#what if we take the engine out and fucking rotate it so that it rocks side to side instead?since all the car guys are waxing poetic about

[clareguilty]

Din Djarin/reader | A/B/O, Biting, Possessiveness

This fic was written for Kinktober 2022! Let me know what you think <3

Alpha!Din Djarin/Omega!Reader (Gender neutral) Rating: Explicit | Heat/Rut cycles, Biting, too much star wars lore Word Count: ~3000

The Mandalorian bounty hunter usually pissed you off simply by existing -- but never before had you felt blinding rage every time you caught a glimpse of that fucking beskar.

Your ship. Your beautiful ship. You had called her The Scarab. A YV-560 light freighter with a beautiful bronze durasteel light-armor hull.

And then that fucking Mandalorian had sent a land speeder crashing into it at top speed.

The explosion was all you saw every time you closed your eyes.

You were drowning your sorrows in Novanian grog, fingers covered in soot from where you had spent hours digging through the smoking wreckage.

And he had been watching you. You knew because the gleam of his armor had never left the corner of your eye no matter how many drinks you finished.

The bartender was debating if your credits were worth having to carry your plastered ass out with the trash as you demanded another drink, and the mother fucker sat down in the seat next to you.

You swiveled in your seat to glare at him, trying to ignore the way the whole bar spun.

"I'm sorry about The Scarab," he said simply. You wanted to punch him in the helmet, but it wouldn't be worth the broken fingers.

"I want to kill you," you slurred.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, but you couldn't bring yourself to pay him any mind. When you didn't reach for your blaster he finally stepped away.

The Mando nodded. "That's fair. I would do the same if you damaged the Razor Crest."

"Then why the fuck are you sitting here." Your fingers itched for your knife, but you were so drunk you would probably just wind up hurting yourself.

"I feel responsible for your ship-"

"You ARE responsible for my ship, fuckass!" You were off your barstool before he could even finish, stumbling and bracing your hand on his breastplate so you didn't topple over.

"And I wanted to make you an offer to make up for it," he continued as if you hadn't even spoken.

"You can't afford to replace her," you scoffed. "I know what kind of bounties you've been bringing in lately."

"And I know about yours," he countered. "You could ride along with me until you get a new ship, and we could take better jobs that would pay more split between us than if we both worked alone."

"Anyone ever tell you you're too nice for this job?" You asked, head falling to the side.

"No." He placed a few credits on the bar beside your elbow. "I leave at sunrise. Replace whatever you can in the market and find me before then. Otherwise, I'm leaving you on this planet."

You pocketed the credits and threw a vulgar gesture at his back as he left. 

-

The worst part of it all -- aside from sharing a dumb shitty ship with the bastard that had destroyed your beautiful perfect ship -- was that Mando was right.

You worked really well together.

At first, you watched him constantly, not willing to let your guard down for a minute. That resulted in an uncanny ability to predict his every move after several days of memorizing all of his tells. This only helped you fight alongside one another.

The jobs were quick and the credits came easy. You took on more and more dangerous targets, bigger and bigger bounties. 

You would never be able to afford a new ship. The only way you were getting one was through theft. In the meantime, you were raking in the credits and biding your time for the perfect opportunity -- and the perfect ship. 

Until then you were crammed together under a small outcropping of rock on some bumfuck planet in a system you had never heard of before. The sound of a speeder engine grew near, and both of you stiffened. You had been camped out for hours, tracking the patrol schedule and guard rotations for the veritable fortress built into the stone face on the opposite side of the ravine. 

You waited for the speeder to pass, gliding over your hideout just as every patrol had before it.

The Crest was carefully hidden several clicks away, and you knew it would be one hell of a hike back once you managed to secure the bounty.

Some Imperial senator had decided to live out the rest of his days in a heavily fortified vacation home hundreds of parsecs from civilized space rather than answer for all of the crimes he had happily committed under the Empire, and you and Mando were more than happy to take an obscene amount of Republic credits in exchange for hauling him to Chandrila.

Unfortunately, that required the two of you to infiltrate after an entire cycle of recon, and so far it looked as though this guy had several squadrons of ex-Imperial troopers to guard him.

You scribbled another line of notes to indicate the timing of the patrol speeder and the number of guards visible through your scopes.

“Want something to eat?” Mando offered you a ration bar.

“I’m good, thanks.” You waved him off.

“You haven’t eaten since we landed,” he pointed out, and you scoffed at the concern in his voice.

Your appetite was gone, that was for sure. You had felt off since coming out of hyperspace, and the only way you were keeping your strength was the canteen of broth that you prayed would last you a few more hours.

The fever was getting worse, though. And you wouldn't be able to hide it from Mando much longer.

"I'm fine," you lied. "Just not hungry."

"Your temperature keeps climbing," he said, calling your bluff. "You're going to be delirious with fever by nightfall at this rate."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it," you snapped. "All we have in the medkit is bacta." It would do nothing to bring down your fever, and you mentally kicked yourself for not stocking up on useful supplies when you had the chance.

You began making a checklist of what you needed, only to realize exactly what was happening.

You gasped, glancing immediately out to the ravine and trying to calculate if you could make it back to the Razor Crest before it was too late.

"What is it?" Mando asked, following your gaze with a hand already on his blaster.

"My suppressants were on The Scarab." You said, still trying to determine if you could climb out of the ravine without being spotted by the patrol speeder.

"Suppressants?" Din asked.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, a Mandalorian wouldn't know about suppressants. He probably didn’t even have a mating cycle for all you knew. You, on the other hand, had always made sure to keep some on hand so you could control your heat. As a bounty hunter, you preferred to wait until you could take some time off and visit your home planet to go through the whole messy ordeal.

Except your suppressants had been on the ship the Mandalorian had blown up, and he didn’t have any with him on the Crest. You had completely forgotten about them in all of the chaos of the last few weeks, and now your heat was here and you were trapped in this damned ravine. With him.

"Does your helmet filter your air?" You asked.

He hesitated half a second before answering, trying to figure out what was going on. "No. It offers a little protection, but small particles still make it through."

"You're so fucked," you couldn't help your wry grin. "Have you ever been exposed to an omega in heat before?"

He made a small sound of realization, the severity of the situation settling in. "I haven't."

You weighed your options. “If I killed you now, I could throw your body into the ravine and make it through this alone. The crest would be all mine, too.”

Mando chuckled. “You wouldn’t win that fight, especially not with how weak you are now.”

The thought didn’t make you feel any better. You glanced out into the ravine, wondering if a jump would finish you off.

He followed your train of thought and reached for your arm. The feeling of his warm glove against your skin was too much, and you hissed and flattened yourself against the stone to put distance between you.

“What should I expect?” he asked. “We can make it through this together. Just tell me what I need to do.”

You rolled your eyes. “My pheromones are going to make it impossible for you to do anything. It’s getting worse, and you’re going to be just as bad as me in a few hours.”

Now that you were aware of what was happening, it was as though everything had amplified tenfold. Your skin was warm and sensitive, and the feeling you had mistaken for nausea was actually burning arousal. This tiny hollow of rock was too cramped, too cold, too exposed. Every minute that passed you could feel your head grow lighter, struggling to stay focused.

“Hey,” he called to you softly. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll watch over you.”

“You’re still too fucking nice,” you panted, a combination of panic and heat warring inside you. “Anyone else would have had their way with me and just left me here for the imps.”

Mando flinched. Didn’t like that. It was silent for a moment and then he reached for his helmet.

You screwed your eyes shut, knowing you weren’t supposed to see. None of this made any sense, but you weren’t about to violate his trust like that.

“You can look,” he said, and the sound of his voice without the modulator was so kind and soft that you had to bite back a whimper. “I need you to trust me.”

Wary, you cracked one eye open. He was staring at you with the most expressive brown eyes you had ever seen, shining and warm. His hair was plastered to his head from the helmet, and he ran his glove through it leaving it fluffy and wild.

You couldn’t not trust him.

Sighing, you scooted across the stone until you were sitting side by side. “This is going to be gross and humiliating.”

He chuckled. “I’ve dealt with my fair share of gross and humiliating.” His chest heaved with a sigh, and you watched his eyes widen and his skin flush. “ Oh. ��

It was your turn to laugh. “It’s worse without the helmet, isn’t it? I can feel myself slipping, and I’m sure I’ll be begging for you to fuck me before it even gets dark.”

“Yeah?” his voice was wheezy. “Uh… what do I do then?”

You shrugged. “Put me out of my misery? Heats pass more quickly if I mate with someone, then we can finish this job and get out of here.”

“Practical,” he noted.

You didn’t even bother responding. His glove had accidentally brushed your thigh and the touch had sent you reeling with want. It was impossible to disguise your reaction now that he knew what was happening.

“What if-” his voice was raspy and he cleared his throat to start over. “What if we started now?”

You stared at him, eyes dark with desire. He was probably waiting for you to respond, but you couldn’t even formulate a sentence with all of the thoughts rushing through your mind.

“Maybe it would be over more quickly? And then we could get the job done?”

“Right,” you nodded, trying to clear your head. “That’s… practical.”

“Exactly,” he murmured, but he hadn’t stopped staring at your lips.

The stillness left all at once.

You had never taken your pants off so quickly in your life, and Mando dragged you by the hips to the thin bedroll you had been using in shifts before hooking your knees over his shoulders. The backs of your legs were warm against the cool beskar of his pauldrons, and you had to bite your own arm to keep from moaning as his scruff tickled your skin. He tortured you by kissing all the way up to your knees before burying his face between your thighs. He grabbed your ass and lifted your hips to pull you in closer, and you thought you were going to die.

“Mando,” you gasped, digging your fingers into the rough canvas of the bedroll.

The fucker had the audacity to stop.

“My name is Din,” he said, looking up at you with slick-covered lips. “Probably should have told you that a long time ago.”

“Din,” you repeated. “Don’t fucking stop.”

He obeyed, licking and sucking experimentally until he found exactly what had you shaking and rocking against him. The pleasure was the answer your body had been searching for, and you let yourself sink into the wonderful feeling. You knew the taste of you was dragging Din into the same lustful spiral.

But you couldn’t find it in you to feel guilty. Not when his fingers were digging into the softness of your thighs and his tongue was circling your clit slowly and deliberately. Despite how desperate you were, he seemed intent to take his time. 

He didn’t have to take very much time at all, because you came quicker than you ever had during your heats alone. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of you coming over his lips, and you had to physically shove him out from between your thighs as the sensation became too much. Your heart was thudding heavy in your chest, every movement sloppy and uncoordinated as you tried to get your bearings.

Din was the least composed of the two of you. He had never been affected by an omega’s heat before, and his expression was far less controlled than when he first removed his helmet. You had barely recovered from your orgasm when he dove forward, pinning you beneath his entire weight with a hand over your mouth.

A patrol speeder was nearby.

You froze, panting against his glove as the sound of the engine grew louder and then steadily fainter. Din passed the moments by nosing at the junction of your neck and collarbone, kissing and licking and dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin. He was only driving himself deeper breathing in your scent like that. You knew that he was just as bad as you when his hips ground down against you, trying to find the right friction. Unfortunately, he was plated head to toe in beskar.

“Ow,” you hissed as his belt dug into your hips.

“Sorry,” he breathed. He pulled away to remove whatever he could, and you immediately missed the closeness. Luckily, he was back on you in moments, this time with his pants unfastened and his cock grinding against your entrance.

You shifted your hips just a bit, and he slipped inside. The stretch was perfect, so full and warm and exactly what your body had been craving for hours. Your reward was a curse and a hiss, followed by Din’s teeth sinking into the exact spot from before as he thrust into you with an uncoordinated jerk of his hips. You had to fight to stay quiet as he found exactly the right motion to make your vision go white. He was a fast learner and pulled your hips up to meet his so he could do it again and again and again.

It was still quiet -- too much noise would certainly catch the attention of the imps -- but you loved every hitch of Din’s breath, every quiet moan and curse as he fuck you. The only way he could keep from being too loud was to sink his teeth into your shoulder, or your collarbone, or busy his lips against your neck. You gently led his lips to yours, feeling his scruff against your palm and the motion of his jaw. Unable to resist, you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging gently. He pinned you in place after that, rutting into you harder and harder every time your fingers scratched gently at his scalp.

You placed a kiss to the skin just below his jaw, the only thing not covered. He shuddered, snatching your wrist and shoving your hand between your bodies with a desperate clumsiness. “I can’t- I’m not going to last,” he panted.

You understood immediately, sliding your hand the rest of the way to where he was inside you and bringing yourself off in a matter of seconds. Only after you finished, back arching and then finally sinking back onto the canvas, did he let himself follow.

His cock twitched, and you felt it. Warmth spread through you, filling you and satisfying that aching need. Din growled against your skin, silencing himself by biting into your shoulder. He pulled your hips onto his cock, sinking as deep as he could go and losing himself in how tight you were around him, how warm.

He caught himself before he collapsed onto you, saving you from being crushed beneath his armor.

It took a fair amount of adjusting, trying to get comfortable when he was still mostly armored, but you managed. The silence was strange after everything that had happened. Luckily, both of you were clear-headed after giving into the blinding impulses of your heat.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Din murmured, idly trailing his hands over your skin. You wanted to tell him to take the gloves off so you could feel the warmth of his fingers, but you weren’t sure how.

“Thanks for being trustworthy,” you murmured back, trying to play it off. You didn’t want to let him know just how much it meant.

“You know,” he spoke up again, surprisingly chatty. “Sometimes I hope you never find another ship.”

It took you off guard. The admission. You and Din had become closer, for sure, but you hadn’t thought he would grow to like you.

You realized the worse thing was that you had grown to like him.

“I don’t have to leave,” you offered. 

“I don’t want you to.” There was frustration in his voice, something he couldn’t figure out how to say.

“Then I’ll stay,” you promised.

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 03

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 9.2k [3/6]

notes: this will likely be my last update of this fic until the new year, because i have two (2!!!) other fics that i’m planning to post in december, including another jungoo one, so! please look forward to those, and enjoy this chapter in the meantime! 

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, me absolutely fucking up everything about korea’s geography probably, semi-public? fingering???, jungkook....... shall we say, rocks the boat, there is one (1) dick pic but no one’s complaining

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

Monday - 11:27am

Kim Taehyung added you to the group: the great escape!!!!!! 🏝🚗💨

[11:27am] Taehyung: let’s gooooooooooo!!

[11:27am] Jisoo: ???

[11:28am] Lisa: go where?

[11:28am] Taehyung: parks lake house this weekend! we’re going on vacation!

[11:28am] You: hold up tae, we haven’t even asked our parents if we can have the house yet

[11:29am] Chimchim: oh yeah lmao

[11:29am] Chimchim: u wanna go ask noona??

[11:29am] You: nope

[11:30am] Chimchim: ugh, fine

[11:30am] Chimchim: u big baby

[11: 31am] You: 🙄

[11: 37am] Chimchim: they said yes!

[11:38am] Taehyung: LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[11:38am] Minho: sweet 👍

[11:38am] Taemin: tight

[11:39am] Jungkook: dope

[11:40AM] Jisoo: you’re all idiots 🙄

Tuesday - 2:34pm

[2:34pm] Chimchim: i’ve secured the van

[2:34pm] Chimchim: for the trip i mean

[2:35pm] Taehyung: noice

[2:35pm] You: 10 people aren’t gonna fit in mom’s van, chim

[2:37pm] Jungkook: i can drive too

[2:37pm] Chimchim: 👍👍

[2:37pm] Chimchim: see? nothing to worry about

[2:38pm] Jungkook: yeah noona, nothing to worry about. nothing at all.

Wednesday - 9:49pm

[9:49pm] Taehyung: oh my god we need FOOD

[9:49pm] Lisa: you’re just realizing that now?

[9:50pm] Taehyung: shut up

[9:50pm] Taehyung: i have a cooler

[9:51pm] Lisa: and ice?

[9:51pm] Taehyung: ………… i will buy some ice

[9:52pm] You: there’s a grocery store on the way up that we always used to go to, we can stock up there

[9:52pm] Taehyung: 👍

[9:54pm] You: you also better remember to bring your own towels. and more than one change of clothing

[9:54pm] Taehyung: 👍👍

[9:55pm] Chimchim: yes, mom

///

The day of the trip finds you standing in the foyer, rifling through your purse to make sure you have all the essentials. Off in the distance, you can hear Jimin sprinting around frantically, catching the briefest glimpse of his ruffled blond hair before he disappears again into the depths of the house.

“Chim, I swear to god. Why didn’t you pack earlier?”

“I did!” your brother whines, poking his head out from the living room where his suitcase is lying wide open, belongings scattered in every direction. “It’s just that—oh, fuck. Do you have my toothbrush?”

“Why would I have your toothbrush?” you deadpan.

He ignores you, and not two seconds later, he lets out an excited shout. “Never mind! I found it!”

You sigh and rub your temples. The trip hasn’t even begun, yet you’re already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I’m going outside,” you call to your brother, who grunts in acknowledgement. Opening up the front door, you drag your suitcase out onto the sun-drenched porch, relishing the welcome breeze that caresses your cheeks and whispers through your hair.

The rare moment of peace is broken almost immediately by the rumble of a starting engine—the sound shuddery and wavering before it finally evens out into a steady, mechanical purr. It’s coming from nearby, and your gaze immediately travels to the neighboring driveway where a beat-up sedan sits, torn between exasperation and amusement when you see Jungkook waving at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m coming to pick you up!” he calls through the open window, and you hold back your laughter as he reverses out of his driveway, rolls ten feet down the street, and pulls into yours.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask once he’s parked.

“Of course it was,” he replies, hopping out to grab your suitcase. You watch as he pops the trunk and loads it inside, and blanch when you realize what that means.

“Wait a second. Am I riding with you?”

Some emotion flashes across his face, but he wipes it away before you can identify it. “Would that be so terrible?”

It’s been one week since Taehyung’s party, and Jisoo’s warning still rings loud and clear in your brain. Still, you feign nonchalance and tamp down the uptick in your heart rate, offering him a shrug. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

He grunts. An awkward silence settles over you as he adjusts your suitcase in the trunk beside his, and you distract yourself by fiddling with your purse strap until he slams the lid closed.

“So…” you start after a few seconds. “Are we picking anyone else up?”

“Yugyeom,” Jungkook replies, opening up the driver’s side door and climbing in. Hesitantly, you make your way over to the other side of the car, wondering if there’s any way you can avoid sitting in the passenger seat without looking like a total weirdo.

“Oh! Jungkook’s here already?” Jimin exits the house at last, lugging his suitcase and a smaller backpack. He shoves both into the backseat of your mother’s van before coming over, frowning when he sees you hovering near the trunk. “Why are you just standing there?”

You make a face at him. “We’re waiting for you, dumbass. Who’s riding with you?”

“Tae, Minho, and Taemin,” your brother replies. “Didn’t you see the group chat this morning?”

“I muted it days ago,” you admit. “You guys were annoying as hell.” Then another thought strikes you, your brain belatedly registering the names Jimin listed. “Wait, what about the girls? Aren’t they coming?”

Your brother rolls his eyes. “Jisoo’s working as a camp counselor this summer, and Lisa has other vacation plans. Maybe if you hadn’t muted the chat, you’d have known that.”

He has a point, though you aren’t about to admit that. You’re also wise enough not to inquire about the third member of the trio, remembering Jisoo’s revelation at the party. It’s no surprise that Chaeyoung isn’t joining you for the weekend—you’d want to avoid extended periods of time with your ex-boyfriend too. At the thought, your gaze reluctantly flits back over to the ex in question, who raises an expectant brow when he catches your eye.

“Ready?” he calls out the open window.

No, you want to say. But Jimin has already clambered into the van and slammed the door shut, and Jungkook’s car is blocking the van in the driveway so you suck in a deep breath and slide into the passenger seat beside your dark-haired neighbor.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Jungkook nods and throws the car into reverse. One hand splays across the wheel while the other comes up to rest on the back of your seat, and your breath hitches when he cranes around to check his blind spots, his face suddenly too close for comfort.

He’s playing with you, you tell yourself firmly, leaning back until your back’s pressed against the door and you can safely breathe again. Chaeyoung. Think about what he did to Chaeyoung.

“Hey, I made a roadtrip mix,” Jungkook pipes up all of a sudden. He grabs his phone from where it’s resting on the dashboard, tapping at the screen until the first strains of a melody filter through the car speakers. “It should last us the whole way.”

You perk up when you recognize the tune. “Oh! I love this song.”

Jungkook watches out of the corner of his eye as you bob your head to the beat, before smiling down at his lap. “Yeah. I know.”

///

Yugyeom lives on the other side of town, in a sprawling, winding neighborhood that sends your brain—and your phone’s GPS—into a complete and total tailspin. “Wait, wait—hang on. I think you missed a turn. You must have.”

Jungkook’s face crumples in confusion as he slows the car to a crawl, drawing a few irritated honks from the cars behind you. “There weren’t any streets back there, though.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, twisting in your seat to get a better look. “The directions said to take a right in… oh, fuck, hang on. We’re not even on a digitized road anymore, apparently.”

Jungkook heaves a sigh, but when you glance up at him, he’s wearing a grin. “Come on, Noona. You’re supposed to be my navigator. I’m depending on you.”

“I only know how to get us to the lake house, not Yugyeom’s,” you sniff defensively. “This is way beyond my pay grade.”

Jungkook chortles and reaches out, extending an open palm. “Can I see your phone for a sec?” You nod, handing it over, and he clicks his tongue as he turns it upside-down—rotating it a full three hundred and sixty degrees before returning it. “We might be lost,” he declares.

“Gee, you don’t say.”

He chuckles again. Picking up his own phone, he swipes a thumb across the screen before handing the unlocked device over. “Here, call Yugyeom. Put him on speaker, yeah?”

You hum in acknowledgement and scroll down in his contacts until you find the other boy’s name, clicking it open. A photo fills the screen as it rings—clearly a group photo from the way it’s cropped, zoomed in on Yugyeom and the ridiculous face he’s making.

“Is this from graduation?” you ask curiously.

Jungkook blinks and tears his gaze away from the windshield. “Huh?”

“Yugyeom’s contact photo,” you clarify, tilting the phone screen so he can see. “He’s got robes on.”

“Oh.” He looks away again, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. It’s lame, I know.”

You shake your head. “Don’t say that. I think it’s nice.”

Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to respond, but it’s impossible to miss the grin that crinkles his face and settles there. There’s a staticky hum as the line connects, and then Yugyeom’s voice is filling the vehicle, sounding as if he’s just rolled out of bed.

“Whaddaya want?”

“We can’t find your fucking house, man,” Jungkook says bluntly, turning onto a street that you’ve driven down at least three times by this point. “Where do you live?”

On the other end of the line, Yugyeom sighs. “Okay, okay. What street are you guys on?”

That gives Jungkook pause. “Uhh, Cedar Street? Oak Avenue? It has a tree name.”

“Neither of those streets exist, dude.”

“Birch Boulevard!” you exclaim. “We’re on Birch Boulevard. I saw the sign a while back.”

“Ah, okay. You’re close, then. Do you see a sign for Linden Lane?”

You glance around until you alight on a signpost. “Yeah.”

“Turn right onto it. Then take the first left, go past the cul-de-sac, and another left. Do not pass Go, and do not collect two-hundred dollars. I’m the fifth house on the right.”

He ends the call before you can ask him to repeat the directions, and you send Jungkook a helpless look. “Did you get all of that?”

“Besides the overused Monopoly joke?” Jungkook asks.. “Yeah, I got it. Right, left, left. Fifth house. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there.”

