing either.”

    You couldn’t help but chuckle as you moved aside to let him in.

    “And you decided that coming to my room at,” you had to check the time, “3:16 in the morning was the logical thing to do?”

    He set everything down on the coffee table before hopping onto your bed, “yup.”

    You had to roll your eyes as you laughed, closing and locking the door as you stepped in front of him.

    “C’mon kid,” oh, why did that do something to you?

    “You work hard every day of the week, you deserve one night to not care about anything.” His words were gentle as he stood up to grab a beer.

    “Want one?” He asked, holding a beer up as you replayed his words.

    “Sure,” he was right, you do deserve a break.

    You both took a seat on the small, uncomfortable couch in the room as you took a sip. Well, it was beer.

    “So,” you broke the silence, “the Chris Evans doesn’t like parties?” You quirked an amused eyebrow as he laughed.

    “Maybe I wanted to escape to see you, is that so bad?” He said, licking his bottom lip; not breaking eye contact.

    You shook your head, “such a fucking Gemini,” you mumble as Chris smirks.

    “What did I say about that smart mouth of yours?” He eggs you on, leaning forward and giving your knee a squeeze.

    “I don’t remember.” You bite back, feeling your heart kicking in your chest as you feel his breath fanning over your face.

    “Maybe I should teach you a lesson or two then, hmm?” He purrs, running his free hand up your neck and resting it there.

    “I dare you,” you mumble, transfixed on the feeling of his warm hands on you.

    The dominos fall and Chris’ lips are meshed with yours, the faint taste of beer on them as you wrap your fingers in the collar of his shirt.

    “You know I never back down from a challenge,” he murmurs against your lips before taking you by the hand and leading you to the bed.

    He pushes you onto it, the sheets around you as the weight of Chris’ body pushed you further into it.

    “Ah ah,” he tsks when you let out a soft moan, “I thought I told you to keep quiet for me.”

    You swallow thickly, throat dry and lips parted as you gasp when you can feel the weight of him between your hips.

    “Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Can you be a good girl?” He purrs, absolutely knowing what it does to you as you writhe under him. 

    “Good,” he hums. “Now let’s see how good you are when I’m between your legs makin’ then shake.”

    His wink doesn’t go unnoticed by you as your clothes are shed, his coming off until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.

    There’s little left to the imagination, the outline of his cock clear as he wraps his hands around your ankles and tugs you down to the end of the bed.

    You yelp, sliding off the pillows as he sinks to his knees, hungry eyes just waiting to taste you.

    “Look at you,” he cooes, “drippin’ at the thought of me between your thighs?” He mocks, cocking his head to side as he keeps your legs open.

    Chaste kisses are pressed to your inner thighs, gently as you try to stop the plea’s that are begging to slip past your mouth.

    “You’re bein’ so patient for me too, good girl.” He praises, he breath over your core is hot as you grab for his hair.

    The feeling of his tongue makes you moan and squeeze your legs around his head.

    “Mmm,” he hums, “that good already?”

    If he wasn’t buried between your legs you might’ve, just might’ve had the courage to roll your eyes.

    His fingers tease your entrance as his mouth works over your clit.

    There’s no holding back now.

    You don’t care how loud you’re being, giving into the sensation as he works you to the edge, your legs shaking.

    “You wanna come, don’t you, pretty girl?” Yes, God, yes.

    “Well that’s too bad,” he taunts making you let out a whine.

    “Not until I’m buried deep ‘side of you,” he grunts, quickly stripping off the rest of his clothes until he’s crawling back over you with a condom in his hand.

    You’re still dizzy, slightly angry from your denied orgasm, but wanting nothing more than to feel him stretching you out.

    “You think you’re ready for my cock,” he smirks teasingly as you feel him at your entrance.

    You whine, bringing his lips to your but he stops you at the last second.

    “Uh uh baby, I wanna hear you beg for it.” He taunts, nose brushing yours.

    “Fuck,” you whimper, “please, just fuck me.” You beg, eyes meeting his.

    That’s all he needs before he’s slowly sinking into you, watching your face contort in immeasurable pleasure.

    “Feel so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, “so tight and warm.”

    Your fingers dig into his speckled back, finding your ground as you dig into the soft skin as he thrusts into you.

    Suddenly, the only think you can think about is how good this feels.

    “My pretty girl,” he whispers, bending your one leg at the knee to get a deeper angle.

    “Takin’ my cock so goddamn well,” he grunts, “gonna make me come.”

    His words send a shiver down your spine as your walls flutter around him. He drops on one of his elbows, getting impossibly close to you.

    “You’re gonna come too, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He teases, lips on yours swallowing every moan before you feel a hand around your throat.

    “Look at me when you come, baby,” he purrs, applying just the slightest amount of pressure to the column of your throat.

    “Wanna see you come for me,” he smirks, his thrusts getting harsher before you feel yourself giving into your orgasm.

    Your body shakes as your mouth falls open, his name a breathy moan before you feel his hips stuttering.

    He sounds exhausted after he spills inside of you, tumbling on top of you as you’re left in sweaty silence as you’re left with nothing to do but run your fingers through his dampened hair.

    “Gemini or not, you’re what made me weak in the knees, sweetheart.” Chris whispers, eyes on yours as you feel a flutter in your heart.

    “There’s somethin’ about you that I won’t ever grow tired of, that I’m sure about.”

[lavenderfluorite14]

Such Sweet Delirium

Reiji Sakamaki x Fem!Reader

Summary: Laito Intrudes on an experiment gone wrong. Reiji loses his cool.

Explicit, 18+ |TW: Dubious Consent/Non-Con, Drugged Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Slut Shaming, Blood Sucking, Ownership Kink, Female Reader, Breast Worship, Hickeys, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Begging, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Possessive Reiji, Light Edging, Canon Typical Reiji Cruelty, I couldn’t just write porn I had to write a character study too lol, Slight Laito x Reader, Tagging non-con for the consent issues surrounding drugged sex, Reader is conscious and responsive but very high

Word Count: 2331

A/N: Please be mindful of the tags! This is the most explicit thing that I have ever written lmaoooo 🥂

Read it on AO3!

Reiji’s lab spun in a nauseating carousel of color. The last thing you remembered was drinking a beautiful, shimmering liquid that Reiji said he had brewed himself. It fizzed all the way down your throat, an insistent warmth quickly spreading throughout your body. Now sprawled across his sofa, you surrendered to dizzying oblivion. Somewhere above you, Reiji scribbled furiously in a black notebook, tutting irritably.

“Tell me what you are feeling. Be specific.” You swallowed thickly at the order, begging your tongue to move.

“The…...the room…..the room is-”

“Spit it out, I don’t have all day.”

“S-spinning. The room….is spinning” you slurred.

“How fast?”

“Fast.”

“I said how fast?”

“I….I can’t….”

Reiji tsked angrily, snapping his notebook shut. Flinching, you tried to turn away from his sharp gaze but a cold hand pinned you flat against the couch. Your delayed reaction time was no match for his vampiric strength.

“I can feel your heart racing from here,” he said, curling over you, pinning your wrists above your head. “Had I known you were such weak prey I would have given you a smaller dose. It isn’t as fun when you can’t fight back.” You wriggled underneath him, jerking weakly against his cruel grip. Reiji laughed, amused at your feeble attempts to escape.

“Although, I don’t hate this delirious expression,” he murmured, lowering his face towards yours. You squeezed your eyes shut, overwhelmed by his hungry stare. “I suppose this isn’t bad every once and a while.” His rich baritone rumbled in your ear, his proximity making you tremble.

“I didn’t think I’d interrupt this so soon,” interrupted a dark chuckle. Laito lounged against the doorframe of the lab, eyeing your entwined forms. “You must really like this one, Reiji,” he teased. Reiji’s iron grip tightened around your wrists and you whimpered pitifully. “It’s rude to enter someone’s room without knocking,” Reiji spat imperiously. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer!” Laito insisted, his eyes glinting with mirth. “But now I can see you were a bit distracted.” You lolled your head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder. Laito’s smirk widened.

“Christ, what did you do to her?”

“Such language is atrocious. You shouldn’t speak that way.”

“You fucked up the dosage, didn’t you?” Reiji shot up quickly at the accusation, swiping his notebook from the couch as he crossed briskly back towards his desk. Laito’s smirk cracked into a grin.

“Do you need something, Laito?” Reiji asked coolly. As Reiji began tidying his work space, Laito sauntered over to the couch, his green gaze boring into you. Crouching down, he gently brushed his fingers across your cheek. You shivered under his cold touch. “I came for the aphrodisiac you promised me,” Laito said, trailing his fingers down your neck. He stopped to trace the hollow of your throat, caressing it with his thumb. “But if you don’t have it, I’m sure there are other ways we can pass the time inst-”

“Of course I have it,” Reiji scoffed. Plucking a vial of blue liquid from his stores, he crossed the room and offered it to Laito. “Now please take it and leave.” Reiji’s words hung in the air like frost. Laito rose languidly, like a cobra rearing back to strike, then swiped the vial from Reiji’s gloved hand.

“Maybe next time, Bitch-Chan,” Laito said, winking at you. “And Reiji,” Laito called, pivoting in the doorframe for one last jab. “I know it can be hard to control yourself, especially this close to a full moon, but try not to tear this one up like the last one, ok? You should save some for the rest of us.”

“Get out!” Reiji snarled, storming across the room. Laito darted off, disappearing as quickly as he had come. Reiji slammed the door behind him.

The ceiling swam before you in lethargic swirls of periwinkle. You had no idea what Laito meant, but you could feel Reiji fuming in the doorway. What was he talking about? Reiji never lost his cool. You couldn’t imagine him doing something like that. “You let him touch you,” Reiji seethed.

“Reiji, I...I didn’t….I didn't want-”

“Please be silent.Your behavior today has been dreadful.” Reiji prowled towards the couch, his long shadow casting a dark pall across your face. You closed your eyes, terrified to meet his furious eyes. “You couldn't do a thing?” He queried, towering above you. “You couldn’t cry out? Or swat him away?” His voice was ice.

“I…..I froze….”

“I suppose that’s to be expected from a woman like you,”

“I’m so-sorry,”

“How should I punish my little harlot?” Finally bending down towards you, Reiji cupped your face firmly with his gloved hand. “Your pupils are still so dilated. I doubt you’d feel my whip at all.” The thought made you shiver, and not completely out of fear. Reiji thumbed your lip idly as he thought.

“Suck….my blood?” He tsked at your suggestion.

“You ask for it so brazenly, sometimes I think you enjoy it. Hands up.” You heaved your arms up over your head as Reiji smoothly rolled your top up your body, tossing it aside once it was completely off.

“I suppose it’s my fault. I’ve been too lax with you,” he mused, settling firmly on top of you. You were particularly aware of his pelvis, pressing insistently against the cradle of your thighs. He cupped your face, drawing you close. “I need to teach you exactly who you belong to,” he said, his gaze drifting down hungrily to the column of your neck. “I’ll remind you so thoroughly of your place that even a dumb whore like you will be able to remember who owns her,” he promised, sinking his teeth viciously into your throat.

Reiji’s first bite was hard and precise, the sharp pain briefly thrusting you into lucid panic. But soon you were left with the warm afterglow of pleasure in the wake of its pain. It never stopped hurting, not entirely, but his bites always left you with a fluttering warmth. Reiji’s mouth was on you. You couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Reiji began a fast, desperate rhythm that pulled blood from you quickly, sending you reeling. You whimpered as your world whirled impossibly faster. When darkness began to flicker at the edges of your vision Reiji pulled away, burying his face into your neck. “You bring out the worst in me,” he sighed. Mouthing along your throat, he continued downward towards your collarbone. You braced yourself for another bite, but recoiled sharply when Reiji placed a delicate kiss upon your chest.

“Look at me, jealous of that pervert.” He kissed your chest again, skimming his fingers across the delicate skin of your décolletage. “Arch your back.” Curving your spine upwards, your body brushed against Reiji’s lean frame. You trembled as his hands ghosted along your back, making their way towards the clasp of your bra. Reiji unhooked it with quick ease then tossed the lacy fabric away, greedily cupping your naked breasts. A thin, breathy gasp escaped from you as Reiji dipped between them, kissing your soft curves. You tangled your hands in his hair, humming your approval. In response he tweaked your nipple harshly, sending a jolt of pain through your cloud of pleasure. You yelped at the enticing contrast.

“Let me remind you of your place. You are nothing more than food to me,” he said, pinching your nipple again with a renewed vengeance. You drunkenly brought your hands back to push him away, but he easily pinned them back above your head. “You are meat. Your blood is the only worthwhile thing about you.” Reiji sunk his teeth into the swell of your breast, drawing deep from you. Crying out, you tried to ignore the pleasure his bite ignited in you, trying to focus only on the pain.

“I can taste your arousal,” he groaned between mouthfuls. “Does your masochism know no bounds?” Reiji’s insults didn’t last as he dove back down again to litter your chest with angry bites. He’d kiss you, so tenderly it was almost painful, then pierce your sensitive skin with his sharp, pointed fangs. Once satisfied, he’d lick, suck and kiss the abused spot until an angry mark began to form. He left bruises everywhere in his wake, a garden of purple hickeys blossoming across your breasts.

The drug made it nearly impossible to meaningfully fight back but you didn’t really want to. Reiji’s words stung, but you so rarely had his attention like this. Was it because the full moon was close? You knew vampires had trouble controlling their urges when the moon was full. And Reiji so desperately wanted control: of his brothers, of you, of himself. Was this frenzied beast the real Reiji, or was his protesting, rigid persona the real him? Impossibly, you knew he had to be both. Both enraptured and repulsed by his own desires and completely unable to hide it. That was really why he was mad. Reiji’s wet tongue interrupted your musings as he lapped against your sore nipple, sending a shudder through your entire body. Unable to remove your wrists from his grasp, you retaliated by wrapping your legs around his hips, trapping him against you. Now it was Reiji’s turn to shudder, rutting himself against your core. He was hard.

“My, you really are out of it,” he murmured, grinding himself against you openly. “It’s the only explanation.”

“Explanation for what?” You panted, trying to match his thrusts. Reiji released your wrists, propping himself up on his left arm. Delicately biting the fabric across the tip of his pointer finger, he slid his glove from his hand. Ripping it away, Reiji’s bare hand skimmed down your body and over your curves. Flipping up your skirt, his fingers slid between your thighs.

“For this,” he says, tracing your wetness through your panties. Your eyes fluttered shut. “Reiji,” you breathed, arching towards his fingers.

“Say my name,” Reiji ordered softly, dipping underneath the fabric and rewarding you with long, firm strokes. You called his name again and he moved up towards your clit, circling it once before quickly pulling away. You whined at the loss.

Reiji begins a vicious rhythm, rubbing your clit with firm circles, then backing off when your pleasure mounts. He only returns to your clit when you beg him to, crying out for him. Fisting your hands in his shirt, you whine in frustration as a needy ache builds inside you. Reiji just smirks down at you, enjoying your torment. When tears start building in your eyes, he finally slides a slender finger into your heat. Beckoning upward along your inner wall, he firmly massages your g spot. Mindlessly, you grind down on his fingers, chasing your pleasure.

“Who makes you feel this good?” he asks, his ruby eyes alight with lust.

“You do,” you gasp.

“I asked you who,” he demanded, cruelly massaging your inner wall. You jerk at the pressure, almost cresting over the plateau.

“Reiji! Reiji Sakamaki!” you cry, desperate for release.

“Good girl,” he smirks, thumbing your clit. You gasp in delight, the rough, consistent circles of his fingers finally hurtling you towards your peak. “You don’t deserve this,” he growls in your ear, his deep velvety voice bewitching you. “But when I see you like this, I can’t stop myself. You’re mine.” Your orgasm hits you hard, squeezing Reiji’s fingers in hot contractions. Pleasure washes over you in a wave, your entire being gently pulsing. Reiji smugly guides you through your orgasm, only stopping his ministrations once your twitching has ceased. You sigh, melting back into the cushions of the couch. Above you, a belt buckle clinks.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Reiji says, gripping your thighs and yanking you forcefully back towards him. As he settles above you, he presses the tip of his member against your eager entrance. Pushing forward, Reiji sinks into you with ease. “My little harlot is so wet for me,” he teases, before setting a ruthless pace.

Reiji fucks you selfishly, chasing his own pleasure now that he’s satisfied yours. You lay back, still enjoying the lingering effects of his drug. His thrusts pull soft, pleasured moans from you as he plunges desperately into you. Closing your eyes, you revel in the sensations, happy to let him use you. Occasionally he’ll sheathe himself all the way inside of you and grind desperately against your cervix, trying to get as deep as he can.

“I can’t believe you like this. That you like me,” he pants softly, definitely to himself. Reiji lets you pull him down so that he is completely flush against your body. “I do. I like you, Reiji.” A groan rips from him and he stills, spilling himself inside of you.

You stay that way for a moment, holding each other tenderly in the afterglow of your love-making. You wish you could stay like this, enjoying the feeling of his body as it presses you into the cushions, gently stroking his back as both of your breathing returns to normal. But Reiji recovers faster than you do. “I’ll clean you up,” he offers, his tone clipped.

Reiji cleans you thoroughly with a warm wet towel, which feels strange but is not unenjoyable in your impaired state. It’s deeply intimate in a way that is definitely uncomfortable, but you think it’s his way of taking care of you. You close your eyes, pliant. His large hands drift over your body, tugging your top back over you and righting your skirt. Once he is finished you curl on your side, completely spent and ready to sleep. As you begin to drift off, you feel something warm and soft envelop you. A blanket? Maybe. Where did he get a blanket?

Reiji watches as you snuggle into the blanket he has recently taken to keeping in his desk, a genuine smile flickering across his stern features.

[aminiatureworld]

Frustration

Characters: Childe, Diluc, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,068 words

Premise: Commissions don’t always go as planned, much to your frustration. Luckily there’s someone there to make you feel better.

Author’s Note: So I’ve been thinking of writing Genshin stuff for months now but haven’t, for various reasons mainly that being how much this blog is already a bit of a disarrayed mess. But after awhile I decided another fandom won’t hurt. Besides I think it’s better to write something than nothing, even if the fandom keeps changing. So… yeah?

This particular scenario was basically my day today. The characters have been chosen out of my own personal will. I was going to do Zhongli as well but I’m exhausted so if this is well received perhaps I’ll do that another day.

Also I’m so tired I’m halfway to a headache and feel a bit floaty so sorry if there are grammar mistakes and such. Anyways, hope you like!

Character Banners in progress

Ao3 link in reblog

Childe

“I’m gonna kill someone.” You muttered, slamming your weapon down on the table, causing the ginger next to you to start.

“As long as that person’s not me I’ll be glad to help you.” You weren’t sure whether you found the comment worrying, insulting, or charming, and decided not to reply, instead throwing yourself in the chair across from Childe, usually reserved for customers or some member of the Fatui higherups, though today you could care less.

“Hey, am I not good enough?” Childe half whined half joked. You only grunted before getting up and walking over to his chair, plopping yourself on his lap and promptly picking at a stray thread on his coat which had caught your eye and was now becoming an increasing source of irritation.

Taking this as a sign Childe gently pried your nails away from the offending thread. Placing your palms in his gloved hands he smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Want to tell me about it?”

“It’s this stupid ley line! You know, the one in the stone forest? I was commissioned to keep an eye on it, normal stuff, but this one seems absolutely crawling with all sorts of slimes and the like, hilichurls too and a stray bandit here or there. They keeping breaking the damn thing and the minute I fix it they’re back again. At this rate I’m not going to finish it!” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, thinking of the hours you’d spent fighting with the thing. You’d even let out a few tears of frustration in the process, and having nothing to show for it was intensely irritating, to say the least.

“Poor darling.” Childe’s smirk was timeless, but there was a softness to it that you took as confirmation that he understood. I mean if anyone was going to understand it was going to be a member of the Fatui. As much as you disliked the group on principle, you did have to admit that Childe was certainly a hard worker, and running around at the whims of the far off Tsaritsa certainly had its trials.

Slumping against his chest you allowed yourself to relax a bit, some tension brought out simply by the act of telling someone about the frustrations that were building up, like someone shaking a corked bottle. Childe kissed your hands, a welcome distraction, before giving you a peck on the nose. You smiled at that, squeezing his hands. It felt good to have someone to complain to, to have someone who understood. But that was Childe, surprisingly understanding. And always looking for a fight.

“So…” as if on cue Childe spoke up, tone becoming truer, his smile becoming more foxlike. “You have something you need help fighting I hear.”

“Don’t let this get you any ideas.” You smirked right back. “I can still whip you when it comes to sparring at you know it. Besides, won’t I get in trouble if you’re there.”

“Give me half the commission rate and we’ll call it square.”

“Such a steep rate!” You gasped in fake horror, nevertheless lifting yourself off the chair. Childe was up no sooner, giving you a mischievous grin.

“Well of course! I can’t have you fleecing me out of my money. Not when I’ve already given you my heart, which is quite expensive by the way.” Giving you a quick forehead kiss he took your hand then, giving some half assed excuse to the poor desk clerk when they asked where he was going. “I have to save someone some trouble.”

You scoffed at that, but it was true. Childe was saving you a lot of trouble, and keeping your pride in some sort of piece. That was Childe. Wild, passionate, aching for a fight, perhaps not a great person – no in fact decidedly not so. But he was also surprisingly caring, reliable, and steadfast. And that was all you could ask for in the moment.

 Diluc

“Do you know where in Monstadt someone is supposed to find 50 Windwheel Asters?”

Diluc whipped his head up at that one; out of all the things he expected you to say that was certainly not one of them. It was almost closing time at the Winery, and this was normally the time when you came up to see him, chatting about this and that, waiting for him to close the ledger so you two could have some time together. In the entire history of your relationship there’d never been an evening that began such as this.

“There should be some around here, and Windrise if you’re in for a bit of a hike. But 50 is an awful lot, and I’m not sure the florists would be happy if you carted off with all their flowers.”

“I know.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall, picking at your fingernails. “I know that finding 50 of anything in a day is a hard task. But I was given a short noticed commission by some wealthy tradesman who’s passing by and wanted some flowers for a gala or some such thing. It’s important for the Guild that I complete these you know, and I’m not looking forward to telling Katheryne about it tomorrow.”