And true to his word, you arrive at the house three minutes later. Yugyeom is standing on the front step with rumpled hair and a duffel bag at his feet, and you snort when he throws open the car door and flops across the entirety of the backseat.

“Rough morning?”

“Stayed up late packing,” he says by way of explanation, his eyes already beginning to drift shut. Jungkook immediately turns the music up, and you giggle when Yugyeom shoots upright at the bassline that’s now shaking the entire vehicle. “I’m up, I’m up! Jeez, man.”

Jungkook just sends him an innocent grin in the rearview mirror. You turn the volume back down to a reasonable level as Yugyeom directs Jungkook onto the best route to take out of the neighborhood, and it isn’t long before you’re merging onto the highway that leads toward the coast.

You’re just beginning to get comfortable, staring out the window at the passing cityscape, when your leg vibrates with an incoming text notification. Glancing down, you see that Jungkook’s phone has slipped between your thigh and the seat, the screen lit with a new message.

[10:21am] Minho: gonna be at the store in 10

“Minho says they’ll be at the grocery store in ten minutes,” you relay to your companions. “We have a little longer to go. Probably another half hour or so.”

“We wouldn’t be so far behind if Yugyeom didn’t live in a fucking labyrinth,” Jungkook remarks, but a glance at the young man in the backseat reveals that he’s drifted off despite your earlier stunt. Rolling his eyes, he turns to you. “Can you text him back, Noona?”

You nod and hold out his phone so he can unlock it with his thumb. “Hey,” you say once you’ve hit send on the message. “Do you have a contact photo for me?”

Jungkook stiffens slightly, his gaze skittering between you and the road. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I do. But it’s nothing, really. It’s kinda lame. But you… you can look at it if you want.”

Curiosity piqued, you scroll down until you find your name, tapping on the image beside it. The photo is from several years ago, during a family trip to the lake house with the Jeons. You are no older than fifteen, your arm slung around a fourteen-year-old Jungkook as the two of you stand knee-deep in the lake, wearing swimsuits and bright smiles. In the background, you can just barely make out a blurry Jimin mid-splash.

“I remember this,” you murmur, zooming in on your smiling faces. “That was a fun summer.”

“Junghyun was grumpy the whole time,” Jungkook recalls with a laugh. “But we had a good time, didn’t we? We practically lived in the lake that entire week.”

“Or that old canoe.” You grin, taking one last look at the photo before locking his phone and handing it back to him. “Remember? We’d always row out too far, and our parents would scream for us to come back before we fell in and drowned.”

Jungkook snickers. “As if I’d ever let you drown. I’m a great swimmer.”

“Are you saying I’m not?”

He backpedals immediately, realizing his mistake. “Hey, don’t twist my words. I said nothing of the sort.”

“That’s what I thought.” Giggling, you turn to look out the window, propping your chin in your palm as you watch the scenery flash past. “And I want that photo, by the way. Send it to me?”

“As soon as we get to the store,” Jungkook promises. “Speaking of which, we’re getting close. Keep an eye out for the exit for me?”

“Deal.”

///

Jimin and the others are waiting in the parking lot when you arrive, perched on and around the van as they watch Jungkook expertly maneuver the car into a neighboring parking space. “Took you long enough,” your brother says once the engine is cut, hopping off the hood and landing lightly on both feet.

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” you snark as you join the others hovering near the grocery store entrance. Jimin makes a face at you, and you stick your tongue out in response. After a quick huddle—wherein you form a very haphazard game plan—everyone disperses. Jimin grabs a shopping cart and heads inside with Taehyung and Minho, the latter of whom is trying to clamber his way into the cart to hitch a ride.

Sighing, you grab a shopping cart of your own and scan the interior of the store for the produce section. They’ve rearranged the aisles since you were last here, but you quickly find what you’re looking for and begin picking your way over when Jungkook materializes at your side.

“So, what are you thinking for food?” he asks, nudging you away so he can push the cart in your stead.

You allow him to take over, gesturing toward your destination. “I know my brother,” you tell him dryly. “He’s going to buy meat and completely forget about everything else. And I don’t trust any of you to buy a single fruit or vegetable.”

“I like fruit and vegetables,” Jungkook defends.

“You like everything,” you correct, flashing him a teasing grin before leading him into the produce section.

Grocery shopping with Jungkook turns out to be surprisingly pleasant—comfortable, even. He proves adept at finding the ripest fruits and greenest vegetables, and when you ask him to find some apples, he trots off immediately and returns with a handful of sweet potatoes in addition to your requested fruit.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do with those?”

Jungkook feigns offense, slapping a hand to his heart. “That’s cold, Noona. Don’t you think I can cook?”

“I’ve never seen you cook in my life,” you respond. “How am I supposed to know if you can or not?”

“I can,” he promises. “And I’ll prove it too, if you let me.”

You get the feeling he’s not just talking about cooking anymore, but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer. Dropping the apples and potatoes into the cart, he flashes you a crooked little smile before turning toward a display of cabbages, leaving you to wonder at what exactly is going through his head.

///

It’s nearly one in the afternoon when you arrive at your family’s lake house. The last stretch of the drive takes you through the forest along a winding, narrow road, but Jungkook is a capable driver and you know the way well enough to warn him about any upcoming hairpin turns. Piling out of the car, the three of you make quick work of putting the food safely into the refrigerator. By the time you’re finished, Jimin and the others have arrived as well, lugging their belongings inside and setting them inside the entryway.

“So who’s sleeping where?” Taehyung asks, glancing around the house. It’s modestly sized, with a living area on one side and a combined dining room and kitchen on the other. Three bedrooms and a bathroom branch off of the hallway between them, ending in a back door that leads out to the lake. Through the window, you can see the water glimmering in the sunlight, hazy and golden.

“We’ll have to share,” Jimin says. “ If Noona takes one room, that leaves two bedrooms and the pullout couch for the rest of us.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests, drawing a chorus of groans.

“I always lose!” Jimin complains. “And Taemin cheats!”

“Do not!”

Laughing at the indignant expression on your brother’s face, you decide to leave them to it and head to your bedroom with your luggage in tow. The room is just as you remember it, with a bed tucked against one wall and a dresser on the opposite. There are three doors in total—one that you just entered through, and another that opens into a small closet. The third leads to a bathroom—shared with the bedroom on the other side of the wall that usually belongs to Jimin. Vaguely, you wonder who will be sleeping there tonight, before setting your suitcase on the bed and unzipping it.

“Fuck!”

You jump at the sudden shout, poking your head out into the hallway to see what’s causing all the commotion. Yugyeom is kneeling on the floor with his head down, a crestfallen Taemin standing beside him. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Minho look supremely pleased with themselves, and you see why when they grab their bags and practically skip to the master bedroom across the hall, collapsing onto the king-sized bed.

“Have fun on the couch, losers!” Jimin singsongs, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist and dragging him into their newly won bedroom on your side of the hallway. “Lake in fifteen minutes, so get changed! Last one there’s in charge of dinner!”

The door slams shut behind him, and you roll your eyes before turning back to your opened suitcase and pulling out a book. There’s a perfectly shaded spot beneath one of the trees along the water, and you fully intend to capitalize on the last few hours of daylight before the sun begins to set.

Minho is the only one outside when you exit the house, standing on the dock in a pair of green swim trunks. He waves at you cheerily before cannonballing into the lake, and you squeak as the resulting splash sends water splattering across the front of your shirt.

“Sorry!” he calls when he resurfaces, shaking his hair out like a wet dog.

You wave off his apology with a laugh, settling down onto the soft grass at the base of your chosen tree and opening up your book. The other boys trickle out of the house one by one, but you barely notice. It isn’t until a triumphant shout pierces the air that you finally glance up to see what’s causing all the commotion, your gaze immediately landing on Taehyung standing on the back steps of the house.

“Trust me,” he says, unbothered by his apparent tardiness. “You don’t want me to make dinner.”

Minho pulls a face and straightens up from where he’d been floating on his back. “You know, he kinda has a point there.”

Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung gives Jimin a smug smile, who scowls from where he’s sitting at the end of the dock, his bare feet dangling over the edge. “So what now? Do we have to play rock, paper, scissors again?”

“Nah, I’ll do it.”

Every head whips around to face Jungkook, yours included. He’s standing a short ways from where you’re sitting—his approach so quiet that you hadn’t even heard him arrive. The last time you checked, he’d been diving off the dock with Minho and Yugyeom, water pooling in his collarbones and dripping down the ridges of his taut abdomen each time he resurfaced.

Not that you’d been looking, of course.

“Really?” Jimin looks aghast at his best friend’s declaration. “You can cook?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief and plops down beside you, leaning back against the tree trunk. “Why does everyone in your family seem surprised by that?” he asks, his lip jutting out in a petulant frown. “Do I seem like someone who can’t cook?”

“Yes,” you tell him honestly, marking your page and letting the book fall shut. “Don’t take it personally, though. Men only learn how to cook in college when they have to start fending for themselves. And sometimes, not even then.”

The noise that leaves Jungkook’s mouth can best be described as disgruntled, but he doesn’t press any further. Instead, he peers over your shoulder to get a look at the cover of your book, mouthing the title to himself before glancing at you. “Haven’t I seen you reading this before?”

“Probably,” you admit. “It’s an old favorite.”

He hums, slouching back against the tree again, and when you look over, you see that both his eyes have fallen shut. With his mouth parted and his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, he looks years younger than he is—and so much more like the Jungkook you used to know.

“Tired?” you whisper.

“Long drive,” Jungkook whispers back, his head already beginning to loll. “Lemme sleep, Noona.”

Smiling to yourself, you return to your book and leave him to rest.

///

“So, what are you even planning to make?” Jimin asks, swinging his legs. He’s seated atop the kitchen counter, taking up the majority of what precious little space there is to begin with, and Jungkook sighs deeply as he’s forced to dodge around him yet again to peer into the refrigerator.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t think you even know yet,” Taemin pipes up from the doorway. The other boys are in the living room playing Mario Kart, but Taemin and Jimin have selflessly pulled themselves away from the game to help their friend in the kitchen—or so they say. As far as you’re concerned, they’ve been nothing but a nuisance thus far, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud.

“Ramen doesn’t count as making dinner,” Jimin points out snidely when Jungkook pauses too long next to the box of ramen packs. “Anyone can boil water. And you don’t get to add an egg and call it fancy, like you usually do.”

“My ramen is delicious, excuse you,” Jungkook retorts, pointing a spatula at him. “And that’s not even what I’m making, so fuck off.”

Jimin shrugs, but shuts his mouth nonetheless. You take the opportunity to throw some pork belly at him, the meat wrapped neatly in paper and tied off with twine. “Here,” you tell him. “You could at least make yourself useful and start grilling the meat.”

“Okay, mom,” your brother grumbles under his breath, hopping off the counter. He and Taemin head out to the back porch where the grill sits, and you join Jungkook at the stove where he’s staring thoughtfully at an empty pan.

“Try twisting the dial. I’ve heard that helps.”

Jungkook snaps out of his daze and turns to you. “Huh?”

“The stove. It won’t light itself, you know.”

Chuckling, Jungkook twists the dial as instructed, adding a drizzle of oil to the pan. As it heats up, he turns and selects a knife from the cutlery drawer. The sweet potatoes he’d insisted on purchasing are already washed and peeled, and you watch as he begins to slice them, your gaze automatically flitting down to his exposed forearms, his muscles flexing with every movement.

“Hey, Noona? Can you do me a favor?”

You blink, tearing your gaze from the branching veins lining his arms. “What?”

Jungkook, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice your distracted state. “Can you put the rice in the microwave?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Why?” you tease. “Are you still scared?”

“Of course not,” he retorts, but you don’t miss the wary look that flashes across his face when you plop the rice inside and go to punch in the cook time.

The remainder of the cooking goes smoothly. Jimin and Taemin return with the grilled meat, and Jungkook rebuffs your offer to set the table, leaving his position at the stove to lay plates and utensils down on the table himself. “I’m just about done, anyway,” he tells you, gesturing at the plate of glazed sweet potatoes on the counter. “Sit down and relax, Noona.”

“Fine,” you relent, taking a seat. Jimin takes the chair beside you, and Taemin plops down on his other side. Jungkook sits down just to your left once he’s finished laying out the food, and for a brief, insane moment, you almost think that he’s going to repeat what he’d done at his graduation dinner. But the dark-haired young man remains on his best behavior, keeping his hands to himself under the table, and you aren’t sure whether you’re grateful or disappointed.

The meal flies by in a flurry of laughter and conversation. Jungkook discovers that his glazed sweet potatoes have adhered to the plate, and sends everyone into hysterics when he promptly starts spinning it around like a steering wheel.

It’s a good night. And at the end of it, you go to bed warm and content, with a belly full of food and a smile on your face.

///

You awaken to the sound of chirping songbirds and gentle waves lapping at the shore the next morning, thoroughly rejuvenated after an undisturbed night’s sleep. Stretching your arms overhead, you yawn and bask in the comfort of your bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading to the bathroom, thankful that you don’t have to fight anyone for sink occupancy. The toilet seat is even down, which comes as a welcome surprise, all things considered.

Before long, you are back in your bedroom, rifling through the contents of your suitcase. Belatedly, you realize that you’ve packed only one swimsuit—and a bikini, at that. Cheeks warming, you pull the two pieces out, holding them up against your body. Has it always been this small? You don’t remember. All you know is that Jungkook has two fully functional eyes, and there’s no way that he won’t be looking at every inch of skin you choose to expose.

In the end, you settle on wearing the bikini beneath a flowy, floral kimono-style robe, tied at the waist to form a makeshift dress. The ensemble reaches just past your knees and is sheer enough to still show skin, but you no longer feel as self-conscious going out into the view of your companions and that’s a victory as far as you’re concerned. Checking your reflection one last time, you adjust your sash before opening the bedroom door and heading down the hall for some breakfast.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is empty when you walk in, tiptoeing past a still slumbering Taemin and Yugyeom on the pullout couch. You savor the quiet as you start up the old coffeemaker, pulling a mug from the cabinet and rinsing it out to get rid of any lingering dust. The weather app on your phone promises that it’ll be a clear, cloudless day, and a glance out the window confirms it. Silently, you debate whether or not to crack a window.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of Taehyung, his brown hair sticking up at all angles. Blearily, he trundles to the fridge and grabs the orange juice, seemingly two seconds away from chugging it straight from the carton before you clear your throat and push a clean glass toward him. You think you hear him mumble a thank you.

As the morning wears on, the others slowly begin to trickle in. Breakfast is a disorganized affair that leaves bread crumbs all over the counter, and nearly causes a fight when everyone seems to want their eggs cooked a different way.

“Look, if you wanted your egg soft-boiled, you should’ve made it yourself!” Jimin grouches to Taehyung, the t-shirt over his head muffling his words. Everyone else is already in the water, splashing about, but you’re seated on the end of the dock with your brother and Taehyung, who looks thoroughly unfazed behind his tinted sunglasses.

“Maybe if I knew how to soft boil an egg, I would have.”

“Google exists,” Jimin says, finally freeing himself from the shirt and tossing it aside.

Taehyung nods sagely. “Exactly. So why didn’t you use it?”

Jimin is beginning to look positively murderous, so when Minho swims over and taps your submerged ankle, you are beyond grateful for the distraction. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Are you gonna swim, or are you gonna sit onshore the whole time?” Minho asks, raking his wet bangs out of his eyes. “The water’s not even cold, so get in here.”

Pointedly, you wiggle your toes. “Feels pretty cold to me.”

“Okay, fine. It’s cold.” Minho grins. “But you get used to it.”

You sigh at his easy admission. “All men do is lie. How am I supposed to believe you?”

He raises a brow. “Do I need to pull you in and dunk you under?”

“I will kick you if you even try,” you tell him, standing up and shrugging off your robe. An audible hush falls as the gauzy material pools around your ankles—Jungkook stops wrestling with Yugyeom and trying to dunk him underwater, and Taemin pauses mid-splash, his hair drenched and dripping.

It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, letting loose a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, {Name}.”

Jimin grabs a shoe from the pile on the dock and chucks it at him, hard. “Dude, that’s my fucking sister!”

“Ow! What the fuck, man, that’s my shoe!”

“Quit ogling my sister!”

“I’m not!” Minho yells, just as Jimin chucks the other shoe and hits him square in the mouth. “Okay, I’m not anymore. Sorry, okay?”

Once he’s sufficiently sure that Jimin is done attacking him, Minho turns to you. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassure him. “Honestly, it was kinda good for my self-esteem. And I don’t need you defending my honor, or whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you add, glancing over at your disgruntled brother.

“Men are pigs,” Jimin sniffs. “I won’t apologize.”

You ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “I know, Chim. You’re right.” Then your smile turns mischievous. “I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do, either.”

And then you grab him by the arm and drag him into the lake, the cold water submerging you in an instant and stealing the breath out of your lungs. You’re both gasping by the time you resurface, blinking water out of your eyes, and you squeal when Jimin takes the opportunity to splash you again.

Hours pass—the sun rising higher overhead. Around noon, Taehyung disappears inside the house and returns with an assortment of snacks and sandwich fixings, ushering everyone over for an impromptu lunch on the dock. You dip your feet into the water as you munch on a bag of chips, and Jungkook plops down beside you with a juice box in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.

“Wanna go for a ride in the canoe after lunch?” he asks, jabbing a thumb back in the direction of the house. “I found it in the garage.”

You laugh. “Really? I thought for sure we got rid of that thing. Are you sure it hasn’t sprung a leak?”

Jungkook’s face crinkles into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?”

You grin back and raise your cup, the lemonade inside swishing around. “I’ll hang on to this, just in case I need to start bailing water out.”

Lunchtime winds down gradually. Jungkook polishes off his sandwich and trots off to fetch the canoe, waving off your offers to help before disappearing around the corner of the house. You watch him return a few minutes later from your seat on the end of the dock, resting your weight back on your hands and swirling your pruney toes in the water. He’s stripped off the loose white tee he’d donned during lunch, his golden skin cast in shadow by the canoe perched across his bare shoulders, and your gaze trails from his bulging biceps down to the ridges of his abdomen. The muscles flex with every step he takes, and you hastily take another sip of lemonade in an effort to combat the sudden dryness in your throat.

With a grunt, Jungkook comes to a stop at your elbow, heaving the boat into the water. The impact sends ripples across the lake and the butterflies in your belly into a frenzy, and you nearly fall off the dock when Jungkook touches your shoulder gently.

“Ready to go, Noona?”

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Jungkook holds the boat steady with one hand while offering you the other, and you gratefully grasp it as you step off the dock. The canoe rocks dangerously when Jungkook clambers in after you, but quickly steadies when he picks up an oar and jabs at the dock to push off into the lake. The glimmering expanse of blue water stretches before you, and you relax as you let your fingers dangle off the side of the boat, watching ripples form beneath your fingertips.

“I can help row,” you say after a few moments, casting a glance over at Jungkook. He’s settled into a rhythm now, the veins and tendons in his arm flexing with each movement, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting.

“You—” Jungkook says, fixing you with a playful stare, “—just enjoy the ride, yeah?”

Shaking your head, you smile and turn back around to admire the view. Sunlight reflects off the rippling water, lending a golden iridescence to the glittering blue depths. In the distance, the opposite shoreline rises up, crowned with rocky outcrops and majestic dark green pines.

With a start, you realize how far away you’ve gotten from the other boys. The shouts and laughter from the house are quickly fading into the background, and you nervously turn to look at Jungkook as he rows you even further.

“God, my dad would freak if he saw us right now,” you remark, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled. “I mean, we don’t even have life jackets. He’d lose his mind.”

Jungkook hums. He stops rowing, his hands stilling on the oars, and you’re just about to ask him what’s wrong when a warm hand glides up your thigh.

“You think you could maybe stop talking about your dad, princess?” Then he smirks. “Unless you’re into the whole daddy kink thing, because I’d be down to explore that at some point if you want—“

“Jungkook!” you hiss, scandalized.

“Yes?” the young man in question hums, his face the picture of innocence. It’s hard to muster up your vocabulary when he’s looking up at you with those wide doe eyes, but you somehow manage to prevail over your malfunctioning brain.

“We’re in public!” you whisper, glancing back at the shore where your brother and his friends have started an impromptu game of water polo.

Jungkook smirks crookedly at you. “Guess you better not scream too loud, then.”

And then, before you can open your mouth to protest—before you can even try to call his bluff—he’s slipped his hand into your bikini bottoms and found his way to your clit. Your entire body spasms when he presses into it experimentally, and the resulting snicker that escapes him is nothing short of infuriating.

“Careful,” he coos, laying his free hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing nonsensical circles into the soft skin. “Don’t wanna rock the boat, now.”

Then he returns his attention to your clit, pinching the nub just to watch you jolt in his grasp and soothing you with a gentle kiss to the knee afterward. Your skin warms beneath the plush of his lips, and the pleased smile that curves them is all the warning you get before he sheathes a single finger in your clenching core. “Jungkook—” you gasp, shoving uselessly at his bare shoulders, but you can’t keep the edge of desire out of your voice. You can’t hide the growing wetness between your legs either—wetness that he most certainly feels as he slips another finger inside, pumping into you with ease.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on the way you clench around him. “So pretty like this. So pretty, getting fucked by my fingers. I could do this all day.”

“We—we don’t have all day,” you whisper. The last syllable dissolves into a moan as Jungkook eases a third finger into your cunt, and you scrabble to ground yourself when he picks up his leisurely pace. One hand settles on the edge of the boat, your fingernails digging into the wood, while the other finds Jungkook’s bicep. His arm flexes beneath your grip with each snap of his wrist, and you keen when he crooks his fingers just right and sends stars skittering across your vision.

He knows that you’re getting close. You can tell from the growing furrow between his brows and the hard set of his jaw, and you can tell that he won’t stop until he gets you off. Concentration etches across his face, and you gasp when his thumb finds your clit again.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook—”

“That’s it,” he rasps, digging deeper and thumbing roughly across your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me.”

And you do. With one final flick of his wrist, Jungkook sends you hurtling over the edge that he’s so effortlessly built, a cresting wave of pleasure overtaking your body and spreading through your veins. Your leg kicks out instinctively, rocking the canoe dangerously in the water, but Jungkook catches you by the ankle with his free hand and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He shifts his weight until you’re steadied once more, and only then does he ease his fingers out of you, raising them to his mouth to lick them clean.

“Think we can sneak away so I can fuck you properly?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up at the lewd display, warming even more when his words register in your muddled brain. “Oh my god, Jungkook.”

“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying when I really get my hands on you,” Jungkook agrees. Flashing you a mischievous grin, he drops his hand over the edge of the boat, letting the turquoise water wash away any lingering fluids. “What do you think? The backseat of my car isn’t half bad…”

“I will literally push you into this lake,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide a disbelieving laugh. “Why are you such a perv?”

“You like it,” Jungkook defends immediately. “‘Sides,” he adds, casting a wary glance at the shore where Jimin and the others are still fully engrossed in their game, “I wanna kiss you while I fuck you. It’s not as good like this.”

At that, something dangerously close to affection blooms in your belly, winding its curious tendrils around your heart. Swallowing the feeling down, you pick up one of the oars instead, handing it over to him before hefting the other. “Come on,” you murmur. “They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah. Probably.”

And then he raises the oar you just handed him, lifting it until the paddle covers both of your faces, and boldly plants a firm kiss on your mouth.

“I’ll row us back,” he declares casually when he pulls away, as if he hasn’t just stolen all the oxygen from your lungs. As if your lips aren’t burning where he’s kissed you, your cheeks hot beneath his gentle exhalations. As if you aren’t positively thrumming with the desire to pull him back in, and maybe take him up on his offer to fuck you in the backseat of his beat-up sedan.

“Yeah,” you say instead, your voice hoarse. “Let’s go.”

///

What few remaining hours of daylight you have, you decide to spend inside. Jungkook gets roped into the water polo match as soon as the two of you return to shore, and you take the opportunity to slip into the house and clean yourself up. Safely locked away in the bathroom, you strip off your damp bikini bottoms and toss them in the sink. The top follows, and you give both a quick wash, doing your best to ignore the remaining slick from your orgasm that stubbornly coats the material.

Once everything is washed and hanging up to dry, you step into the shower. Warm water soaks your hair and slides down your back, and you tilt your head back to let the spray wash your worries away, relishing in the rare moment of peace and quiet.

By the time you’ve toweled off and gotten dressed, you can hear the boys beginning to traipse back into the house. From what you can make out, they’re making dinner plans, and you poke your head out curiously when Jimin mentions you by name.

“What are you saying about me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes accusingly at your brother.

Jimin whirls around, his cherubic face a perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing! I was just talking about your fried rice and how good it is…”

“You’re trying to get me to make you dinner,” you sigh. “I knew it.”

“No, we’ll help!” your brother promises. “I swear, as soon as I get out of the shower, I’ll chop all the vegetables.”

“Sure you will,” you snort, brushing past him and heading for the kitchen.

Much to your surprise, the kitchen is already occupied when you arrive. Jungkook and Yugyeom are at the counter—the former poised with a knife at the ready, about to slice into an onion. The latter is digging through the cabinets, and both turn at the sound of your footsteps.

“Hey,” Yugyeom says. “You probably know where the bottle opener is, right?”

You nod. “Left of the sink, second drawer down.” Then you turn your attention to Jungkook, peering curiously over his shoulder. “What’s the onion for?”

“Dinner,” he replies, flashing you a crooked little smile. “We’re making fried rice, aren’t we?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest and races to catch up, thumping erratically against your ribcage. It’s hard to ignore the warmth blossoming in your belly—near impossible to ignore the butterflies that have made a home there—but you somehow manage to school your expression into something passably neutral and busy yourself with the other vegetables on the counter. “I see Jimin got to you, too. Is the other cutting board clean?”

Jungkook nods, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the dish rack. “Washed it last night, yeah. It’s all yours, Noona.”

You hum and skirt around Yugyeom to grab the clean board and another knife. Chopping vegetables goes a lot faster with two people, and Yugyeom does his part by cracking open two bottles of beer and plunking one down next to each of you before opening a third for himself. “Hydrate,” he orders, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and taking a sip.

It doesn’t take long to finish making dinner. As promised, Jimin joins you as soon as he’s out of the shower, plucking the knife out of your hand and nudging you aside so he can finish cutting the vegetables. You fire up the stove and drizzle some oil into a pan, and smile when Taehyung brings you the container of leftover rice and a large serving bowl.

“You know what we should do?” Minho asks as you’re all sitting down to eat. Yugyeom’s opened more beers, and Jimin’s brought out the wine as well. Jungkook is spooning out fried rice for everyone, and you accept the bowl he hands you with a murmur of thanks before looking at Minho expectantly.

“What should we do?”

“Go to the beach,” he replies, tilting the remainder of his beer back into his mouth. “It’s only an hour away, isn’t it?”

“Closer to half an hour without traffic,” Jimin corrects. “But, yeah, we should go. That would be fun.”

By the time dinner is finished, you’ve finalized plans to drive down to the beach in the morning. “Remember, we’re leaving at ten,” you tell Jimin, elbowing him in the ribs. “That means you have to wake up before ten.”

“I know!” your brother whines, rubbing the spot where you elbowed him with a grimace. “Jeez, Noona. I’m good at waking up. It’s Jungkook and Tae you have to worry about.”

“Says the punk who takes hour-long showers,” you snark. “What are you gonna do when you have to pay your own water bills, huh?”

“Shower at your place,” he replies smugly. “You can’t turn me away. I’m your brother.”

“Please, that’s exactly why I can turn you away, you little mooch.”

“You love me!”

“Really? You wanna test that theory?”

The remainder of the evening passes in a blur of booze and board games, unearthed from the closet in the hall. Despite your collective agreement to go to bed early, it’s past midnight when you finally bid everyone goodnight and crawl underneath your covers. Shutting your eyes, you will your brain to settle and your limbs to relax, and you’re on the verge of drifting off when your phone suddenly buzzes. Lazily, you roll over and snatch the device off the nightstand, taking in the late hour before your eyes flit down to the new notification and go wide.

[1:02am] Jungkook: IMG_497

You freeze, thumb hovering just above the message. Even when your screen goes dark again, you can’t erase the sight of his name lighting up your phone, the attachment sitting there like a taunt. You shouldn’t open it. You can’t open it.

But curiosity gnaws at your belly, fraying the edges of your resolve. Slowly, you wake the screen, watching as Jungkook’s name fills it once more. You hesitate, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.

And then your phone buzzes again, several times in quick succession.

[1:04am] Jungkook: i miss you, noona

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss your pretty face

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss how tight your pussy felt around my fingers

You drop the device as if scorched. It takes several moments to gather your wits again, but when you do, pick up your phone, clicking on his name and scrolling up to the attachment. In the darkness of your bedroom, you watch with bated breath as it downloads.

“Fuck.”

The expletive slips past your lips, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Jungkook stares out at you from the photograph illuminating your screen, his eyes hooded and his lips curled into a devious smirk. He’s in the shared bathroom between your bedrooms, and even though it’s dark inside, the flash of his camera is just enough to illuminate the distinctive palm tree patterned shower curtain behind him.

But, you aren’t focused on that.

No, your focus is zeroed in on the foreground of the photo, where you can perfectly make out the head of Jungkook’s cock, sticky and leaking copiously from between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you repeat, louder this time.

And as if reading your mind, another text flashes onto your screen.

[1:07am] Jungkook: wish your pretty little pussy was stretched around my cock right now, princess

You aren’t sure what possesses you to send the response you do, but your thumbs are moving before the more rational side of your brain can catch up and stop you.

[1:07am] You: why don’t you come over and make it happen then?

You’ve only just hit send when the bathroom door swings open, revealing Jungkook standing there in nothing but sweatpants. His face is illuminated in the stark white light shining from his screen, his eyes dark and his smirk even darker. Every movement drips with intent, from the way his lips quirk upward to the way he saunters over to join you on your bed, dropping his phone somewhere amongst the rumpled sheets. The room goes dark.

And then…

“Hey, princess.”

His lips are at your ear, hot breath caressing your cheeks and sending shivers down the length of your spine. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he joins you, a hand finding your bare thigh before sliding up to grasp your hip. Only an oversized t-shirt and a thin pair of cotton panties shield you from his roving fingers, and you can tell from the pleased curve of his mouth that he isn’t going to let either stand in his way. One hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, dancing along your ribcage, and you let out a breathy gasp when he trails up and skims along the soft skin just below the swell of your breasts.

“Been thinking about you all night, you know,” Jungkook whispers, pushing up your shirt and peppering kisses along every inch of newly revealed flesh. “Been thinking about how pretty you looked, cumming around my fingers, and how much prettier you’d look cumming around my cock.”

Your shirt is long forgotten by this point, tugged overhead and thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Jungkook hauls you closer, slotting himself between your spread legs, and you shiver when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clothed clit, the material uncomfortably damp as it clings to your folds.

“Jungkook—” His name escapes you in an airy whisper. “Please.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the satisfied, self-assured tilt of his lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he croons, leaning down to press a kiss to your waiting mouth. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other remains between your legs, and you gasp sharply when he digs his thumb a little harder against your clit, circling the sensitive bud.

Jungkook seizes upon the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth with unrestrained ardor. Your panties are peeled away, the cottony material disappearing right alongside the pressure of his thumb, and the inadvertent whine that escapes you has him chuckling darkly in his throat.

“What is it, princess?” Jungkook rasps, his voice dipping several pitches. “You have to tell me what you want, remember?”

You clutch at his wrist weakly, tugging it back between your legs until he finally indulges you and resumes his lazy revolutions around your clit. “Want you,” you whisper. “Want you inside me.”

Jungkook lets out a pleased hum, rewarding you with a single finger that he slips into your sopping entrance, your juices aiding the smooth glide as he curls it up in search of the spot that’ll have you seeing stars. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree shakily. “But it looks like you are, so why don’t you let me help you out?”

Jungkook chuckles softly, his lips ghosting across the swell of your cheek. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”

Slowly, you reach down, letting your fingers graze the sizable bulge in his sweatpants. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? Me, stretched around your cock?”

A low groan escapes him when you give him a firm stroke, your fingers barely meeting around his length. “On your back,” he commands hoarsely, nudging you backward until you’re nestled into your pillows. Freeing his erection from the confines of his sweatpants, he settles comfortably between your spread legs, the mattress groaning in protest at the shift in weight.

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist. “Did you hear that?”

His face scrunches in confusion. “Hear what?” he asks, as if he’s never heard that particular string of words before. “Are you sure it wasn’t just—”

He stops mid-sentence, and you both hear it again—the unmistakable creaking of bedsprings from next door. “Shit!” you hiss, scrambling back on the mattress until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard. “Oh, god. That’s Jimin. He’s going to kill you if he finds you in here—”

On the other side of the wall, the door to the shared bathroom opens, the light flickering on and illuminating the crack beneath your door. You hear your brother cursing sleepily under his breath as the toilet lid clatters open, and nearly shove Jungkook off the bed in your haste to get him out of your room.

“You have to go,” you whisper frantically, herding him toward the door that leads out into the hall.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls his pants back over his hips, and you can practically see him willing his erection to go away. “What am I supposed to say if he asks?”

“I don’t know! Pretend you were going for a glass of water or something!”

With a final push, you shove him out of your bedroom, leaning against the door with a relieved sigh when it clicks shut behind him. You hear Jungkook shuffle off just as Jimin flushes, and cast a prayer up to any deities that may exist as you listen to him wash his hands. And it seems your prayers are answered, as quiet descends over the house once more. Off in the distance, you think you hear Minho snoring.

Letting out another sigh, you return to bed, crawling beneath the covers and getting comfortable. And when sleep finally takes you, you dream of Jeon Jungkook.

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - 24

Hello everyone! Here we are with chapter 24

It’s winter in Orynth and the guys have a busy day. Rowan and Lorcan enjoy their ride with the team and we also have some Elorcan gossip.

Rowan and Lorcan also talk and we discover something about Lyria...

Have fun!

The following morning Aelin woke up abruptly and missed the warm body at her side and curled under the duvet in a human burrito.

“Ro?” She called with just her head peeking from under her cover.

A moment later he sat down in bed offering her a cup of coffee.

“Cold.”

He leaned over to kiss her “it snowed last night. There’s over a metre of snow outside.”

“Lovely,” she protested “heaters fires, accidents, roof collapses due to snow, slips, more road accidents, pile ups.”

“Doom and gloom this early in the morning?”

She groaned and grabbed the coffee, sitting up with still the duvet all around her “I love snow and winter, but on my day off.” She took a sip of her coffee “house fires increase wildly. All those mantlepieces not properly attended. Electrical fires because too many appliances are connected to an outlet. And let’s not forget carbon monoxide related deaths. Such a magical time.”

“We’ll build a snowman when you are off shift.”

Then he offered her a plate full of scrambled eggs and bacon.

“You definitely know how to woo a woman.” She grabbed the plate and tucked in happily.

“You and Lorcan need to stay on the truck. No matter what’s going on outside.”

Rowan nodded “we will.” And he kissed her head. He was really looking forward to ride with the team.

An hour later they were walking across the yard in front of the station when Lorcan and Elide arrived as well. Together. Hand in hand.

Aelin tugged Rowan gently and he nodded.

“Arriving together?” Joked Aelin “naughty, naughty girl.”

Elide smiled “yes, I slept at Lorcan’s. Guilty.”

“Hey, I am just happy for you two.” 

The four walked into the station and while Elide and Aelin went to get changed, the two men went to the common room where some members of the team were already there.

“The posh boys are here.” Shouted Aedion as soon as they stepped in.

Rowan bowed “indeed we are.” Then he noticed two new women and went to introduce himself “Hi, I am Rowan.”

“This is Borte, our new truck candidate,” Aedion went to the woman’s side and made the introductions “he is the captain’s flying boy,” then he pointed at Lorcan “grumpy pants over here is Lorcan. He grunts a lot but does not bite. And he’s Elide’s.”

Rowan burst out laughing.

“This young lady here is Evangeline.” And he moved to the side of the blonde-haired woman “she is our paramedic in training. She is riding with Lys and Elide.”

Rowan greeted her back and she gave him a timid smile.

Aelin arrived a moment later and went to give a kiss on the cheek of her cousin “did you remove all the snow from the entrance all alone?”

“No, he had two minions.” Said Brullo sprawled on the sofa watching tv “the man is a tyrant.”

“My arms are useless.” Complained Ress.

Aelin patted both on the shoulders “well, better get ready for a busy day. From the pile of reports I have on my desk from second shift it looks like we are in for a treat.”

“Are truck and engine all stocked up and ready?”

Aedion nodded “I did a check and we are good.”

“Lys and Elide are doing a final check on the ambulance for supplies.”

In that instant dispatch alarm went off calling all units of east station on site for a structure fire.

“Here we go guys.” They all scrambled, wore their gear and reached the trucks.

“You two, in there and stay put, ok?”

The two men nodded.

The trucks left the station and Rowan felt a thrill run through his spine.

“What’s a structure fire?”

“Bad news,” joked Brullo at Rowan’s side.

“Or usually, what we call Monday.” Added Aelin never averting the eyes from the road.

Rowan stared at Nox driving and was impressed at the skill. He navigated busy intersections with confidence.

Aelin honked the horn a few times “move, you idiots.” The traffic peeled to the side and the engine resumed its run swiftly.

Once they arrived at the site Rowan gasped. The fire had enveloped the entire house.

“That is a structure fire,” said Aelin and the team got off truck and engine and Aelin started to give orders.

“Manon, Luca, venting the back.”

“Wes you are taking second floor with me. Aedion, Kyllian, Nox, you go to the first floor. Borte you go with them and stick to Aedion. Asterin, Ansel, you do ground floor. Brullo, Ren you are at the water lines. We need to be quick.”

Both Rowan and Lorcan were watching the scene speechless.

“I know she does this on a daily basis, but seeing her jumping into a building on fire is different than just imagining it.”

Dorian arrived on the scene a moment later and got an update from Brullo and Ren who were ready with the water lines.

“Chief, captain, you have two minutes to finish primary search and rescue then you all evacuate.” He looked up at the fire and flinched “Manon, how’s that venting going?”

“Venting now, sir.”

Temporary relief washed over him when he saw Nox run out with a woman in tow.

Lorcan’s eyes set on Elide, jumping in the woman’s rescue with Lysandra.

Rowan stared as more firefighters came out with people but never Aelin. He noticed Dorian staring at the fire nervously “Evacuate now.” He ordered over the radio. The chief must have noticed a change in the fire to call for abandoning the rescue. Rowan followed in fascination trying to remember some of the thing about fire he had read in Aelin’s books.

Aelin was walking low, almost crawling looking for people hiding below the smoke “fire department call out.”

“I am all clear, we need to go.” Said Wesley at her back.

Aelin had a last look around and was about to leave the room when she heard a voice “Wes, get out. I got this.”

“Cap, we need to go. The chief ordered us to evacuate.”

“Wes, get out.” She shouted and left, running to the locked door where she heard the voice coming from.

She gave her back to the door and kicked it open. Then she turned and saw a crib and inside there was a toddler. 

“Aelin, get the hell out now.” Dorian’s voice came over the radio. She picked up the boy and squeezed him in her fire jacket and held him close for protection.

“Come on… come on…” Rowan heard Dorian’s order and his heart was racing painfully. Why wasn’t she listening?

Then he saw it the flareup in her floor and shouted “Aelin, please…”

Aelin looked around the room and realised the flashover had cut off her only exit route. Then ran to the window and with her elbow she smashed the glass all while holding the infant.

“There!” shouted someone from a lower level.

“Ress, move the aerial to her.” 

Aelin leaned over and sat astride on the window ledge.

Aedion ran up the aerial and grabbed the toddler “I got him, get your arse in here.”

She was about to fully climb over when another flashover rocked the house and Aelin got thrown off balance and grabbed the ledge with her hands and hung there.

Aedion saw her and ran back up “give me a hand.” The man grabbed a hand and pulled her over on the aerial.

“You are fucking crazy.” He told her quietly.

She followed him down and she was on the street again.

“I said evacuate.” Shouted Dorian.

“Don’t.” She bit back “I saved that boy’s life.” 

“Sit.” Dorian ordered her. Aelin removed her mask and marched off to sit against the truck, rotating her shoulders to ease the pain.

Lysandra passed her a bottle of water “are you okay?”

Aelin nodded while drinking eagerly and watching while the rest of the team put the fire out.

Rowan opened the door of the engine and went to her “you are insane. And I think I almost lost it in there.”

“I am fine.” She told him quietly extending her hand to him.

He marched back in the engine, joining Lorcan.

“Do you still think women can’t do dangerous jobs?” He bit back. A part of him was a bit mad at Aelin. What she did had been insane. But he could not ignore the deep sense of pride he had in her. He was utterly in love with a super badass woman. He watched as the team slowly wrapped up their jobs. Dorian had called for a secondary search and they were getting out the burnt down house right now. Aelin still sitting on the front bumper of the truck grounded by Dorian.

He looked at her and smiled. She was covered in soot but she still looked stunning to him. Rowan turned his head and saw Lorcan still studying Elide while she went from victim to victim and checked them out with Lysandra.

“I think I am badly in love with Elide.” He said very, very quietly.

“You what?”

“You heard me, Whitethorn. Don’t make me say it twice.”

“Would it be so bad?” Asked Rowan, sitting beside him.

“I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Well, don’t.” In that instant the door opened and the team climbed back in. He took a seat behind Aelin and with his hand extended he brushed her cheek and she took his hand gently “did you enjoy the show?”

“It was literally terrifying.”

“Main to all units. Car accident on Southside. Multiple vehicles involved.”

“Copy that main, east station is en route. Dispatch an ambulance on site. Our one is on its way to Orynth general.” Replied Aelin over the radio.

“Copy that east. We are sending an ambulance to assist.”

“Punch it, Nox.”

“You two boys are in for a ride. A nice fire and a car pile-up. We just need a chemical spillage and most of the fun is complete.”

“Don’t jink it,” said Asterin from behind.

They drove for a short distance and at the site Rowan looked out of the window and saw a few cars all smashed against each other.

Aelin and the team got off engine and truck and she patted at his window and blew him a kiss and ran away.

Seeing her in action he suddenly realised why she ate so much.

“Luca, you come with me we’ll take the upturned car.” She shouted at the youngster “Aedion, take the red one with Ansel and Borte. Everyone spread and take the other cars. Remember fuel leaks.”

Luca grabbed his tools and started trying to pry open the door. 

Aelin kneeled down and checked the woman “I need a c-collar,” she screamed to the paramedics.

The woman’s head was bloodied, she checked the pulse through the cracked window and found it weak and she was not breathing.

Luca finally did manage to get the door open and together they pulled it away. Aelin sneaked into the front of the car and pulled the collar around the woman’s neck.

Lysandra and Elide were back from the hospital run and joined them ready and waiting for their patient.

“Aelin, you need to pull her out quickly.”

“I know,” snapped Aelin trying to cut the belt. Once the belt was free she realised the woman’s legs were stuck.

“Luca, I need spreaders. Right now.” She told him and the young man ran to the truck to grab the tool. He came back and with some acrobatics Aelin placed the tool in the area where the pedals were and started separating the metal. “As soon as she is free grab her.”

The metal slowly bent and freed the woman’s legs. “Go.” Luca took the woman and passed her in the care of the paramedics.

“Evangeline, grab an intubation kit and intubate the woman.”

The young woman nodded and Aelin stared with worry.

Once she was intubated Elide and Lysandra continued to do all possible to revive the woman. Aelin and Luca towered over them ready to help if needed.

She saw them use a defibrillator.

“Pushing epi.” She heard Elide say and Aelin knew from her emergency medical training that it was bad.

She paced nervously running a hand in her dirty hair. She took stock of the situation and noticed a few people out of the cars and being helped out and looked after by the other ambulances. Good at least the others did manage to save someone.

Aelin heard the long continuous beep of a flat line and realised the woman did not make it. Then she heard Lysandra calling it.

“Sorry, Aelin.”

Luca was at her side in an instant “cap, we did all we could.”

“Well, it was not enough.” She snapped while in her head she started going through all she could have done differently.

“Aelin,” Lysandra stood to face her friend “there was very little you could have done differently.” Knowing exactly where her friend’s mind had wandered off “She was in bad shape already. We did all we could, as Luca said.”

Dorian joined them a moment later “Aelin, come.”

They moved to the side “Get it out of the system quickly. Yes, you lost one person and it hurts, but I kept an eye on you and you haven’t done anything that I wouldn’t have done myself. You tried. But that was the car in worst shape.” He patted her shoulder “think about the boy you saved from the fire. Think about the second chance you gave him.”

Aelin nodded and walked away and joined her team in packing up all the gear once they were done. 

Once she climbed back on the engine she looked at Rowan and his expression was full of worry for her. Gods, she just wanted to melt in his arms for ten minutes and shut down everything. She felt his hand sneak in the space between seat and door and try to grab hers. He didn’t say anything. He just held her hand.

They arrived back at the station not long after.

Aelin got off the engine and started removing her turnout gear.

“Aedion, take Borte and show her the checks to do to the engines after a call. I’ll take the equipment. Before heading to their duties they all ran to the bathrooms to remove the layers of soot and dirt from the two calls.

Once everyone had stored their gear Aelin hid in the room for equipment and began doing her checks and clean it. She needed some time alone.

Ten minutes later a head of silver hair peeked through the open door “hey,” he said quietly.

“Come in,” she said to him and Rowan took a step in and sat on the bench at her side.

“I am in awe.” His knuckles brushed her cheek “I had an idea of what you guys did, but seeing it for real. I was amazed. But also utterly terrified.”

“I could not help that woman, though.” She said sadly, placing a mask on the ground “she died.”

“Fireheart, I heard what Dorian said and I agree. I am sure you did all you could. Her car looked in pretty banged up state from my corner. If she survived it would have been a big damn miracle.”

“I know,” she let out a loose breath “I know.” Her head heavy against a jacket “it’s just not easy. I knew she was in bad conditions but I still wanted to save her.”

“Come here.” He pulled her to him “I have a piece of gossip for you.”

Her head whipped to him and he saw a smile finally appear.

“Lorcan admitted to me he thinks he is badly in love with Elide.”

Aelin’s hand went to her mouth in surprise “this is big.”

Rowan nodded “I don’t think he told her yet. He is just worried he will mess it up.”

“He’d better not. Elide has strong feelings for him as well. He breaks her heart and I will have his head.”

He nodded “I have been keeping an eye on him.”

“Good, now go back to the others and let me finish.”

He leaned forward and kissed her deeply. Aelin dropped what she had in her hands and once free they grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer to her and then on top of her as she leaned back on the bench. He caged her head between his arms and was about to kiss her again when dispatch alarm went off.