You sighed, glancing out the window of the Winery. You thought of all the places in Monstadt the view was perhaps loveliest here, cozy, with a view of all that made Monstadt, the planes, the forest, even a glimpse of the waterways that ran through it. But right now all you could think about was how in such a vast swath of land you’d still failed to meet the goal, you’d still turned up empty handed.

“Would you sit next to me?” Diluc’s voice broke you out of your depressing reverie and you sat down in the chair adjacent to his – a recent addition to his office – laying your head somewhat awkwardly on his shoulder, running your hands through his soft hair. You two sat in silence like that for a bit, the steady flow of Diluc’s pen keeping your eyes occupied while your hands braided and twisted at random, gentle and absentminded.

Finally the ledger was closed and Diluc turned to you. Smiling he massaged your left shoulder slightly, eliciting a sigh from you.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for things like this.” He began, his tone soft and low. “No reasonable person on Earth would ask you to gather so many flowers in a day. Even Flora doesn’t sell that many to a single customer without an order, and her whole job consists of selling flora. You’ve watched me work long enough, do you think I’d sell 50 kegs of wine to a tradesman on site?”

“No, of course not.” You mumbled. “But it’s my job to do the unconventional requests, how can I pick and choose at random? I can’t very well complete only half of my commissions.”

“Of course not, but nobody expects you to simultaneously catch 50 flowers out of thin air either. The Guild has its own regulations and rules you know, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a violation of one. No one doubts your prowess my dear. You’ve slain Eyes of Storms and have scaled mountains taller than most people in Monstadt might ever imagine. You done what might be considered impossible to some many times. So you should trust in the Guild and in the people of Monstadt. They aren’t well likely to turn their back on you over such a ridiculous request.”

You hummed a reply, resting your hands on Diluc’s. All he said was probably right of course, Katheryne could very well tell you how ridiculous such a request was, and no harm would come to your reputation. But your relationship with Diluc was still young, there was still so much to learn about the other, and so hearing such confident praise from him felt like a sort of gift, recompense for such a frustrating ordeal. Humming once more you leaned your head on his shoulder again. Tomorrow you would go and tell the Guild about the debacle, and let the man know the ridiculousness of his request. But tonight you just wanted to rest with the person you cherished the most. That was all you wished for.

 Xiao

“Something’s wrong.” Xiao’s voice was purposefully flat, and you wondered not for the first time how the adeptus in front of you had become so good at reading your mood, especially considering the fact that he admitted himself that his grasp on human emotions was a tricky one. He always seemed to know when you were upset at least, and your initial urge to attempt to hide your frustration immediately blew away.

“It’s been a rough day.” You admitted, standing next to him on the Wangshu Inn’s railing, letting the cool evening breeze cool you down. It’d been an obnoxiously hot day, and you were glad for any bit of fresh air. Xiao said nothing, but you could feel his gaze on you, waiting for your decision as to whether or not you’d let him know the reason you were upset. Not that it was really a question, at this point you couldn’t imagine a time when you didn’t tell Xiao practically everything, from the most mundane to those things that loomed largest in your life. You’d never met someone you trusted so much in your life before, and it felt rather freeing, knowing that he didn’t mind a bit, something that had scared you when you first began opening up to him.

“It’s just a commission, nothing ground shaking. Thankfully.” You added on, thinking of when Liyue had almost been swallowed whole; the moment when it seemed all would fail, before the miraculous traveler had bound the adept and the citizens of Liyue together. It was something you weren’t likely to forget, and something you never wished to relive. “That being said.” You added on. “It’s something that, well, is distressing me a lot.”

Xiao stood patiently as you explained to him that your deceptively simple commission of delivering food to someone had managed to go horribly awry after a group of Cryo slimes had left the food frozen solid, with the angry customer unwilling to pay or wait for a replacement.

“It wasn’t too expensive thankfully.” You remarked. “I mean it was just food. But it feels silly, and a bit embarrassing. I mean of course I should’ve paid, I don’t begrudge that. I just don’t understand how I managed to screw up something so fundamentally simple. It seems… somehow a bit of a slap in the fact. I mean, aren’t I any good?”

“Of course you are.” Xiao’s answer was firm, but not unkind. Instead it held in it the certainty of one who’d lived thousands of years, and whose trust in you was absolute. Drawing closer, the adeptus glanced around, making sure there was no one around, before slinging an arm around your own, drawing you close and running soft circles around your shoulder.

“You’re a great adventurer.” He remarked, voice filled with as much serious as there was fondness. “I’ve seen many warriors, many adventurers come and go in my time. Those whose feats will fill the pages of books and the staves of songs long after they themselves have been reduced to ashes. Those who will be called great heroes. All of them fell sometimes. And, if you must fall, I’d rather it be over something so simple as a botched food delivery.”

You glanced up into Xiao’s eyes. Normally he was reticent with words, even moreso with gestures. Every word let you deeper into someone’s life, into their past, their personality, their soul. No word was careless with Xiao. And as you stared at eyes filled with pride and love and worry, suddenly you felt as if what had just passed was small, oh so very small. There would be another commission, just as there would be another tomorrow. There’d be another failure most likely too. Many of them even. But they were small stones in a great big pond, quickly sinking out of sight and out of mind.

“I love you.” You breathed, and Xiao’s face seemed to open all of a sudden, shedding a thousand cares and a thousand worries. He pressed his forehead to your own.

“I love you too.”

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling in the Sheets

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, NSFW

Rating: M

Length: Short Story

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Spoiler Alert, there is smut. Be warned. It's there.

Also, I am no longer doing tags on posts. Since my list exceeds the tag limit. Please feel free to join the chat in place of the tag list.

Henry Cavill Master List

“How did you do it though?” Gliding the car into a free parking space, Henry glanced at Nell in the passenger's seat.

“How did I do what?” Eyeing him curiously, she tried to hide her gloating smile. She could be a terrible winner, even if she wasn't the winner, she had came ahead of Henry.

“You know what I mean, Nelly.”

He looked so silly, his new mustache curling when he laughed or smiled. Nell had to admit, if any man could wear the 'stache Henry did it well.

“Oh, you mean how did I suddenly leave your ass behind and finish nearly 50 positions ahead?” She laughed, crinkling her nose. “I told you, I've been working hard for this. Besides, you're too big. You move slower than I do. It's that simple. Maybe next year, you will finish ahead of me.”

“You're impossible.” Unbuckling his seat belt, Henry hurried to get out of the car and around to the other side, before Nell could open her own door. Nearly there, he frowned when she opened the door, stepping out of the Aston Martin. “You were supposed to let me open that.”

“I am supposed to do a lot of things that I do not.” Nell grabbed her hand bag. “I'll let you open the door, next time. You big dork.”

Henry was always the gentleman, even when Nell would rather rip his eyes out than speak to him in a civil manner. Not that she ever felt the former much, but on the rare occasion. Sometimes that's how things went for ex-lovers. The mid May air was growing cool, leaving a few goosebumps on Nell's exposed arms. She had expected to be back before now, which is why she'd left her sweater in the hotel.

“Well, happy late birthday. It was nice having dinner with your family. I've missed them.”

“They've missed you, too. I could tell that dad was happy you came along. He hasn't talked that much during a dinner since the last time you came over.” Henry smiled fondly. "I'm glad that you came, Nelly." Hands in his pockets, Henry sauntered along beside Nell. Approaching the main entrance, he held the door allowing her to enter. 

When he'd invited her for the weekend, he wasn't confident that she would come. Wrapped up in work, Nell didn't take too much time away from Dublin these days.

"It was a nice break from work." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Nell bit her bottom lip. "I know that you are busy, but do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"I always have time to talk with you." Scanning the hotel lobby, Henry tried to find a spot for them to sit and chat privately. "Should we have a seat at the bar?"

"We could, but I would really like to change. Do you mind coming up with me? We can just talk in the room. It's probably more comfortable anyway."

"Is this about the wild boy?"

"Isn't it always?" 

Laughing, Henry pushed the call button for the elevator. Their son was truly something else. One day he would surely take over the world; Henry could see that coming from the day he was born.  To say Ivan was Henry's pride and joy would be a massive understatement. He lived for their son. This weekend having Ivan, and Nell, in Jersey had been fantastic. A short glimpse of what life could have been. The ding of the elevator brought Henry back from his brief fantasy.

He and Nell had split up several years ago, there wasn't much chance she would feel the same as he did. Lost in the thoughts of happy little family. Allowing Nell to step onto the elevator first, Henry stood silently with his hands clasped in front of him.

“So, Ivan has been doing well in school?” He may as well get this under way.

“Define doing well,” Nell snickered. “I get a call nearly every day from his teacher. The woman is impossible, but knowing our son, he isn't making it easy for her.”

“I was like that in school. Right up until the day I left.” Henry shrugged. The elevator gently bumping to a stop, he stepped forward to hold the door for Nell.

Muttering a thank you, Nell dug for her key card, leading the way down the hall. She loved this hotel, it was the only one she stayed in, if she could help it, while visiting the Island. A great view of the water on one side, the other dazzling with a fantastic look out into the city. The first time she'd ever been to Jersey, she had stayed in the hotel and fell in love with the charm. There were days when that felt like a life time ago.

Opening the door, Nell paused to allow Henry in. “Have a seat. Anywhere you'd like. Sorry it's kind of a mess. I'm going to change.”

The hotel room was anything but a mess, minus the few sketch books that Nell had dropped on the bed. Always working. Henry took a seat on the edge of the king sized bed, casually glancing at the colour coded notes and designs that Nell had in one of the open sketch books. Costumes. A few notes detailed leather armor and Viking era clothing. She'd done well for herself, since he'd met her. The same shy costume apprentice hiding out on set of The Tudors, was now helping drive forward the details of Vikings.

In the bathroom, Nell pulled off her dress. The fabric had became clingy after a while and she needed to be more relaxed. Running shorts and a tshirt would do the trick. Sighing at her reflection, she bit her bottom lip glancing down at her top. The worn coral Nike tshirt was her favourite, it was showing the love and wear in a few spots. Perhaps she should have picked something less frumpy? She was a busy, single mom she didn't have to look the part. Ah fuck, who cared. Henry certainly wouldn't.

He was here to discuss their son, not flirt with her until she gave in to that smile. Or got lost in his eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes – the left with the flecks of brown. His charm alone was enough to make anyone weak in the knees. Damn it, she needed to get over it. He had moved on. She needed to do the same.

Blowing out a breath, Nell reached for the door, pausing when she heard Henry talking. His tone told her that he was speaking to Ivan. Quietly slipping out of the bathroom, she smiled.

“Hold on, just a sec.” He pushed the screen of his phone, allowing the speaker to connect. “Alright, wild boy. Say goodnight to your mum.”

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan's voice filled the room. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ivan. Are you being a good boy?”

“Uh huh. I love you. Good night.”

“Good night, wild boy. I love you.”

“Night dad.”

“Good night, I love you. I'm going to be back soon, you go to bed and I will see you first thing in the morning.”

“Okay. Oh, dad, can Kal sleep in my room tonight?” Ivan was fond of the large black and white American Akita. Henry laughed.

“Of course he can. You and Kal go to bed, now.”

“Okay, bye.” A little too quickly, Ivan hung up the phone. Henry laughed at the eagerness, he would talk to his mother when he got back to the house. Making sure that Ivan and his dog had gone to bed as they were told, with no fuss.

"Can you believe he is growing this fast? My god where has that time gone?" Henry rubbed his hands against his face. His mustache and subtle stubble scratching his palms. 

"Time is a cruel mistress." Rubbing her hands on her shorts, Nell stood. "Drink? I have a bottle of Johnnie Walker." 

"Of course you do." Smirking, Henry shifted on the side of the bed. “I had a look at some of these designs, by the way. They're magnificent. My god, Nell, you are so talented.”

“You're saying that to be nice,”

Shaking his head, Henry accepted the glass, resting it on his knee. “No, I am saying it because its true. You are one of the most talented costumers that I had ever met. Are you enjoying the job?”

“I love it.” Nell smiled, leaning against the large wooden desk in the corner. “The work is great, the people are amazing, and Ivan is really enjoying it. I'm glad we went.”

“Good, that's good. He talks about it, a lot. He really seems to love being there. I'm glad. Once things settle, I am going to try and come visit. I kind of miss it, Dublin.”

“You should.” She smiled fighting the urge to scoff and roll her eyes. Henry was always busy. He'd make it to Dublin, when Hell froze over. “So, how is work coming on this new character.”

“I can't say much, but I can say that I will be happy when I can shave.” He rubbed the mustache expertly. “It's not as bad as some of the beards that I've had to grow, but it's not my favourite look.”

“You look good with a beard. I know you hate them, but you do.”

Leaning forward to set his glass on the bedside table, Henry licked the whiskey off of his lips. “I'm glad to have that compliment.”

“Sure.” Nell nodded, tipping her glass to finish the drink. “Another?”

“Uh, I'm good.” Henry motioned to his glass. Rubbing his hands across his jeans, he furrowed his brow. “I've been thinking, since I am fairly busy the next few months, what if I keep Ivan for a few extra days? Once you leave, I will take him back to London with me, until I have to go.”

Shifting on the bed, her face warm from the second glass of whiskey, Nell sniffled and cleared her throat. “What about school?”

“What about it? He isn't going to miss much, is he? They're nearly finished up and I don't know how long it will be, until I see him. Possibly not until Christmas.”

All he wanted was to spend a little time with his son, was that so hard? His next move would have to be calculated, Nell had been known to stat arguments over less. If Henry wanted to avoid a shouting match, he would have to go about this carefully. Reaching for his glass, he downed the remaining contents in one large gulp. Sighing.

“I want to hang out with him a little. It wouldn't be more than three days extra. Then you get some time alone, as well. Nell, I know that you need a bit of a break. You work so hard and take care of Ivan, please.”

“If you want to, then I suppose I can't really say no. What kind of mother would I be, if I didn't let you see him?”

“Don't say things like that, please.” Henry reached out, his hand taking hers. Gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “You are a wonderful mum. You know that.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I could do better. I really do.” Nell shrugged, allowing Henry to continue holding her hand.

“All parents feel that way, I am sure. I know that I feel like that, all the time. I guess it's natural, always wanting to do better, to be better, for our children.”

There he went again. There were times when Nell could not stand to be near him, other times she wanted to be as close as possible. Damn it. Watching him talk about Ivan and the few extras days they would be together, Henry's eyes lit up. His smile broad and the enthusiasm in his voice was one that dictated proud father. Nell nodded, only because she felt it was appropriate to the conversation.

Henry continued to chatter about how he wanted to take Ivan to a new exhibit at the Natural History Museum, in London. Leave it to the father and son, finding a day at the museum to be high on the list of fun. Nell sighed, continuing to half listen, half gaze at Henry in awe. One thing she loved – well love could be a strong word – adored? Enjoyed? About Henry was how much he loved Ivan.

Mid sentence about some Sir David Attenborough documentary that he'd watched with Ivan; Nell couldn't help it any longer. Leaning in, without warning, she grabbed Henry's face turning it to her and kissing him. Lips connecting, she stopped and jumped back as if hit by an electric shock.

Clearing his throat, Henry rubbed the back of his neck, but not pulling back. “I didn't know that the National Geographic was that exciting.”

“I'm sorry.” Hiding her face in her hands, Nell shook her head. Oh that had been a mistake. She had absolutely no right. None. Henry was crazy, if he didn't get up right now and walk out. If he was angry, then she deserved that.

Blushing, Nell shook her head. “Henry, I shouldn't have.”

“I'm certainly not going to complain.” He shrugged, leaning in his arm sliding around her shoulder. Nell glanced up, getting the nerves to look at him. Oh she had fucked up. “Next time, I would like some warning though.”

“Warning? Next time?”

“Hmm, yes. Kind of like this, close your eyes.” Henry instructed pulling her closer and kissing her. Nell sighed her body melting against him. She loved the way his lips felt on hers. Soft, with a slight force.

Straddling his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, Nell's fingers laced together. Her lips leaving his, tracing along his jaw, nearing the sweet spot below his ear. A slight nip and he was an unraveling mess. Henry nuzzled his face into her hair, she smelled amazing. Comforting and warm. A groan erupted from deep in his throat, as predicted she had gone straight for that spot.

“Nell, Nell,” Henry cleared his throat, holding her at arm's length, “Janelle, stop.” Looking for any sort of sign that she truly felt that this wasn't a good idea, he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure about this? Because if we continue, I won't stop until...”

“I am.” She nodded firmly, “I don't want you to stop. I don't want to stop. Oh god, Henry. Please.”

“I need to know that you truly, absolutely want to do this.”

“If you don't stop talking and bend me over, I am going to kick you out and do this myself. Please, stop talking. If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have started it.”

A deep rumbling laugh followed, Henry rolled his eyes. God, she was something else. Who was he to deny a gorgeous woman what she wanted? Would this come back to haunt him? Probably. Did he care? Not much. Come morning they would once again go their separate ways, but that didn't matter right now. Right now, he could pretend that he had everything he wanted. And what he wanted was her.

Pulling her to him, Henry kissed her hard. Nell moaned, the force of the kiss was nearly dizzying. Arms around his neck, she rubbed her body against his, trying to grasp the friction that was created when she started to grind herself against his thighs.

“Henry,”

“Hold on, you need patience.” He brushed a bit of hair out of her face, “all in good time.”

Nell squealed when he stood, her legs desperately scrambling to hold onto him. In a futile attempt she huffed, when he let her go, standing in front of him pouting. Unbuttoning his shirt, Henry smirked giving her a heated stare. “Well, are you going to get on the bed or make me do all the work? Shorts off.”

Sliding the mesh shorts down her ass and along her legs, Nell made a bit of a show letting them pool at her feet. Stepping out, as slowly as possible, while lifting the old tshirt from her body. Allowing it to go where it would, as she dropped it. Sitting back on the bed, she could feel her heart in her throat and her stomach where her heart should be.

“Lie back.” Henry instructed, kneeling at the edge of the bed. Arms around her thighs, guiding her to him, he studied her for a moment. She was trembling as his fingers slid across her thighs, positioning her in just the right way.

“Oh god, Hen-Henry.” Nell's mouth was suddenly dry and her voice hoarse. His hot breath between her legs was tormenting her, in unimaginable ways. In anticipation she bucked her hips forward, trying to clench her thighs. Holding her knees with his shoulders, Henry chuckled.

“Eager.”

“Please.”

“You are...” He lingered, kissing the inside of her leg. “Gorgeous. Look at you.” He brushed his thumb against her. Nell whimpered trying to push further. “Hold on, hold on.”

“Why are you teasing me?”

“Because I want to enjoy the view, for a moment.” He shrugged, her legs lifting gently. A hand on her lower abdomen, as if holding her in place, he used the other to gently tease and trace along her calf. Without warning, his lips attached to the most sensitive part of her body with his mustache adding an extra sensation, Nell bucked her hips hard, shoving his face further between her thighs.

Nell's head was swimming, it had been a while since she'd felt this good from such an act. Sure, she'd had the odd date here and there, semi-serious relationships, but nobody could do this the way Henry could. He was a fucking magician, she was certain of it. Humming against her mound, Henry couldn't hide the laughter in his eyes, when she began to squirm and wiggle against his face. She was desperate and he was going to prolong this as much as he could.

Sucking her clit, his tongue generously lapping at her, he thoroughly enjoyed the show. Pushing his head as far down as she could, Nell was nearly in tears each time he leaned in, his mustache tickling in just the right way. Oh god, she gasped trying hard to find release. Henry was cunning, backing off at the right moments.

“Henry,” She whined, threading her fingers through his hair. “Don't tease me, I really need you to finish.”

“Stop being so impatient.” He was teasingly stern. Pushing her hands away, he locked his fingers with hers, holding them at her side. Lifting his head, he smirked, kissing up her body ending with another dizzying kiss. Nell sucked on his tongue, freeing her hands from his, she tugged him closer, pulling at fistfuls of hair.

Cleaning herself from his tongue and lips, she sighed. “I'm going to need more than that.”

“You're sure?” Henry paused, holding his weight on his forearms, resting above her. His jeans still on, he could feel the strain against the denim.

“Jeans, off.” She demanded, sitting up to watch. Shivering against the slight chill, her breasts on display giving him the perfect view of her erect nipples. Nell blushed under his gaze. She was not the tight, toned, and perky body she once was. She wasn't out of shape, by any means, but compared to Henry...

“You are gorgeous.” Henry complimented, his jeans on the floor, boxers being pushed down to join them. Stepping out of his pants, he stood at the side of the bed, in all his glory.

Nell licked her lips, reaching out to take him in her hand. Hissing under her touch, Henry involuntarily bucked his hips forward into her hand. Rubbing the head, Nell intently watched Henry while she leaned in taking him fully in her mouth.

“Fuck, Nelly.”

“Hmm,” She hummed, sliding her head back along his length. Hand wrapped around him, stroking in place of her mouth. Bobbing her head back down, she swirled her tongue around the base. He nearly choked her the first time she'd ever gone down on him. Oh how long ago that felt.

Dragging her tongue against his length, she felt her core tighten, with each moan Henry gave. His slight salty taste mixed with the aftertaste of the Johnnie Walker, Nell inhaled deeply through her nose, hollowing her cheeks around him. Gripping the back of her head, Henry tried to not force her too hard, as he began to guide her movement.

Happy to go along with what he needed to feel good, Nell allowed him control over her guidance. Her finger nails grazing the back of his thighs, she mentally checked the small victory when he threw his hips forward at the sensation of her wrapped around him and her nails on his skin.

“Good girl,” Henry mumbled, his head lulling back, his chest rising rapidly. “Keep it up, just like that. Oh shit,”

Nell's chest swelled a little, she could still make him feel good, even after all of this time apart. That was not something she would take lightly, even if this shouldn't be happening. Oh fuck, who cared? They were two consenting adults. Henry's legs quivered, his hands unsteady stroking the back of her head.

“Nell,”

“Hmm?” She glanced up at him. His face soft and his jaw slack, she could feel him tightening. The perfect time to stop her actions. “Not yet,” She smirked, wiping her hand across her chin, drool gone. “Fair is fair.”

“Jesus,” Henry grumbled. He had been so fucking close, the knot in the pit of his stomach clenched Slowing his breathing, he took a moment to think of anything else. Laundry? Running? How much longer until he had to renew his passport?

“Henry?”