“Really?” She stood quickly and kisses him “stay at the station.” He nodded and she ran out. And he walked out slowly and joined Lorcan and both men stared at the vehicles leave the floor.

“Are they alway this busy? They have been back for forty minutes.”

Rowan sighed “Aelin mentioned this morning that with snow, things tend to get busier.” Then he had an idea “ever built a snowman?”

Lorcan rolled his eyes “yes, I was a kid once too, remember?”

“Get your coat back on and come with me.”

Once both men were ready with warm clothes Rowan walked outside to the front of the fire station near the entrance “Here.” Said Rowan pointing at the spot.

“Here what?”

“The snowman. To cheer them up. They had a stressful morning and probably it will not slow down.”

Lorcan tied his hair and started rolling the snow to form a ball for the body. Rowan smiled and joined him, preparing a second one. Once Lorcan had the bottom part ready, Rowan lifted the second one on top and both started fixing the body to give it an even shape. Then Rowan created a smaller ball for the head. Once done he lifted the final piece and took a step back to look at their work “not too bad.”

Lorcan removed his scarf and placed it around the snowman’s neck. Then Rowan ran back inside in Aelin’s office and grabbed the plastic fake firefighter hat he had won the day they did drills, got back and placed it on the snowman. Finally they gave him eyes and a mouth and Lorcan added some wooden sticks at the side so that they looked like arms.

Rowan looked around and then spotted something more he could add. He ran to a corner and picked up an abandoned tool.

“What is that?”

Rowan lifted the tool “I think Aelin called it an Halligan bar. The guys use it to pry open things.” He explained placing it near the sticky hand of the snowman “now he looks perfect.”

Once they were done the two men went back into the station and decided to prepare a meal for them “they must be famished.”

Lorcan nodded “I agree. Let’s prepare a nice meal.”

They were halfway through making lunch when they heard the trucks finally return and both ran outside, and only truck and engine appeared. The ambulance must have gone to the hospital.

Rowan’s eyes landed on a wet Aelin, her body wrapped in a few thick blankets. He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her frame. She was freezing and he felt her shiver and her teeth clattering “What happened?” His hands brushed her back quickly.

“We had two calls. Another fire and then a kid who fell in the water while skating on the frozen lake in a park. Aelin grabbed the kid but fell in when the rope dropped.” Explained Aedion.

As on pure instinct Rowan got into action. He took Aelin and dragged her to her quarters “we need to get you out of those wet clothes.”

She stood in front of him shaking and hugging the blankets against her body. Slowly he helped her remove all the layers until she was stark naked in front of him.

“Any..” teeth clattering “any excuse to get me naked.” Her tone was deep with tiredness.

He chuckled and went to the shower block to grab some towels and once back he begun drying her up.

“I’ll be back in a second.” Rowan disappeared once more and this time went to Aedion “do you have any spare clothes for Aelin?”

The man nodded and he was back a few minutes later with a pile of dry clothes in his hands “how is she doing?”

“Trying to warm her up.” He was about to move away when he turned to the man “what the heck happened?”

“Aelin wanted Borte to practice with the ropes in a real situation so she had Borte drop her in the ice crack to help the boy. The girl lost hold of the rope. It happened so fast that I was not quick enough to grab her,” he explained “She kept diving in in the cold water until she grabbed the boy. Only once he was safe she let us help her out.”

“You should have taken her to the hospital.” Rowan bit back annoyed.

“Don’t you think we tried?” Aedion matched him in tone “she is stubborn. She refused treatment.” 

Rowan growled and grabbed the clothes “thanks for this.” And ran back to her quarters.

Aelin was sitting on her bed, the blankets still wrapped around her.

“I have dry clothes for you.”

“I have spare bra and knickers in my locker. The combination is your birthday.” Her speech was slow and he could feel her exhaustion.

Rowan gave her a smirk and rushed out once again and returning not long after with the garments.

“My underwear doesn’t scare you anymore?”

Rowan chuckled “we live together and I have seen enough of your daring lingerie not to be affected.”

Aelin slowly dressed up again and when she was done Rowan pulled back the blankets and pushed her legs under and finished drying her hair “now you relax, I’ll see if I can get some hot food for you.” A gentle kiss on her head.

Rowan then went to Lorcan and asked him to make something hot for her. She was still shivering hard and he was getting very nervous.

He was back in her quarters when Lysandra popped in with a bag in her hands “do you mind if I check on her?”

He stood “no, please.”

Lysandra took her temperature “still 33 degrees. It was 32 when we took her out.” She grabbed the transparent bag at her side “this is an IV of warm saline, it will help her and should bring her temperature up.”

“Lorcan is making something hot for her.”

Lysandra nodded “have water at her side as well.” And Rowan nodded “it might take a while before her temperature goes up again and she will be exhausted.”

The woman then hanged the IV bag against the edge of her closet and left.

Dispatch alarm went off again and Aelin made a move but Rowan stopped her “you are not going anywhere.”

“I-I am the cap-captain. I have to.” She was still shivering from the cold.

He ran to the apparatus floor “Aedion, Aelin is not coming. She is still cold.”

“I was not expecting her to. I told Dorian she is out for today.”

“Thank you.”

The man nodded.

“Stay safe, all of you.”

Lorcan met him halfway “I am making soup.”

Rowan patted his arm “thank you.”

“Lorcan is making you soup.” He announced as he got back to her “we’ll go home as soon as you are feeling warmer.”

“I am fine.”

“No,” he brushed his hand through her hair “you are still shivery. You eat something hot. Warm up and then we’ll see.”

“I should be with the guys.”

Rowan shook his head “Aedion alerted Dorian and told him you are out for the day.”

Aelin was about to reply but Lorcan joined them carrying a bowl with hot soup.

“How is our fearless leader doing?” He asked while placing the bowl on her night stand with a spoon on the side.

“Still feeling cold.”

“I hope you’ll like the soup. I made it the other night for Elide and she loved it.”

“Thank you, Lorcan.”

He gave her a quick salute and a tight smile and disappeared.

“Are we sure he is the same man?”

Rowan shrugged and grabbed the bowl but Aelin snatched it from his hands “don’t you dare and try to spoon feed me. Stop fussing, captain.”

“Fine.” He stood “I’ll leave you to it.” And left.

He reached Lorcan who was sitting on the sofa watching tv.

“You okay?” He sat beside him.

“Yeah. I put the food away until they are back.” He sighed “I thought we had it bad in our last mission but the guys don’t seem to have too much downtime either.”

“Yeah, today is pretty bad. I saw them on slow days when they have even time to play games. Today has been hell.”

“How’s Aelin doing?”

Rowan’s head snapped in his direction “this is the first time you finally call her with her name. It’s always the captain or your woman.”

Lorcan cleared his voice almost embarrassed “I am starting to like her.”

“Good because I am planning on keeping her around.”

“At least she is not whiny.”

Rowan sighed. He knew Lorcan never liked Lyria. He was the only person who had been the most vocal about his disagreement in him marrying the woman. His other friends were not her fans but had shown him support when he proposed and after. Lorcan had always made his opinion clear. He had told him in his face that he was marrying the wrong woman.

“Well, at least you approve of this one.”

Lorcan snorted “damn man, there is no comparison. Lyria used the marriage to try and change you into her puppet and when it did not work she lost it and became this jealous bitch.” He stood and paced “she came to me and begged me to invent an excuse to fire you.”

“I did not know.”

“I never told you because for some crazy reason you seemed attached to her. Truth is… the woman was toxic.” He stopped in front of Rowan “Essar told me she saw her a few times in a club with another man, while we were away.”

Rowan leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes “that I suspected, just as much as I suspected that the baby was not mine.” He confessed “before we deployed for the mission in which I had to go home for her funeral I found the divorce paper she had ready.”

“And you still grieved.”

“She was my wife.” He almost shouted “yes, she was not perfect but I loved her.”

“Loved her as much as you love Aelin? Because in all the time I have known you I have never seen you with a woman the way you are with Aelin.”

“No, not even close.”

“Would you marry her?”

Rowan only indulged on that thought once. It was far too early. They had just started to actually build their relationship. He was happy where they were right now.

“Not while I am still on active duty. I promised myself that next time I get married I will not be an absent husband again. And I want a family one day. I just need to hold on for a bit. Less than five years and the prison is over.”

“I can make a few calls and get you a full time position at pilot school. I know you have been having issue with the force recently but your skills are vital.”

Rowan shook his head “Thanks but no. Once I retire I will be out forever and I have another path in mind. I want to train to become a paramedic and work in a firehouse.”

“Well, I guess your time as nurse Whitethorn will come handy on your application.”

Rowan flipped him off and patted his leg “let me go and check on Aelin.”

He left Lorcan and joined Aelin and found her wrapped under the blankets with just her face peeking out. Her phone against the head of the bed. He smiled when he saw the bowl completely empty. Good.

“Hey you,” he sat her side and brushed her head “how are you feeling?”

“Not great and I can’t seem to shake the cold from my bones and I feel so tired.”

He lay down at her side and tucked her against his body and looked at the saline bag “the IV is almost finished.”

“You need skin to skin to keep me warm.”

He flipped her nose “we can’t do that here at the fire station so this is it for now.”

“I am going to write a review on the sexy nurse website that sent you and complain that I am not satisfied with the service.”

“Menace.”

“Are the guys still out?”

Rowan nodded “Lorcan prepared lunch for everyone and I hope they will have time to sit down and eat when they come back.”

Rowan nodded “what were you watching?” He asked as he noticed her phone playing a movie.

“I don’t know a random fantasy series Netflix recommended. I wasn’t paying much attention.”

He bent his legs and placed the phone against them and put an arm around her shoulder “well, let’s watch trash tv together.” He made sure she was all tucked in and cozy.

Eventually he heard the squad come back in the station, turned his head and noticed Aelin napping. He stood and joined the team at the front. They all looked exhausted and he hoped Lorcan’s meal would be enough to cheer them up.

“I saw our new frozen candidate.” Joked Brullo while shedding his turnout gear.

“Lorcan and I thought it would cheer you up guys.”

The tall dark-haired man joined them as well “I have loads of food ready. Come and eat before you get called again.”

The team cheered and scrambled into the kitchen. Aedion joined Rowan “how is she doing?”

“Warming up but tired. She is sleeping now.”

“How was the last call?” Asked Lorcan curious.

“Drunken driver. Crashed into a car with a family. The father is a goner and one of the kids is in bad shape.” Explained Manon reining in her rage.

Lorcan cursed savagely “the bastard.”

The conversation died after that, the topic too hard to even add anything else.

“Thank you for lunch, both of you,” said Elide, giving a smile to both Lorcan and Rowan.

“Honestly, it was all Lorcan, I was busy playing nurse.” Added Rowan.

In that moment Dorian popped in.

“Chief!” Shouted Ren “come have food.”

The chief sat down and joined the team “how are you all doing? You guys had a long day.”

No one said much “I went at the hospital and checked on the last family you saved from the drunken driver. The doctors are confident the boy will make a full recovery with time.”

Everyone sighed in relief.

He took a bite “how is Aelin doing?”

“She is in her bunk, sleeping under a pile of blankets. She is very tired and cold.” Rowan explained.

“Is she warming up now?”asked Lysandra “she was showing some very early stages of hypothermia. Her temperature was around 32 degree when we pulled her out.”

“She did not accept to be taken to the hospital.” Pointed out Aedion with a bit of annoyance in his voice.

“I heard that.” Continued Dorian “we should have pushed her. Aelin can be stubborn.”

 A few snorts echoed in the room.

In that instant Aelin walked into the room with her hoodie on and a blanket around her.

“Hey,” Rowan stood and went to her “what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to be alone.” And she sat heavily in Rowan’s lap, never letting the blanket go.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” she croaked.

Everyone laughed and Rowan gave her his seat and placed a plate in front of her. Lysandra sneaked in and took her temperature very quickly “35.5 you are almost back to normal. Do you still feel cold?”

Aelin took a bite “I still don’t feel great.”

“That is normal. Your body went through a lot of shock.” Explained Elide.

“Captain Whitethorn, make sure she takes tomorrow off. This is an order.” Said Dorian staring at the other man. 

“I am getting used to play nurse.”

Lorcan snorted “you can ask Lysandra or Elide to give you a ride in the ambulance, paramedic Whitethorn.” Rowan glared at him. That was something he had confessed only to Aelin and Lorcan.

“What is he talking about?” Asked Brullo curiously.

“I…” Rowan sighed “when I retire from the TAF in less than five years I want to retrain as a paramedic and work in a firehouse.”

“That is awesome,” shouted Asterin, sipping on her tea.

“You know that women will pretend to be sick to be treated by you?” Joked Ansel winking at him.

“Over my dead body.” Added Aelin while eating her food.

“If you need help to get into the program you let me know. I know it’s still a long time away, but, I work closely with the board and some of the trainers.” Added Dorian with a big smile.

Rowan nodded “thank you, sir. I will keep it in mind.”

“Are you sure you will be okay with leaving the airforce?” Asked Nox.

“I already did 12 years and signed up for five more a while ago. I will have no regrets when I retire.” He explained

Aedion was about to add something when dispatch alarm went off.

Dorian stood “come on guys. It’s one of those days.” Then he looked at Rowan “take her home.”

They all disappeared and Aelin sighed and drank more hot tea. Rowan and Lorcan tidied up the table and the kitchen.

*

It was an hour later when Rowan and Aelin got back home. He took her to the bedroom and she curled in bed hugging bird Rowan.

“Go under the blankets,” he said, pulling the duvet over her head “I can make you some tea.”

Aelin nodded “green tea, please?”

 He kissed her head “yes, milady.”

Rowan came back five minutes later with a pot of tea and a cup “here you go.” Then he touched her forehead with his hand “you seem to get warmer.” Another kiss on her head “that is good.”

He climbed in bed and opened his laptop and started Netflix “Fancy watching something silly?”

“Can we watch a stupid movie that we can make fun of?”

Rowan chuckled and browsed a few titles “what do you think?” He pointed at a movie “this one seems quite silly.”

Aelin nodded and he placed the laptop on their legs, bird Rowan tucked between them and then his arm went around Aelin’s and pulled her to him.

“You got a day off tomorrow. We can go to the theatre if you feel like it.”

Aelin’s head snapped toward him and she smiled “I’d love to.” She grabbed her phone and showed him something “have you seen this play?”

Rowan had a look on her phone and nodded and her saddened face broke his heart “hey,” he took her hand “we can go and see it. The first time I went I was on my own and I had no one with whom to enjoy it with.” She gave him a smile “I want to go with you. Also, it was another production. So it won’t be the same play.”

Aelin grabbed bird Rowan “yes, captain.” She said in a funny voice “I want to go to the theatre with you.” She brushed the toy in Rowan’s face “are you my boyfriend, sexy man?”

Rowan took the toy “you are actually cuter than your owner.”

“You are a mean man.” She hit him with a pillow.

“What do you think, birdie? She is also violent.” He hugged the toy “you and I we need to stick together, partner. Such a tyrant.”

“Well, I’ll let you two make out and I’ll go and make out with the last few chocolate brownies left.” She got off the bed and walked away swaying her hips on purpose to taunt Rowan “they are better boyfriend material than the current one.”

Rowan growled and got off the bed and padded quickly to the kitchen lifted her in his arms and placed her on the counter, his arms at either side of her.

Aelin’s stare was mischievous and she leaned over for a kiss but he moved away and Aelin pulled him back to her “come here, Whitethorn. Stop annoying me.”

“I should have really read the terms and conditions of this relationship.” He teased her moving a bit closer, reducing the space between their bodies.

“You might eventually get out of the airforce, but you are not getting out of this.” She whispered against his lips. Then tensed for a brief second realising the enormity of what she had just said. Truth was she did not want let go of him. A part of her, one that she kept still hidden, desired that they would one day become more. And those thoughts terrified her. She had gone from hating the man, to wishing he would never leave her. It was crazy but her heart was telling that what she was feeling was real.

Rowan stared at her, his pine green eyes on her and an expression that she could not read. Terror seeping through her that she had gone too far and ruined the moment.

“Is that a promise?” His voice low, almost hopeful, his gaze never averting hers. 

Aelin’s heart raced madly “if you want it.” She shook her head “I am sorry, it just came out.”

His hand joined hers on her knee and twinned his fingers to hers “did you mean it, though?”

Aelin slowly nodded and he smiled at her. His lips tugged up and the smile reached his eyes in a way that never fully happened before. The result left her breathless. Gods, he was even more stunning than usual. And she knew she had just seen a side of Rowan probably no one ever saw before. He smiled with others but she knew they were not full smiles. But this one… this one was something rare.

“And that’s all it matters for now.” His free hand brushed her face “there’s no hurry and I am loving this. Getting to know you. Spending time together. Spoiling you.”

“I am loving it too. So very much.” Her body inched closer “are you finally going to kiss me or you placed me on the counter to brag that you are taller than me?”

Rowan closed the distance and the kiss was everything but gentle. His hand shifted and grabbed her buttocks pulling her close while Aelin hands found their target on his back.

“We shouldn’t.” He pulled away “you need to rest.”

Aelin grabbed the collar of his t-shirt “you get me all wet and then back away? A nice energetic tumble in the sheets will get me all exhausted and ready for bed.”

Rowan did not answer, he just lifted her in his arms and her legs wrapped around his back and he carried her to the bedroom.

“Good boy.” She whispered.

And Rowan realised, while leaning forward to steal a kiss from her, that if he could do this for the rest of his existence, he’d be the happiest man of earth. 

TAGS

@rowaelinismyotp​

@swankii-art-teacher​

@courtofjurdan​

@whimsicallyreading​

@themoonthestarsthesuriel​​

@bruiseonthefaceofhumanity​

@acreativelydifferentlove

@mis-lil-red​

@thegreyj​

@sailorsassley​

@leiawritesstories​

@clairec79

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch.3: Jesus Is A Pisces

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder has forgotten Scully’s birthday every year but one. Actually, make that two now, since this year he’s determined to make the day special for her somehow. He’d asked her casually what her plans were, and she admitted that outside of a lunch with her mother and some church friends on Sunday the 22nd, she didn’t really have any intention to celebrate.

“It’s been a rough couple months,” she’d explained softly, and that’s all he needed to hear.  She’d gained and then buried a daughter within a few days’ time over Christmas, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know how she managed to stay sane after that, and if he thought about it for too long the waves of powerlessness and guilt that rolled over him were debilitating.

So instead he focused on what he could do.

“You wanna do something after work on Monday? I promise to be as un-festive as possible,” he offered.

She looked uncertain, licked her lip. “Just us?” she asked.

“Just you and me,” Mulder assured her, the words giving him a tiny, shameful thrill.

She was quiet for a moment. “Sure,” she said finally.

Come Monday, February 23rd, it’s business as usual in the basement office. They finalize their reports from the previous week’s case, wrangle their receipts, argue over who broke the stapler (It was him, she insists; while he claims she jammed the staples in and made it impossible to use properly).

At three minutes to five o’clock, she clears her throat softly as she gathers her things, and he can feel her preparing to speak.

“Yeah, Scully?” he murmurs.

“We still on for tonight?” she asks, sounding almost cautious, and his heart fractures.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he confirms, leafing through a file. “Be sure to bundle up.” He looks up at her and gives her a reassuring grin.

She looks happy and… relieved? Huh.

“Well, I’ll see you then,” she says, shrugging on her coat as she leaves.

Mulder smiles at the door as it clicks shut behind her. He’s unusually giddy about what he has planned for the evening.

Over the weekend he had gone to the grocery store since his refrigerator was barren, then camped out in his building’s laundry room all day Sunday washing every blanket he owned. He even stopped at the little bakery around the corner from his apartment, purchasing a single chocolate cupcake and a loaf of rye bread.

After work he packs his car with a cooler, a duffel bag, a large thermos of coffee, and a pile of blankets.

He’s surprised to see that she’s waiting for him on the steps of her apartment, wearing a heavy jacket and thick turtleneck sweater.

“I got too hot wearing all this inside,” she explains, climbing into the passenger seat. She seems almost excited, and he strangely wants to cry. God, he’s so fucking glad he had the balls to invite her out again.

“Where are we going, Mulder?” Scully asks.

“It’s a surprise,” he replies.

Seven minutes and three wrong turns later, he reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out the map, handing it to her. “Rock Creek Park, please, Navigator,” he says.

“Aha! I thought the route we were taking seemed… circuitous,” Scully says with a smirk, unfolding the map.

“Just tell me where to go; I don’t need a running commentary,” he gripes, secretly relishing her needling.

In about twenty minutes, they arrive at the park’s nature center. Mulder pulls into the lot next to the field across the road and cuts the engine.

“We’re here?” Scully asks, looking around. “It’s deserted. Mulder, please don’t tell me we’re ghost hunting,”

“Ghosts? No,” he says, climbing out of the car and going around to the trunk. “Help me with some stuff?”

Scully comes around to the back of the car, where Mulder hands her the cooler and thermos. He slings the duffel bag over his shoulder and gathers up the pile of blankets. “Close the trunk, will you, Scully?” he says, walking towards the field. “My arms are full.”

They trudge out to the middle of the field, cold winter air biting their cheeks. Mulder stops abruptly and drops the blankets onto the ground in a heap.

“We’re here,” he announces, setting down the duffel bag. He picks up a heavy wool blanket and spreads it out on the grass.

Scully sits down on the blanket, cooler and thermos beside her. “What exactly are we doing out here, Mulder?” she asks.

“Well first, we eat,” he replies, reaching for the cooler. He opens it and pulls out two waxed-paper parcels, handing one to her. “Pastrami on rye,” he announces. “I went a little crazy with the mustard on one of them, we can trade if you want.”

“You made these?” she asks, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite. “Oh my god,” she groans. “Mulder, you’ve been holding out on me. This is delicious.”

The satisfaction in her voice makes him flush. “It’s pretty hard to mess up pastrami.”

“True,” she agrees, “but I was starting to doubt you could even make food. Your refrigerator is usually pretty sparse.”

Mulder shrugs, opening the thermos of coffee and pouring her a cup. “Cooking for one doesn’t hold much appeal,” he explains.

“Mm,” she agrees around a mouthful of sandwich, taking the proffered cup. “So Mulder, tell me; is there a reason we’re having a picnic in the dark?” She eyes the duffel bag beside him suspiciously.

“I’m glad you asked,” he replies, unzipping the bag and pulling out a tripod. “You know anything about constellations, Scully?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course. He already knows.

“A thing or two,” she replies casually, clearly attempting to hide the smile sneaking across her mouth as she eats.

“Well that’s good, seeing as I lugged this telescope and a star map all the way out here,” he says, pulling the telescope case out of the bag.

Scully is enraptured, and Mulder thinks this might be the best thing he’s ever done for anyone.

“I haven’t done this in years,” she says, peering through the eyepiece as she adjusts the telescope’s position. “Not since…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to. He remembers her telling him once, on a long car ride to some anonymous, unremarkable town, about stargazing with her father when she was a child. Captain Ahab and his Starbuck, navigating the night skies by way of celestial markers.

The temperature’s dropping, and Mulder drapes the ratty tribal weave blanket from his couch around her shoulders as she searches the heavens.

“You want a turn?” she asks, drawing back from the telescope for a moment.

He shakes his head, plops down on the blanket and gazes at her instead.

They could be astronauts together, sailors of the stars. Dropping anchor in pools of the Milky Way, swimming through constellations and running their fingers through glittering strands of nebulae.

“I’m good,” he replies softly.

“Mulder?” Scully says from under a pile of blankets.

They’re lying on their backs now, side by side, eyes on the sky. Waiting for a meteor, or a passing satellite, or for God to wave hello.

“Yeah, Scully?”

“Do you give any credence to astrology, or is that too close to religion for you?”

“I appreciate its historical and cultural significance,” he replies. “Beyond that, I can’t say I have much of an opinion on it. Aren’t you a Pisces?” he asks, as though he doesn’t already know that she is, and that he’s a Libra, and that the shitty magazine he picked up in the dentist’s office says they’d be a tumultuous but passionate match. Not that he gives horoscopes any weight.

Passionate, though…

“I am. And I’m inclined to agree with you, though astrology’s link with early Christianity is fascinating. For example, did you know that Jesus is linked to Pisces? His birth coincides with the dawning of the astrological Age of Pisces, which spans from 1 AD to the year 2150. There are many scriptural references to fishermen, and early Christians used the fish symbol as a sign of their faith.”

“Huh,” he says, tucking a blanket more tightly around his shoulders.

“I don’t believe that the stars dictate my temperament, by the way,” Scully continues. “But there’s something beautiful about having a constellation in the sky that corresponds with your own birth. Missy knew more about this stuff,” she say wistfully. “She’d read me my horoscope every morning before school while we brushed our hair or whatever, in the bathroom where Mom couldn’t hear. It was fun,” she says with a sigh.

“Do you think she’s out there, in the stars?” Mulder asks and immediately regrets it. He didn’t mean the question to sound flippant.

Scully takes it in stride. “Is it crazy if I say maybe? There’s… there’s things I’ve seen and heard, Mulder, that I can’t explain. Who am I to say how God operates? Maybe He’s laid the stars out like a map for us to read. That’s probably wishful thinking, but life would be a hell of a lot simpler if everything was dictated by heavenly bodies.”

“Better that than by governing bodies,” Mulder agrees.

Their eyes drift along the razor-sharp curves of the crescent moon.

“My mom wants to set me up with one of her church friends’ sons,” Scully says without preamble.

“Huh,” Mulder replies, tracing Orion with his eyes. “Let me guess; he’s a dentist.”

“Emergency physician, actually,” she replies. “He’s nice.”

Mulder suddenly feels the weight of gravity pressing him down to earth. He can feel the rotation of the planet under his back, spinning him at a thousand miles an hour. “You’ve met him?” he asks.

“Yesterday, at lunch,” Scully replies. “He’s a widower, with a six-year-old daughter. I think… I think my mom thinks we could help each other.”

Mulder’s stomach churns, a facsimile of seasickness rolling through his body. “What do you think?” he asks, voice oddly hoarse. “Do you… agree with her?”

Scully pulls the blanket higher under her chin and sighs. “I don’t know, Mulder. I’m thirty-four today, and my career runs my life. I’m not sure how many chances at a family will come my way in the future. It’s not ideal, but maybe I’m past the point of getting to choose.” She pauses. “I’m sorry, I’m being fatalistic.”

Despite the near-freezing temperature, he’s got a cold sweat forming on his back. “You can always choose, Scully. As far as I see it. It’s-it’s important to me that you know that.”

She rolls onto her side, snaking a hand out of the blanket to prop herself up on her elbow beside him. “Mulder, I know you blame yourself for the things that have happened to me. But they’re not your fault.” He opens his mouth and she interrupts him before he can speak. “Don’t argue with me. It’s my birthday.”

He’s grateful for a change of subject. “That reminds me,” he says, sitting up and reaching over to open the cooler.

He pulls out a small pink bakery box and opens it to remove a single chocolate cupcake with a candle stuck in the middle. He digs a lighter out of his coat pocket and gives it a flick, igniting the candle.

“Happy birthday, Scully,” he says sheepishly, holding out the cupcake.

The single flame shimmers in her eyes as she takes the dessert. “Mulder,” she says softly, in a tone that makes his heart turn to liquid. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Just make a wish and blow the candle out before the wind does it for you,” he replies. There’s only a bit of a breeze but he’s not taking any chances. She deserves a wish.

Her eyes fall closed, and she sighs contentedly, no doubt formulating her request. Suddenly she opens her eyes and locks her gaze with his over the flickering candle, and Mulder feels a thousand words rumbling in him like an approaching avalanche.

Before he can say anything she purses her lips and extinguishes the lone flame with a breath.

She pulls the candle out of the cupcake and pops the end into her mouth, licking off chocolate frosting, and Mulder thinks he might die right there on a blanket in Rock Creek Park. He’s been so good, keeping his feelings to himself, but in this moment his only thoughts are that he loves her and wants her; no, needs her. He needs to touch her, taste the icing on her lips, map the constellations of freckles hiding beneath her sweater. Shake the winter chill out of his bones, letting the flames of her red hair lick across his skin and light his whole body on fire.

She’s saying something to him, biting into the cupcake, chocolate crumbs falling onto the blanket.

“Hm?” he asks, returning to terra firma.

“I asked if you wanted a bite,” she reiterates.

Yes, his body responds. Please please please-

“It’s yours,” he says as a declination.

“Therefore it’s mine to share,” she declares. She holds it out to him, and his stomach flutters as he leans in and takes a bite. He thinks of his parents’ faded wedding photos, of them feeding each other cake in black and white.

Don’t date the doctor guy, he pleads silently as he chews. Stay with me. Show me galaxies.

She falls asleep on the car ride home with one of his blankets tucked around her, the car’s heater cranked all the way up. When he parks in front of her building she stirs, likely awoken by the sudden cessation of warm air on her feet.

“Scully,” Mulder says softly, “We’re home.”

“Mmm,” she responds. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” he answers, glancing at his watch. “Can you walk or should I carry you up?” The question feels faintly suggestive, and he’s only being so bold because she’s drowsy and likely not registering the subtext.

“I can walk,” she says, sitting up and removing the blanket. Her hair is a fuzzy red halo in the glow of the streetlights.

“I’ll go with you,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Make sure you don’t pass out on your way up.”

“Thanks,” she yawns. “I don’t know why car rides make me so drowsy,” she says. “It’s like I’m five years old again.”

“Or it’s hypothermia,” Mulder suggests jokingly. “It got pretty damn cold out there.”

“Winter night picnics aren’t the most practical, it’s true,” she says. “But the blankets and coffee were a good idea.”

When they reach Scully’s apartment door she turns to face him. “Thank you for this,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”

He smiles softly at her. “Happy birthday,” he replies.

He’s mentally debating giving her a hug when she reaches out and pulls him in gently, arms looped around his waist. He wraps his arms around her and drops a light kiss to the crown of her head.

It’s over way too soon.

“Goodnight,” she says. “See you tomorrow.”

If he says anything else to her before she slips into the apartment and closes the door, he doesn’t remember it. His feet are firmly on the ground, carrying him out of her apartment building and back to his car, but his head is far above the atmosphere, adrift in space.

He’s so in love he feels as though he’s running out of air.

[bellesque]

Stop & Smell the Flowers (Loki x Reader)

A Loki Oneshot for the Spring Time with Loki Collab Collection on AO3. Also on my AO3.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 8.9K BIG yikes

Tags/Warnings: Sex Pollen (therefore Mildly Dub-Con), Smut, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Denial, Sex in Space, and some hints of a Praise Kink

Summary: Plant samples from Alfheim and a brooding god as your only companions in a small Quinjet sounds like a recipe for disaster, but some good things can happen in ten hours.

A/N: All I can say is... whoops, my hand slipped?

THE RIDE BACK to Earth is longer than you anticipated.

The small Quinjet is a sturdy and silent thing, the engine’s muffled hum a constant as you hurtle through space. It’s a drawn out, unceasing sound; it brings your boredom to the forefront of your consciousness and warps it into a false sense of steady calm. You might even be able to close your eyes for a second, seeing as there’s nothing but blackness before you—

“Wake up,” a voice snaps from behind your pilot chair, punctuated by a sharp snap of fingers. “You will not crash this ship.”

You straighten in your seat, unfazed by the bite in your companion’s tone. You blink a couple times, squeezing your eyes shut as you stifle a yawn.

“There’s literally nothing to crash into, Loki.”

Heavy boots thud against the metal floor of the ship until they stop by the copilot chair a few paces away from you. “You never were the vigilant type to begin with.”

This time, you sigh. “Look, if it makes you feel better, I’m turning on autopilot. If you can’t trust me, trust Stark. His tech is unparalleled. We will be fine.” You punch a button on the control panel, and the low hum of the Quinjet rises slightly in pitch. Swiveling around in your chair, you turn to face the god with raised hands. “See? No hands. All good. Course set.”

Loki stares at you, his features set in an unamused scowl, before turning on his heel to the farther side of the ship.

It takes a little more willpower than usual not to allow yourself to snap back at him, but you manage. After all, you’re both pretty tired, and he’s most likely antsy because of how long you’ve been cruising through the void of space. You’re sleepy, he’s irritable.

Still, your estimated time of arrival isn’t for another eight hours, and seeing as you’re going to be stuck with each other you might as well try to maintain some semblance of cordiality.

“So,” you begin, pushing up and out from your seat, “Alfheim was pretty.”

Loki stands by the glass window that shows you nothing but the expanse of space. His reflection is so clear that the details—like the strong slope of his nose, his aristocratic cheekbones—are unmarred.

“Yes,” he answers curtly. “Home to the Light Elves. As Stark briefed earlier, if you had been paying any attention.”

You swallow the retort, letting it fizzle out on the tip of your tongue. Stark did brief you on your mission, alright. You just wish knowing how to handle a brooding, irritated god was one of the things on Tony’s agenda.

Your mission was simple enough—collect some plants and flowers and shrubs and cuttings, he said. All the planty things. It’ll be quick, he said. Two rides through the Bifrost from Earth to Heimdall’s Observatory in Asgard, and then to Alfheim, followed by a short Quinjet ride to the nearby planet-slash-moon-thing, he said. Piece of cake, won’t take too long to get there.

He failed to mention how long it would take you to come home since you couldn’t use the Bifrost for reasons that were “none of your damn business.”

“You know, you’re not usually this much of a pain in the ass,” you find yourself saying as you stand side by side.

“And you’re not usually this mouthy,” he replies. He cocks his head at you. “Are you certain the coordinates have been set for Midgard?”

“Yes, sire,” you say, unable to keep the mocking tone from your voice at bay. “I told you. Trust me. If not me, then Stark.”

You lapse into silence, watching distant planets and stars twinkle against the dark backdrop of the void, the unending vastness pulling you into thought.

You’ve been working with the Avengers for just about a year. In this time, you’ve gotten to know everyone in the tower.

Including Loki.

He’s… quite a character, to say the least. Silent. Calculating. Not plotting his next attempt at world domination, but still, many are wary of his presence. You’ve spent enough time with him to know he’s a different Loki from the one in New York, though. You’d even go as far as to say that he’s… almost kind of good. Wreaking chaos, sure, by way of annoying the hell out of Steve and Tony especially, but… good.

And you’ll even admit to yourself, just a little, that he’s nice to be around. Not right now; no, he’s unnecessarily bitchy at the moment. But when it’s just you and him in the tower while the rest are either off-world or taking a day off outside the tower, it’s almost refreshing. His presence is companionable. When you watch a movie, his comments are genuinely witty and they make you laugh. He’s more aloof—more himself, you feel, and he allows himself to actually fucking smile.

And hell, when he does, looking at you with those green eyes and that heart-wrenching, happy smile—

You huff, squashing the blooming feeling in your chest. Pivoting on your heel, you make towards the other side of the ship: the small corner by the hatch that holds your collection of plants from today’s excursion. Maybe the weird, exotic flowers will keep you from acknowledging your tiny (but growing) crush.

“Do you have plants like this on Asgard?” you ask, hoping to inject some light into the heavy and tired air that hangs between you.

It takes Loki a second to move from his stance by the opposite window, but he ends up by your side eventually. He picks up a glass jar that houses a plant with blue, stunted leaves. “No.” He brings it up to eye level, examining it and rotating it in his hand. “The plants we’ve acquired are native to the Alfheim regions, it seems.”

“What does Stark want with them?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

He sets down the jar with a dulled thunk and picks up another. The flower inside this one is pretty: curling petals with an orangey, reddish, and golden iridescence to it. It glitters in the low light of the Quinjet’s interior, and you can’t help but voice your admiration for it.

“Do you know what that one’s called?”

“No.”

“So why’d we get it?”

Loki’s eyebrows scrunch together, shifting his weight to the other foot. “Are you a child, mortal? Why must you ask such—”

You never get to hear the rest of Loki’s question; the Quinjet makes a hard, stuttering sound, almost as if it’s skidding over gravel, and the entire ship lurches forward and then sideways. The scraping sound of metal doesn’t cease as the ship continues to vibrate from the turbulence. You lose your balance, clutching at air to steady yourself, only one particularly hard jerk to the side causes you to stumble into Loki with a soft oof.

The pair of you are jostled to the floor, and the next thing you register is the distinct sound of glass shattering.

After a few seconds, the vibrations stop. Thankfully, because you were really starting to worry that dying in space was going to become an actual thing. The lights flicker before steadying and it resumes its normal hum as though it didn’t just go through the most unholy turbulence you’ve experienced. Granted, this is only your third time in space, but the unexpected collision leaves you spooked out nonetheless.

“What was that?”

It’s this moment that your mind chooses to notice that Loki’s chest has seemingly cushioned your fall, the top half of your body splayed on top of him.

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you hastily clamber off him. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything, only rises to his feet and dusts off the front of his clothes. “You and I are in big trouble,” he says.

You hurry to the cockpit, which isn’t much of a cockpit considering how small the ship is compared to what Stark usually provides. A space rock just about the size of the ship lazily rolls away. “Looks like an asteroid?” you say, uncertain. “Are we caught in a belt?”

“No, it was a rogue one. The trouble I pertain to is not that, mortal. I’m afraid we’re one plant short now.”

“What?” Your head whips to the back so fast that your neck cricks, and you rush to the spot Loki points at.

Broken glass, and a flower that’s lost some of its iridescence. Some particles glitter on the metal floor, and you curse.

“There’s a spare jar in one of the overhead cabinets. Maybe we can still salvage this one.” You sigh. “What if this had some super special healing power and we just ruined it?”

“I told you not to crash this ship, and yet—”

“Shut it, Reindeer Games.” At this, you can see in your periphery how Loki’s nostrils flare just the slightest at the nickname. He hates it. Hates it because Stark uses it.

You manage to pick up the bigger pieces of broken glass without inadvertently cutting yourself and throw it into the waste bin. Loki hands you—well, more like shoves into you—another glass jar, into which you carefully place the flower. You slot it with the other plant samples and straighten up.

“There are still some smaller shards of glass around here,” you say, gesturing vaguely at the floor, “so we just need to be careful when we walk here.”

The floor shimmers in some angles: some attributed to the minute glass shards, some from the flower. Loki dips his chin in acknowledgment before resuming his perch by the window, staring out at the abyss of space as he was doing before you and he decided to look at the Alfheim plants.

A decision you’re regretting more and more with each passing minute.

You’re back in the pilot chair, scanning for any possibility of crashing into another space rock. If what you were feeling earlier was sleepiness, how you’re feeling right now is that tenfold with an extra weight of ten pounds on your head. Your eyelids are heavy and your body is beginning to feel warm. You sniffle, your nose a little congested, and a sneeze permeates the silence.

You swivel around to face Loki. The simple action of it causes your head to spin; you feel almost lightheaded, the same feeling you get when you’re sick. You steady yourself by planting your feet on the floor. “Hey. Are you feeling a little woozy?”

Loki’s eyes snap to you, concern written on his features. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“Not really. Feels like… like an allergy. From the flower.” You sneeze again. “Head’s heavy. Wanna sleep.”

“There’s a pull-out cot you can rest in.” In a flash, Loki’s helping you up, one arm around your waist. You can’t stop your eyelids from closing this time, feeling your grip on consciousness slip from you as your head lolls onto Loki’s shoulder. It’s a weird feeling. Heavy and light at the same time. You want to voice how it feels, but all that comes out is another sneeze.

“Perhaps the Alfheim flowers are a little too intense for your mortal body.”

Maybe it’s the allergies, but you swear you hear the hint of a smile in his voice. Loki drapes a blanket over you—wait, is he tucking you in?—and cards his fingers through your hair. You’re not sure if it’s real or not, but it feels nice.

“Sleep,” he says, voice distant and muddled. “I will take care of the ship.”

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep to the Quinjet’s comforting hum.

 --

It’s hot.

Way too hot.

You blearily open your eyes, the feverish warmth that’s spread over your body the first thing you notice. The funny thing is you’re hot but you aren’t sweating. At all.

Just warm.

Excessively so.

“It’s hot,” you blurt out dumbly, sitting up on the strangely comfortable cot. The blanket falls away from you as you squint at Loki’s silhouette in the pilot chair.

The lights are a little dimmer, you think. Not as harsh and cold, blinding white too, but almost warm. You didn’t even know the ship had that feature.

Loki doesn’t answer you. You realize this a little late after marveling over the Quinjet’s new lighting. “Are you hot?” Your voice sounds foreign, different to you—a different timbre, a little more hoarse.

“Not particularly.”

Your stomach does a little flip because shit, his voice sounds different too.

You swallow, rising to your feet. “How long was I asleep?”

“I did not keep track. Perhaps an hour. Maybe two.”

He swivels in the pilot chair, and your stomach does a funny kind of flip. He’s the perfect picture of a confident, cocky prince with a sort of casual regality; he’s leaning back just a little lower with his legs spread open, one arm hanging over the armrest while the other is bent at the elbow, a closed fist by his face. Like he sits on his own throne, proud and powerful and incredibly sexy.

And you’ll be damned if you don’t admit it’s an attractive sight.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, his head falling to one side. The intensity of his gaze burns into you, and something inside you coils unmistakably. What the hell…?

“I…” your voice catches, and you clear your throat. “I did. Maybe—do—uh, do you want to take a nap this time? ’Cause I can keep watch.” You hurry to your feet, and your legs feel like jelly as you stand. It’s as if they aren’t a part of your body as they take you to the heart of the ship, the halfway point between the cot and the cockpit.

Loki stands, still staring at you, and even in the dimness of the ship you can see that the intensity with which he looks at you hasn’t waned. He reaches you, standing a good foot away, and stops.

You try to calm the wild beating of your heart, rooted to the spot from his attentions, and you fidget. Your eyes are flighty in contrast, flitting from his face to his chest to the void outside the Quinjet and back again.

He lifts a single finger up to your face, tipping your chin upwards so your eyes meet. Heat begins to pool somewhere specific now, and you’re not sure what to do about it.

Obviously nothing, your brain screams in protest. It’s like your mind is swimming, your afterthoughts delayed and your actual thoughts heady, private wishes just bubbling at the surface.

“Your face is red,” Loki comments, his voice low and soft. Like the blanket he tucked you into. No, a part of you thinks, stop this right now—

He brushes his knuckles against your cheek, regarding you with great interest. “You’re burning up as well. Shall I take you to bed?”

Surely he doesn’t mean for his words to come out as much of an innuendo as they do, but that’s immediately where your mind goes: into the gutter.

“A-aren’t you tired?” you say instead, allowing Loki to steer you by the shoulders back to the pull-out. “I can definitely—”

“No, you need to rest,” he insists. As your butt hits the mattress, Loki’s expression shifts into a thoughtful one. “Although your suit seems to be an unfitting set of clothes, considering you’re quite hot. One moment.”

Loki disappears, walking to a hidden part of the ship and you take this time to fan yourself. It’s still unbelievably hot, and the way your folds are slippery without any stimulation (except, you think with a small smirk, Loki’s little pilot chair moment was visual stimulation enough) causes alarm bells to ring faintly in the distance of your mind.

You experimentally flex your lower muscles and—oh. Oh.

“Here,” Loki says as he saunters back into view. He tosses you a dark green shirt. “Wear that.”

You stare at the bundle of fabric in your lap and realize it’s his.

And just like that, a fire is lit within you.

You bring up the shirt to your face, inhaling his scent when he turns his back, and fucking hell does he smell good. Your mouth practically waters at it, your eyes trained on Loki’s back as he settles back into the pilot’s chair.

Unconsciously you bite your lip as you wonder what his skin might look like underneath his armor.

“Don’t turn around,” you say, fighting the urge to jump him right then and there that surges to the fore. You’re tempted. You really are. And you also want him not to listen to you and turn around, watch you undress and change into his shirt.

Again, what in the hell…?

You shimmy out of your clothes and pull Loki’s shirt over you. It’s Asgardian in design, likely tailored specifically for him. You wearing it just feels so intimate. The smell that’s so distinctly him envelops you and quite frankly, it’s intoxicating.

You stand, and the shirt falls just to your mid-thighs. He didn’t bother getting you any shorts; you’re not sure if you’re grateful or angry, or maybe a heady mix of both.

Bundling up your used clothes in your arms, you clear your throat. “Thank you.”

Loki swivels around, stuttering to a stop when he sees you. His eyes rake over you, from your messy bedhead down to your exposed legs. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat quite visibly, and your pride rears its head in victory.

“No shorts, though?” you ask innocently, one eyebrow shooting up.

“Unnecessary,” he answers with a devious grin that makes your insides melt and ignite all at once.

He turns his attention back to the controls, and you lay your clothes by the side of the pull-out.

Wearing Loki’s shirt does little to cool your temperature—in fact, it’s still blistering despite the Quinjet’s air conditioning.

“Are you sure it isn’t hot?” you ask again. You know you’re asking unnecessary questions, but you want to get him talking, speaking to you in that gorgeous velvet full voice of his.

You hear him chuckle, a gush of heat rushing towards your center. “I’m afraid that’s all you, little one.”

Sighing, you flop onto the bed, pulling a pillow over your legs. Maybe if you take another nap, the heat will subside from your body.

Your arousal, on the other hand…

A thought enters your mind, fleetingly, because you immediately push it away and chastise yourself through the murky fog of your brain. Pleasuring yourself? In Loki’s presence? The absurdity of the idea. You should be feeling shame… only you don’t. Not really, at least.

You shift onto your side, squeezing your eyes tight. Sleep does not come to you. You try lying on your back, on your stomach, and then again—

“Are you alright back there?”

The normal tone Loki uses astounds you, seeing as you’re somehow a feverish, horny mess and he isn’t. It puzzles you, and some deep part of you wants to figure out why. Only your brain seems to refuse to cooperate unless you’re thinking of doing certain things.

Things you certainly don’t mind doing with Loki.

“I-it’s hot,” you explain, embarrassed defeat lacing your words. How many times have you said that to him? You probably sound like a broken record.

At this, Loki lets out a full peal of laughter, husky and with a sensual edge to it. You wish you could make him laugh, hear it one more time. Or twice. Or on loop. It doesn’t really matter.

He swivels again to face you, his sitting posture similar to the one earlier, and it does things to you. Causes an uproar that’s novel to you, a need rising within you that must be sated.

Loki makes a smooth come hither motion with his fingers, curling from his pinky to his index. A beckoning you can’t refuse. “Perhaps I can help. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m quite adept at magic. It may help the current predicament you face.”

You slide off the cot and walk barefooted to the copilot chair. He looks a little different, you realize as you amble towards him. Maybe it’s the allergies, but just as he sounds different, there’s something different about him now that you’re really looking. He’s always been a pretty face and you’ve always found him extraordinarily handsome, but right now is different. You just can’t put a finger on it, so you chalk it up to his aura changing. Or the allergies. Most likely it’s the allergies.