“Yeah?” He snapped his head to look at Nell.

“Are we going to stand here all night, or...” She shrugged, a devious smirk on her face. Laying back on the bed, she curled her finger beckoning him to her.

“You're still sure about this?” Henry asked. His eyes on her, waiting to see if she had any hint of doubt or hesitation.

“I don't have a condom, but I'm clean. It's not like I'm getting pregnant, so....” If she were to get pregnant, there was going to be on hell of a hefty lawsuit against that surgeon.

“You're sure? I know that I'm...but I don't have.”

“if you don't want to, then I understand.”

“I do, though, but...”

Nell shook her head. “No buts. If you want me, then I'm yours.”

“Fuck, you're making this hard.”

Giggling, Nell glance down. “I think we're beyond things being hard.”

His body betraying him, Henry cleared his throat, she certainly had a point. Fuck it. What did they have to lose? Unless this, some how, came back to bite them. No, no he had to stop that. Give in, enjoy what was happening. It had been too long since he'd been able to watch her in such bliss. Bliss that he was responsible for.

“You're sure?”

Nell nodded siting up, opening her arms, “Come here.”

On the edge of the bed, Henry sighed, his large frame leaning into her. Nell held him for a moment, stroking his hair, the feel of his warmth against her sent shivers through her spine. Pushing him back on the bed, she bit her bottom lip, waiting for the go ahead. Henry gave her a slight nod, adjusting himself on the bed to get comfortable. Straddling his hips, Nell lifted herself to slowly take him.

Sheathing him inch by inch, Nell groaned at the fullness. This was her favourite part, taking him to the end, feeling him stretch her. Rocking her hips forward, she countered the motion sliding them back in the same tantalizing pace. Henry held her hips, pushing his up to meet her. Nell squeaked and giggled. She loved the way he hit all the right spots.

“You can touch me, don't be shy.” Nell winked, lifting her arms and crossing them above her head, allowing him a full view of her breasts. “Go on.” She encouraged.

His large hands cupping her breasts, Henry softly rolled her hardening nipples between his fingers, giving on a slight flick when she moved herself up on his length. Close to letting him slide out, she moved back down, her ass grinding against him.

The way her body moved against his was mesmerizing. Massaging her supple skin, from her breasts down her sides, one hand settling on her ass and the other on her hip. Henry loved the shape, even if she had changed a little since having Ivan. God she was stunning.

Hastening her pace, Nell rocked back and forth, up and down. Henry closed his eyes feeling every bit of movement, each clench. Taking in the sounds of her breathing, mixed with his, her small moans not going unnoticed.

“Henry,” She whispered, biting her bottom lip, leaning forward to touch her lips against his. “Please,”

Without having to be asked twice, he moved swiftly, turning them over to pin her beneath him. Nell sighed and stretched her arms over her head, the pull of her muscles caused another shiver. Her head now against the pillow, she reached, tracing the lines of his face with her fingertip.

“I don't know that I can be as slow as you were.” Henry nipped her finger. Holding back on his desire to pound her into the bed.

“Then don't.” Nell batted her eye lashes at him.

Somehow that was all he needed, that tiny bit of permission. Picking up the pace, Henry grunted. Nell moaned drawing her knees upward, allowing him an even better vantage to this position. As if the pent up emotions from the last few years, hours, minutes had been released the couple were lost in the sensation of skin on skin. The feeling of sparks and electricity coursing through them. Connecting them.

“Fuck, Janelle.” Henry hissed, his arm locked into position on either side of her head, keeping him from tumbling on top of her.

“Henry,” She squealed splaying her hands against his chest, tugging at the soft hairs. “Oh god. Please, don't stop. My god, oh fuck.”

“You are fucking amazing. Fuck, look at you.” Kissing her roughly, he sighed, steadying his pace. His hips slapping hers, Nell shook slightly her soft sobs of pleasure were enough to send him to an end.

Shaking with pleasure, Nell gasped trying to bring herself down from the high. Henry moaned, his head back and chest heaving. It had been a while since he had felt that good. Nell laid with her legs hooked around his thighs, no desire to move. Collapsing with his head on her chest, Henry allowed his body to rest. Sweaty and sticky, they laid tangled together. Neither one wanting to break the feeling.

Dosing in and out, Nell was the first to move. Her body growing heavy with Henry still on top of her. She needed to move, before seizing up. Pushing his head to the side, she giggled and kissed the tip of her nose when he lazily looked up.

“I need to pee,”

“Hmph.” Henry nodded, slowly rolling over. Allowing her to escape. Laying flat on the bed, while she scurried off to the bathroom, Henry pushed himself up off of the bed. He should be getting back to his parents, back to Ivan.

All thoughts of moving were squashed, when Nell came back, climbing in beside him. Her clothes still on the floor. Her body was comforting against his. “Hi,” she whispered, sliding in under his arm.

“Nell?” Henry laid with his arm around her shoulder.

“Huh?” Nell grunted, her face buried in his chest.

“I should head back.”

“If you want to. You can stay, I don't mind.” Nell yawned. Her eyes closing.

“Okay, but only for a little while.” Henry agreed, closing his eyes. In a few minutes, he would get up, shower, and head back.

With a start, Henry woke, a loud banging noise rattling him. Looking around the dark room, he squinted to find the source of the noise. Hearing someone whispering at a distance, Henry laid in bed, listening. Against him, Nell stirred, but didn't wake. Someone in the hall was talking, no doubt they had been the source of the banging. He had fell asleep, Nell wrapped against him.

Looking at his watch, Henry frowned. 4am. If he left right now, he could be back before anybody woke. If he left now, he risked Kal barking and waking the house. If he waited, he would risk walking in and having to explain himself to one or more person. Of course he could tell them that he'd ran into some old friends, had some drinks and stayed on a sofa somewhere. Too drunk to drive.

Shifting in bed, Nell sighed, her arm around his waist she snuggled in closer. She was content, who was Henry to try and disturb her sleep? He would wait an hour or two, before he made his departure. So what if he waltzed in, being faced by one of his brothers, or even his mother. He was an adult, if he wanted to stay out all night enjoying the company of a fantastic woman, then he would do just that.

Kissing the top of Nell's head, Henry smiled, sinking down further into the covers, closing his eyes.

Tag List Chat

[writing-with-whiplash]

Holding On

“Holding On”

Hey guys! This is a fanfic of @jangofctts amazing clone oc Sweets! Go check out her awesome clone oc’s by searching for “sunburst squadron” on her blog and also check out all the other amazing fics she has! Sweets is her creation. I do not own his character, I’m just writing for him.

Sweets x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY-- Not explicit, but a sexual situation, a little spicy, implied smut; lap dance; swearing; friends to lovers; lemme know if I missed anything!

Summary: Reader, a friend of the Sunburst Squadron, gives Sweets a private dance

Author’s note: The songs I had in mind for the dance were “Movement” by Hozier and “Hold On” by Brooke Annibale if you want to listen ;) 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

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The night had started out like many nights on Coruscant with the Sunburst Squadron. Most of the boys wanted to go out to 79’s--per usual--and they finally convinced you to go with them. Clubs and the usual nightlife of the big planet-wide city weren’t really your thing, the strobe lights, loud music, and crowds of drunken partiers being much less preferable to your calm nights on base. You spent most nights murmuring encouragements to the poor soldiers in the med bay, reviewing paperwork for Void and Blanche so they wouldn’t overwork themselves, or hanging in the target range with Sweets. At the moment, you desperately wished to be in the target range.

The bass coming from the surround-sound speakers was cranked up so high you could feel the vibrations in your tummy and the glass in your hand. Troopers and civies alike paraded about the tightly packed bar, wiggling to the beat like intoxicated sardines. You simply shook your head, nursing your only drink of the night. You had told the boys that you just wanted a little buzz and they didn’t pressure you into getting more while they ordered round after round. Blue and Jaws were already slumped in the booth, although you couldn’t fathom how they could possibly sleep with all the noise going on. Max was chatting up some cute stranger at the bar and by the looks of it, he wasn’t coming back to the barracks with the rest of the group tonight. Blanche had entrusted you with making sure his boys made it back to base, but you knew you couldn’t pry Max away from his prize. Scanning the humid bar for the rest of the squad, you saw Bruiser in the midst of an arm wrestling match. His boisterous laugh barely carried above the pounding music as he smashed his opponent’s knuckles onto the sticky table, earning himself another small pile of credits. You made a mental note to make sure no one tried to pick a fight with him over money throughout the evening. Kami was a little harder to find, tucked away in a shadowed corner as he received a not-so-subtle lap dance from a pretty twi’lek girl. Fuse, the last member of the squad who decided to go out, sat nestled in the booth right next to you, bouncing to the beat of whatever was playing. He watched your gaze linger on Kami and the girl.

Scooting closer to you, he hollered, “Jealous, eh?”

“Jealous of what?” you hollered back. Fuse smirked and nodded his head toward the pair just as the dancer lowered herself in Kami’s lap, swirling her hips in time with the song. It hit you that Fuse thought you liked Kami. “Jealous of her? Fuck no! I’m not after Kami.” You shook your head and downed the rest of your drink, the alcohol burning your throat before settling in your tummy. When Fuse gave you a look of obvious disbelief you leaned back over to him. “I don’t like him! I just--” You paused for a second, debating whether or not to tell your friend about why you kept looking back at the pair. His expectant gaze implored you to continue. “I just wish I could do something like that. Dance like that.” You shook your head again, bracing for some teasing comment from Fuse. The trooper simply stared.

“What makes you think you can’t?” His brow furrowed as you shrugged, not wanting to open up about your insecurities in the middle of the bar. “What, do you think you’re not good enough or something?”

The concerned expression on your friend’s face made you cave. “I just don’t feel confident enough to pull something like that off. I’m awkward and clumsy and she’s so pretty and he’s so into it and I don’t know how to do anything like that. I don’t know how to make someone be into me like that.” 

Fuse’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Girl, you could captivate any guy in this bar if you danced like that. And I know you could do it. I know you could!” Fuse shouted in your ear. “That dress you’re wearing is already stunning. You could take any of these guys home with just a sway of your hips. Why don’t you believe in yourself?”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks as Fuse’s words settled in your ears. You could take any of them home just like that? You shook your head a little at the thought. There’s no way it could be that easy. You were too stiff and nervous to have prowess like that. Besides, the only trooper you wanted was still back at the base, most likely spending his night alone with his sniper rifle in the shooting range. Fuse snatched your mind from the enveloping quiet of the range and shoved it back into the dingy club.

“Maybe you just need some practice,” he purred, scooting impossibly closer and wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Shut up!” You shoved his shoulder at the insinuation, although you knew he wasn’t serious. Fuse cackled with laughter, lightly shoving you back. Your ankle wobbled as you took the weight of the shove on your high heel, damn the skinny things. They looked great, but at what cost? “I have practiced, thank you very much.” As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted telling him. If the air in the bar had been a little thicker, you supposed you could have snatched the words right out of it and popped them back in your traitorous mouth, but they had already entered Fuse’s ears. 

Fuse’s mouth formed a little ‘o’. “And just who have you been practicing with? Honey, I can give you all the tips you need on how to dance like that.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. There was no way in the galaxy you were about to tell Fuse you had spent several lonely evenings practicing a dance on an empty chair. The mirror you danced in front of did nothing to boost your confidence--only betraying wobbly legs and stiff arms. The sensual sway of the music you picked never influenced your movements. It simply made them seem more clunky and out of place. The flimsy armchair rocked dangerously beneath you every time you leaned against it, lacking the anchor of an audience. You had actually slipped off it once, and when Void asked you why you needed bacta for the large bruise blooming across your side, you made up a story about running into your desk in the middle of the night. To make matters worse, you weren’t sure if the audience you always imagined would even want a dance from you. 

Sweets was so shy and quiet. Although he didn’t talk much when you first met him, it only took a couple of days for you to fall completely head over heels for him. After several weeks of working with the team, he had started talking to you about local flora he found on missions and let you watch him in the gun range. You got as close as he would let you, but you had no idea if he reciprocated your feelings. The thought of him refusing you--of him shutting you out--always made your stomach plummet as you tried to sway your hips over the empty chair. You could just see his face freeze at your offer of a private dance--how he would withdraw within himself with a disgusted look and never talk to you again. There’s no way he would ever want you or agree, so why should you risk your friendship over a stupid little dance? 

Fuse ripped you from your spiraling thoughts with a snap of his fingers before your nose. “Ground control to sad girl, do you copy?” You flicked his hand away, trying to rid your mind of its noise. “Come on, I know you. You’re sitting here telling yourself that you can’t do it so much that you’ve convinced yourself not to try at all. And I’m here to tell you that you can do it. Any guy would be lucky to get a dance from you, you hear? Any guy. So who’s the lucky one you’ve been practising for, huh?” 

“I wouldn’t tell you for a million credits,” you shot at him. It was true. The idea of Fuse knowing that you had feelings--and unprofessional thoughts--for his brother were mortifying, not only because of the storm of teasing to follow, but because of the possibility of some of the other squad members finding out, namely the squad member in question. Fuse was unpredictable. 

“I think I know who it is anyway,” Fuse waggled his eyebrows, “and he’s not here with us tonight.” A knowing smirk spread across his face as you shrank back, stomach falling to the dirty barroom floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll never tell Sweets you like him. You’re going to be the one to tell him. No, no, don’t shake your head at me. I’ve seen how you look at him. I’ve also seen how he looks at you when you can’t see him.”

Your head shot up. Sweets looked at you like that? Impossible. The words coming from Fuse’s mouth had to be wrong. The beat of your heart outpaced the music as you desperately hoped he was right. After all the months of becoming friends with Sweets, all the sleepless nights dreaming of his arms around you, his lips on your lips, you couldn’t throw everything away just because Fuse thought Sweets liked you back. But your heart lurched, urging you to give in to your feelings. What would happen if you never told him? You very well could lose him that way, too. The thought of that happening hurt even more, causing determination to dissolve the pit you carried in your stomach. Adrenaline flowed through your veins as you promised yourself to see this through. 

“I’m ready to head back to base.” You stretched and checked your watch. Blanche would not be happy if you brought the boys back too late, and by the looks of Blue and Jaws’ drooling faces, it was going to take a while to get into a cab. 

“Where’s Max?” Fuse wondered aloud, scanning the bar as he pulled his comm out. 

“I think he had company to attend to. I’ll get Bruiser. You can handle Kami.” You left Fuse in the booth before he could protest, eager to get back to base before your nerves convinced you to back out. Bruiser didn’t want to leave his winning streak, but the threat of Blanche’s wrath had him shoving credits into his pockets and heading toward the door. Max had indeed left with his date and Kami begrudgingly left his dancer to help you and Fuse haul the other two onto the small transport. 

Anxieties swirled up from your stomach and into your heart, melting your shoes to the transport floor. You could have let them flood you, drowning out your true feelings and wants in a tidal wave of insecurities and disbelief; instead, you distracted yourself by focusing on the city lights passing by. No matter how much you tried to steel yourself, the waves of doubt lapped at the sides of your stomach, threatening to dissolve you from within. As you drew closer to base, you became more and more nervous until you began to shake. Fuse surprised you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“You got this,” he smiled. “I believe in you. You’re going to do great and he’s going to love it. Trust me on that.” You simply nodded, biting your lower lip to keep it from trembling. 

Sooner than you had hoped, the transport arrived at base. Although Fuse had tried to bolster you again, your knees wobbled and stomach churned as you led the boys back to the barracks. Blanche was waiting for you at the door, nodding at you and failing to hide a yawn behind his hand. You hadn’t meant to return so late. Part of you began to wonder if Sweets was even still awake. No matter what was going to happen tonight, the adrenaline rushing through you wasn’t about to let you sleep any time soon. Just as you hoped that maybe he had gone to sleep already, sparing you from potentially making a fool of yourself, Sweets walked down the hall from the gun range. Your stomach lurched when you saw him, sending little shivers down your spine. You waved at him a little awkwardly and he waved back, touseling his curls a bit before shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket. Fuse cast you one last smirk and helped Blanche herd their brothers toward the bunks. 

“Fun night?” Sweets asked softly, watching the others stumble and weave their way down the empty hall. 

“Maybe for them,” you replied, your voice too quiet. You clenched your hands to keep them from shaking and hoped Sweets didn’t notice. Unfortunately, he did. You couldn’t decide if  it was excitement or nervousness that caused your stomach to tighten at his next action--Sweets grasped your hands in his own. His long, slender fingers intertwined with your own trembling ones and before you could stop yourself, you imagined what they would feel like in other places. Sweets stepped closer to you, his breath fanning across your hair as he tilted his head to the side. 

“You ok?” he murmured. His thumb traced circles across your knuckles, causing you to involuntarily shiver. Sweets took that as a “no” and pulled you into his chest. “Did something happen while you were out?” 

“No.” The word barely escaped your mouth as a whisper into the collar of his hoodie. “I’m just tense is all.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

An idea formed as soon as he spoke. Before you could let it be drowned in nervousness and doubt, you asked him: “Would you dance with me for a little bit? The bar was super crowded and loud and I just want to move around a little bit.” Your heart thudded so hard in your chest at Sweets’ silence that you were certain he could feel it. “Just maybe not out in the hall,” you added quietly. He huffed a small laugh at that, grabbing your hand again to pull you down the corridor.

“Come on.” 

Sweets lead you into his sanctuary: the shooting range. It was completely empty at this hour of the night. Instead of leading you to the target area, Sweets took you up to the observation room. It sat behind the range floor and up a flight of stairs, meaning less opportunity for intrusion. You silently hoped the range would stay empty tonight.

Sweets flicked the dim lights on and you pulled out your pocket music drive, selecting a soft but upbeat playlist. The two of you began to move on your own a little awkwardly from opposite sides of the room, but you gravitated towards each other as the song picked up. Soon, you were giggling as Sweets spun you in circles around him. The knot in your stomach loosened as he laughed with you. The fabric of your dress lifted and flowed with each spin and sway of your hips, making you loosen up a little just to feel it sweep around the tops of your thighs. As you began another twirl around him your ankle gave way above your flimsy high heel. Faster than a shot from his own rifle, Sweets caught you and pulled you into his arms. Your breath shook as you collided with his firm chest, heat tingling in your cheeks...and between your thighs. 

“Maybe you should take those off,” he hummed. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

You breathlessly agreed, kicking the offensive shoes into the corner. Sweets chuckled and pulled you into a slow dance, one hand on the middle of your spine while the other traced small circles into your lower back. Maker, he was going to be the end of you. You laced your fingers behind his neck, trying to calm down as you swayed back and forth. Sweets’ gracefulness on the battlefield had captivated you, almost causing you to get shot on multiple occasions as you watched him instead of paying attention to the battle, and it was no different as he swayed before you.

 “Feeling better?” The words vibrated in his chest, drawing you even closer to him. “I’ll dance with you for as long as you like.” 

You hummed against him. “I’m feeling better, but I want to stay here a while.” The pair of you stood closer than you had ever been before, and it nearly took your breath away. A particularly sensual song came up on the playlist--one that you had practiced your dance to many times--as well as the song immediately following it on the queue. It was now or never. “Sweets, would you like a dance from me?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as your voice squeaked, too afraid of his answer. 

“I thought we were dancing,” Sweets said in a small, questioning voice. You could almost curse his endearing innocence. 

Letting out a nervous giggle you tried to subtly elaborate. “Yes, we are, but I was wondering if you would want me to dance for you.” 

When Sweets seemed to ponder your question in silence, you took it a step further. Lightly, you brushed your hips against his in time with the song, gazing up at him with hooded eyes and parted lips. Sweets’ eyes widened as the realization of what you meant sank it. You watched his Adam’s apple bounce as he gulped, nervousness creeping up from your belly. Finally convincing yourself that you fucked up, that he didn’t want you and would shut you out for good, you shrank away from him, the words I’m sorry just beginning to escape your trembling lips. Before you could slip away and fade from existence, Sweets grabbed you, pressing his fingers lightly into your hips. You snapped your head to find his normally calm eyes beginning to darken. He immediately closed his eyes as a deep flush spread across his face, nodding quickly. Relief flooded you, as well as a new kind of nervousness. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. You could do this. 

With every beat of the music you pushed Sweets gently backwards until he sat in one of the observation chairs. You took another deep breath, going back to all the nights you practiced to this very song. Only this time, you actually had your dream audience sitting before you, darting his tongue out to wet his plush lips. Closing your eyes, you ran your hands across your hips, allowing your muscles to loosen up as you swayed. As the song picked up so did your hips, beginning swirling motions as your hands continued to travel across the front of your dress. Sweets audibly gasped as you lightly cupped your breasts, his eyes tracking every move of your fingers as they deftly kneaded the soft flesh. You knew you had to keep him on his toes, wanting more throughout the whole routine, so you stepped around the chair, trailing your hand across his shoulder and throat as you moved around him. He tried to turn and follow your movement but you turned his face back to the empty room with a light touch against his jaw. His breath shook as you leaned against him from behind, just barely pressing your soft chest to the back of his head. You giggled at his reaction, ghosting your hands down his chest through the thick fabric of his hoodie. 

“You wanna take this off for me, baby?” you cooed into his ear. Sweets nearly smacked you in the face as he rushed to throw the hoodie across the room. A laugh escaped you even as you tried to cover it with your hand and Sweets turned around at the soft sound of it. He smiled sheepishly, eyes crinkling at the corners. You leaned around to press a quick kiss to the heart on his his warm cheek and he immediately whipped his head back to the front, the blush from his face beginning to creep down his neck. 

The song kicked up a notch as you made your way around the other side of the chair. You spun before your captivated audience in a slow, tantalizing twirl, running your hands from your breasts all the way back to cup your ass through your skirt as you turned your back to him. By the time you turned back around to face him, hands trailing down your thighs to lift the dress’ hem up a little, Sweets had leaned forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees. You paced toward him with an exaggerated walk, reaching forward to press him back into the chair. Nudging his feet a little further apart, you stood between his legs, rotating your hips toward him. Sweets’ hands shot up, stopping to hover on either side of your hips. He looked up at you, dark eyes searching for the permission to touch you. 

“Hold on to me,” you whispered to him. His strong fingers kneaded your soft hips as he pulled you closer to him, pressing his nose to the soft curve of your belly. You let out a breathy giggle and carded your hands through his curls. He let out a quiet moan at that, encouraging you to continue. The song on your music drive changed and the beat became slower, deeper.