You’re about to sit in the copilot chair beside him, only to be stopped when Loki laughs again and wraps his fingers around your wrist. All you hear is a faint, “No, silly girl,” before he pulls you in between his legs.

Pulls you with surprising strength, it seems, because your butt lands almost unceremoniously in the crook of his groin and lap. Your knees are hooked over the opposite arm rest, which means if you shift even just the tiniest bit to the side, your hip will come in contact with a certain part of him.

It’s a dilemma, you think with a giggle, if you want to be caught in a hard place.

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you close to him, and it just registers that you’re sitting on his lap holy shit you’re sitting on his lap.

“Are you comfortable?” he murmurs, adjusting your position so he can rest his chin on your shoulder. Instantly your mouth goes dry; it’s the proximity. You’ve never been this close to him before, and being in such a… an intimate position has you tense and rigid on top of him.

“I think so?” you squeak, stilling further as Loki’s nose burrows into your hair. He parts the curtain of your hair with side to side movements, until he buries his face into your neck. He inhales, and a delicious shiver runs down your sides.

“Good,” he breathes.

You’re frozen on his lap, afraid to even let out the smallest puff of air. His face just stays there, in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“Are… you okay?”

And then your heart stops, because he’s lifting his head, his fingers brushing your hair to the back and exposing your nape to the cool air. The next second he’s tracing the tip of his nose from your chin up to your earlobe, where he pauses. You’re acutely aware of his lips against your skin, just barely brushing against it. “Never been better.”

He inhales again, deeply, and another shiver runs down your spine. You were wrong to think he was unaffected; something’s changed between you as you slept, and you aren’t sure why or what it is.

“You smell…” He trails off, moving down and back to the spot behind your ear. You swear you feel the slightest whisper of a kiss there, and it takes extra effort to hold in the sigh that’s caught in your throat. “…different.”

“I have a smell?” It comes out with a halfhearted, short laugh; an attempt to ease the thick tension that hangs over you.

Loki only hums in response. This time, with the pressure on your neck and the puffs of his breathing against your skin, you’re sure Loki’s lips are on you. Not a kiss, nothing more—just a steady weight that anchors you in his lap.

Anchors you to the reality that you are in his lap.

“And you are so warm.” The way he says it, his mouth moving against your skin, it’s almost as if he’s talking to himself. His arms around your waist tighten, and your hip comes in contact with a little bulge.

Well, not very little, but…

“Y-yeah, I thought you were going to do something about that.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes.”

His hand rests on your exposed thigh, his thumb rubbing hypnotic circles into your skin. “Better?” he asks with his face still buried in the crook of your neck.

“I don’t think so.” Coherency becomes increasingly difficult to achieve; you’re too focused on the sizzle of electricity thrumming within your veins, spidering from where he touches you.

“How about…” His hand glides up your thighs, skimming over your underwear and underneath the baggy shirt until they come up to rest on your hip. “Now?”

You’re sure he kisses you this time, on that sensitive spot below your ear, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from making a sound.

“Still nothing,” you whisper, strained. “As hot as ever.”

There is no second guessing anymore: something wet and hot darts out behind your ear, and Loki’s lips press a firm, lingering kiss there as his hand skims to the center of your stomach. You suck in a shaky breath, your eyes slipping closed at the spark you feel.

“And now?” he questions, just by your ear. The conspiratorial tone and the volume he uses makes you clench in anticipation.

Instead of answering, you shift on his lap—purposefully grinding a little bit on his evident erection. You hear Loki’s breathing change just slightly, his fingers curling on your stomach.

You think he’s about to do something to break the sexual tension and turn it into something tangible, something you both can actually do to ease the ache you’re sure you both feel, but you know the God of Mischief enjoys his games. He enjoys acting unaffected when in fact he is, and you intend to play that to your advantage. Somehow.

“I’m not sure I’m feeling anything,” you say as nonchalant as possible. A plan quickly brews in your mind, and you pretend to notice something on the dashboard. You wriggle in Loki’s lap, making sure to rub him in all the right places as you tell him you swear you saw something whiz past.

The way Loki tenses underneath you brings you a small bout of satisfaction.

“Perhaps,” he starts, his voice clearly strained as you begin to rotate your hips ever so lightly against him, “perhaps a nap is what you need.”

“But Loki,” you say, exaggerated and almost whiny as you lean back against his lean chest, feeling the full extent of his arousal against your lower back, “who’s going to see if the asteroid comes back?”

You yelp as Loki stands, one arm hooked under your knees and the other around your waist. He’s carrying you, the thought floating through your muddled brain.

“Stark will handle it. Like you said. Trust him and his technology, or something like that,” he says, voice a little rough. “It’s bed for you.”

Loki lays you down with surprising gentleness, smoothing the covers around you. You think you might be able to sleep a little now that a little pent up energy has been released, but you only become shell-shocked when Loki climbs into the cot beside you.

It’s not a very large bed, mind you, which means that you’re trapped between his body and the wall of the ship. There isn’t much room to lay on your back when Loki’s in it with you, so you settle on your side while he does the same.

Loki pulls your back to his chest, completely flush against his body. “Relax,” he murmurs. “Try to sleep.”

Yeah, as if you can with something very hard poking into your backside.

For the record, you do try to sleep. You let your eyes drift closed with Loki’s arm draped over you, but even when you reach that half asleep state you’re focused on his erection behind you and his arm slowly making its way under your shirt again.

And somehow, whether it’s of your own doing or your body on autopilot, your hand slowly makes its way behind, reaching between you and placing it flat against his erection.

It’s like time stops. There’s nothing but static in your brain, the only sound the ever-present hum of the ship. As if neither of you dare to breathe. Loki’s fingers rest on your hipbone, where the garter of your underwear rests.

Neither of you move. You stay like this, for how long you don’t know, until Loki exhales a little, pressing his length against your palm.

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper, shifting to ease the budding strain in your arm. “Still hot.”

“So am I,” Loki replies softly.

You don’t think you can tense up further, but your body surprises you. “Maybe…” You don’t know why you’re allowing your question to form and where you’re getting the boldness to ask. “Maybe you should take something off.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you don’t turn around to face him. The sound of the sheets rustling and the mattress shifting is enough to tell you that he got up. Cold dread begins to replace the delicious fire that was coursing through your veins—have you scared him away? Offended him?

The mattress dips again, and Loki’s pulling you against him, in the same spooning position you were in earlier. Only… only he’s shirtless, you realize when your back hits his chest.

Shit, you really want to turn around and take a good look at his gloriously naked chest first.

You’re not sure your heart can take any more when Loki slowly guides your hand back to the evidence of his arousal. Once he places your palm on his erection, his hand is sliding over your skin underneath what you’re wearing, resting just underneath the swell of your breast.

“You know, mortal, you are very pretty,” he admits quietly, his finger dashing against your skin. “And your company is… tolerable.”

“Yeah, you’re not too bad yourself, Reindeer Games.” It comes out rushed, breathy, and a small moan of pain (or is it?) punctuates the end of your sentence as he drags a nail over your skin.

“Do not call me that. Or I will have to punish you.”

When did you decide to court danger?

“Are you threatening me with a good time?”

“Perhaps I am threatening you with the absence of one.”

Fast as lightning, Loki removes his touch from you. “You are still feverish. Perhaps you should take off your shirt.”

“You mean your shirt.” Your heart thumps loudly against your ribcage, your hands now toying with the hem of the fabric. The tone between you two has shifted so drastically, the tension so thick it’s almost suffocating. You sit up, twisting to see Loki lying on his side, his eyes dark and half-lidded.

You maintain eye contact as you grip the end of the shirt, slowly pulling it as it exposes, bit by bit, the upper half of your thighs, your underwear, your stomach, your breasts, until you pull it over your head and toss it to the side. Loki stares at you all the while, a hungry look in his eye, but does nothing.

“Lie back down,” he commands, running a finger over your bare side. “Perhaps now you will be able to cool off.”

He twirls the ends of your hair around his fingers as you do as he says, the warmth of your center now the focus of your attention as it thrums.

Loki props you against him, on your side again, his fingers dancing across your midriff, moving up until he’s tracing the tops of your breasts and ghosting over your nipples.

Your back arches almost unconsciously, pressing into him where he meets you with equal pressure.

Experimentally you gyrate over his erection, making sure to keep your movements slow and agonizing. His hands skim over your breasts until he takes one in his hand, rolling your nipple between his fingers until they pebble.

His head falls onto your shoulder as you keep with your tantalizing dance over his hips, his breathing growing ragged. He tweaks and pulls at your nipples, squeezing and palming your breasts until it’s the only thing that clouds your mind.

“Are you—are you still warm?” he asks, evidently trying and failing to keep his composure as you buck your ass against him particularly hard.

“You tell me.”

He flicks over your breast in response, your head falling back with a barely held back moan.

“Maybe you should take off your pants,” you suggest with a sigh.

“Maybe I should take off yours.”

“I’m not wearing any, remember?”

Loki stills, which makes you do the same. He shifts, gently guiding you to lie on your back. The confusion must be clear as day on your face, because Loki stares at you with those intense green eyes of his as he climbs on top of you.

Your faces are level, his eyes scanning every inch. You’re not sure where this is coming from; one minute he’s all over your breasts and the next he’s quiet and on top of you. He buries his face in your neck for what feels like the millionth time today, setting off a reaction that sends another wave of want to your core.

This time he sucks on your neck, and you gasp. Your hands move to bury into his hair, but Loki pins your arms to the sides by your wrists. You writhe underneath him as he marks you with tongue and teeth.

He peppers kisses around your neck, your throat, your collarbone as he grinds into you. Letting out a small groan, he moves to hover over your lips.

“Tell me to kiss you,” he whispers hoarsely. “Do it. Now.”

The grip on your wrists has slackened and you take the opportunity to pull Loki’s face to yours. Hungry and passionate is what the kiss is: his mouth moves quickly, in sync with yours, as though to make sure every bit of this is real and not just a fever dream. You savor it, the taste of him, leaving you dizzy and delirious with every swipe of his tongue and graze of his teeth against your lips. It’s almost rough, the way he kisses you, but it fits the urgency you feel. You don’t want to have it any other way.

He travels down until he’s suckling at your breasts, and you do everything in your power to hold in the moan that rises in your throat. All you can feel is heat and slick and the pulsing of your blood, overcome with the need to be filled to the brim by him.

You’re about to fumble with his pants when he trails a path of kisses down your torso, stopping when he reaches between your legs.

You’re practically trembling with anticipation now. Seeing Loki in between your legs, a wicked grin on his face, has you wetter than you’ve ever gotten in life. He spreads you apart, settling between them, and feathers kisses over your inner thighs.

“Loki,” you say through gritted teeth, your pussy clenching as he nears your sweet center. “Stop teasing.”

He shifts forward, kissing your hips, your stomach jumping underneath him. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he bares his teeth, scraping over your skin and biting down on the fabric of your underwear.

He slides one side down, his mouth dragging over your thigh, your underwear between his teeth; he does the same to the other side, and again he goes. All the way, pulling your underwear down with his teeth until they’re around your ankles. He discards it lazily, adding it to the growing pile of clothes, and at this point you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.

“So this is the source of your sweet smell,” he mutters as he lowers his head between your legs. You’re shaking lightly, wound tight from the excitement, and when Loki inhales the scent of you, long and drawn out, you almost want to cum right there and then.

“Absolutely divine,” he comments. Then he’s placing his tongue flat against you, your head falling back against the pillow, unable to hold in the moan that spills from your lips.

It’s like an explosion of little lights, you think distantly. Little stars bursting from one touch.

He lifts his head from your cunt with a mischievous grin. “I like that sound, little one. Let’s see how many times I can make you do it again.”

The feeling of Loki’s head between your legs, his mouth inside you, is incomparable. He dives into your cavern, his dexterous tongue causing you to sigh praises that seem to only spur him on. It’s a steady, swirling motion that drives you insane, your pelvis arching.

Then he’s moving up to swipe over your clit, and every nerve ending in your body sizzles and frays, another loud moan of his name ripped from your throat. With a grip of steel, he holds your thighs down, parted wide, as he assaults your clit with sucks and nibbles and licks.

“Loki,” you pant, hips bucking against his mouth. Your insides begin to coil in preparation, your walls clenching around Loki’s tongue. “Loki, I—”

He hums, almost like he’s questioning you, and the vibration on your sensitive parts is enough to send you over the edge.

The orgasm that overtakes you is powerful, pulsing through every part of your body as you whisper his name like a prayer. Only Loki doesn’t stop—he licks up every drop that leaks from you, and it’s enough stimulation for another powerful orgasm to build.

His lips latch onto your clit, sucking rhythmically, as his tongue swipes and swirls around the bundle of nerves.

“Loki,” you try to say, only it comes out a breathy whine, “I want to go down on you too—ah—”

He plunges a finger deep within you, curling against your G-spot in time with his sucks.

“Fucking hell, Loki,” you grind out, your fingernails digging into his scalp as you rotate your hips on his face. You can feel the steady climb to another precipice of an orgasm, as well as the tiny smirk that plays on Loki’s face against you.

Your grip tightens on his hair as he speeds up his movements; rapid, quick swipes on your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you shallowly. Your walls begin to clench at the splinters of release—

“Not yet,” he says, removing his lips and fingers from you with a dark grin.

Frustration wells up within you, but it’s shadowed by the undeniable thrill that shoots towards your center. If you’re understanding Loki right—which you do most of the time—he isn’t finished with you just yet.

He crawls on top of you like a prowling animal, the pure lust in his eyes mirroring what you feel. He captures your lips in a kiss, languid and seductive, his hands cradling your face.

The juxtaposition of the entire situation hits you like a freight train. He’s gentle when he’s holding you like this, like you’re made of glass, but the urgency with which he grinds into your naked mound detonates another explosion of emotions. One action is delicate, the other rough. Contrast bolting through you at the same time and colliding into one as pleasure.

“You’re amazing,” you sigh into his mouth, and you can feel Loki suck in a breath, pausing at your words. Spotting your chance, you roll on top of him, straddling his waist with a smirk.

Loki’s eyes open, a ghost of bewilderment etched onto his face at the sudden shift, and then when he sees your expression he transforms his own into his usual confident half-grin. As though he’s merely amused by this whole situation—but he isn’t fooling you.

“I didn’t think you had it in you, little one,” he drawls, sliding his hands up your sides.

You grab his forearms, pushing them down to his sides as you rock against the clothed tent in his pants. Loki could easily overpower you, you know that, free his arms from your not so vicelike grip, but he lets you. Lets you pin his arms to his sides just as he did to you.

Lowering your head, you run your nose along the expanse of his chest, up to his neck where it’s your turn to inhale deeply. He smells just like the shirt you were wearing, only ten times more potent, and it sends a fresh wave of heady arousal to wash over you.

“Not yet,” you echo his words from earlier, your grip tightening on his wrists as you grind down into him. You can feel Loki about to respond with a snarky remark, so you silence him by suctioning your lips on his neck. Your one track mind has only one goal: mark him with bruises that are of your doing. Claim him as yours.

You lift off him with a little pop; not a very sexy sound, but Loki seems to enjoy it with the way his hips seem to be moving of their own accord. You kiss across his throat before suctioning again on another spot right below his jaw.

This time, you play a little rough.

Loki’s hips jerk upwards as your teeth rake over his skin, his breath fanning over your hair. “Little minx,” he utters, groaning a second later as you push your center against him with a harder bite to his neck.

“Pants off, Loki,” you whisper.

He frees one arm from your grip and haphazardly waves his hand, and your swollen sex comes in contact with the flesh of his hard and heavy cock.

Just as Loki’s about to jerk up and into you, you lift your hips off of him. It kills you to do it, but the teasing, the foreplay, causes you to feel a smidge of power.

“I said, not yet,” you say, sliding down his body until your face is level with his cock.

His length throbs in front of you, and somehow, somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind you think you’ve never seen a cock as beautiful as his. Curious, you lick a stripe down the underside of it, from the base up to the tip.

Loki masks his hiss, turning it into a cheeky exhale, folding an arm under his head. “Go on then. Impress me.”

Whatever intimidation game he’s trying to play, feigning nonchalance, it’s not going to work on you. You take a moment to examine the bead of precum that leaks from his slit, your fingers at the base of his erection, and drag the tip of your tongue over it before sliding your lips over the blunt head.

You don’t bob up and down; unmoving, merely suckling and swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. His hands fist into your hair as your hand and mouth begin to pump up and down his shaft, and just like that promises and praise fall from his lips like wine.

You chance a glance at him, and are utterly pleased by the sight. Loki’s eyes are scrunched shut, barely containing his pleasure, breathing hard through his nose. To have him, a god, reduced to his most carnal needs at your ministrations fills you with gratification. You take him further into your mouth until you can feel him pulsing with almost release, and then you lift off him with a sly grin.

“Not yet,” you repeat in almost a teasing, singsong kind of way.

Loki glares at you, but it’s hardly threatening. You manage to laugh as you level your faces, kissing him hot on the mouth and guiding your slick entrance to his throbbing cock.

You hover over him, not fully seated, his cock just stretching you the slightest bit. Your self-restraint cracks with every passing second you remain unmoving, until Loki takes your hips in his hands and brings you down on top of him, seating you on top of him.

He stretches you in a way you can only describe as full. You lean forward, planting your hands on his lean chest, and rock against him, eyes closing at the feeling.

It’s nothing you could ever conjure up in your wild dreams—he fills you, grinding in time with you and sending you into a barely controlled frenzy. But you keep your movements slow, relishing the way you can feel him throb inside you. Everything feels so new, a first you’ve never experienced: each touch, movement, kiss, no matter how small seems to be amplified in the small ship. It fills you with an unfamiliar, delicious kind of fire, boiling inside you.

“Not—not bad,” Loki grunts, unable to maintain the once casual tone he used before. “For a mortal.”

You swivel your hips and rake your nails over his chest, and Loki’s mouth parts lightly. “Not bad,” you remark, squeezing your muscles around him, “Reindeer Games.”

It’s Loki’s turn to seize his opportunity, it seems, because his eyes fly open, a wild, hungry look to him as he flips you underneath him, his cock still buried in you. The shift in position drives you a little mad, your pussy clenching unconsciously around him.

“What did I say,” he asks dangerously, plowing in and out of you with slow, agonizing strokes, “about calling me that?”

“You’d punish me.” A delicious shiver runs down your spine as the words come out.

“Wonderful that you remember. Because you’re about to forget everything except my name.”

And with that promise, Loki brings your wrists over your head, pinning them above you with a firm grip, his mouth seeking yours as he begins to rut into you more senselessly now. He swallows the moan you make when the tip of his cock hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you, making sure to angle it right where you’re most sensitive.

He doesn’t cease his movements when he latches onto your breast, roughly biting and sucking until you’re whimpering soft cries and pleas and praises. His other hand caresses the curve of your hip and ass before he presses on your clit.

If you were seeing stars earlier, right now you’re seeing entire galaxies explode behind your eyes. The sensations are overwhelming, your legs spread wide open, and just when you think you’ve felt it all, Loki takes you by surprise and pulls you both into a kneeling position. He bounces you on his cock with unrelenting speed, and your arms find their way around his shoulders as you approach orgasm yet again.

You subconsciously flex your walls around him, biting down on his shoulder to prepare you for an orgasm—only Loki slows to a stop, gently laying you back down on your back.

The release that built inside you ebbs away, and you clench around Loki, a silent signal for him to continue. Only Loki pulls himself out of you, resting atop you with his face buried in your neck, suckling another bruise into your skin.

“Loki,” you breathe, his hand cupping your breast, “Loki, please.”

The god has the nerve to smile against you, you feel it. “What did you say to me earlier?”

“You said it to me first, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Loki lifts his head, his eyes boring into yours, blown with desire and yet… something has shifted. Something else is there.

“You are extraordinary,” he tells you, brushing hair away from your forehead. “You have always been the object of my attention, ever since you walked into the board room on your first day.”

Your throat closes with the genuine admission, and you swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah, well, I always thought you were pretty neat. Maybe we can talk later and finish what we started?”

Loki chuckles, his eyes crinkling, and presses a kiss to your lips. “Smart woman.”

It’s almost as if the tender moment doesn’t happen at all, because Loki’s arms snake underneath you to bring your hips closer to his, plunging into you and reaching a deeper spot that makes both of you groan in earnest. Whatever just happened, you can probably mark it for later with a good sit-down conversation. Right now your focus is on his cock inside you, and you don’t hesitate to tell him how good he’s making you feel.

“Hands above your head,” he commands.

You oblige, and his head immediately dips to your breasts. He’s kissing, licking everywhere he can reach, while your hands tangle in his hair, his shoulders, his muscled back. Your back arches, his cock thrusting mercilessly into you, burying himself to the hilt and brushing against that sweet, sweet spot over and over.

You don’t know how you’re ever going to come back from this. Loki buried within you, your cunt stretching to accommodate him, perfectly slotting into each other. His fingers rub against your clit, adding to your already overloaded senses and fuck, it’s as if all the effects from the foreplay and your heat come crashing down in one big tidal wave.

The speed at which Loki’s pounding into you is almost ungodly, unreal. Your mouth hangs open, your orgasm building with extraordinary intensity—

Almost as quickly as it builds, you’re tipped over the edge, a broken wail of his name accompanying the spasms in your lower body. You’ve never had an orgasm as shattering as this one, your cunt fluttering around Loki even as you slowly come down from your high.

“That’s it,” Loki says, jaw set. “Very good, little one.”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down—he continues to wreck you, the sounds of your coupling obscenely filling the air. You want him to feel the seismic pleasure you just did—so you clamp around him, rotate your hips in little circles in time with his thrusts.

“You’re absolutely amazing,” you tell him, watching how he slowly unravels with every new praise. You tell him how good he makes you feel, how good he is, perfect and incredible and oh, the things you would do to—

Loki bends down and kisses you ferociously, licking every part of your mouth and biting on your lips as he bucks, going rock hard and cumming inside you. His movements slow, just a fraction, as you let him ride out his high.

“Glorious woman,” he mutters, his eyes still closed as he kisses over every inch of your face.

You’re about to return with a compliment of your own, but are cut off when Loki grinds into you again.

“A-are you still hard?” you ask, a giggle rising to your throat whose tail end turns into another moan.

“I’ve lost count how many times I’ve made you make that wonderful sound,” he says, hips stirring back to life as you feel a fresh bout of slick moisture gush down your legs. “I think that’s quite a success.”

And then he’s flipping you over, on your stomach, pulling your ass up and sliding his still-hard cock back into your dripping folds, reaching depths you didn’t even know you had, evidently ready for another round.

Through your half-lidded eyes, you make out the faint outline of stars—whether they’re from the pleasure you feel or actually there, you don’t know.

-- -- --

You’d think overstimulation would best you, but your entire afternoon—evening, morning, you can’t really tell, space is just completely dark—has been you and Loki all over each other all over the ship.

You can’t tell how long it’s been, but you can feel the ship beginning to descend into Earth’s atmosphere.

“Hey. Hey, Loki—ah, yes, there—”

You’ve also lost track of how many orgasms you’ve had.

You writhe underneath him, searing hot ecstasy blistering in your core as Loki sucks on your clit, his teeth just lightly scraping over it, his fingers smoothing over your inner thighs.

“You taste so sweet, little one,” he murmurs against you, licking through your folds.

“Don’t distract me.” You swat at his head weakly. “I think we’re here.”

“Haven’t touched the ground,” he says, shrugging, making to dive back into your well-spent cunt.

You stop him before he can seduce you into letting him taste you again, and again, as he’d been doing all day.