You gently grabbed Sweets’ face, pulling his head further up your body as your hips swept in bigger circles, almost brushing against his chest. He buried his nose between your breasts, pressing a soft kiss to the skin your dress exposed. A high pitched whine left you and you pulled his hands up to your chest, lowering yourself into his lap. Every touch he gave you sent chills down your spine; hundreds of butterflies bursting from your stomach fluttered across your skin, exploding into stardust in your eyes. You raked your nails lightly across his scalp and down the back of his neck, finally settling on the thin fabric covering his chest as you swirled your hips against his. Sweets arched his body into yours, groaning softly at the contact. He pressed kisses up your throat as you continued your smooth movements, reaching up to pull your face to his. You pressed your forehead to his teal bangs, nudging your noses together as you closed your eyes. This night could not have been more perfect in your mind. Your whole body shuddered as Sweets ran his hands lightly up and down your back, settling again at your hips. 

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed against your lips, voice quavering. 

Maybe this night could be more perfect. You leaned forward to capture his lips with your own, keeping your hands against the back of his neck to press him to you. Sweets moaned into your mouth, shuddering as you fully ground down into his lap. Yes, this night was about to get even more perfect.                

[x-reader-fanfics]

Heyyyy :) I saw your last post w dataxreader, and I was wondering if you’d do another? I LOVED it 😍 maybe one where reader and data aren’t in a relationship yet, but he gets super jealous when someone hits on reader, and then mutual feelings come to light? Eeeek thank you, and if u don’t wanna do this one right away I understand cause u just did one, but thank u anyway, and I love your writing ♥️

🖤 Malfunction 💛

Summary: When a new Ensign takes a romantic interest in you, a new light begins to shine on the seemingly simple relationship between you and your closest friend Data.

Requests are open!

~x~

Data had always preferred working with you.

You understood the nuances of his coding and his odd personality in ways no other officer ever had. Where most would have been confused and perhaps even discomforted by his unusual behavior, you had always found it fascinating, even going so far as telling him it was charming.

“I like hearing things from your perspective. You say such wonderful things, Data.” You had laughed, bumping his elbow with your own as you and him worked for hours side by side.

You were his partner, the completing half of his equation. No one else would get the question right. He needed you, and you needed him.

“Good morning, Data.” You smiled warmly, sliding into his side as you began your shifts together as you always had, greeting him the same way you always had before, kind and soft.

“Good morning, (F/N).” He welcomed you back, cordial and quiet.

Mornings were the moments you always shared together, the small smiles and quick touches which insinuated more but never dared to be recognized aloud.

“I barely slept last night.” You sighed deeply, gently resting your head against his shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut. You reminded him of the Renaissance angels he had often seen in ancient Earth paintings. He should do a painting of you.

“Perhaps a visit to Dr. Crusher would be beneficial.” Data commented idly, refusing to move even slightly, hoping it might persuade you to keep your head buried in the crook of his neck for even a millisecond longer.

Touching you was right. Being with you was right. It was unexplainable, but it was akin to answering a complicated question correctly, or finishing a long project. It was what he had been made to do.

“Hey beautiful.” An unknown voice interrupted Data’s rampant thoughts, causing his golden eyes to flicker toward this intruder into you and his peaceful morning.

“Oh. Hey, Brad.” You slightly sighed, bowing your head politely at him before returning to your work.

“A couple of friends and I are having a party tonight at Ten Forward. I’d love for you to be there.” He grinned, his smile all teeth and his eyes shimmering a bit too brightly.

“A party in Ten Forward. I had not heard of this before now.” Data easily inserted himself into the conversation, cocking his head as he stared questioningly at the Ensign.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Brad rubbed his neck awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable around the android. “There’ll be girls there too. If you’re even into that sort of thing…”

Data missed your eyes shooting towards his, a hopeful but anxious look dancing across your face. You had wanted to admit your feelings to your friend for months now, but your anxieties about his own feelings had always held you back. How could he possibly be interested in other people in such a way? He didn’t even have emotions.

“Tell your friends I will be there.” He smiled, over-animatedly winking as he returned to his work, a small but proud smile on his face. He needed to watch over you and make sure this Brad didn’t try anything which might make you uncomfortable. You were his partner to care for, he nodded satisfactorily within his head, as if needing to justify his abnormal behavior to himself.

You could feel your heart shatter. Data wanted to go to Brad’s stupid party? To pick up girls? You were planning on simply turning the man down and having a quiet night in, but now that Data was going…

“Well you can count me in too.” You had to force yourself to smile, fighting the urge to gag at the way Brad licked his lips and winked at your response. He sauntered away like the cat who had caught the canary, your hands itching to strangle him as you twisted back to your work station, a cheesy smile still plastered to your face.

“Are you interested in Brad sexually?” Data asked with a pleasant smile.

Your mouth fell open, your breath flooding out of you as a wild blush stained your cheeks, hot and embarrassing. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t even breathe!

“W-Why’s any of that your business!” You half-shouted, darting away before he could pry any deeper.

You couldn’t handle it if Data found out you were in love with him.

Ah. Data mused, each and every one of his circuits freezing on one overly-simple thought. It would appear you loved him.

~x~

You hadn’t spoken to Data all day. You were too ashamed to even consider facing him. Running away in the middle of your shift because of your personal feelings was not something a professional Starfleet officer did.

“If I may be so bold,” A familiar voice began, soft and warm in its cantor, “You are positively ravishing this evening.”

Data stood before you, an out-of-character smirk striking daringly across his face as he took your hand in his, lightly grazing his lips against your knuckles.

“Data!” You gasped, barely able to keep yourself from becoming a melted mess.

“What are we doing talking over here when we could be dancing over there?” He smirked, grabbing your waist as he pulled you by the hand towards the dance floor, a grace to his every step.

“What happened to you Data?” You asked, practically breathless.

“I downloaded some new personalities appropriate for such an event.” He dipped you low, brushing his nose against yours as he started deeply into your eyes. “Are you enjoying me?”

You couldn’t help but laugh then, carefree and dripping with affection.

You loved this man.

“Yes, Data. I always enjoy you.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck right in the middle of the dance floor.

Data felt accomplished. Everything was as it should be. You were always meant to be with him, and no one else. It was just what made sense.

You were his closest friend.

“Data, there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you, but I’ve never really been able to.” You grasped his hand tighter in yours, unable to remove your eyes from the floor.

“What is it?” He asked, patient and quiet.

“Pardon to interrupt, but I couldn’t let you keep this beauty all to yourself for the whole night.” Brad smiled confidently, bending his face closer to yours as he attempted to slide between you and Data.

Data refused to budge, pulling you closer against his body. He barely stopped himself from shoving the Ensign across the room.

What was going through his systems? The more Brad talked to you the more Data wanted to never see his face again. The closer Brad got to you the closer Data needed to be to you instead, as if to reassure himself of something.

Any smiles you afforded Brad were meant to be his. He didn’t want you to look at anyone but him.

But such thoughts could only be defined as possessiveness. Something Data knew was inappropriate for friendships.

He released you, giving you one last glance before quickly leaving Ten Forward. He couldn’t bear to see his hands on you, to see the love which would pour out of your eyes for the handsome human, something Data could never compare to.

People did not fall in love with androids.

Even as his system screamed at him to correct things, to take you in his arms and kick Brad halfway back to Earth, he refused to listen. With some simple rewiring he could set his head back on straight.

You were his friend. Somewhere along the way his pathways must have set the wrong link down, convincing himself you might be something more.

His feelings for you were nothing more than a malfunction.

You watched as Data stormed away, confused and hurt by his behavior. One moment he looked ready to clock Brad and the next he was almost throwing you at him.

Did he think you wanted the slime bag?

“He’s never not said goodbye to me.” You muttered almost to yourself, staring after your best friend.

“Maybe he just forgot to.” Brad joked, grabbing you by the hips. “Let’s stop talking about that android and start talking about us.”

You scoffed at him, harshly shoving him away as you ran after Data. You were going to tell him no matter what it took, everyone else on this ship be damned.

You eventually found him in Keiko O’Brien’s garden, his face almost forlorn as he gently caressed an orchid in full bloom.

“Data?” You asked quietly, not wishing to startle him even though you knew that was impossible.

He turned his head to yours, almost in disbelief. “Where is Brad?”

“I don’t know, he’s nobody I’m concerned about.” You stated clearly, stepping towards him. He was so tall, the way he gazed down upon you with such genuine confusion causing you to smother a giggle.

“I do not understand, but it is not a topic I wish to hear more about.” He admitted, returning to his flower.

“And why is that?” You asked hopefully, bunching your dress between your fingers.

He glanced back at you, face blank as he simply contemplated himself, the color of your hair and the look on your face enough to push him over the edge.

“Because I am malfunctioning.” He said simply, stock still as he waited for your response.

You took his hand in your own, holding it as gently as a bird as you squeezed it to your chest. “What if I told you I was malfunctioning too?”

His brows furrowed across his face. “Then we must see Dr. Crusher at once!”

Your jaw dropped, disbelief to the point of amusement dancing across your face as you watched the worry on his face slowly seep into bewilderment.

“I’m not talking about my health, Data.” You laughed, sliding your fingers against his scalp as you pressed your body flush to his. “I’m telling you I’m in love with you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Before you could react he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pressing his lips against yours hard enough to bruise. He wanted you so badly in that moment he had forgotten to restrain himself, pressing against you fervently as he began to kiss the corner of your mouth, sucking and biting his way to your neck.

He couldn’t believe you would say such a thing to him, that you would allow him to do this. It was such a thrilling and new interaction he couldn’t get enough of it.

Without hesitation he pulled your flesh between his teeth, proudly marking you as his as he bruised your neck.

“Data…” You moaned, unable to do anything but limply hold onto him, knowing he would never let you fall.

“My (Y/N).” He whispered happily against your hickey, giving it a quick kiss, before standing back up properly, still refusing to release you from his hold.

Your whole body felt like jelly. Just from a few kisses Data had swooned you off your feet.

“You are so handsome.” You sighed, not knowing anything else to say but exactly what had been on your mind since you had first met the android.

“And you are so beautiful.” He murmured back gently, knowing he would spend the rest of his life saying those words.

[kurokoros]

risky business | dabi

Rated: M

Words: 5.3K

Pairing: dabi x fem!reader

Summary: On your way home, you run into Dabi. He has no intentions of letting you go without having a little fun.

AN: This is a secret santa gift for @vixen-scribbles​ <3 I don’t think we’ve spoken much, but I hope you had a wonderful holiday! Also a special thanks to @the-smut-pile​ for hosting this exchange! This is by far the riskiest (hur hur) thing I’ve ever written, so I hope all of the degenerates out there are happy lmao

Warnings: smut, dubcon (consensual non-consent/roleplay), predator/prey undertones, knife play (and minor blood play) public/outdoor sex, mentions of voyeurism/exhibitionism, anal play, dirty talk (degradation), choking, hair-pulling, spanking/slapping, spitting rough sex, overstimulation, creampie/unprotected sex, aftercare at the end

Blue eyes stare down at you tauntingly from across the alley. He cocks his head to one side, watching as you shrink back against the wall. Amusement flickers across his face, a sick smirk tugging at his lips as you stare back at him, wide-eyed. Frozen in place now that there’s nowhere left to run. There’s a scream lodged in the back of your throat, trying to force its way out, but icy fear tears through your chest and rips the air from your lungs.

As your bottom lip trembles, his smirk only grows, pulling grotesquely at the staples holding his mismatched skin together. Burning, turquoise eyes look you over slowly, trailing from your terrified expression to your legs, your bare skin on display thanks to your short little skirt. Hungrily, he devours you with his eyes. Expression calculated. His eyes are practically glowing as he stalks towards you, his irises reflecting the light of the blue flames dancing threateningly on the tips of his fingers.

The predatory glint in his gaze makes your stomach twist into knots, but you still can’t will your legs to move.

“Well, what do we have here?” Dabi asks, his voice low and rough. A shiver runs down your spine. He stops when the two of you are nearly touching, an inch of space left between his chest and yours. Close enough for you to feel the immense heat radiating from the flames. “You lost, sweetheart?”

Concern drips from his tongue, but it’s mocking. Snide. Maybe the question would sound sincere if you didn’t know exactly who he was. If it wasn’t a wanted criminal standing in front of you. A villain. If he wasn’t looking at you like you were prey that he hunted down.

He’s playing with you. Toying with you now that he finally has you cornered. The chase was fun while it lasted, but now he has you right where he wants you, looking up at him like you’re nothing but a scared little animal. It’s pitiful, really. How easy it was. You made it so easy for him to catch you, almost like you wanted to be caught. A willing participant in the game of cat and mouse.

You don’t respond. Can’t. Desperate, your gaze flicks towards the mouth of the alley, hoping to find someone who could help you. The streets are still busy this late at night, the last train yet to depart.

It’s with a sinking feeling that you realize no one is going to help you. Most of the passersby refuse to look into the dark alley. And the lone man who does quickly averts his eyes.

Dabi’s gaze follows yours. Sick satisfaction bubbles in his chest when he watches the same man scurry away, his eyes wrenched away from the scene, ignoring what he’s just seen.

The flames licking at his knuckles extinguish themselves. Smoke wafts through the night air, dispersing slowly.

The tips of Dabi’s fingers scorch your skin as he grabs you by your jaw, digits digging into your chin. You wince as he yanks your head around, forcing you to face him. The fire is gone, but his hands are still burning hot, and his grip is tight enough to hurt. When your eyes lock, you find it impossible to turn away. Hypnotized by that deep shade of blue.

Suddenly, your mouth starts to work. “Please,” is all you manage to choke out, trying to beg him to stop, but the rest of the words die on your tongue.

“That’s right. Start begging like the little slut you are.” You want to shake your head, but his grip is too tight. “I’m in a good mood tonight,” he says, digging his fingers into your cheeks even harder, liking the pained grimace you give him. “Be a good girl for me and this won’t hurt too much.”

Hot fingers brush against your bare leg, and you’re wrenched back to reality. You slam your hands into his chest and shove him away. He grunts, taken off-guard by your boldness, and stumbles back just enough for you to slip away. You throw yourself to the side, lunging towards the mouth of the alley. But Dabi is faster. Before you can get far, he’s on you again. A strong arm wraps around your waist and hauls you back. You start to cry out, but the sound is smothered by a scarred palm covering your mouth. Instinct drives you to lash out, but Dabi throws you up against the wall before you can kick him.

It knocks the breath out of you. This time, his hand wraps around your throat and squeezes hard, choking you. It doesn’t take long for black spots to dot your vision. Your hands scramble for purchase around his wrist in a weak attempt to pull his hand away. Hot metal burns your fingertips. And you claw at him, your nails digging into the back of his hand and ripping at the staples holding him together.

Dabi swears as you manage to tear one of them out. The bloody staple clatters to the pavement, and the quiet, metallic chiming sound it makes might as well be a death toll. It’s followed by a louder shink that makes your blood freeze in your veins.

Cold metal grazes your cheek. Your struggling comes to an abrupt halt, your grip on his wrist loosening. Heart skipping a beat, your stomach twists as he carefully drags a knife down to your jaw, the sharp tip digging into your soft skin, though Dabi is careful not to cut you.

He sighs, low and frustrated, and you fight the urge to curl into yourself when he levels you with a harsh look, blue eyes alight. “You really wanna piss me off, dollface?” As he taps the blade against your cheek, you squeeze your thighs together, ashamed of the slick feeling growing between your legs.

When it becomes clear you aren’t going to fight him again, he releases your throat. Lightheaded, you gasp for breath. The knife shifts away from your skin, but doesn’t go far. Moonlight reflects off the blade as Dabi holds it in front of you, letting you get a good look at the thin, sharp object. The threat is blatant, and you shrink back against the wall.

There’s an audible hitch in your breathing as the tip of the knife touches your collarbone. The cold steel against your bare skin almost makes you flinch, and Dabi chuckles when he hears the small, shaky sound that falls out of your pretty mouth.

“Not so brave now, huh?” he murmurs, dragging the flat side of the knife along the column of your throat. You shiver as he ghosts the blade over your pulse point. “You gonna behave this time, or do I have to teach you a lesson first, pretty girl?”

The question hits you between your ribs, and you bite your lip when the knife slides back over your collarbone, trailing towards your cleavage. He clucks his tongue when you don’t respond. “Answer me,” he demands.

The blade stops when he reaches the top button on your shirt. You hold your breath as the sharp tip slips beneath the fabric. The button pops off and falls to the ground as Dabi slices through the thin string holding it together, revealing more of your pretty skin to his predatory gaze.

With the knife tracing the curve of your breast, you don’t dare ignore him. “No. I’ll—I’ll behave,” you tell him, stumbling over your words. Unintentionally, you arch your chest into his hand as the knife presses against you even harder, just shy of marking you.

“Good girl.” Dabi slips the knife under the next button, but changes his mind before he can cut it. Instead, he places the blade under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Now why don’t you strip for me?”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me.” Dabi shoves his knee between your thighs, forcing your legs apart. Your stomach rolls, but you have to stifle a moan when he grinds his leg against your clit through your panties. “Give me a show. Nice and slow, and maybe I’ll let you cum when I fuck your cunt.”

There’s something perverse about undressing yourself for him. Letting him watch as your shaking fingers fumble with the buttons on your shirt, practically ripping at them in your hurry to comply. He’s making you a willing participant in your own humiliation. Dabi wets his lips, rocking his thigh against your cunt with every button you pop open, which only makes you fumble more.

It doesn’t take long for him to grow impatient. As you struggle with the last button, Dabi murmurs a curse and tears your shirt open for you.

In his haste, the knife nicks your collarbone. The pain makes you whimper, and you flinch, causing the knife to dig into you harder before he angles it away. Blood wells in the cut. It isn’t too deep, or too long, but it stings. Your hips jerk against Dabi’s thigh, grinding against him. This time you moan outright, pleasure mixing with the pain, though you’re ashamed of yourself for it.

Dabi tenses when you mewl and rut against him, watching, fascinated, as a line of blood drips down your chest and soaks into the lacy cup of your bra. Even in the dark he can see the fabric stain.

There’s a split-second pause after as he presses the knife to your face. His demeanor shifts. Those blue eyes meet yours, searching your gaze, and he hesitates. Like he’s waiting for something. There’s blood on the blade from when he cut your chest, and it smears across your mouth as he slowly traces your bottom lip. Your gaze doesn’t waver, and you taste iron on your tongue after he pulls the knife away.

He slips back into character as his fingers slip into your hair. Dabi grabs a fistful of the soft strands and yanks, forcing your head to the side. A pathetic little whimpering sound is all that comes tumbling out of your mouth, and he smirks as you look at him with wide, teary eyes that do the begging your mouth can’t.

Your shirt is left intact as his attention shifts lower. He removes his knee from between your legs, and you almost whine at the loss of contact that you know you shouldn’t want. It shouldn’t feel good, but it does.

The knife leaves your cheek.

You tense.

The flat of the knife teases the inside of your leg, and you don’t dare move as Dabi drags it higher, inching closer to your dripping pussy. His hand disappears under the hem of your skirt, and you mewl, back arching off the wall as a hot hand teases your sensitive inner thighs. The fabric bunches around his wrist, revealing inch after inch of velvety soft skin to the chilly air. He grabs your leg with his other hand. Scorching fingers dig into your thigh, easily prying your legs further apart. As you shiver, Dabi runs the blade against you, making you squirm even more from the cold and the underlying threat of danger.

He stops. Looking down at your trembling form, Dabi eyes the mess he’s made of you already: your shirt ripped open, chest bloody where the knife sliced you open so easily, your skirt hiked up over your quivering thighs. You’re practically begging for him to bury his cock inside of you. Fuck you like a little bitch in heat.

You’d take his cock so well. Squeeze him just right. But he’s not done playing with you quite yet.

Suddenly, the knife is pressed up against your panties. The flat edge grinds against your clit, and you squeal. Without thinking, you grab his arm again, this time to steady yourself. His fingers are slick with blood where you ripped out one of his staples, but you don’t care, clinging to him as your legs threaten to give out. Your head falls back against the brick wall as he rubs the blade against your covered slit. “Don’t,” you plead, voice weak and laced with arousal. “Please…”

Dabi laughs when a soft, pleased mewl slips from your lips, your hips rolling back against his hand as he rubs your clit with the flat of the knife. It’s fucking filthy. Hot. And you hate how good it feels to have him play with your pussy like this.

You willingly spread your legs for him this time, and Dabi finally pulls your skirt over your hips. He leaves it bunched around your waist and takes a small step back to watch you grind your slutty cunt against the knife.

By now, your panties are soaked with your arousal. An ache settles low in your belly, and your walls clench around nothing as he presses harder against your clit. Tears burn at the backs of your eyes, shame swirling sickly in your stomach as you tug on his wrist instead of pushing it away.

The blade shines under the moonlight, glimmering wetly, and he quirks a brow. You barely stifle a whimper as he pulls his hand from between your legs. Before you can squeeze them shut, he shoves his knee between your legs again, his thigh grinding up against your pussy, not allowing you a moment to breathe.

“Look at that,” he muses, twisting the knife between his fingers so that you can see your own slick glistening on the blade. “Fuck, that’s hot. Thought you didn’t want me, dollface?” Your skin burns where he touches you. “Look how fucking wet you are already. Kinky little slut.” You turn your head away, but Dabi grabs your chin and forces you to look at how wet he made you.

When he’s sure you’re paying attention, he lifts the knife to his mouth. Heat flares in your belly as he licks your slick from the blade. Taunting you.

You slump forward as he yanks his knee away from your pussy, your legs giving out underneath you. Dabi catches you, manhandling you as he grabs your hips and spins you around; shoves you up against the wall, your cheek pressed to the bricks as his hand fists in your hair. You barely have time to steady yourself with your hands. Dabi presses the knife against the curve of your ass cheek, and you gasp as the sharp blade slips under your panties. He cuts the lacy fabric away and it flutters down, catching around your ankle. It’s soaked through with your arousal, cold against your leg.

The knife dangles from his fingers, pressed up against the inside of your thigh. The blade barely grazes your clit this time, teasing your slick folds. This time you can feel the cold metal against your swollen nerves, the sharp edge so close to nicking your sensitive folds.

Dabi slaps your ass suddenly. You squeal, hips lurching against the knife. He angles the blade away before you can cut yourself, spreading your cheeks apart so he can see your dripping slit. By now, you’re practically trying to grind against the knife, anything to relieve the tension between your shaking legs. It hurts. And the humiliation that washes over you only makes it worse.

“Gonna cum for me already?” Dabi asks, watching your hips stutter as he brings the knife back to your thigh. You whimper as he nicks you again. Warm, wet liquid beads in the cut, blood mixing with the fluids dripping from your drenched pussy. The blood smears against your leg as he rubs his knuckles against you. “Dirty bitch. Cum then. Or do you need a little help getting there? Hmm? You want me to make you cum all over my fucking hand?”

You shake your head, sobbing as he tosses the knife to the ground. Dabi’s arm wraps around your front as he brings his hand back to your leg. His fingers burn as they trail across your inner thigh. Small welts in the shape of his fingertips scorch your skin, leaving marks that won’t disappear for weeks.

Lazily, he strokes your clit, hand still hot to the touch as he rolls the swollen nub with his thumb. His chest molds against your back, crushing you between him and the wall as he traces your slit with two fingers.

Your body responds eagerly to his touch, your legs spreading to accommodate his hand. He chuckles as your hips roll against him, practically begging for him to fuck you, to make you cum over and over until you can’t take it anymore. And he’s more than willing to give your body what it wants.

You gasp as he shoves two of his fingers into your pussy, immediately picking up a harsh pace as he fucks you with his hand. You make it easy for him, your pussy taking his fingers so fucking well. They’re thick and long inside you, and it doesn’t take him long to find that spot that makes you squirm and cry out.

He shoves your face harder against the wall. Bits of brick dig into your cheek, but you barely feel them as he grinds his palm against your clit.

Expression contorted with bliss, you whimper as he forces a third finger inside your tight cunt, your walls stretching around the digits. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, rough thrusts picking up speed as your legs tremble, threatening to give out beneath you. It stings. Too much. Too soon. But Dabi doesn’t stop his brutal pace, even when there are tears streaming down your face and you choke out a sob, pleading with him to stop or slow down.

That only seems to encourage him. He yanks on your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder so that your back is arched and he can see the line of blood dripping down your chest. You wince as one of the staples on his palm catches on your clit. The cool, metallic sensation is foreign and rough, but so, so good. Dabi grinds against your ass suddenly, making sure you feel every inch of his hard cock.

There’s a mocking tone in his voice when he asks, “That hurt?” He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing with fast circles. “Can’t be that bad if it’s making you this fucking wet. Bet you like this, huh? Fucking slut. Letting a villain play with your cunt like this. Are you gonna cum for me? Fuck, this pussy is gonna feel so good around my cock.”

Your cheeks burn as you hear the slick sound of his fingers thrusting into your pussy, fluid dripping down his hand. Humiliation burns in your chest as you realize how quickly he’s going to make you cum just by fingering you in some dirty back alley. And your body betrays you, your cunt clenching around his fingers as those staples rub against your swollen clit again. The contrast between his hot fingers and the cold metal is dizzying.

“Please,” you whimper as he curls his fingers against your sensitive walls. Your pussy clenches around him tighter, a knot winding tight in your belly as he forces you closer to the edge.

Dabi lets go of your hair. You moan as he slaps the back of your thigh. “Desperate little bitch,” he calls you. “Begging me to play with your dripping cunt in some dirty back alley. Now fucking cum. That’s all you’re fucking good for.”

It’s him degrading you that gives you that last push you need, your body unable to fight him anymore. Dabi’s fingers curl just right and your hips buck into his hand, taking him deeper. Those staples rub against your clit harder, and your body locks up as an orgasm rips through you, leaving you breathless as you cum all over his fingers with a silent scream.

He drags your pleasure out until you’re crying, but you’re too weak to push him away. All you can do is squirm and cum again as he overstimulates you. And you feel empty when he finally pulls his drenched fingers from your cunt.

You slump against the wall as he lets go, fingers scraping the bricks as you try to hold yourself up on your trembling legs. He doesn’t allow you to get comfortable though. Dabi’s hand slaps your ass, and he chuckles when you squeal. He takes a step back, watching your cum drip down your thighs before glancing at your swollen pussy.

His belt jingles as he rips at the buckle, tearing at the leather. Your cunt clenches. Dabi shoves his pants down his hips just enough to pull out his thick cock, the tip flushed and beaded with pre-cum. He hisses as he strokes himself, his fingers running over the piercings lining the underside of his dick.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you realize his fingertips are on fire as he grabs your waist and forces you to bend over, giving him a nice view of your ass and your sloppy cunt. His grip on your hip is bruising, his burning fingers digging into your side harshly, branding you with more small burns. You flinch away from the heat, but Dabi only grabs you harder, holding you in place.

You whimper as he rubs his cock against your slit, rocking against you slowly just to torment you. The metal piercing through the head of his dick is hot enough to make your toes curl as it rubs against your sensitive clit, your nerves frayed from his earlier ministrations. The bricks beneath your hands scrape at your palms and scratch your cheek. Unwanted arousal further mixes with the sharp spikes of fear prickling at your skin, sending heat flooding your belly as slick drips down your inner thighs.

“Please,” you mewl as he reaches between your legs and lines his cock up with your entrance. Dabi easily knocks your legs apart when you try to squeeze them shut. “Please, stop, I can’t—” Your protests turn into a choked moan as he swipes a finger over your clit to shut you up, getting sick of your whining.

That’s all it takes to distract you, your naughty hips wiggling against him enticingly when he rubs with fast circles, his fingers heating up.

It’s amusing, Dabi thinks. How you keep pretending you don’t want this. How you keep telling him to stop when your body is begging for him. Little slut.

He buries himself inside of you with one hard thrust, splitting you open with his cock. You squeal, jerking, and buck against him, taking his cock even deeper as your walls stretch around him until it hurts. He’s so fucking big inside of you. Even his fingers weren’t enough to stretch you out. And the piercings lining the underside of his shaft rub your walls perfectly as he drags his cock back out until only the tip is left inside.

“Knew you wanted a fat cock inside of you,” Dabi sneers, laughing as you clench around him and moan. “Fucking cock slut.”

Dabi doesn’t let you breathe as he starts thrusting and grinding against your dripping cunt, fucking you roughly from behind. His hips slap against your ass with each hard thrust. His fingers dig into your waist. At some point, one of his hands palms your breast, slipping beneath your bra to pinch and pull at your nipple.

The filthy sound of your wet walls clinging to his thick cock fill the alley. Abruptly, you’re reminded that anyone could walk by and see you like this. Sobbing and moaning as you let a villain—a wanted criminal—fuck your soaked cunt. The thought makes you clench around him harder, your pussy sucking him in deeper.

And Dabi knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he tells you, grabbing either side of your waist so he can drag you back on his cock and fuck you harder, using you for his own pleasure. “You get off on this? Being fucked where anyone could see you?” He snorts. “Naughty girl.”

You shake your head weakly, and Dabi laughs at you again. More tears burn your eyes.

Dabi grins as you start rolling your hips back against his, finally taking his cock like a good girl. Your teary cries have softened into muffled moans and mewls, slutty little sounds that make his cock twitch. Every thrust makes his piercings rub against your walls. Your pussy won’t stop fluttering around him. Clenching and trying to take him deeper.

You’re dripping all over his cock and balls. Making a mess all over him with your sloppy pussy. He can’t help but dip one of his hands between your legs to run his fingers through your slick folds. He rubs your clit with his thumb until your hips start to twitch, then cruelly pulls away just to hear you whine and beg for him to touch you.

A slicked-up finger slips between your cheeks, and you squeak as Dabi’s thumb presses against your hole. The way you moan when the digit slips inside of you is needy and embarrassing. The knot in your stomach coils tighter as he stretches you out, playing with your ass as he fills you with his cock.

Your muscles clench around him. Dabi’s fingers dig into your ass cheek, spreading you apart so he can watch you take his cock, see his finger shoved inside of your other slutty hole. The sight makes his cock twitch inside you, and he groans.

Dabi’s thumb pops out of your hole. He slaps your ass hard enough to make you cry out. Fingertips dig into your skin, littering you with small burns that make you writhe underneath him. The air surrounding you is sweltering, leaving you sticky with sweat.

He grabs you by the neck, yanking you upright and pulling your back flush against his chest so he can whisper absolutely filthy things in your ear. You latch onto his wrist again, your head lolling back against his shoulder, back arched in a pretty curve. The new angle has his cock battering your sweet spot with every thrust, and your hips move with his, grinding back against him as his fingers constrict around your throat, choking you. Dabi shoves your torso against the wall, giving himself better leverage as he fucks you harder.

A hand dips between your legs again, this time to play with your clit, rolling and pinching it with his fingers. He’s going to make you cum one more time. Make you cum around his cock like the slut you are. Stubbornly, you try to squirm away from his rough touch, refusing to give in. Pissed, he slaps your cunt, making you squeal. Hot fingers roll over your clit, and this time you give in to the heat, letting it cloud your mind as you lose yourself to bliss.

Blue eyes glance at your parted lips, your mouth open as you pant, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. Dabi tightens his grip on your neck. Tilts your head back for a better angle. Spits in your mouth. Your eyes widen, but he squeezes your throat. “Swallow it,” he murmurs in your ear.

You do as you’re told, further humiliated. But you don’t have time to dwell on it as his cock pounds you and his fingers swirl over your clit just right.

Your mouth falls open as you clench around his cock, cumming hard, your orgasm tearing through you. It leaves you breathless. The only sound you make is a choked whimper, a mewl that almost sounds like his name, but it’s so muddled you can’t tell. Your legs tremble beneath you, Dabi’s chest and hands the only thing holding you up.

He fucks you through it, groaning again as your cunt spasms around him. Dabi drags your orgasm out until it hurts, your body sensitive and spent from everything he’s put you through.

With a resounding slap, he buries his cock inside of your pussy, cumming deep inside of you. The rush of warmth has your eyes fluttering shut, a sigh falling from your pretty mouth.

Thick, milky fluid drips down your thighs as he eases his cock out of you, tucking himself back into his pants. Cool air brushes against your wet cunt, and the uncomfortable feeling makes you shift. Dabi’s cum is sticky on your legs. Hot. And he slips a hand between your legs to shove it back into your pussy.

Your heart is still pounding in your chest when his grip starts to slacken. Dabi’s hand loosens around your throat, allowing you to breathe again. Heat sinks into your skin as he rubs his thumb against your hip, soothing a tender spot where his fingers dug into you a little too hard. There are burns there. Not bad enough to scar, but you’ll feel them later every time you move, his touch imprinted on your body, claiming you.

Possessiveness flairs in his chest, and he presses himself closer to your back, relishing the feeling of your body against his. Slowly, he moves his hand higher, slipping it under your ruined shirt. Two fingers tap against your waist, demanding attention like they did earlier, when he leaned in close while walking you home and told you to run. Indulging in a scene the two of you have only talked about before.

You looked at him with such wide eyes when he did, nervous and excited. It was the heat in his gaze that sent you running, pangs of arousal already getting you wet before he even caught you.

“Hey.”

Dabi sighs when you don’t react to the sound of his voice, your gaze far off as you stare at nothing, your breath slowly evening out. He adjusts his grip on your waist, squeezing you just a bit tighter to his chest. “Hey,” he tries again, jostling you with his shoulder. His fingers dig into your cheeks when he grabs your chin, gently turning your head towards him. The pad of his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, coaxing you back to him. The vacant look in your eyes slinks away when his gaze finds yours in the dark. And you sink into deep blue. “You with me, doll?”

The arm looped around your waist doesn’t lose its tension until you finally nod.

Slowly, you lean into the hand on your jaw, soothed by the heat and the rhythmic motion of his thumb stroking your cheek. Dabi lets you nuzzle into him, your eyes falling shut. His breath fans over the side of your face, and you subconsciously lean back against the warmth sinking into you from behind, seeking out his affection.

“Okay?” Dabi presses his lips to your temple, lingering as you sigh.

“You broke character,” you whisper as he eases you around in his arms. And you cling to him, hands fisted in the back of his jacket and your head tucked against the side of his neck.

He only shrugs. “Wanted to give you a chance to tell me to knock it off. Didn’t think you’d like me cutting you up like that.” His tone turns teasing. “But you took my cock so well, didn’t you, doll?” He runs his hands down your hips. “What a good girl. Next time I might fuck that cute ass, too.” Dabi grabs your cheeks and squeezes suddenly, and you squeal, giggling as he forces you up onto your toes. “Bet you’d like that.”

Dabi kisses from your neck to your collarbone, his lips finding the small cut he made. It’s stopped bleeding already, but there’s a ruby line trailing down your chest. You sigh as he focuses his attention there, being unusually soft with you.

You call out his name—his real name, but he shakes his head, pulling away to level you with a fond look, and you realize he needs this as much as you do. “Let’s get you home, doll.”

[junosartsthetic]

Flustered

Remember that old edited fic I promised yesterday? I finally got around to finishing it. Happy late birthday to number one gremlin. 

Wordcount: 1406

Character(s): Bakugou Katsuki, (Y/N)

Warning(s): Innuendos. Swearing. 

Note: This is an updated version of a one-shot I originally posted on my Quotev account.

     The first time you had seen your soon-to-be classmates was on tv. Apparently your new school, UA, was popular enough to broadcast its sports festival on ESPN. This alone alerted you that this would be an interesting next few years.

        A sudden conversation reached your ears as you passed by a group of students meandering down the hallway, seemingly on their way to the class 1-A door, as well.

        “I’ll fuckin’ kill that damn nerd if he steals my moves again,” a very disgruntled blond growled, his hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned forward, looking very much like a gremlin. You recognized him as the first place winner of the festival—Katsuki Bakugou. 

        A spiky-haired redhead let out a nervous laugh. You vaguely remembered him—Kirishima. “Don’t be like that, dude! Midoriya is just bein’ like you because he knows you’re one of the best!”

        The blond smirked. “Damn right I am. I’ll kick his ass once and for all when I become number one hero.”

        You let out a snort loud enough to catch the attention of the aforementioned gremlin. Oops.

        “The fuck you laughin’ at, bitch?” he spat, stopping his trudge to glare at you. His friends looked ready to hold him back. They shot worried looks your way. 

        “You—” you took in a breath to stop yourself from laughing—”you sound—” you snorted— “You sound so sure of yourself! Love that confidence! Good for you!”

        He narrowed his eyes at you to the point where only a sliver of bright red remained. “The fuck is that supposed to mean, you fuckin’ moron!”

        You scrunched your nose mockingly. “Oh, I’m sorry. My mistake. I wasn’t aware every pro in a hundred kilometer radius is set to self-destruct once you graduate. Well, if you graduate.”

        Kirishima, a blond with a black bolt of lighting in his hair, a black-haired dude who looked rather stoned, and a pink girl with yellow horns all struggled to contain their laughter.

        You noticed Bakugou’s eye twitch and opened your mouth to comment, but the words were taken out of you when he suddenly charged at you, a murderous expression on his face. Death on your first day. Great.

        “Bakugou, wait!” Kirishima yelled, but it was too late. 

        Your back met a wall harshly, and two arms caged your body in, making it impossible to get away without a fight. You heard your back crack. Free chiropractic services at least?

        “If you ever say that about me again, I’ll fuckin’ rip your face off, bitch!” he barked, his face only a hair away from yours as his eye bore into yours. You squinted. Was that a vine reference?

     A twinge of fear gripped you, but instead of showing it, you did the next best thing. “Ooh~, feisty~!” You let out a flirty growl, winking at him. This was, in fact, not the next best thing. It was, however, hilarious to your goldfish brain. 

        A dash of pink spread across his cheeks, but his expression remained pissed and he kept eye contact. “Shut the fuck up!”

        You raised an eyebrow, keeping your cool. “Oh, why don’t you make me, pretty boy~?” Good job, (Y/N). Good social skills. You are nailing this. This is definitely the way to get out of the situation. There is no other possible option. 

        “Pretty-” he paused, glaring daggers as his face flushed pinker- “the fuck are you getting at, bitch!”

        You brushed off the growing apprehension of knowing he was going to snap at any moment and pursed your lips. “I don’t know, what do you want me to be getting at?” you replied, shrugging as you did so. You resisted the urge to bite your lip like a moron. What the fuck were you doing? Flirting? Fighting? Who knows. Certainly not you. 

        “The only thing you’re getting on now is my last goddamn nerve!” You felt a rumbling of the wall, and assumed he was using his quirk slightly, succumbing to anger. Would you have to pay for any wall damage he caused? You didn’t have wall insurance. Yikes. Maybe you could write it off on your taxes later. Just kidding. You don’t do taxes.

        “Well maybe if you’re lucky I can get on something more personal later,” you purred, giving a wink. (Y/N), no. Stop. You wanted to bash your head against the wall. What was this word vomit? You’re embarrassing yourself. 

        His face went bright red faster than you’d ever witnessed, and he finally broke eye contact to look sideways, his breaths coming out heavy. Oh shit. 

        You smiled, proud of yourself for winning whatever wild staring contest was happening, but that smile quickly left your face when he turned back towards you, a smirk on his lips. Ohhhhhh shit.

        His expression radiated cockiness, and you gulped. It was the same face he made throughout the sports festival- the one he put on when he knew he was going to win. You sucked in a breath, smiling awkwardly. Maybe if you just… apologize? Leave somehow? 

        The others knew what was happening; they could feel the tension in the air. Kirishima gestured to the classroom door some ways down the hall, and the others nodded, beginning to walk towards it with Ashido being pulled away by Kaminari. What the fuck? They were just gonna leave you here? Rude. You did deserve it, though. This was all your fault. 

        There was now an unspoken war between you two, but you refused to surrender. Whoever made the other so flustered they couldn’t take it won. And you wanted to win.

        Taking in a breath, you copied his expression. Okay, (Y/N). Just fake it ‘til you make it. Be cocky. Be the hoe you always claimed to be. “So, firecracker, you gonna say anything? Finally shut me up? Prove just how good you are at being number one at absolutely everything?” You mentally patted yourself on the back. Good quip? Good quip. Nice. You were nailing this. 

        “I know a way to shut you the fuck up-” he moved closer, now leaning over you with his forearm resting above your head- “but you might moan a little.” 

Sir, this is a Wendy’s drive-through.

        You bit your cheek in a vain attempt to stop yourself from blushing. 'Fuck, that was hot.' Regardless of your reddened state, you pressed on. “Oh yeah? Moan in irritation, maybe. You may have the looks but I doubt you got the touch. Of course, feel free to prove me wrong~.” You winced. They make it look so much easier in the movies. You could feel your confidence crumbling.

        He scoffed. “You wanna fuckin’ bet?”

        “Oh, I kinda wanna be fuckin’ something, but it’s not a bet,” you quipped, moving one of your hands from the wall to grab his messily-knotted tie. You smiled smugly.

        He remained speechless for a moment, his crimson eyes peering into yours. Then his gaze moved lower down your face. 'Is he looking at my lips? Is he going as far as to actually kiss me?' Oh fuck. Abort mission! Abort mission! Call it quits, moron!

        You tugged on his tie, tilting your head. “Oh? Did I break the future number one hero? Did I win against the Katsuki Bakugou?” Jesus Christ, (Y/N), you stupid hoe! Stop it!

        “Remember what I said about shutting you the fuck up?” he angrily whispered, teeth grit in irritation.

        You nodded. Oh no. 

        “Well, if you say another goddamn word I swear to God I fucking will.”

        You clicked your tongue before pressing it against the roof of your mouth, morbidly curious about what he would do. Luckily for him, you drank your full dose of dumb-bitch juice. Finally, you leaned forward and tugged him by his tie so you were nose to nose. “Bet.”

        You felt the roughness of lips on yours, but only temporarily, as Bakugou was suddenly flung away from you and into a mess of grey scarf.

        “Get to class,” Aizawa muttered, glaring at both of you, “NOW.” Yikes. Busted.

        You gave a swift nod and bow before skipping down the hallway, but not before turning behind you to wink at the caught blond and mouth 'later.’ 

        His face went red and he turned away. You felt you were in the lead in whatever competition you’d just started, and from here on out, it was going to remain that way. At least, you hoped so.

[superspookywombat]

falling {j.h} chapter ten

Warnings: very descriptive injury, I don’t want to specify because of spoilers, so if you’d like to know more details then you can message me :)

Taglist:  @Sleepy-whore @geekysimmerthings @mauvette268 @treestarrrrrrrr @kaleigh404 @krazykatkay456 @meganlikesfandoms @darknacademia @hi-my-name-is-riley @vdtwsupernatural @selmeuuh @raindancer2004 @wondersandtempests @royale-trash-slytherin @im-hella-bright @bootylimpics @livfg @It-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @peacemusicinch @coffeeslut16 @bvbwestfall @Actuallyedythecullen @stan-joonies @Peacebuglove @Millie-753 @Frozenhuntress67 @i-tried21 @seaevans @femflorals @arseofrivia @trashysara @vulgarfuckinvirgo @sleepysnapesnake @hey-bulldogs @mental-breaker-74 @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @duty-isnt-always-honour @jelly-fishy-babie @carnagefuck @clubpengiunn @wondersandtempests @100-percent-loving @fandomsandmore394 @pomiotszatana @cherrybuck @alohorcruxes @harryskillerqueen @left-in-the-woods @galaxypox @what-if-im-the-bad-guy @daughterofanarchy997 @camillapad @babieboth @thequeerishere555 @your-average-wallflower @anxiety-station @xo-sophiemae-xo @rachthestressedbandobsessed @amordesiempre01 @avalon68 @imaginebeinlovedbyme @vampiregirl1797 @scuzmunkie @maelleoute @popwhitlockanddrop @aliinova

A/N: okay so while writing this my heart was beating so fast. there were parts where I literally had to step away from my computer and take a breather. anyway, hope you enjoy!

“Oh, wow.” You say as you inspect the ring in the tiny box that Bella holds in front of you. Moonlight reflects off the tiny diamonds on the clunky jewelry, and you mentally grimace at how uncomfortable it has to be to wear.

“You don’t like it.” Bella sighs. You quickly shake your head no, then take the ring and rotate it around in your fingers to appear more interested. 