Whatever warmth you were feeling earlier has completely subsided from your body, and even your mind feels clearer. As soon as you came down from whatever it was, all that was left was a blissful afterglow that you still feel until now.

Surprisingly, you and Loki haven’t had any awkward, dead air—granted, he has been buried in your thighs and yours in his most of the trip. You thought maybe as soon as the strange fever subsided, you’d both be back to whatever it was before this, but apparently not. It seems to have opened up a door, an opportunity, one you both mutually want to walk through together.

“We still have time,” Loki purrs, caressing your folds with his thumbs.

“You’re insatiable,” you sigh, and Loki takes this as a sign to delve back into your warmth, his tongue gliding into you for the umpteenth time today.

“You love it.”

 --

You and Loki disembark the Quinjet, you with shaky legs and him with a sort of spring in his step. You’re not sure what to tell the others when you see them, a tinge of worry sneaking into your bubble of sexual satisfaction.

As soon as you walk into the board room, you’re met with the expectant eyes of the Avengers, studying the pair of you with varying expressions.

And then Loki’s sliding his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, and the room erupts into shouts of “Called it!” and “No!” and you can’t help but laugh at the raucousness of it all.

“I’m glad we couldn’t take the Bifrost coming back here,” you tell Loki quietly.

“As am I,” he whispers back.

“Yeah, about that,” Stark cuts in, stepping forward, “yeah… you totally could have used it.”

[moralesispunk]

Study Break

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Summary - Frankie has been a little stressed since going back to college after retiring from the army. You come up with a little fun to “help” him study.

Warnings - smut. m masterbation. 

Frankie has been a little stressed lately. Okay, maybe more than a little. Ever since deciding to go back to college part time for a mechanical engineering course he's been more worked up than usual.

He was sitting at the desk opposite you while you both worked, his hand having run through his hair so many times it was basically standing on its ends and his other hand clicking his pen as he read and re-read over his flashcards.

“Hey, baby,” you said to get his attention, “maybe you should take a break you’ve been at this for a while now?”

“I can’t. Too much to go over before Friday,” he sighed, leaning his head back against the chair and closing his eyes.

“Frankie, you know all this. You knew all this before you even started the course. You’ll be fine, you know it. Plus, you’ll just burn out if you don’t take any breaks,” you said sweetly, trying to get him to relax even if just for five minutes.

Frankie looked up and offered you a sweet smile before picking his cards back up again and shuffling through them. What you said was true. The course was one he would be able to pass with no studying, or even going to any of the night classes for that matter, but Frankie didn’t test well. With his leg bouncing up and down and hand clicking his pen you came up with an idea for him to relax. 

“How about I help you test yourself?” you asked, slowly standing from your chair and moving to stand behind him, resting your hands on his shoulders and gently massaging the knots out of them.

“Are you sure? You’re not too busy?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed together. 

“Never too busy for you,” you said, gently placing a kiss to his neck before taking the flash cards from his hand.

“Okay, number 1. How do you define force?” you asked, remaining standing behind him.

“The push or pull of an object as the result of contact with another object,” he said, trailing off towards the end while turning his chair to face you.

“Correct,” you said, leaning and placing a kiss to his lips, “You know this stuff Frankie, say it with confidence.” 

Frankie nodded in response, sitting up straighter.

“Do I get a kiss every time I get one right?” he asked, smirking up at you.

“I think that is as good an incentive as any,” you replied, moving so you were now sitting on his lap with a leg at either side of his thighs, “okay number 2, how do you define power.”

“The rate at which energy is transmitted or work performed,” he answered, more confident this time.

“Very good,” you said, leaning in and placing a kiss on his lips lasting slightly longer than the first before sitting back again, “okay, what is linkage?”

“The connection between two things,” he replied quickly, already leaning in for his kiss.

You chuckled and leaned forward to meet his lips with yours, deepening it slightly as your rocked your hips against his. He moaned into the kiss and just as he grabbed your hips you pulled away, earning a pout from him.

“I’m meant to be helping you study,” you said with a slight smirk, looking down at the next card, “what is to-torque?” 

“Torque,” he said with a nod, “it’s a twisting force that speaks to the engine's rotational force and measures how much of that twisting force is available when an engine exerts itself.”

You didn’t say anything and instead grabbed the back of his neck to bring him into a kiss. He was already hard and desperate to feel you on him in some way and as you pulled gently on his hair he rocked his hips up against yours. You moved yours down against him with his hands firmly on your hips. He pouted as you pulled away against but leaned his head back when you moved your lips from his and along his jaw before reaching his neck, kissing that sweet spot of his. He moaned louder now, his grip tightening on your hips before you stopped to sit up straight.

“Question five I think this is?” you said with a straight face, “what is a compressor?”

He looks up at you, his eyes half shut and needy now as his chest is rising and falling quickly. He wants you back on him quickly but his mind can barely focus on anything other than you and the feeling of your lips on him.

“Its- uh- its a device that compresses gasses,” he says breathlessly.

"Good boy,” you lean forward and whisper into his ear, biting the lobe slightly, as you move your hand down to palm him through his jeans. His head falls back against the chair, eyes now watching your hand over him. 

“Your good boy,” he moans out quietly in response as his hands still grip tightly at your hips but let go when you move to stand.

“Lets take these off shall we?” you whisper, tapping his thighs.

Frankie quickly unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans before lifting his hips to move his them, along with his boxers, down to his ankles. You sit back on his lap taking his cock in your hand and now pumping it up and down. You lift the cards back up to read the next one.

“What do you measure in joules?” you ask, watching as his mouth falls open.

He doesn’t answer and instead lifts his hips up into your hand in time with your strokes.  Frankie can’t concentrate anymore. All he can think about is the feeling of your hand around his cock and your lips against his neck as you kiss up towards his jaw.

You stop what you’re doing, giving his cock a gentle squeeze, “hm Francisco? What’s the answer?”

“Fuck- ah. El- electrical energy. Please,” he begs, your name falling out of his mouth now repeatedly like his own prayer.

“You’re so smart Frankie,” you whisper into his ear. You stop to lift your hand to your mouth, spitting on it, before going back to stroke him. You know he wont be able to answer any more  questions so place the cards down on the table behind him and give his cock your full attention, “I’m so proud of you, you know that? So smart and studying so hard.”

He moans in response, unable to keep his eyes open any longer as he mumbles your name. His thighs begin to tense under you and he tightens his jaw. You know he’s close so lift his t-shirt up and kiss along his jaw.

“You’re such a good boy, Frankie,” you coo and with that he turns his head to the side, kissing you deeply as he cums over your hand and his tummy. You work him through it until his head rests in the crook of your neck, unable to take any more. You give the side of his head a quick kiss before sitting up straight.

“Why don’t we go for a shower and get you cleaned up?” you say as you lift your hand to your mouth to lick it clean.

He moans at the sight before leaning in to kiss you deeply. He could taste himself on you but that was something you loved about Frankie, he didn’t care. He just wanted to feel you on him.

“I think that sounds a fantastic idea,” he whispers into your ear as his hand slowly trails up your thigh before moving across to the other thigh, making your breath catch in your throat.

He moves his hands around to your bum and gives it a soft slap, making you laugh, before you stand and take his hand to lead him to the shower where you definitely both enjoy taking a break from work. 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “The Shatter Protocol”

Lol I think you guys are going to totally hate me for this one. Its exciting tho, so there is that. Please don’t hunt me down in my sleep :)

“Commander on Deck!”

Commander Vir took a seat in the captain’s chair spinning around to face front, “Status report!” He barked hands gripped firmly to the seat arms jaw set.

“Rundi radar systems have detected twenty burg short cruisers and at least a dozen kree orbiting satellites, sir, its the whole fucking armada!”

“Keep yourself under control lieutenant! We’ve had worse.” And the way he said it made the crew almost believe him, “Are those satellites armed.”

There was a pause, “No sir, I don’t detect any weapons, mostly just power banks and mild warp capabilities.” 

Off to his left, Sunny had taken her seat at the weapons station, “All weapons systems online.”

“Order the first and fifth fighter squad to deploy.” He said, “Have them pull around back.” He turned to the communications officer, “Get the GA on the line and get me more ships! I don’t care if i have to sell my soul to the GA, but we need more firepower. We aren’t going to win this if we can’t flank them.”

“Yes sir.” He engaged the radar screen, and deployed the forward cameras even as the front blast shields closed over his line of vision, only to be replaced by a projected image of the same.

“Commander, burg warships moving into position.”

He clenched his teeth into a snarl, “Why won't these bastards just give up already.”

“Sir Kozlov and Ho have arrived, and are maneuvering into position.”

“Good. Get me the Burg command on the line. I want to talk to them.”

“Yes sir.”

He waited there for a moment, hands still resting lightly on the sides of his seat, though he did engage the manual controls with one thumb as he did so resting his feet lightly on the pedals and moving his hands to the control sticks.

A projected image appeared in his vision, and it was big and ugly, with too many legs, a couple of mandibles, and some twitching antennae. Commander Vir wished he could meet the thing in person, simply to spit in the creature’s face.

“Commander.” it hissed, it's sibilant clattering voice making him want to open up his skull and itch at his brain.

“I’m afraid you have e at somewhat of a disadvantage…. I don’t know your name.”

The creature hissed, “We are on equal playing fields, commander.” It placed a little emphasis on the last word.

Commander Vir kept his face neutral, “You and I have never been on equal playing fields.”

“I think we have.”

“Well no, you see because ever conflict humanity has had with the burg, we’ve won. Three times. Some of your peop’e were defeated by army ants, so forgive me if I am skeptical.”

INstead of flying into a fit of rage like he had become accustomed too, this creature simply chittered its mandibles, “That will change soon enough.”

“Don’t suppose I can convince you to surrender?”

“No, I don’t suppose you can.”

Commander Vir tapped his fingers  against the chair seat, “Than I suppose you will die like the rest of your predecessors.”

The burg commander, still calmly, “There are worse things than death, commander.” ANd then the line went dead.

Commander Vir frowned, but was cut off from his thoughts, “Sir, The burg ship is preparing to fire.” “Beginning evasive maneuvers.” At the back of the ship, the rear thrusters pulsed and they shot downwards jolting much of the crew in their seats. They couldn’t feel the projectile pass, as there was no blast radius in space, but the COmmander’s quick maneuver had stopped them from taking a round straight to the nose fo the ship.

“Sunny, fire when ready.”

“Yes sir, predictive engine has been booted.”

“Predictive engine?”

“Sunny flipped up the joystick on her weapons module, “Yes sir, I designed it for times just like this.”

Commander Vir watched nervously as she worked, finger twitching towards the trigger on his joysticks, but she was the weapons expert, it was time to let her work.

Two shots fired one slightly delayed from the other. The first of them aimed for the far right deck of the burg ship. It missed entirely as they maneuvered to the side and straight into the path of the second.

Commander Vir had never seen a hit so solid in his entire life.

He blinked in shock as pieces of debris exploded into space around the burg ship.

“Direct hit, sir.” She said. If she had had time to think, she would have been pleased with herself. The predictive engine she had spoken of earlier, was a piece of engineered software she had designed just for this occasion. It used probability, mathematics and fast calculation to determine the most likely course of action for a ship maneuver in comparison to a fired shot. In this way she could predict her target’s movement to an accuracy of 65% and almost up to 72% if she played her cards right.

Commander Vir tightened his hands on the joysticks, “What do you need me to do, Sunny.”

“You do whatever you need to, commander, and I will match you.”

She has sent off anther careful volley of shots, slowly rotating the guns in pairs of two to give the others time to cool off.

Bright white lights lit up the vast darkness of space as the two groups began firing back and forth at each other. The Celzex ship glowed an almost neon purple for a second before a massive discharge cut across the intervening space at speeds nearly incomprehensible.

A burg ship exploded, almost atomized on the spot.

The burg line broke, and dissolved into chaos breaking left and right. Commander Vir maneuvered his ship to the side, and cut forward, dancing the massive ship like a delicate ballet dancer across the stage of space.

As they cut by, Sunny armed close range ballistic cannons, sending a rapid onslaught of tungsten rods straight through the burg hull depressurizing an entire side of the ship. Captain Vir rolled to the side out of the way of another line of fire.

Outside, the fighters swarmed around his ship keeping burg fighters at bay. At a distance, the fight almost appeared like a swarm of bees around the head of a bear, one lumbering, the the others fast and graceful.

The burg tried to cut around to flank them from the back, but Captain Kozlov and Ho were waiting for them. The two crossed their firing fields, and decimated anyone who was stupid enough to enter. The Rundi ship covered the Celzex ship with it’s shielding, dropping it only on occasion when the Celzex’s weapons had charged back to full power.

Their weapons were slow, but when they hit, they absolutely decimated whatever they touched.

The ship shook as one of the burg fighters brought a line of rapid gunfire down their hull. Commander Vir cursed, knowing he could do nothing against an attack from such a small fighter.

Two more sharp blinks of light in the middle of space, and a Terasaki ship appeared escorted by another Rundi imperial.

Their appearance on the fighting stage was so sudden, the Burg had no time to react.

The Terasaki, as innovative as they were  shot off a projectile towards two burg ships. It missed entirely, or so it seemed unti l there was a bright pulse of blue light, and the two ships jolted suddenly sideways as the absolutely massive magnet pulled them together.

They did not remain their long as the Celzex took the opportunity blasting both ships and the Tesraki magnet into atoms.

However, while their shields had been momentarily down, the burg had fired another volley, and the rundi ship rocked violently to the side. At least six burg ships concentrated their attack on the limping cruiser as its shields flickered on and off. The concentration was too high, and commander Vir maneuvered around and back behind them as a pice of the RUndi shi was blasted off. Bodies were sucked out of the open compartment and into the vastness of space.

He was flanking them now having turned a full 180 from their their original position.

Sunny humed in pleasure.

On board the ship’s most powerful railguns fired in quick succession. Commander vir jolted in his seat as the huge weapons bounced the backwards forcing the rear thrusters to fire in response, keeping them steady.

The first round blasted apart the Burg shield, and the second round cut right into the burg engine bay.

He was almost blinded by the bright light as the ship seemed to atomize right there on the spot as the Burg warp core was perforated, and the half that did not atomize imploded. The sudden destabilization of the warp drive was powerful enough to create a rift in the airspace that immediately warped the back halves of two and the front halves of two burg warships into oblivion.

Debris Pelted their companions mostly warded off by shields, but some scored lucky hits on the ships that had already had their shields damaged.

The Celzex took care of the rest blasting an entire field of burg ships into powder.

That was when Commander Vir sensed something to be very very wrong. He didn’t know what for sure, but a pit had formed in his stomach causing his heart to drop into his pelvis. The battlefield around them was chaotic, the burg having switched sides.

He was in back now, and there seemed to be a lot less burg ships than originally.

But where…? He wasn’t sure what made him turn the ship around, but he did, and when he did he saw the reason for his sinking stomach.

“Commander come in do you read, we are sensing a power anomaly behind you.”

He barely heard the words that came over the coms, as he watched the final satellite drop into position in the ring, and when it did a massive pulse of blue power erupted from around them.

When his vision cleared, what lay before him, caused the pit in his stomach to bore it’s way out of his body, his metaphorical heart sinking onto the floor.

Desperately, he fired all thrusters full forward. 

The massive churning black abyss before them was powerful enough to warp space around it. Rings of light rolled at its edges pulsing around and over like a halo, though the center was of the deepest most malevolent black he had ever seen.

Screaming erupted on the bridge.

His ship jolted, and without his bidding slowly moving forward despite their full thrust backwards.

“FIRE THE WARP CORE NOW!” He screamed his hearing popping out to be replaced only with a ringing.

“FIRING WARP CORE.” One of the front panels of the harbinger broke off and went careening towards the black pit.

The ship’s hull screeched.

There was a sharp pulse, and then a jolt. That rent the air around them.

He almost passed out with the powerful wave of warp energy that blasted over the ship, and then died.

“WARP CORE MALFUNCTIONING!”

INside his heart was hammering, his throat was tight and his eyes stung. He stared at the gaping blackness before them and it’s swirling halo.

Comms lit up, “Commander we can’t get any closer, commander!”

It was at that moment he knew.

Suddenly, very suddenly his heart slowed, his breathing evened out. HIs eyes stopped prickling and despite his skin being cold he did not shake. He was still in the command chair as chaos reigned around him.

He heard himself speak as if from outside his own body, a voice that was calm, and decisive, and cool despite the hint of sadness that touched it. Though he did not shout, the power of his voice silenced the bridge, “Initiate the Shatter protocol.”

Everyone was silent.

“Everyone evacuate to the life pods and sealed decks immediately.” His seatbelt clicked into position, and he took a deep breath.

“But commander.”

“I said evacuate, now.” he did not raise his voice but the tone made it clear he would take no argument.

The crew stood from their seats.

Commander vir reached out and under his seat pressing a button that he had never wanted to press. Purple light blinked on around them.

Initiating shatter protocol.

The bridge crew filed out of the room as commander Vir stared stoically forward.

Please report to a restraint harness on an air locked deck or to the lifepods.

Commander Vir closed his eyes thinking “Conn, are you there?”

A soft voice, “Yes commander, I am here.”

“Can you get my dog-”

“Already done commander, she is safe with me.” 

“Conn.”

“Yes?”

“You know I never mean the things I say to you, right?”

“Yes, commander, I know.” 

The Bridge was almost completely empty now.

Shatter protocol to initiate in three minutes.

A hand on his shoulder.

He looked up, and saw sunny standing over him, her golden eyes wide with horror, “Adam, what are you doing!”

“Someone has to stay behind, Sunny. I have to manually fire them if I want everyone to make it out.”

“Bullshit.”

“Sunny, if you don’t leave right now I swear to god I will hate you for the rest of my life.” He locked eyes with her seeing the confusion and hurt there, “I will hate you because you will have murdered someone I loved.” She stared at him still not comprehending what he had said, but that was ok.

He stood allowing the seatbelt to disengage.

He stood Resting his hands on her upper arms pushing her slowly back towards the door.

When she wouldn’t move fast enough, he hugged her close pushing harder until the door was just behind them.

He turned his head to look up at her.

He leaned up moving onto the tips of his toes to reach sliding his hands onto the cool chest plate of her carapace.

She looked down at him confused, maybe scared.

He leaned up a little further bracing his toes against the steel, and shoved hard. 

Sunny stumbled back pitching to the floor as he raced forward and slammed his fist into the locking button.

The door slammed shut as Sunny leaped to her feet.

Sealing ship decks.

All around the ship powerful airlocked metal plates slid down from all the doors, locking each individual deck into an air right compartment.

He heard the metal snick into place behind the door in front of him.

A captain goes down with his ship

He turned and took his seat back in the captain’s chair back straight chin held high.

He reached down and pressed the button again.

Jettisoning Deck F

Once upon a time, some engineer somewhere had designed a plan for an event like this. Lifeboats and escape pods were ok for small numbers of people, but for large amounts at a short notice, it just wasn't viable. So they had designed it where the decks of the ships themselves were lifeboats.

In an event of an emergency the decs would be sealed off into airtight compartments and then, one by one, jettisoned backwards from the ship using all systems for external power.

OUt in space, the Harbinger broke apart starting from the back forward. Thousands of escape pods and chunks of the ship rocketed backwards all at once fracturing like a pane of glass.

Commander Vir felt the power and lurched slightly forward in his seat. The lights around him dimmed as the command deck was cut from power. As the thrusters vanished, there was nothing to keep him stable and he rocketed forward towards the gaping maw of the black abyss. 

HE rested his head back in his seat watching the hole grow wider before him. 

He thought of his mother, hoping she wouldn’t cry too much, of his father who had never lost a son. He thought of his brothers. He thought of Dr. Krill. He thought about his crew, and he thought about Sunny.

Nothing but blackness in his vision.

In the darkness of the bridge, he whispered one final phrase to ALL of them before the command deck spiraled into blackness and vanished.

I love you

[lisabrown-mjfan]

In January 2nd, 1983. #MichaelJackson released "Billie Jean" as the second single from his sixth studio album, Thriller. It was written and composed by Michael Jackson and produced by Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones.

For the story, Michael Jackson said he felt "Billie Jean" would be a success as he was writing it and stated "A musician knows hit material. Everything has to feel in place. It fulfills you and it makes you feel good. That's how I felt about 'Billie Jean'. I knew it was going to be big when I was writing it." He explained that, hearing it in his head while in his car, he was so absorbed that he did not realize his car had caught fire until a passing motorcyclist informed him.

While recording at Westlake Studios, Michael Jackson disagreed with the producer, Quincy Jones, about the song. According to some reports, Jones felt it was too weak to be included on Thriller, but Jones has denied this. Quincy Jones disliked the demo and did not care for the bassline, and wanted to cut Michael Jackson's 29-second introduction. Michael Jackson, however, insisted that it be kept. According to Quincy Jones, he conceded when Michael Jackson said it made him want to dance: "And when Michael Jackson tells you, 'That's what makes me want to dance', well, the rest of us just have to shut up."

Quincy Jones also wanted to change the title to "Not My Lover", as he believed that people would think the song referred the tennis player Billie Jean King. Michael Jackson refused to change the title and asked Quincy Jones to give him co-producing credits for the track, as he felt that the finished product sounded close to his demo. In addition, Michael Jackson wanted extra royalties. Quincy Jones granted him neither and the two fell out for several days.

Quincy Jones had Michael Jackson sing his vocal overdubs through a six-foot cardboard tube. Michael Jackson's lead vocal was performed in one take and he had received vocal training every morning throughout the production of the song. Jazz saxophonist Tom Scott played the lyricon, an electronic wind instrument. Bassist Louis Johnson played his part on every bass guitar he owned, before Michael Jackson settled for a Yamaha bass.

Engineer Bruce Swedien mixed the song 91 times ! Unusual for Swedien, who usually mixed a song just once. Instructed by Quincy Jones to create a drum sound with "sonic personality" that no one had heard before, Quincy Jones constructed a platform for the drum kit with special elements including a flat piece of wood between the snare and hi-hat. He said: "There aren't many pieces of music where you can hear the first three or four notes of the drums, and immediately tell what the piece of music is. But I think that is the case with 'Billie Jean', and that I attribute to sonic personality."

The "Billie Jean" music video debuted on March 10, 1983 on MTV. It was one of the first videos by a black artist to be aired regularly by the channel, as the network's executives felt black music was not "rock" enough ! ( What a shame ). Directed by Steve Barron.

Walter Yetnikoff, the president of Michael Jackson's record company CBS Records, approached MTV about playing the "Billie Jean" video, which MTV had not ever played in spite of Michael Jackson's success as a musical artist. Yetnikoff became enraged ( Ah, good time when Michael's record compagny had his back ! ) when MTV refused to play the video, and he threatened to go public with MTV's stance on racial discrimination. "I said to MTV, 'I'm pulling everything we have off the air, all our product. I'm not going to give you any more videos. And I'm going to go public and fucking tell them about the fact you don't want to play music by a black guy.'

MTV relented and played the "Billie Jean" video in heavy rotation. After the video was aired, Thriller went on to sell an additional 10 million copies !

But the best yet to come...Michael Jackson performed "Billie Jean" on the television special Motown 25: Yesterday, Today, Forever, broadcast on May 15, 1983. The performance is considered a watershed moment in popular culture history. The special was recorded on March 25 as a celebration of Motown Records' twenty-fifth anniversary (Motown was launched in 1959). The event featured many popular Motown acts, past and present. Michael Jackson initially refused an invitation to reunite with the Jackson 5 for a performance, but reconsidered after a visit from Motown founder Berry Gordy, whom Michael Jackson respected and then Michael asked to also perform "Billie Jean", to which Gordy agreed !