“No! No, I think it’s beautiful, it has so much.. Character.” You say, plastering on an even bigger smile than before. “I’m just thinking that it’s gonna be hard to hide from Charlie; that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m planning on telling him soon.” She says. You glance at Edward, who’s leaning against the wall of the house, blanketed by the darkness of the night. He watches you and Bella carefully, as if she’s going to disappear any second. “So, um, I’m going camping this weekend with Edward’s family.” 

“Oh, I thought we we’re going to go up to Seattle this weekend..” You say, your smile deflating. 

“I know I said I could, but I forgot I already made plans with Edward. Sorry.” Bella frowns, slipping the ring back into the box. You nod, staring down at your shoes.

“Your whole family is going?” You ask, glancing up at Edward. If you couldn’t hang out with Bella, maybe Jasper was free.

“Yes, Carlisle likes to take us camping whenever the weather is nice.” He answers, his face blank. You mutter a soft ‘oh’, then return your gaze to your feet. 

“We should probably get going, Bella. Before Charlie wakes up and realizes that we’re not there.” You say. She looks taken aback by your sudden want to leave, but she stands up nonetheless. Edward goes inside to retrieve his keys, while you and Bella walk down the path to his Volvo. You lean against the SUV and stare at the stars while Bella fiddles with her sweatshirt zipper.

“Look, I’m sorry for ditching you this weekend, but I need you to trust me.” She says, her tone serious. Your eyebrows furrow, and you glance at her to see her foot nervously tapping against the pine needle-littered path. 

“What aren’t you telling me, Bella?” You ask, your heart suddenly picking up it’s pace. She tucks her hair behind her ear and glances at the house, where Edward is closing the front door behind him.

“I- I can’t tell you. But I need you to trust me and stay with Charlie. And do not leave the house.” She says.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Your voice quivers as you ask. Edward stops in front of the car, unlocking it. Bella looks at him and bites her lip, then she looks back at you. 

“Just trust me, okay?” She asks, then gets in the car, shutting the door and ending the conversation. Your blood freezes as you get anxious. What is Bella getting herself into? 

----------

Before Bella left, she took her sleeping bag and the tent from the attic that hadn’t been used in a long while. A pit hung in the bottom of your stomach as she climbed into Edward’s car, but she assured you before she got in that everything was okay and that there was nothing to be worried about. Her apology didn’t ease your nausea however, nor the anxious thoughts that ran through your head. Currently, you sat on the couch, the morning after she left, an old and familiar blanket pulled tight around your shoulders, as if it would deflect your negative thoughts. 

The wind outside howled past the window, and you shuddered as the weatherman on TV explained that a chill would make its way into Forks tonight. Glancing at the clock, it told you that it was a little past noon. You threw the blanket off of your shoulders, standing up and deciding to make some macaroni and cheese for lunch. 

As you were draining the boiling water from the noodles, the phone rang. You flinch, jumpier than usual, and set down the pot. Reaching the phone, you pick it up and hold it to your ear.

“Hey, kiddo. Billy just called and invited us over for burgers and the game. I’m leaving work early today, so leave soon to meet me down there.” Charlie says. 

“Uh.. okay, sure. I’ll leave in five.” You say, confusion taking over your mind. You murmur a goodbye, then hang up the phone and go upstairs to change. Pulling your shirt off, you get the weirdest feeling that someone is watching you.

                                    --------------------------------------------

Deep in the mountains, a fight rages on between Victoria’s army and the Cullens. As Victoria corners Edward and Bella, she looks between the two and cackles. 

“Interesting. If you’re here protecting Bella, I wonder who’s home protecting Y/n..” She says, her eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips. 

“No! You need me, not her!” Bella yells, her mind clouded with frustration and worry. The redhead sighs dramatically, her stride flanked by Riley. 

“Of course I don’t need her. But she’ll be just for fun. It’ll give me an excuse to rip the blond one to shreds when he comes after me.” She says, referring to Jasper as she nonchalantly picks at her nails. Edward crouches into an offensive position while Bella’s eyes widen and her hand places itself on her agape mouth.

“No..” Bella cries. The wolf lurking in the woods, ready to strike, overhears the conversation and sends a message to the others.

Miles away in a clearing, Jacob relays the message to Carlisle, who tells Jasper. Before he even hears the words fall from Carlisle’s mouth, Jasper feels his overwhelming grief. 

“Go. We’ll be fine without you. Go to her!” Esme urges him, and he takes off running. When he reaches his motorcycle that he drove to the clearing, he kicks it started and races down the backroads, the bike’s speedometer topping out at 125 MPH.

                                  --------------------------------------------

A breeze makes you shiver, but the realization that you shut and locked your windows after Bella left makes you freeze. You glance up into the small mirror that rests on your dresser to see a dark figure standing behind you. Screaming, you grab the first thing in arms reach- a lamp- and grip it so tight that your knuckles turn white. You whirl around and raise your arm, ready to strike, but the figure moves impossibly fast and slams it’s foot into your stomach, sending you crashing into the wall. Intense pain in your chest makes you groan. As the figure comes into light, you see that he has bright red eyes. You try to scream again, but the pressure in your chest restricts you from taking the breath to do so. You cough, and blood dribbles down your chin.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Y/n Swan..” He mutters, licking his lips as he trails his eyes down your body. 

“Who.. Who are you?” You ask weakly. He rolls his eyes, crouching down to meet you eye to eye. 

“It doesn’t matter who I am. You’ll be dead before you even have the chance to repeat my name.” He whispers harshly. His hand flies to your throat, lifting you up so that you’re suspended in the air. His hand tightens, making you instinctively reach up and claw at it with your nails. Your attempt is futile, as his skin is so hard that your fingernails snap off, leaving your fingers as bloody nubs. Your eyes widen as he presses down harder, your mouth falling open as you gasp for air. You can hear your heartbeat in an ear-deafening thrum, and your head feels like it’s exploding as you try to scream out. No noise comes out, though- if anything, just a squeak. The guy pulls you close to him, pressing his nose to your neck as he inhales deeply. “Such a shame I can’t take a drink. Victoria said we can’t leave anything to chance. You smell absolutely heavenly, and I can hear your blood pumping- screaming out for someone to sink their teeth in and suck you dry.” 

“Well, maybe one taste wouldn’t hurt..” He smiles, his lips pulling back to reveal two sharpened teeth. The sight gives you a second wind, struggling against his grasp even harder. He doesn’t seem affected in the slightest, sliding his hands down lower on your neck for a moment before brushing your hair out of the way to give him access to your bruising neck. Closing your eyes and preparing yourself for the pain to come, a thump behind your assailant startles you and him. He flinches, momentarily clenching the hand around your throat. A crunch is heard as a squeak escapes your lips, and then you’re dropped to the floor, unable to breath. You reach your hands to your throat as blood pumps from the wound that your crushed trachea caused. You gurgle as you drown on your own blood, your vision dotting and the overwhelming need to close your eyes taking over as you see Jasper lunge.

                                    --------------------------------------------

Jumping off his bike, Jasper doesn’t bother to flip down the kickstand as he runs and jumps through the window into your room. At the sound of his entrance, a black haired vampire looks over and snarls at him. Jasper sees red at the sight of the vampire’s hand gripped around your throat, and once he sees him drop you he lunges. Tackling the guy to the ground, he wrestles with him until he has the access to reach his neck. Planting a foot on the guy’s shoulder, Jasper twists his neck until a crisp snap bounces off the walls and the vampire goes grey and limp. Jasper stares down at the body, never having felt this much fury coursing through his veins. The sound of gurgling snaps him out of his blind rage, and his eyes widen at the sight of you laying on the floor, your hands attempting to stop the bleeding from your neck. Blood fills his nostrils and his throat burns as he longs to drink your sweet smelling blood. He kneels over you as your hands go limp and you fall unconscious. He knows that your time is coming to an end, and it’s coming fast. His eyes burn with the need to cry, though he knows he can’t; and his throat burns with the need to drink your blood that sits there, seemingly staring back at him. He clenches his jaw as he thinks back to how you make him feel like he’s alive again. How you smile at him and how whenever you’re around him he’s overwhelmed with total adoration. How he doesn’t want to exist without you. How he loves you more than anything he’s ever loved before, and how desperately he needs you. And so he pulls your limp body to his chest and buries his face into your neck, sinking his teeth into your delicate skin and letting the venom seep into your veins. 

[ourstarscollided]

jatp fanworks appreciation - day 3 (wips)

wip wednesday - I didn’t think I wanted to join in on this day for my own stuff considering I’ve never posted anything original for this fandom, but I think this might just be the little boost I need from myself to actually finish the wips that I have sitting around. I am peer pressuring myself and holding myself accountable by posting this - or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. Most of the past 6 mths has just been me screaming to no one in a Google Doc, so here are some things I’ve been ruminating about over the last 6 months (and if my secret agenda is to get other people to write about it so I don’t have to? Then that’s between you and me).

Everything’s under a read more because I like giving context and that usually spirals out of control!?!?

If you would like to see more from any of the below, feel free to shoot me an ask/message and I can definitely share some more! (Or you can just come yell at me about JATP in general.)

Strangers Fake Dating AU // Julie x Luke

I’m a simple person. I see a prompt, I latch onto it, and then I completely miss the entire point of the prompt as my imagination goes wild for no real reason. This really was supposed to be a super short drabble, but it manifested into a 3k+ thing that isn’t even finished.

Julie’s not really sure what she’s supposed to do now. Nothing has ever prepared her for a situation in which she’s supposed to pretend to be a stranger’s girlfriend, especially if that situation involves parents. Does she continue this ruse? Can she come up with a quick enough excuse to tell this Luke character that she actually can’t stay? What if this is just all an elaborate plan to kidnap her? Has she been listening to too many true crime podcasts? Why does Luke smell so good? Does he know how to cook? Why does his shirt not have sleeves? What-

“I can hear you thinking from here.” Her head whips up at the sound of Luke’s voice, which is now at a whisper and kind of frantic. “I just- I just really needed to get my mom off my back, so I kinda need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for the night. I swear I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

Julie studies Luke’s face and it’s nearly impossible to not cave under his gaze, which can only be simply described as ‘puppy dog eyes’. She finds herself smiling back, letting out a huff, “I hope you like lasagna.” And the grin that spreads across the boy’s face is enough for her to know that he’s incredibly relieved that she agreed.

“I’m Luke by the way. Luke Patterson.”

(Okay, he’s kinda cute. And no one this cute is a serial killer. Right?)

She gives a small smile back, “I’m Julie.”

//

5+1 alive!Juke AU // Julie x Luke

Inspired by paper - LANY

This is one of the first things I ever felt the urge to write down back in September because I love exploring the idea of how two people can appear to be the perfect relationship on the outside, but are actually fighting their own demons. Especially when it comes to celebrities and people who are in the spotlight. It’s basically a 5+1 fic about the moments from other people’s perspectives who happen to orbit around Julie/Luke that all revolve around paper. My outline for this is so long because I can’t manage to narrow it down, and there’s zero cohesiveness but I do have little things jotted down.

“Hey little man,” Luke’s knelt down to match his 5 year-old height, and a hand extends out to him for a high five, “What are you doing here?”

His eyes flicker to the left, towards his own apartment door, where his mom is giving him an encouraging nod. “ I- I just wanted to-” he stutters and finds himself looking at his feet as he shuffles back and forth on the spot. “I- I drew you guys something!”

He shoves the paper out towards the older boy in front of him, but doesn’t look up.

//

Reincarnation AU // Julie x Luke

I had a random thought in December about how magical it is that Julie and Luke are so tied to one another that their love transcends time and space, which will always lead them back to one another. I remember reading a book a long time ago about how the main character is fated to die at a certain age, and that kind of sparked this little idea. I can’t bring myself to actually plot out every single timeline right now, but I did manage to write a little bit.

It will never be as complex as Rosie’s idea and all the wonderful additions in the link here, and I don’t really plan on it being anything more than a small idea. But I really do still think someone should write some sort of reincarnation AU cause I’d hop on that so fast!!

“Okay- that’s not- Luke. You seriously just ran away?”

“What was I supposed to do Alex? We all know how this ends.”

His friend looks at him, face painted in understanding and he sighs, “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

Because it’s true, Alex does know, so does Reggie and Bobby. Most importantly, so does Luke. It’s the exact same tragic love story every time.

Call it a curse or fate or destiny. Maybe it’s because Mercury is in retrograde. Whatever. It always ends the same way - with a heartbreaking goodbye, a whisper of the promise that they’ll find each other again, and the possibility of a happy ending. He’s said the same goodbye at least 734 times, but it’s not like he’s counting or anything. Fuck the universe and its mystical ways.

//

Competitive Alex // Alex x Willie

No real thoughts or reasons for this other than I just think I self-projected my need to play board games with people in real life into a fic. And maybe a little bit of my competitiveness onto Alex and then threw in Willie because I think he would be able to handle it while also finding it endearing. I also have written nothing about the actual competitiveness, it’s just 2k words of Alex crushing on Willie.

“Wait,” his eyes dart between the three boys, “You both know Willie? How come I’ve never met him?”

His roommates look at each other, and there’s a smirk on Luke’s face when he says, “Actually Alex, I think you have. Remember that time you got really drunk after one of our shows?”

Oh no. He really hopes that it’s not the time he’s thinking of, so he tries to sound nonchalant. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Luke.”

“The night we played at that tiny bar at the edge of the campus! We got paid in those tiny colourful shots?” He doesn’t really know where Luke is going with this, so he’s slowly nodding along. “And you were super upset that the hot dog vendor at the end of the street was closed?”

//

Dear Julie, Love Mom series

I made myself sad with this thought when I first watched the show and was talking to my friend about how I think that Rose would’ve left messages for the Molina family, especially when we found out that Wake Up was actually from her mom. I wrote a bigger explanation for it here.

Anyways, I started with the one for Julie’s wedding and it kind of became an 8k monster with three different POVs?!? As much as I love how I wrote this, I feel too unsure about my writing to share it in full, so you will get carefully selected looks alkfe. (I’m also kind of stuck on some of the more emotional scenes and I may or may not have procrastinated by photoshopping a moodboard for it.)

Excerpt 1 (Julie POV): A look into where I’m going with this whole letters from Rose thing.

The key clicks into place, and with a turn, the latch falls open. She’s not sure what she wants to find in the box, and she’s too scared to think about it really. All she knows is that this was the sign from her mom that she was waiting for all week, and in true Rose fashion, her mom had managed to give it to her, even if at the last second. Her dad turns the box to face Julie, and gestures to her to open up the lid.

Tucked inside is a VHS tape, the words ‘For Julie, on your wedding day’ written in her mom’s cursive on the cover. Some loose glitter and confetti fall back into the box as she reaches in to pick up the tape and turn it over in her hands. There’s a little purple butterfly etched on the back, the same one that’s been drawn on all the other messages that her mom had left her. Her finger automatically finds its way, tracing the shape of the small doodle.

“Do you want me to leave you alone, mija?”

Excerpt 2 (Julie POV): This part has absolutely nothing to do with the main plot of the story, but it self-inserted itself into this fic after @tangledstarlight and I talked about You’re Still the One by Shania Twain being their first dance. This whole scene came to me at 4am one night and might be the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever written.

They knew that when they had asked Reggie to be in charge of the first dance performance, that they (and Alex) weren’t allowed to veto any of his ideas. Luke had warned Julie that that would be a mistake, but the giddiness that radiated off of Reggie when she had told him he could have free reign was worth it. She just hadn’t thought that he would actually take it to heart and run with it.

Sure, they had chosen You’re Still the One by Shania Twain as their first dance song, and sure it was more or less a country song, but she didn’t really imagine that she’d be staring at her adoptive brother, Carlos and her Dad wearing cowboy hats and boots at her wedding. They had somehow managed to ditch their Flynn-approved suit jackets and were sporting a taupe-coloured suede-textured vest over their dress shirts. If she looked closely, she could see that they had somehow also found some gaudy looking bolo ties with a matching set of ornamental clasps to wear. When she envisioned her wedding, she really didn’t expect that her first (public) dance as a married couple would be a full-on Western themed occasion. The only exception was Alex, who had settled on his cajon in the back, still in his pink suit, eyes rolling when she met his gaze. But even she knew how there was no real annoyance in the blonde’s reaction or else he wouldn’t also be wearing one of the tacky ties around his neck as well.

“I’m gonna seriously kill him.” She hears Luke grumble under his breath, only low enough for her to hear. But she’s still too busy giggling to actually be mad, and she knows that Luke isn’t really going to kill Reggie. At least she doesn’t think so.

Excerpt 3 (Luke POV): Idk man. My mind went “What about Luke?” and I said “You’re right!! What about him?!?”

He doesn’t realize that he’s just been silently staring at the woman in front of him, until a gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Julie’s peering at him from under her eyelashes, a curious look on her face.

“You just-” he gives a little shake of his head, trying to come up with the right words. He wants to tell her she’s beautiful. Stunning. A wicked beauty. But she’s more than that - she’s almost angelic. “I can’t believe you’re my wife.”

“Luke, we’ve been legally married for like, a whole year.” Her lips are quirked up in a grin, amusement in her voice. “You’ve only just realized that now?”

“That’s different.”

“Yeah? Different how?”

This feels a little strange to post and a little like my inner self seeking validation but let’s not talk about that.

Kskssj anyways present me @ future me: finish one of these because writing has been really cathartic for you and you didn’t think it would bring you so much joy!!!

[beybladefanfictions]

Ryuga’s Return - Chapter 8

(Description: AU where Ryuga survives Metal Fury but loses L-Drago. He reunites with Kenta and struggles to figure out what he’s supposed to do without Beyblade, his purpose in life for so long. Character’s thoughts are in asteriks.)

Ryuga’s POV

Ryuga and Kenta were sitting on the couch in the living room, watching the dumb show that was Yugioh: the dumb, entertaining show that was way better than it had any right to be based on the concept alone. In the middle of an episode, Ryuga’s phone rang.

“What the?” Kenta asked, pausing the show. “Who in the world is calling you?”

Ryuga picked up his phone. “Madoka,” he answered standing up. “It must be about the bey.”

“Wha…?” Kenta tilted his head to the side.

Ryuga walked to the kitchen, answering the phone as he leaned on the wall. Madoka was on speaker. Ryuga could tell by the distinct whirring sound of her equipment through the receiver.

“Yes?”

“Hey, Ryuga!” Madoka greeted, the whirring sound of her tools suddenly stopping. “I’ve got good news. The WBBA just contacted me about your bey. It’s done! They want you to pick it up at three o'clock today!”

“Okay…?” Ryuga raised an eyebrow. *Why did she call me to say that? She could’ve easily said that over text like she normally would.*

“You’re excited to try it out, aren’t you?” Madoka prompted.

“I’m going to,” Ryuga replied, dodging the question.

“Okay, well you’ll need two people around when you do-”

“You and Kenta,” Ryuga replied, cutting her off.

“Uh… okay, sure! I wanted to see you use your new bey…” She let out a groan. “But I have so much work to do…”

“Take a break.”

Madoka sighed, “Yeah, I could use a break… I just hope Chris, Dynamis, and Tithi don’t mind waiting longer… Well, I’ll see you later, Ryuga.”

Ryuga hung up and walked back into the living room.

“They finished the bey,” he answered, sitting next to Kenta again.

“Wait, really?!” Kenta’s eyes lit up. “About time! Are we picking it up or…?”

“At three. We have time,” Ryuga replied, unpausing the show. Kenta gave him a weird look before looking back at the TV.

*This is it… I’m really going to be getting the new Beyblade.* Before this moment, the idea that Ryuga was getting a new Beyblade seemed intangible or too far in the future to consider but it was happening today. He would have the chance to finally Beyblade again. The thing that had once been his passion, his entire purpose for living, he would be able to do it again. The idea sparked some joy for Ryuga. However, it was short-lived as he remembered that it wasn’t L-Drago. *Can I truly connect with any other bey as I did with L-Drago?* He would find out soon…

-------------------------------

Ryuga walked beside Kenta and Madoka, his white jacket flapping behind him in the wind. 

“This better be worth it,” Ryuga grunted.

“It will be,” Kenta insisted, looking up at him. “I mean, the bey took a week to make. It’s gotta be good.”

“From what I heard, most of that time was spent trying to figure out how to get it to rotate left,” Madoka informed with a smile. “It’s never been done by the WBBA.” She looked up at Ryuga. “You should be grateful, Ryuga.” She spoke in her normal cheerful tone, yet her words alone were enough to annoy Ryuga.

“Don’t tell me how I should feel,” he growled, his eyes narrowed.

“That’s not-” Madoka looked away, clenching her jaw. “Ugh, whatever, you’re impossible.”

Kenta pushed the door to the building open, allowing Ryuga and Madoka to walk inside before following them. The three of them stepped into the office. The director was sitting at his desk.

“Ryuga…” There was an edge to his tone, like usual. “Here for your Beyblade, I presume?”

Ryuga rolled his eyes. “Why else?”

The director’s eyes narrowed.

“Uh…” Kenta stepped in front of Ryuga. “Do you have it?”

“I do.”

The director held up a red and white bey. Ryuga stepped closer to gaze at it. It was predominantly red and white though there were bits of black on the fusion wheel, along with a depiction of a black dragon on the facebolt. The colours brought to mind Meteo L-Drago: Ryuga’s second bey. His heart suddenly ached.

“Its name is the Jet Black Dragon,” the director informed, dropping it in Ryuga’s hand. “Not the most creative name but it was the best we could come up with.”

Ryuga stared at the bey. It was much lighter in his hand than L-Drago Destructor had been, with a thinner spin track and performance tip. Ryuga dipped his head. Clutching the bey, he turned and walked out of the office. Kenta and Madoka followed.

“Can I see the bey?” Kenta asked.

Ryuga handed it to him without a second thought. Madoka and Kenta both stared at the bey. Ryuga stopped beside them, gazing at the new bey with a chill. *I never would’ve handed L-Drago over like that to anyone, not even Kenta…*

“What did he say it was called?” Kenta asked, looking up at Ryuga.

“The Jet Black Dragon,” Ryuga scoffed. “What a mouthful.”

Madoka rolled her eyes. “Says mister ‘Dragon Emperor soaring flight.’”

Ryuga couldn’t help but smile. “You mixed up my dark move and my ultimate move.”

Madoka looked away, folding her arms. “Whatever.”

“If you’re going to make fun of me, at least do it right,” Ryuga teased, continuing to walk. Madoka and Kenta followed.

“So…” Kenta’s eyes were fixed on the bey in Ryuga’s hand. “Are you gonna rename the bey?”

���I’ll call it something for short…” Ryuga stared at the dragon on the facebolt. “Draco?”

“As in the constellation or the character?” Kenta asked, smirking a bit.

“The constellation, of course.” Ryuga glanced up at the sunny sky. *The same one L-Drago was named after…*

Madoka began giggling to herself. “Ah yes, Draco Malfoy the Beyblade.”

Kenta laughed a bit. Ryuga was too confused to counter them. *They’re clearly talking about something I’ve never heard of.* He turned to his bey, Draco.

“So, uh, where do you wanna test out the bey?” Kenta asked.

“Outside the city. Away from people.” Ryuga growled the last word.

“Um…” Madoka raised an eyebrow. “We’re people, Ryuga.” She gestured to Kenta and herself.

“You don’t count.”

Kenta smiled.

“Wha-” Madoka’s eye twitched. “What is that supposed to mean?!”

“Madoka, it’s a compliment,” Kenta explained, turning to her.

“How do you know?”

“I know him,” Kenta snickered. “He hates people.”

Ryuga smiled a bit, keeping his gaze focused on the path ahead. They walked through the city before reaching the forest where Ryuga would frequently take walks to escape the chaos of Kenta’s family. The trio stopped in a glade, where there were fewer trees to get in the way of his Beyblade.

“You sure this is where you want to use your bey for the first time?” Madoka asked, looking around. “The ground is really uneven here-”

“Nothing I’m not used to,” Ryuga replied with a shrug.

“Here, you can use my launcher for now.”

Kenta handed him a ripcord launcher, very different from the string launcher Ryuga usually used or rather, once used. Ryuga placed the bey on the launcher. Kenta and Madoka immediately backed out of the way. Their gazes were fixed on Ryuga.

A wave of anxiety hit him like a slap to the face and he suddenly froze up. Ryuga looked away. *Where is this stage fright coming from?! I’ve never been nervous about Beyblading, even in front of a large crowd!* Then again, Ryuga had always had full faith in himself and his L-Drago.

He cast a glance at his bey. *Draco… don’t fail me.* Ryuga closed his eyes and took a deep breath before launching the bey.

For a brief shining moment, fire blazed in Ryuga’s spirit, as strong and fierce as a fire breathing dragon. It was almost as if he were still fighting alongside L-Drago. Then he opened his eyes. The bey spinning before him on the forest floor could be mistaken for L-Drago at first glance but the longer he stared, the more the fire in his spirit fizzled out.

“Go Draco!”

Even his words seemed almost empty. The bey drifted to the left with as little effort as Ryuga had put into the command. Madoka and Kenta gawked at the bey.

“They actually got it to rotate left…” Kenta sounded somewhat shocked.

“Well yeah,” Madoka replied, matter-of-factly. “That’s what Ryuga asked for.”

Kenta shrugged. “I didn’t know if they’d actually do it.”

Ryuga struggled to focus on the bey as Kenta and Madoka chatted. Draco’s spin was somehow already slowing. He growled. There was power in this bey, Ryuga could feel it, yet bringing it out was like trying to set fire to water. He silently urged the bey to keep spinning.

“Put your heart into it, Ryuga!” Kenta called.

Ryuga’s focus shattered and the bey wobbled before stopping completely. He let out a grunt.

“Ryuga?” Kenta and Madoka both gazed at him in confusion.

“What happened?” Madoka asked, tilting her head to the side.

Shame washed over Ryuga like a wave in the ocean.

“I’m still getting used to this bey,” he replied, kneeling down to pick up the bey. “It is new after all.”

However, as Ryuga stared at the bey in his hand, he knew what the true problem was. *This bey isn’t mine. How can I connect with this bey if I don’t even consider it mine?* Ryuga’s head hung low. Standing up, he began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Kenta called, chasing after him. Ryuga stopped. Kenta stopped beside him, staring up at him desperately.

“I need time alone,” Ryuga informed, starting to walk again.

“You’re not allowed to use your bey without at least two other people around, you know?!” Madoka called.

Ryuga tossed the bey and launcher to Kenta, who fumbled a bit before catching them. Like before, Ryuga felt no remorse departing with the bey, this time for a much longer period of time.

“I’ll tell mom and dad that you’re out on a walk,” Kenta informed.

Ryuga nodded his thanks. Even once the two were out of sight, Ryuga’s shame didn’t fade. His failure with the new bey was implanted in his mind, playing on loop. *It must have looked like I wasn’t even trying.* Ryuga had tried: tried desperately to connect with the new bey, but something had prevented him from properly doing so. It was like there was a wall in his brain.

Ryuga couldn’t connect with this bey as he had connected with L-Drago. His original bey had been the only thing he cared about before Kenta came along and somehow found a way into Ryuga’s heart. Ryuga had L-Drago at a time when he had no one else. Maybe that was in part why Ryuga couldn’t imagine ever connecting with another bey in the same way he had with L-Drago.

The entire time Ryuga used Draco, he just felt dumb. He knew from the start he couldn’t replace L-Drago, yet this new bey resembled it in colour, type, and structure. He had even named the bey after the same constellation L-Drago was named after. In retrospect, Ryuga thought it was kind of pathetic. *I have to see Draco as its own bey… that’s the only way I can become more powerful with it.* The idea sparked nothing within Ryuga.

He let out a growl. *Beyblade was my entire life for years and now I get the chance to do it again and I don’t even want to take it?! What am I even doing without Beyblade?!* During the now two weeks Ryuga had been living with Kenta’s family, he had spent most of his time trying to take his mind off his former bey. Sometimes he didn’t have to try as hard, like when he was watching that show with Kenta, but nothing he was doing had any sort of purpose. Beyblade had been his sense of purpose. However, it was abundantly clear now that Beyblade couldn’t do that anymore. Ryuga let out a sigh. *I told Kenta I’d try… My promise is fulfilled.*

Ryuga stiffened when his phone went off.

-Kenta’s dad: Dinner’s almost ready.-

*I guess that’s my cue to return,* Ryuga thought, rolling his eyes. Besides, he was hungry. Hunger was the most powerful motivation Ryuga knew of, whether it was hunger for power or simply hunger for food. Somehow the latter was even powerful enough to make Ryuga deal with Kenta’s parents.

Although it had been a week since he had accidentally fallen asleep at Madoka’s shop, Ryuga was still convinced that Kenta’s parents were mad at him. So rather than annoyance, anxiety grew within Ryuga as he walked to the house. If he put even one foot out of line, it could lead to Kenta’s parents taking their anger out on him, like Doji always had.

Ryuga took a deep breath before pushing the door open. Kenta and his parents were all sitting at the table, gazing up at him as he entered the house.

Kenta’s dad greeted him with a wave. “Hey, there he is.”

*Yeah, I can read.* Ryuga bit back the words. He sat next to Kenta at the table, where a bowl of soup was already waiting for him. It looked a bit like ramen. However, the broth was much lighter than ramen broth and there were far fewer toppings.

“What is this?” Ryuga asked aloud.

“It’s pho, a Vietnamese food,” Kenta explained, holding up some noodles in his chopsticks.

Ryuga looked around the table, but he didn’t see any forks. His blood ran cold when he noticed a pair of chopsticks next to his bowl. *I never properly learned how to use these things…*

Ryuga held both chopsticks close together as if they were a pencil, his fingers bunched up and close to the bottom of the sticks. The few noodles he picked up repeatedly slipped back into the bowl. Ryuga let out a growl.

“You’re… holding them wrong you know?” Kenta’s dad informed, tilting his head to the side. Beside him, Kenta’s mother was covering her mouth with her hand, looking as if she was trying not to crack up.

“I knew that,” Ryuga growled.

He wanted to snap his chopsticks in half. *I must be the only person in Japan that can’t use these stupid things.* He bunched his fingers close together, trying even harder to grip some of the noodles. One of the sticks was flung backwards. Ryuga winced as it hit the table, taking a chunk of noodles and broth with it. Kenta yelped in alarm. Across the table, Kenta’s parents were chuckling.

“You’ve never used chopsticks, have you?” Kenta’s mother asked.

“What gave that away?” Ryuga grunted, doing his best to clean up the broth and noodles with a napkin. Kenta’s parents laughed a bit more. Ryuga glared at them. “Yeah, laugh it up, why don’t you?” Ryuga burned with shame, fighting the urge to duck under the table and hide.

Kenta’s dad snickered. “Sorry, it is a little funny.”

“Do you need help, kiddo?” Kenta’s mom asked, reaching across the table.

Ryuga stiffened, quickly turning to Kenta. “Kenta.”

“Oh, uh, hold them like this.” Kenta held up his chopsticks. His fingers were higher up and much more spread apart, with his pinky and ring finger on one chopstick and his rest on the other.

Ryuga mimicked the position. His fingers instantly felt awkward, but he was finally able to grab some noodles and a piece of chicken in the chopsticks. The soup was, admittedly, delicious, but definitely not worth all that effort. In all his struggling with the chopsticks, Ryuga hadn’t noticed the spoon leaning on the edge of the bowl. He glared at Kenta’s parents.

“Never make me use these again,” Ryuga growled, using his chopsticks to push some noodles onto the spoon.

“You could’ve just said something, kiddo,” Kenta’s dad replied, clearly trying not to smile. “We’ll buy more forks for you to use.”

“Thanks…. Ryuga grunted.

“You could also try using your right hand,” he suggested.

Ryuga dropped his chopsticks to facepalm.

Kenta let out a sigh. “Dad, he’s left-handed.”

“Oh…” Kenta’s dad shrank back a bit, looking away. “Nevermind, sorry.”

“Did you seriously not notice?” Kenta asked, resting his hand on his face.

“I dunno,” Kenta’s dad replied with a shrug. “I thought he was ambidextrous or something.”

“That’s literally less likely, honey,” Kenta’s mom teased, nudging her husband’s shoulder.

Ryuga tuned out their conversation, trying to focus on his food. He didn’t bother using the chopsticks properly. He scooped the noodles and garnishes up with the spoon and stabbed the pieces of chicken with his chopsticks to punish them for their crimes.

“So, Ryuga-” Ryuga stiffened when Kenta’s dad said his name. “-we heard you got your new Beyblade today.”

Ryuga nodded.

“Oh!” Kenta perked up. “Here!”

He grabbed the red and white bey out of his pocket, placing it on the table. Ryuga gazed at the bey. He stiffened, casting a glance at Kenta. *I have to tell him…*

“What’s its name?” Kenta’s dad asked.

Ryuga glanced at Kenta’s parents. *I’ll tell him later, when we can be alone.*

“Draco,” Ryuga answered.

“Like Harry Potter?” Kenta’s mom asked, tilting her head to the side.

*What is she talking about?* “Like the dragon constellation,” Ryuga corrected, pocketing the bey.

“Oh…” Kenta’s mom chuckled a bit. “Yeah, that makes more sense.”

“It’s okay. Madoka and I thought the same thing.” Kenta turned to Ryuga, his gaze suddenly lighting up. “Ooh Ryuga, we should watch those movies.”

“We don’t need another series, Kenta,” Ryuga sighed, resting his hand on his forehead. *Yugioh is more than enough.*

“But Yugioh is really long,” Kenta protested.

“Exactly.” Ryuga stabbed a piece of chicken and bit it off the chopsticks.

“Alright, alright, one series at a time…” Kenta returned to his own food, using his chopsticks like a normal person. “Wait, you’re willing to watch all of Yugioh?!” He gasped, dropping his chopsticks.

Ryuga didn’t answer.

“You do like it then,” Kenta replied, smirking a bit.

Ryuga rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he grunted, nudging Kenta’s side. *So what, I like one of the characters? The show is still stupid.*

Kenta chuckled into his hand. “But, uh, anyways.” He suddenly sounded serious. “Once you get more practice with Draco, I’d really like to battle with you.”

Ryuga stiffened. “Battle me?” he asked, turning to Kenta.

“Well, yeah.” Kenta tilted his head to the side. “Don’t you want to?” There was disappointment in his voice and on top of that, he was giving Ryuga that stupid puppy dog eyed look.

Ryuga looked away. *I promised him I would try…* He let out a sigh. Ryuga had tried earlier to connect with his new bey, but it had only been for a few minutes. *I can try harder. I never gave up on a bey battle and I won’t start now.*

“I need more practice first,” Ryuga replied, taking a bite of his pho.

“But battling strong opponents is the best way to practice.”

“Kenta, you’re a strong opponent and I can barely control my new bey. I need more practice on my own.” *Well, as alone as I can get with two people constantly watching me.*

“Well…” Kenta nodded. “I guess that makes sense. Is… a week enough time?”

Ryuga fell silent for a few moments. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” Kenta smiled, nudging Ryuga’s side. “I’ll get you back for last time, just you wait.”

“We’ll see,” Ryuga replied, dipping his head.

*He’ll completely destroy me if I don’t figure out how to connect with my new bey.* Ryuga held up the bey. *I have a week… maybe this fight is the push I need.* Despite having no attachment to this new bey, Ryuga couldn’t stomach the idea of losing to anyone.

[2460nodone]

Hell is a Relative Term (1/2)

Title: Hell is a Relative Term  Category: Plays/Musicals » Les Misérables Author: AliceInSomewhereland Language: English, Rating: Rated: T Genre: Supernatural/Romance Published: 05-21-13, Updated: 05-22-13 Chapters: 2, Words: 9,662

[Part I] [Part II]

Summary: Eponine is one of the few who stand between humanity and hell, sworn to fight evil and protect the helpless, even if it costs her her own life. Vampire slayer!Eponine. e/e. Rated for language/content

Original author’s note: Ok guys, here we go with fic #2 for the Fic War on tumblr! This one was a prompt from tumblr user poeticbibliophile: "Modern AU prompt? One line for you, m'amie — 'Are you afraid of the good you can do?' from Les Miz, V. Hugo. Tag me if you chose this. TY!"

Part I

What if I told you the stories were true?

What if you knew that there really are things that go bump in the night? Things that live under your bed and in your closet just as much as they live in your mind, things that stalk you in the dark and prey on your terror? That all the monsters your parents ever promised you were pretend exist? That sometimes, people die, evil wins, and that the light cannot always banish your fears?

*

The world was hell.

There was no other way to put it.

No one really knew why these creatures existed, but they did. They ruled the night, mauling and feasting and terrorizing the population all the world over. It had always been this way; God had long ago forsaken the world and its inhabitants. Hell had swallowed Earth, and its demons walked with sorry humanity.

But there were people to fight it. Men and women, chosen for their strength, their character, their skill. They were given tasks, they learned the weaknesses of the different creatures, and eventually specialized in one specific type of Hellbeast.

*

"Eponine!" a voice shouted.

A young woman, olive-skinned, brown-eyed and dark-haired, stopped short, closing her eyes in trepidation before slowly turning.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," the man said sternly. He was middle-aged, with a close-cropped, graying haircut and a beard that matched. "I want you to patrol tonight."

The girl, Eponine, clenched her jaw. "I promised my brother I would be home tonight. He needs me. You have Musichetta, send her instead."

"Don't question me," he scolded. "I'm sending you."

When Eponine opened her mouth to protest, the man cut her off. "You are a vampire slayer, Jondrette. This is your job. This is your duty. You were chosen to protect the people of the world, and you will patrol tonight."

"One of those people I have to protect is my brother, Javert," she snapped. She loved the man, but he so frequently forgot that she was one of the rare slayers who had people at home to take care of. She had yet to lose everything, and she planned on keeping it that way. "I have a duty to him, too. And I promised him I would be there tonight. Send Musichetta instead."

Without waiting for his response, Eponine turned on her heel. She knew that Javert would probably punish her later for her insubordination, but she didn't care. Gavroche needed her.

*

Eponine was a vampire slayer. One of few slayers, in fact. Most of the women who became slayers died young.

It was not a fate she coveted.

In fact, she hated everything this life. But she had been chosen, as Javert constantly reminded her, by a power bigger than herself. And since he was her Guardian – the Guardian of all the slayers in this quadrant – and essentially her boss, it was he she answered to.

She was on the train, headed home to her brother. The dark world rushed by her, and she wondered how many vampires were out and active tonight.

She hated them with a burning passion. When they Turned, they kept their souls, but the bloodlust was so intense that they rarely heeded what little remained of their consciences. Eventually, most lost themselves in the Hunger or went insane from the guilt of what they did when their urges were unbearable. Most that she had met, however, loved killing. She had yet to meet a truly guilty vampire.

True to legend, they could not be in sunlight, and a stake to the heart or a clean swipe of the head from the shoulders would kill them immediately. Crosses, churches, hallowed ground – all unbearable to them. They couldn't even speak the name of God; that's how damned they were. They were vicious, evil creatures, and she wanted nothing more than to kill them all.

She hated being a killer, but she loved the fight, loved the moment when they lost. She would watch them victoriously, almost arrogantly, as they died in front of her. It gave her a rush, and afterwards, she would run through the streets, high on adrenaline, hungry and horny and happy.

She would find Montparnasse when she could, but otherwise she would grab a burger and indulge at least one of her urges until the high wore off and the real world crashed down on her again.

*

Several weeks later found Eponine back on patrol and deep in the throes of combat with a vampire. She could almost taste her victory when she felt, rather than saw, the presence of more of the loathsome bloodsuckers.

Panic bubbled up in her; she faltered and was knocked to the ground. She could feel blood trickling down from her brow, and her opponent, standing above her now, bared his teeth menacingly. She was surrounded

"Good job, little 'un," a grating woman's voice cooed.

Eponine felt her insides go cold. From her place on the ground, she stared up into the eyes of her mother.

She had hated her parents when they were alive, and had not been surprised when the police showed up one night, delivering the news of their deaths. She was, however, surprised when she saw them months later, their faces twisted as they sucked a woman dry.

But that was years ago, well before she was a slayer.

"Hello little Eponine," the creature that was once her mother sang.

Eponine pounced, fighting like a madwoman. But she was outnumbered; she only managed to slay the original vampire she was battling before she was repeatedly beat down… by her mother and her father and the rest of their gang.

Her father wrenched her head back by her hair, exposing her neck. This is it, she thought, fighting against those who were pinning her to the ground. I'm about to become another dead slayer.

The vampire broke her skin with his teeth, followed on the other side by her mother, and Eponine heard herself cry out. It all seemed to be happening from somewhere else; she knew and understood that she was dying, but she couldn't feel it, barely noticed it. Heaviness spread through her body, and her eyes began to get heavy.

Just before they closed, she became aware of a movement to her left. Her mother was ripped away from her neck.

Then everything went black.

*

When Eponine woke, she felt like she had been out drinking all night. Her body was heavy, her head was pounding, and she felt sick.

When her eyes adjusted to the daylight seeping in through a crack in the curtains, she looked around – turning her head slowly so as to prevent the exaggeration of her nausea and headache.

The room was simple, bare. There was some framed art on the gray walls, though her eyes were too weak to make out the pictures. A small flatscreen TV was on a small bookshelf that was packed with more books than DVDs, and even more books were piled on the dresser near the bed, as well as on the nightstand next to her. Those, she could make out: The World According to Garp, an anthology of the works of Sartre, Catch-22.

The bedspread was red, the sheets were white. Thick, black curtains were pulled together, though a ray of bright sunlight streamed through a crack.

Where was she?

Eponine wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she was several pages into The World According to Garp (whoever lived here had great taste in literature – this was one of her favorite books) before a gentle knock rapped on the door and it opened.

A man stepped in. Tall, curly blonde hair, casually dressed in dark jeans, a white v-neck t-shirt (that gave her a peek of just a little hair on his chest below a defined collarbone), and a black jacket. He was like a marble statue come to life. His eyes, she noticed, were impossibly blue, and his face was achingly handsome. A small bit of stubble covered his jaw and the top of his neck. She had no idea whatsoever who he was.

"How are you feeling?" the man asked. Eponine, in spite of herself and the weirdness of the situation, found that she liked his voice.

Instead of answering – Eponine hated answering direct questions, especially when she didn't know the inquirer – she countered, "Who the hell are you, and how did I get here?"

The man perched himself on the edge of the bed, purposefully staying as far from her as he could. Still, he smirked at her. "I saved your life last night, Slayer. You were outnumbered by the Thénardier Coven, and they would have killed you."

Eponine glared at him. "They took me by surprise," she grumbled. Then, "How did you know I'm a slayer?"

The man snorted. "You slayers wear your rank like a badge of honor. It's impossible not to know."

Eponine actually felt a little affronted, even though he had answered the question lightly.

He shrugged, apparently aware of the insult, and added, "Plus I was watching you."

"What?" she asked, dumfounded and staring at him.

The man grinned again. "I was following the Thénardier Coven, and so were you. You fell for their bait, you know. They were planning to ambush you. You should be more careful," he admonished.

Eponine raised her chin indignantly, but said nothing.

"Yeah, you would've died if it weren't for me," he continued.

He was actually fishing for a thank you. She couldn't believe it.

"Slayers are only women," she pointed out, ignoring his comment.

He ignored hers as well. "You're sleeping in my bed, you know. I saved your life, brought you back here at my own personal risk, nursed your wounds. A 'thank you' wouldn't be unwelcome," he said pointedly. It angered her that he seemed to find all of this so humorous.

She sniffed, realizing that he wouldn't talk about anything else unless she voiced her gratitude. "Thank you," she said tightly.

He smiled. Dear god that was a beautiful smile. "Why, you're welcome," he deadpanned.

"Now, who are you? Where am I?" she asked impatiently.

The man frowned. "You may stay as long as you need. At least, until you are well enough to make it home. Get some rest, and I'll bring you some food. You need your strength," he said, ignoring her questions. He stood, reaching the door in two short strides.

"Why won't you answer me?" she asked, before he could take his leave.

He stopped, hand on the doorknob, the door partially open. Then he shrugged, turning back towards her and seriously replying, "This is the last time you'll ever see me, so it doesn't matter." Then he was gone.

*

Montparnasse was a vampire.

What was worse, he now belonged to the Thénardier Coven. They were the most violent of the covens in this part of the world, and the most deadly. But also one of the biggest.

Javert had lost many a slayer trying to eradicate their ranks, their power.

Eponine was determined not to become one of them. Especially since she was the human daughter of the clan leaders.

But Montparnasse had been her last friend from her old life. He was in love with her, as a human, but he knew she was uninterested in him, even before she had become a slayer. Still, he had let her use him (not that he didn't console himself with some on the side, anyway – he was no virtuous man).

She felt guilty about how she had treated him now, though. He hadn't deserved to be used for sex. He was a good looking guy, and could've found someone who might have loved him back, even if he had some issues with alcohol and was kind of a klepto.

Eponine found that she was crying as she drove the stake into his heart. She hadn't noticed during their fight, as she was far too entranced by their dance to the death. But she would not lose.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him as he died.

This time, she felt neither hungry nor happy, and definitely was not horny.

It was Montparnasse that she had gone to for that reason. And here she was, responsible for his death, in so many more ways than just this one.

When she looked up, tears flowing freely from her eyes, she thought she saw a flash of blue eyes and blonde hair disappearing into the shadows, but she couldn't be sure.

*

Marius, Azelma, and Gavroche were the only good things in her life anymore.

She had met Marius not long after becoming a slayer, and had fallen in love with him almost immediately. Sometimes when she had gone to Montparnasse, it was because she wanted Marius, and she could close her eyes with the other man and pretend that he loved her too.

The thought caused a wave of guilt to flow through her body. The hurt of Montparnasse's death (by her hand) was still very close.

Marius was kind to her, though. He was a sweetheart, always stopping to chat and inquire after her and her sister and brother, always ensuring that she was uninjured and being safe on her patrols.

She hoped that he might someday fall for her too. Eponine felt less damaged and depressed and hopeless around him. Perhaps he would even be willing to put up with the uncertainty of her life, her future, for a few passionate years by her side.

But one evening he ran up to her, more excited and worked up than she had ever before seen him.

"'Ponine! Oh, 'Ponine, I've fallen in love," he told her dreamily, taking her hands in his and spinning her gaily.

For a fleeting moment, Eponine thought her meant her.

"She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her hair is long and so blonde, her eyes are beautiful, and my god she probably has a wonderful soul to match."

Eponine gave him a strained smile.

"Can you find her for me, 'Ponine? You know your way around, and you're good at finding people."

Before she could stop herself, Eponine heard herself agreeing to help him.

*

She found the blonde beauty, all right.

Her name was Cosette.

She was the daughter of Jean Valjean.

Jean Valjean was the patriarch of the Fauchelevent Coven.

That idiot Marius had gone and fallen for a vampire.

Jealousy and contempt bubbled up inside of Eponine. She didn't know what to do with herself. Or with Marius. And when she had told him what she had learned, he had dismissed it.

"Not all vampires are bad, 'Ponine," he insisted. Eponine wanted to punch him for his stupidity. He might as well have been suggesting that he take a leisurely swim in the ocean in the middle of a hurricane. "She's a good one, I just know it. Besides, the Fauchelevent Coven has always been fairly peaceful. They don't attack humans, not like the Thénardier Coven or the Tholomyes Coven or the others."

Eponine stormed out, going on a hunt.

She would kill something tonight. She could only hope that it was a vampire, not that idiot, love struck boy she had left in the bar.

A few hours later, Eponine was on her third kill (she had been on the offensive tonight, though it wasn't strictly protocol to hunt alone and without a secure plan that Javert knew).

That's when she saw him.

When the vampire woman was dead, Eponine spun on her heal, flicking her sweaty hair out of her eyes.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded.

The blonde man regarded her seriously. "You seem angrier tonight than usual."

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you stalking me?"

He gave this some consideration, before replying, "More like ensuring that you don't get yourself into any sticky situations again."

She took an involuntary step closer. His eyes were so blue. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You're not like the other slayers."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He thought for a moment. "They're all driven by something. You just go through the motions, but you're so talented. What's keeping you from rising to your full potential? You could be the best slayer alive, if you wanted. You could eradicate the entire Bloodluster population if only you tried."

Eponine regarded him incredulously. "I don't even know you, I'm not talking to you about my reasons for slaying!"

He was watching her closely, looking for something in his face. "Are you afraid of the good you can do?"

Her face darkened. "Look, bro, my reasons for slaying are my own, and are certainly none of your business. And, I will have you know, I'm not afraid of anything."

"Whatever you say," he scoffed.

Eponine shoved him back angrily; he grinned, lazily taking a step back to keep his balance. It only pissed her off more.

"You're intriguing, little slayer," he said, quirking a half-smile at her.

Without missing a beat, she replied, "And you're an annoying jackass, mystery asshole."

He laughed at that.

*

Eponine still did not know his name, but she began to enjoy his somewhat constant presence when she patrolled. Somehow, he always seemed to pop up in time to see her fight, and ended up staying with her until her patrol was finished just before dawn. Then they would go their separate ways.

"Don't you ever sleep?" she asked as they walked slowly together through the empty streets. No one was ever out at this time of night except for the slayers or the occasional other fighter. She often wondered what his specialty was.

"Don't you?" he countered.

Somehow he always kept things balanced between them. She wasn't sure whether he answered her questions with questions of his own because that's what she did or because he wanted to maintain a certain balance between them. She was fine with boundaries, but the more time she spent with him, the more curious she became. She liked this marble man, this beautiful boy that seemed to gleam with the light of the sun even at night. She wanted to be his friend. She enjoyed hearing about his true friends, the ones that knew him as more than the Marble Man, and she found relief in telling him about her own fucked up life.

Rather than taunting her by knowing her name (which she had never actually told him) while she did not know his, he mostly referred to her as "Slayer" or "Little Slayer." She couldn't decide whether the whole thing was creepy and whether or not she liked his nicknames, nor could she decide if, when he did call her by her name, the shiver that went down her spine was because it sounded so foreign on his tongue or if it was because she liked hearing her name on his lips.

They had become friends, somehow. She wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but she truly did appreciate that he had saved her life, and he hadn't left her alone since, for whatever reason, and she had grown to like his company.

He was driven. He talked a lot about his dreams of helping the people, saving them from these circumstances, finding a way to eradicate the violent covens and hopefully rehabilitate the rest.

Eponine was less in favor of rehabilitation, but her Marble Man insisted that not all covens were violent like Thénardier. He told her frequently that she was blinded by her hate for her parents and what they had become. When he said this, she told him to fuck off and mind his business, usually storming off and leaving him behind. And he usually let her go.

It irritated her to no end that he knew her so well – seemingly without even trying – when she knew nothing about him. Was she that easy to read? He always seemed to guess her emotions – which she had spent so many years learning to hide – without any effort at all. He was always telling her about her potential, about how her circumstances could improve if she only tried a bit harder. He knew her name, he knew her story, but she knew nothing about him. Not even his name.

So one night, she asked him. They had been friends now for a few months. He had watched her fight, had even stepped in a few times when she got a little too close to death for his comfort (though she loved the rush that just escaping death gave her).

"What's your name? You know so much about me, but I know nothing about you."

He was silent for a long moment, and Eponine was fully expecting him to change the subject or stay quiet until she felt humiliated enough by her prying to change it herself, just as he always did. But tonight:

"I'm Enjolras," he told her quietly.

She froze in shock, unable to keep walking. He had actually told her. Her Marble Man had a name, and he had finally given it to her.

After a tense moment, in which she stared at him with an unattractively open mouth and he stared back with trepidation and dark eyes, he stepped up to her. She couldn't read his face as he searched hers, slipping his hand into her own.

Eponine wasn't sure what he found in her face, but he must have been satisfied because he was suddenly turning away, tugging on her hand to pull her with him so they could resume their walk.

But she didn't move. Instead, she tested his name, whispering it into the slight wind. "Enjolras…."

He immediately turned when she said his name, cupping the side of her face with his hands and bringing his lips urgently to hers.

Eponine was waiting for him; her lips parted almost immediately against his, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed herself into him just as he pulled her closer with his free arm.

Enjolras deepened the kiss, meeting the tongue that had only moments ago held his name so tenderly. She shivered as his hand traveled down her rocky spine to rest at the slight valley that had formed at the small of her back.

He kissed her passionately, and she rose to meet the challenge, just as she did with her slaying. His kisses moved from her lips to her jaw, to her neck, to her collarbone. His hand preceded the actions of his lips, tracing their route before he made it. Now, his fingertips traveled down her chest, lips following as he unzipped the jacket she was wearing to reveal her cleavage.

Her hands were entwined in his hair and god she had forgotten how good this felt, and his fingertips and lips and tongue had just reached the top of her breasts when he cried out in pain, leaping away from her.

Eponine stared as a bit of smoke rose from his fingers, as though he had been on fire. He was staring at her with a torn, almost heartbroken, and pained expression.

She knew that she was staring back in horror. Her hand found the pendant buried in her cleavage – a silver cross. It was meant to protect her from her foe.

Anger like she had never before felt suddenly overtook her and she wanted nothing more than to kill him where he stood.

He just continued to stare.

"You're a fucking vampire!" she screamed at him. She could hear the hurt and anger and fear in her voice. What had she done?

"Eponine–."

"No!" she snapped, cutting him off. The way he had implored her with her name – without even needing to say anything else – had twisted her heart in her chest. "If you ever fucking come near me again I will stake you through the heart, and cut your head off, and cause you a lot of fucking pain as I do it!"

Enjolras listened to her scream, holding his burned hand in the palm of his uninjured one. Staring at her with almost heartbroken eyes.

Then he was gone.

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: strong language, very little fluff/smut? (it turns out I don’t know what I’m writing about at this point hahaha)  Rating: Mature Author's note:  I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

I must say, I wasn't expecting to upload this story at all. And here we are, in the middle of what I have already written. And I haven't even got to the ending... let's say I'm gonna torture you with this story till you'll have enough of it. 😋

Today's chapter is the longest so far, hope you'll enjoy it. The first time I'm not giving hints about what will happen in the next chapter. I hope you like mysteries!😘

~ 2600 words

------------------------

Chapter 11

The smell of sweat filled the room.

Another scream echoed between the walls when Lily went flying through the whole length of the gym, finally hitting the floor.

"Again," Kamilah's cold voice was repeating the same word over and over.

Amy buried her face in her hands. She was sitting on the floor against the mirror on the wall. They were in the private training hall which apparently, Kamilah had in her company building.

"Come on," Lily panted, barely standing on her feet. "How can you not even stumble a little?!"

Indeed, for this whole time, Kamilah was barely touchable. The only moments when Kamilah was within Lily's reach happened because the woman by herself let her to. There was no sweat on Kamilah's body, no heavy breathing coming out of her lungs. She kept her upright posture the whole time. The only thing that had been changing was the color of her eyes, which turned red every time Lily planned to attack.

"Because I'm focusing, unlike you," Kamilah growled, annoyed.

Lily steadied her body. It was easy to recognize that she was losing her temper. Pain and exhaustion were reaching their limits within her. After each strike, her wounds healed impossibly fast, which was the advantage of being a newly turned. But it has its cons too. Her body was regularly devastated and healed.

And even the healing process could hurt sometimes depending on the injury.

Lily looked at Kamilah one more time, searching for weak points in her defensive position. Finally, she attacked, using her vampire speed, which made everything go blurry before Amy's eyes.

And then one more time: sounds of loud breaths, punching, scream, and Lily was on the floor writhing in pain.

Amy stood up momentarily, wanting to help her friend. She had an impulse to do it whenever Lily fell on the floor. And like every time before, now too, Kamilah's red eyes stopped her from doing this. The woman wanted the newly turned vampire to handle herself without help.

"Again," Kamilah was always ready.

"No," Lily stood up, her cracked bones healed loudly, making her bend in pain. "We did it like a hundred times, no more," sweat all over her face.

Amy knew already how this would turn out. Kamilah's eyes were still red. Not because of the fight this time, but the rage that burned inside of her. There was not much that Amy could do in this situation, so she stayed silent and watched the women.

"Do you realize that you are in no position to argue?" Kamilah's voice sharp like it could cut through anything. "The meeting will begin in a few hours. That doesn't give us much time to improve your skills."

"Yeah, exactly!" Lily shouted. "What's the point of all of this?" she made a gesture showing the training hall.

"Degree of your training might be our only chance to convince the Council from giving you a death sentence," Kamilah frowned at how reckless Lily acted.

Since they had no time anymore on convincing members of the Council before the meeting, they had to come up with a new idea. Adrian reminded Kamilah that back in the days the Council used to make its decisions based on how well trained the newly turned vampire was.

Kamilah did great by training Lily. And the girl by herself made enormous progress. But still, Kamilah was afraid that it might not have been enough. And she needed to be sure that it would be, thinking of Adrian's fate.

"I know," Lily became upset. At this point, Amy had a remarkably hard time standing in one place. "Just give me a break, ok?"

"Fifteen minutes," Kamilah ordered.

Lily inhaled deeply and turned to the exit. Finally, Amy moved into her direction, wanting to comfort her. But, to her great astonishment, that was not what her friend needed at the time.

"Don't, seriously," Lily didn't even bother to look at her. "I wanna be alone right now."

Amy stopped heartbroken. They had known each other for very long. Amy had time to learn that the best she could do in such moments was to let her be. No matter how hard it was for her to resist the urge of hugging Lily and telling her that she did great, it would do more harm than good.

Finally, Amy composed herself and turned around to Kamilah, feeling angry at her.

The woman walked to the corner of the hall, where she left her things. She drank water from the bottle and took off her training gloves, throwing them to the opened bag.

"You didn't have to be so harsh," Amy's voice was full of complaint.

"Live won't be easy for her either," Kamilah turned to face the girl. "Besides, I wasn't harsh. I'm sure even you could have dealt with it."

Amy's eyes raised. She was surprised by Kamilah's statement, and looking at her made Amy believe in the woman's words even less.

Kamilah stood in front of her wearing a black, simple sports bra and leggings. Her hair back into a loose ponytail, letting some of the hair fell from behind her ears. Her darker complexion was shining from the effort she put in training Lily. Muscles in her body highlighted by the faint light that was reaching the corner. Amy looked into her eyes and swallowed nervously.

"Yeah," she chuckled. "I truly doubt that,"

Amy wanted to turn from Kamilah when she felt her hand grabbing Amy by the wrist swirling her around till she stood with her back against Kamilah's chest. The grip on Amy's wrist was still solid when Kamilah lowered her head to her neck, making Amy shiver.

"Why don't you let me prove you wrong?" a sweet whisper from Kamilah's mouth straight into the soft skin.

Amy barely stopped the moan from escaping her mouth when the other hand moved from her hip, up to her waist. Slowly getting under her shirt, like she was waiting for a reaction.

You're angry at her, remember? Amy told herself in thoughts and with difficulty broke free from Kamilah's grip, causing her smirk with satisfaction.

"All right, I'll try," Amy's breath quickened already. "I can't see how this is supposed to prove anything since your way much stronger and faster."

"I won't use my advantages," Kamilah ensured, taking the position. "Try to hit me."

Amy inhaled deeply, showing a lack of confidence. But despite doubts, she made a fist out of her right palm. And when she wanted to attack, hesitation hit her with doubled strength.

"This is ridiculous," Amy laughed nervously.

"Of course, it is when you're preparing yourself to..." Kamilah said ironically.

Then, Amy hit her, acting impulsively. She certainly caught the woman off guard, but still, Kamilah blocked her effortlessly. She made Amy stumble a little, but there was no pain after Kamilah's defending move.

"Not bad," Kamilah said honestly, "try again."

"Oh no, I know how it goes with your 'again'..." Amy made an impression of Kamilah quite adequately.

Amy wanted to say something more, but she sensed the attack coming before Kamilah even planned to do this. Thanks to that, Amy dodged to the side at the right time, making Kamilah lose full strength on the missed attack.

The woman turned around with an impressed expression on her face.

"How did you do that?" Kamilah couldn't hide how dazzled she was.

"Um..." Amy looked at her own hands.

Then, Kamilah attacked again, trying to prove her theory.

Amy blocked every attack in a similar way that Kamilah did previously. The girl wasn't impossibly strong or agile. She just knew where Kamilah would hit and with what force.

After a series of attacks, Kamilahs stopped, her breath increased.

"This is quite a discovery," this time, the woman took Amy's hand gently, trying to figure out how was it even possible for someone without training to achieve something like that.

She didn't use her vampire abilities, but still. Amy was not muscular, her arms were weak, and she could not even beat properly.

"I guess," Amy smiled, but it was weird for her too. "I'm just better at defending myself."

"That's for sure," Kamilah stopped examining Amy, but her hand was still resting on her arm.

They stood close for long seconds, looking into each other's eyes.

Then, they heard a throat clearing, which ruined the moment.

"I don't wanna interrupt or something," Lily stood in the entrance, smiling widely. Her mood went back to its normal state.

Amy blushed, stepping away from Kamilah. The woman looked at the clock hanging on the wall to see that twenty minutes had passed.

"You're late," Kamilah stated a fact.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Lily couldn't help but tease.

"Why don't you find out and try to fight me?" Kamilah crossed her arms, with a daring look in her eyes.

Lily's smile faded when she understood that she just made her own existence a lot harder.

***

It was the hour of the Council meeting. Amy was told to stay in Kamilah's office while the rest of them went to the conference room to meet with the others from the Council. Amy knew that one of them would be Priya, and she doubted if the woman would vote on Lily's side.

There was the Baron who was at least likable from the men of the Council. Kamilah was sure that they would have to make a deal with him to persuade him on voting- aye. But nothing was certain with this vampire.

She heard about Lester. That Adrian had an argument with him recently, so they didn't even count on his vote.

There was their new Clan leader, Jax. He would undoubtedly vote on Lily's side since he knew how it felt to be Clanless. He remembered constant fear of becoming feral too well.

The last one was Adam Vega, the least predictable. He appeared fine but always needed more power. His vote depended on how beneficial the whole situation would turn out for him.

***

Amy kept walking from desk to doors, with her arms crossed.

It has been nearly an hour since the meeting started. How long could it take? She was curious about how Lily performed her skills before the Council members. If they even wanted to test how well trained she was.

Finally, Adrian walked in, making Amy jump.

"And?" she couldn't wait anymore.

Adrian looked at her with his eyes full of tiredness.

"It's not looking good," he said honestly, "We need to convince Adam to vote on our side," he was deadly serious. "He wants to talk with you."

"What?" Amy was shocked. "Why me?"

"He is considering you a threat," Adrian didn't have to put this gently. "He wants to know how did you manage to convince me to turn Lily. Of course, you don't have to agree on this if you don't want to."

Amy straightened up, feeling ready.

"I do," she forced a confident smile, "we win this today."

Amy followed Adrian to the conference room. When they walked in, the first person that she saw was Kamilah sitting in the most important seat. She was looking through the window, frowning.

Lily was standing by the wall, she wasn't smiling like before. Amy wondered what had happened there in her absence because the tension in the air seemed almost touchable.

Kamilah could smell Amy's perfume, and that's what made her took her eyes off the city. She was surprised to see the girl standing in the room next to Adrian.

"Adrian," her voice cold, "I thought we made a decision."

Adrian gulped unsurely under Kamilah's gaze. He hated to disagree with her.

"I..." he started, but Amy interrupted.

"You wanted to talk with me," her eyes moved to Adam, who was sitting between Priya and Lester.

"I did," he smiled, "I wanted to meet this infamous human being."

He looked over Amy's body like he was worried that someone of her average height could be a threat to him. Amy fought the urge to correct her pose as she managed to hold his gaze.

Priya obviously recognized Amy even if nearly 4 months had passed since they met. The fashion designer laughed loudly and spoke with irony.

"So first you're making me fire my employee... and then, Adrian to change your friend into the vampire," she licked her lips hungrily. "You've got some nerve."

Amy stepped nervously. She knew that Priya's words were not working in the interest of this case. And as she predicted, Adam became even more suspicious toward her.

"How could someone owning such a weak body, convince the most powerful creature walking on Earth to do something against its will," Adam said, wondering.

Amy could sense that Kamilah was trying her best, not interrupting.

"I would say that I can be pretty convincing," Amy smiled sweetly, trying to buy herself some time to collect her thoughts.

"I can see this happening," he said, scratching his beard. "But still, what Adrian could have from saving your friend? What could you possibly give him?"

I'm a fucking Bloodkeeper, Amy's thoughts screamed. She wasn't sure if she should have ever trusted Adrian or Kamilah. But, one thing was clear, Adam was far away from gaining her appreciation.

"Listen to me, Vega," Amy spoke with a strength in her voice, making everyone in the room freeze. "I know that I'm in the way. The human who knows about vampires... it can not be convenient." Adam wanted to deny, but she kept going, "You would like to kill me to keep me quiet, but it's against the rules," she was looking directly into his eyes. "On the other hand, a human who knows about vampires is... also against the rules.'' Noone interrupted her. ''There is only one solution."

Amy made a pause, giving everyone a chance to rethink her words. She knew she was walking a fine line, but there was no way back.

Vega seemed to be shocked by Amy's confidence. Actually, everyone in the room was, even herself. Words just left her mouth like she was a completely different person.

"Then, Amy," Adam said, "what solution would you suggest?"

Exactly, what do you suggest, Amy thought. It's not like she wasn't prepared or anything. She felt more afraid now that it would not be enough.

"We make a deal," Amy gulped, partially losing her confidence. "You, vote aye, and I..." that wasn't smart, she knew that right now, "will owe you a favor."

Everyone in the room moved significantly after those words. Adam let out a whistle as he was considering Amy's offer.

"That's not an option," Kamilah stood up, losing control.

Lily wanted to say something, but Adrian stopped her, keeping her by the arm. He didn't want things to go any more complicated than they already had become.

"Why would I want your favor?" Adam asked, ignoring Kamilah's words.

"You said it yourself," Amy kept his gaze. "How could I control two different vampires, "she kept on repeating his words, changing her tone to more sarcastic. "The most powerful creatures walking on Earth, right?" her left eyebrow lifted for a moment.

Adam leaned back in his chair. He kept on scratching his beard.

In the room fell silence of anticipation.

"Aye, then," Adam's voice, loudly cutting through the silence.

Kamilah let out a breath after hearing this. She should feel happy and relieved because they won. Lily was saved from becoming feral. Adrian, free from punishment. But at what cost?

Right then, Amy realized that she started playing a remarkably dangerous game.

And she was just the beginner since they all had been playing in it for centuries.

Next chapter: 12

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