Motown 25: Yesterday, Today, Forever was watched by 50 million people and Michael Jackson's routine earned him an Emmy nomination. With the performance, Jackson reached a new audience and increased the sales of Thriller, which eventually became the best-selling album of all-time !

"Billie Jean" reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100, topped the Billboard Hot Black Singles chart within three weeks, and became Michael Jackson's fastest-rising number one single since "ABC", "The Love You Save" and "I'll Be There" in 1970, all of which he recorded as a member of the Jackson 5. It remained at number one for nine weeks on the chart. Billboard ranked it as the No. 2 song for 1983. "Billie Jean" is certified 6× Platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA).

The song has sold over 10 million copies worldwide, making it one of the best-selling singles of all time. It was also a number one hit in the UK, France, Switzerland and Belgium for example, and reached the top ten in many other countries. "Billie Jean" was one of the best-selling singles of 1983, helping Thriller become the best-selling album of all time, and became Jackson's best-selling solo single.

"There never was a real Billie Jean. The girl in the song is a composite of people my brothers have been plagued with over the years. I could never understand how these girls could say they were carrying someone's child when it wasn't true." Michael Jackson. #michaeljackson #Kingofpop #mjforever 👑🌟🙏🏾✌🌻💖

[curious-minx]

Denis Leary is making an animated vignette series based on Dogs Playing Poker and 10 Other Pieces of Kitsch Art That Should Be Turned Into TV

KITSCH auction house tremors and stampedes.

Dennis Leary basically discovered sex, drugs and rock n’ roll with his 2015 two season FX series Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll. Leary’s always been one of those guys that can’t be beaten down  in spite of how dopey and cynical his edgy working class personal brand is. He’s got an entire deal set up with Fox, the flailing broadcasting company has placed all of their chips on a Denis with only one lousy  “N” in his name. I can’t even with this fake Irish Bostonian droid. Relish in the delicate thought process of Leary and leftover former Daily Show producer, Jim Margolis,  bringing up a Pinterest screen grab of the Dogs Playing Poker by Grand Master of Kitsch Cassius Marcellus Coolidge and money signs popping out of both of their heads. Here is a dramatic retelling of this thought process:

“Yo, get this Big D,” salivates the recently fired from Netflix Jim Margolis to Leary over a Zoom, “Fox got this Bento Box Animation Studio sitting around doing nothing but churning out animated interstitials for the Masked Singer, Paradise PD, The Prince, The Blues Brothers animated series, animated Harold And Kumar, Housebroken, The Great North, and ugh..um..Hoops..”

“I fuckin love Hoops, Jimmy! Why aren’t we pitching this on Netflix again?”

“Because Dogs Playing Poker is going to work so much better as pregame filler for live Sporting Events...on Fox.”

“Oh yeah. All of those rotten good for nothing grease monkey and lunch pail people will probably be giving each other Budweiser flavored Covid at the local saloon with these damn dog pictures hanging up. It’s like when old drunks would stay out late and watch the Flinstones at the bar, did you know that actual human male adults would sit in a town like Boston and waste away in a bar watching Flintsones. Can you believe that Johny?”

“My name is Jimmy, err Jim, but yeah Denis we’ll send you the scripts over. Any idea who we should cast?”

“Get me the hot blonde from Inspector Gadget 2, God dammit I miss Louie..are we sure we can’t get Louie back on air?”

“Afraid after Patton Oswalt dognapped his role from him in Secret Life of Pets, Louie CK has been banned from ever appearing as a talking dog again.”

“So bogus. Bobby Kelly will have to do.” Denis gets a text. “Dammit, Adam is getting all thirsty for this juicy  delicious bone. Gotta throw a  big bone to my dog Ferrera. Who else?”

“Ok. I’ll get one of those sad Daily Show losers. Um picking one at random, Roy Wood Jr. They’ll pretty much jump into anything, because John Oliver was in Love Guru they start thinking they can fail their way up.”

“I said no politics at the table! Paws off the table! This is going to be so fucking lit!”

////

Kitsch Art deserves so much more. George Lucas, retired American filmmaker, robber baron of childhoods and all around  mensch has been heavily invested in the kitsch art of Norman Rockwell. There are a bounty of stories to tell. Too many of them are far too white and basic, but there are rich narratives to be found in his out of date even for his own time romanticism of The Old Masters. Hopelessly out of date could have been a failing of Rockwell, but his politics grew progressive as his career went on and fought against the system. Cassius Marcellus Coolidge is the man that operated the first bank in Antwerp, New York  had the astronaut-like grace to wonder, “what if dogs played poker like people played poker?” A painting that dates back to 1894 used as means to sell cigars. What strikes me most about this painting is that they aren’t wearing clothes, but I bet when you try to imagine the painting you imagine these dogs fully decked out in some sort of work coat. There is a further anthropromized version of the ad called “His Station and Four Aces” that depicts a glimpse at a look at an entire canine furry society. His ideas of putting an animal in clothes remains to this day one of the most novel and surefire commercially friendly means of artistic expression. The original cynical man laughing all the way to the bank, his own bank that he founded to boot.

Seen above: An example of a Comic Foreground that also demonstrates the failings of having too few people in your party to properly partake in the comic foreground experience. 

“Cash” Cassius wasn’t the first man to imagine a domestic pet in people clothes, but he’s probably one of the few to do so with such commercial finesse. The man also at one point filed the patent on the “Comic Foregrounds,” which is the technical name of one of those carnival boards with holes to stick your head in. In post Covid times how many more heads will be salivating and rushing towards those holes to pop their heads in to create a lasting memory, if only for a second. So when I start learning more about this remarkable weirdo Cassius Coolidge, a man according to his official website dogsplayingpoker.com’s Biography: “Trying to chase mischievous boys from an abandoned house, he fell from a window and hurt his knee, leaving him injured for the rest of his life.”

Flash forward back to 2021 and Denis Leary and his career a man with a wikipedia with fun entries about all the accusations of plagiarism and hate speech against autism I start to worry about the legacy of more Kitsch art falling into the hands of other greedy and desperate TV executives. That being said if you are a greedy TV executive who happens to be a maniac that likes reading rando’s tumblr pages do I have a list for you!

TOP TEN PIECES OF KITSCH ART THAT SHOULD BE TURNED INTO SOME KIND OF SOMETHING

“We Are Having a Heavenly Time” Columbian Bike Monkey and Parakeet by, once again, Cassius Coolidge

Coolidge’s anthropomorphic foresight strikes again! This time he effortlessly establishes a captivating duo that could be easily voiced by an endless combination of celebrity voice actors. PAUL RUDD as “Monkey” and ISSA RAE as “Parakeet” present “We Are Having a Heavenly Time” present a travel show. You could basically use whatever leftover footage you have lying around from the many Conan O’Brien segments and plug Monkey and Parakeet and their trusty bicycle anywhere for an irreverent glimpse into the foreign World around us.

2. “Clown and The Girl” by Haddon Sundblom  

Now I know what you’re thinking, that title is miserable! I agree, but with a little  reverse engineering you get The Girl and Clown, which could be a whole new addition to the Girl on a Train, Girl with a Dragon Tattoo, Girl with a Dangly Earpiece, the Girl-Verse! The girl appears to be quite fearless of this clown, which is good because we need someone to be brave for when the clown takes off his mask.

Sundblom is also the original artist for the Coke a cola Santa Claus and how is it that we have gone this many rotations around the sun without a single Coke a cola Santa Claus special is the real reason why Christmas will always be the saddest time of year.

3. “Clean Your Fornasetti” based around the artistic Plate collection of Pierro Fornasetti 

Muk bangs, videos of people eating are a huge cyber traffic boom. People love watching people eat. Why not add the element of surprise by what kind of playful Fornasetti chanteuse is hiding underneath this plate full of gruel? Fornasetti is an artist with over 11,000 items created in his name and over 500 of them are based around a variety of expressions of a single woman. Clean Your Fornasetti is a deep and poetic rumination of the romance between the act of someone cleaning their plate and the reveal that the plate contained a visual feast all its own.

4. “Mickey’s Kinkade Playhouse” by the one and only Thomas Kinkade

The Kinkade Studios features over 63 “narrative panoramas” featuring Disney characters, but largely Mickey and Minnie, simply vibing. It’s time we stop pretending that small children like Mickey Mouse and market him for wistful older audiences that want to radiate in a nice long warm bath of color and sound. I am not sure I am even pitching an actual series but more of a Narrative Panoply. One thing that is missing from Disney Plus, and streaming services in general, is a severe lack of programming frills and flourishing. The iconic Adult Swim bumps are something completely lost to the dustbins of programming history left to remain in youtube compilations. Thomas Kinkade is a lot like Enya. Art critics treated him like a comedic punching bag for so long, but I doubt there’s an artist that grasps the kind of sterile enchantment people want after a long day of opioid benders. We’re all trapped inside doing puzzles why not do the bare minimum of slightly animating a pleasant scene of Mickey and Minnie roasting marshmallows or enjoying a breath of fresh Alpine air?

5. “Dust Lickers” by Odd Nerdrum

Quick! Get me Trash Humpers’ Harmony Korine on the Line Show him Shit Rock! The world of Odd Nerdrum is a harsh and primeval one that would make for an astonishing animated landscape. Odd Nerdrum himself feels like a worthy subject of some kind of documentary based around his imagery and insistence on making his art in the most arcane and old fashioned methods possible. Once again, maybe the visual world of Odd Nerdrum may not make for a full on narrative series, but once again would make for one hell of an animated segment.

6. “Homemade Pasta” by John Currin 

A cozy Queer slice of life cooking drama based around the two charming fellows of John Currin’s Homemade Pasta scene. A series of vignettes based around the completely unfabulous and domestic version of bliss that was denied many people as a result of the AIDS crisis. You can’t tell me you don’t see those two nice guys getting cozy and making pasta together and you aren’t dying to see how they go about rolling out their own focaccia bread.

7. “The Velvet Elvis” by the Collective Conscious 

David Lynch at one point in time was trying to crack into making his own Elvis biopic. I think it’s pretty safe to say that the age of a public wanting a David Lynch directed Elvis biopic has probably passed, but that does not stop Velvet art enthusiasts. TheVelvetStore.com is featuring a remarkable promo that could really bump up what a David Lynch Elvis movie could be like and the horror of having one’s soul trapped inside of a Velvet Elvis rendition painting seems like a pretty fertile place to begin a proper story about Elvis in America. 

8. “Big Eye Bunch” by Margaret Keane 

Yes, it was only a matter of time before Ms. Big Eyes herself, Queen of Kitsch, Margaret Keane would come up on a list like this. Tim Burton tried and sort of kind of captured what it so endearing about Keane’s work, but I think a fully animated dive into an orphanage full of sad Big Eye kids that time travel and meet other Big Eyed children version of historical figures is a Big Idea that could make a whole new generation keen on Keane.

9. “Banality” by Jeff Koons

An animated series based around the artistic sensibilities of Jeff Koons would be a tricky affair, but just the kind of gaudy whimsy that someone like Michel Gondrey could use to proper effect. A series based around someone trying to steal the fifteen million dollar Michael Jackson statue would also be appropriate.

10. “Groovenians reboot” by Kenny Scharf

Scharf is the only artist on this list that actually was a kitsch artist that caught the attention of early aughts adult swim. A tv show that only features the artistic sensibilities of Scharf but also a voice acting cast that consisted of Paul Reubens, Rupaul, Vincent Gallo, and Dennis Hopper. There’s also a theme song performed by the B-52s and musical direction by Devo’s Mark Mothersbaugh. One of the only known published reviews of the pilot describe the show as needing mind altering substances to enjoy and that it is essentially like “watching a cartoon reflected off of a funhouse mirror. This is basically a description of the modern tik tok addled twitchy type content that makes a killing on the Internet for millenial and zoomer types. Basically the whole aesthetic of a warped and broken looking cartoon is the exact sort of thing weirdos deep diving at youtube at four in the morning are looking for and seeing that this gets a failed pilot and Denis Leary’s Dog Poker vignettes get greenlit is exactly what’s wrong with the world.

[spoon-writes]

Ends of the Earth | Chapter 5

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse and soon they travel across the galaxy, looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 5 - Tatooine

Sinead turned the memory bank over and over, the metal warming up between her hands. Most of her life she'd found herself in close proximity to a mechanic, so learning proper droid maintenance had never been a priority, something she regretted now, looking down at the lifeless box.

A pleasant and familiar hum surrounded her as the ship hurtled through the dark void, lulling her into a sense of calm she hadn’t felt since leaving the ruins. Even now, hours later, she felt the presence of it lurking in the back of her mind.

Suddenly, the world tilted, and Sinead crashed to the floor. The memory bank few out of her hands and skipped across the floor. She pushed herself up on her hands and knees, when the ship rocked violently, making her cling to the bunk to keep from being thrown clean across the ship.

Two alarms started wailing in tandem.

She gritted her teeth and grabbed hold of a rung on the ladder, climbing into the cockpit before the ship shook and tipped wildly.

The Mandalorian was in the pilot’s seat, his hands flying across the dashboard, flicking switches and trying to stabilize the ship. The kid was strapped into his seat, his head swirling around to look at all the light coming to life.

Sinead sat down and pulled the safety harness over her shoulders.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Company."

The Mandalorian jerked the steering handles and the ship spun away, a volley of blaster bolts whizzing past the window.

According to a screen on the console, a small starfighter flew directly behind them, firing every time the Razor Crest was still for long enough. They'd never be able to outrun or outmaneuver it.

Cold dread expanded from the base of her spine, making her muscles twitch and tense. Every sound seemed dull, like she was hearing it from inside a vacuum.

The starboard turbine was hit, showering the cockpit in sparks as the shock traveled into the main engine. A third alarm joined the cacophony.

Sinead swallowed hard and found her voice. "Doesn't this hunk of metal have any shields?" She grabbed the armrests so hard her knuckles turned white.

The stars turned into streaks as the ship careened to the side, another round of lasers streaking past the window.

It had to be pirates, not many were brazen enough to attack a gunship, even out in the Outer Rim. Maybe this time she’d die instead of-

A shadowy figure flickered to life above the dashboard. "Give us the child, Mando," it said, its voice clipping in and out. "I might let you live."

Sinead looked at the child, who gurgling nervously to himself. She wanted to reach over and reassure him, but the harness was too tight. Why would anyone want the kid badly enough to attack them for it?

And explosion rocked through the ship, and underneath there was a sound of metal groaning.

Flashing lights danced on the Mandalorian’s helmet.

“Hold on.” Mando sent them into a wild spin, the stars turning into white streaks as all sense of direction spun away as quickly as the ship.

It felt like Sinead had been dropped down a bottomless well.

The hologram warped as power redirected. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold,” it said before cutting out completely.

There was no way the other ship wouldn’t blast them to smithereens the first chance it got.

Mando hit the brakes, and the ship hung unmoving in the air, before the starfighter screamed past it, scraping against the Crest with a sound like an old hovercart in a trash compactor.

Mando fired once, and the laser ripped through the small vessel before it had a chance to spin around and attack. The ship exploded, leaving glittering debris like stardust in its wake.

Sinead sat back in her seat. Her entire midsection felt bruised from the harness, but the alternative was being a smear on the window so she couldn’t complain.

“Nice flying.” She didn’t mean for it to come out sounding so sarcastic, but fear and adrenaline still coursed through her veins, making the blood rush in her ears.

The Mandalorian either didn’t hear or ignored her, as he checked the status of the ship.

“Losing fuel,” he mumbled mostly to himself.

Sinead undid her safety harness and reached over to the child. “Are you okay there?”

The kid laughed as the power went out and they found themselves in complete darkness.

“I think he’s okay,” Sinead said, gently booping him on the nose. “Please say we’re not stranded out here.”

“I think I can redirect the power,” the Mandalorian said, getting up and flicking a switch at the back of the cockpit.

The ship came to life, a sad, sputtering one that wouldn’t last long, but enough so that Mando could propel it towards the nearest planet, an orange dust ball hanging in the void.

“Are you gonna tell me who’s after the kid?”

Mando glanced at her over his shoulder.

“You know, this whole silence thing is getting old. At least come up with a lie like the rest of us.”

Mando glared at her, and Sinead offered him a sharp smile.

The planet was getting closer and closer when Sinead leaned forward. “What is this place even? Or are you not going to answer that either?”

“Tatooine.”

“Oh, that’s just great.”

The Mandalorian adjusted their course toward a small smidge on the planet’s surface. “The Hutt’s been dead for years, and he hasn’t been replaced yet.”

Sinead made an uncertain sound. “Yet, but I’m sure the clan’s just waiting until the region is stable again. They’re not exactly the type to give up a planet without a fight.”

“You been here before?”

“No, but I’ve heard it’s a desolate hellhole.”

Gold-orange crags and sand dunes took form as they cruised over the surface, the ship groaning with the effort it took to keep them in one piece.

Sand. She really hated sand.

The comm came to life and a scratchy voice filled the cockpit.

“This is Mos Eisley tower, we’re tracking you. Head for bay 3-5. Over.”

“Copy that. Locked in for 3-5.”

Mos Eisley was nearly impossible to see, a sandstone city poking up through the sand which piled up at the walls making the squat houses look like igloos in the desert. A communication tower rose from the center of the city, its blinking lights the only reason most travelers spotted the city from the air.

The ship wobbled as it made ready for landing, and new alarm blared. The Mandalorian turned it off with an irritated slap on the console.

The kid had fallen asleep sometime after the excitement of the dogfight died down, and the Mandalorian left him sleeping on the bunk, while Sinead retrieved the memory bank, which had ended up on the other side of the ship and stowing it away in the nearest compartment.

Mando looked at her. “Maybe you should stay in the ship.”

Sinead blew out a deep breath. “As you said, the Hutt’s long dead. I can take a look around his old palace, see if there’s something we can use.”

“Just be careful.”

Sinead snuck a glance at the Mandalorian. He wasn’t looking at her.

“Sure.”

Even before the ramp was down, Sinead felt the hot, unyielding fingers of the desert close around her throat. Dry heat snuck under her clothes, making her mouth feel as dry as the surroundings. Cold, unwanted memories pushed to the forefront and she took a second to put them back where they belonged, a dark and unused corner of her mind where they wouldn’t get in the way.

Three pit droids hurried toward the ship the second the ramp touch down, their rusty bodies bouncing over dusty ground like springs.

The Mandalorian pulled his blaster and shot once at the ground in front of the droids, who screeched and collapsed into small heaps, cowering in f-ear.

Sinead yelped and pressed a hand to her racing heart. “Fuck, Mando! What is it with you and droids?”

“Hey!” A shout rang out from inside a cluttered garage, and a short human woman wearing greasy overalls stormed out from behind a safety barrier. Her short stature was almost made up by her rather gravity defying hair. “You damage one of my droids, you pay for it!” The way she was brandishing a heavy wrench left exactly how he’d pay for it up to interpretation.

“Just keep them away from my ship,” Mando ground out, shooting a look at the droids who scurried away.

The mechanic gave him an unimpressed look. “Yeah? Do you think that’s a good idea, do ya? Let’s take a look at your ship.”

She walked around it, noting every dent and scratch on her datapad. “Look at that,” she said, holding a scanner up to the ship. “You gotta lotta carbon scorching building up top. If I didn’t know better, think you were in a shootout.”

Sinead stepped forward before the Mandalorian had a chance to reply. “We ran into a meteor shower out by the Torq. Barely made it planet-side, to tell you the truth.”

“Uh-huh,” the mechanic lifted an eyebrow, but she stopped asking questions, turning around to continue her inspection. “… a special tool for that one. Oh yeah, I’m gonna have to rotate that.”

The Mandalorian rolled his shoulders, and Sinead bit the inside of her cheek. That all sounded very expensive.

“You got a fuel leak! Look at this, this is a mess. How did you even land?”

“Like I said, just barely.” Sinead shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “How much for it?”

“The repairs you need ain’t exactly cheap-”

“I’ve got five hundred Imperial credits,” the Mandalorian said.

The mechanic grabbed the credits and have them a good look. “That’s all you got?” When the Mandalorian didn’t magically procure more money, she looked at the droids. “Well, what do you guys think?”

The droids tittered in unison, and the mechanic shrugged. “That should at least cover the hangar.”

“We’ll get you your money.”

“Mm, I’ve heard that before.” She gave both Sinead and the Mandalorian a skeptical look.

“Just remember- “

“Yeah, no droids. I heard ya’. You don’t have to say it twice.”

Sinead looked back at the ship as they left the hangar, a thin pillar of smoke was rising from the turbine and the mechanic had already started banging around underneath it.

The second she stepped out into the blaring sunlight, her face stung with sand being blasted through the street. If she never had to step foot in the desert again, she'd die a happy woman.

"So, what's the plan?" She asked the Mandalorian, who didn't look bothered in the heat. Of course, since she couldn't see his face he might be dying underneath the helmet. The T-visor seemed completely black in the sunlight.

"I’ll head to the cantina, see if I can find work. Don't get too close to the palace, the Hutt's guards might still be around."

Sinead gritted her teeth. "Right, I have been in these kinds of situations before you know: I'm not helpless."

"That's not-" the Mandalorian blew out a sharp breath and shook his head. "Never mind."

Sinead made her way to the Hutt's palace alone, reminding herself to breathe regularly, not too deep and not too shallow. She was just a tourist walking alone, not a runaway slave from the very clan that until recently had an iron grip on the planet. The people walking past her weren't staring, they didn't recognize her at all.

She clenched her hands so they'd stop fidgeting. It felt like someone was watching her, a burning spike to the back of her head.

A market had been raised in a big square, rows and rows of hastily put together stalls crisscrossed in a confusing jumble. Shouts from the many vendors mingled in the air into an incomprehensible wall of sound. A Besalisk was grilling sweet meats over an open fire, holding a skewer in each of his four hands. The meat sizzled as Sinead walked past.

Two Jawas screamed in unison at everyone who came close enough to their stall, doing little to entice anyone to stop. Piles of scrap spilled into the street, and the Jawas screeched in indignation whenever anyone accidentally stepped on it.

Sinead ambled down the rows, trying to look like she was browsing the goods without attracting so much attention that anyone would talk to her. Most of the wares being sold were practical, tools and dried food, spare parts for droids. Under a moth-eaten pavilion that offered little in the way of shade, she found a small booth filled with trinkets that looked like they had been ripped straight out of the bowels of a ship. There were brooches made of twisted metal and rings that doubled as lug nuts.

An old woman sat on the other side of the stall. She wore ragged clothes that at first glance made her look like a scarecrow left out in the sun for too long, and it wasn't until she moved that Sinead noticed her. Her face was disproportionately small for her body, resembling a walnut someone left on top of a pile of old laundry.

"See anything you like?" Her voice sounded like a trash compacter filled with rocks. "I make 'em myself."

That wasn't hard to believe. Sinead hummed politely and picked up a brooch made from cogs and a rubber binding. "I’m afraid jewelry isn't that high of a priority right now."

Her wrinkles deepened as she pursed her lips. "Meh, people don't even know what they need until it's right in front of ‘em. Tell ya’ what, I'll give you a good deal, okay? The earrings for fifty creds."

Sinead couldn’t help but snort. The earrings in question were made from old circuitry, the hooks so rusty that wearing them was a surefire way of getting a nasty infection. "Fifty is a bit steep, don't you think?"

The old woman grinned, showing her one snaggletooth poking over her lower lip. “Low price to pay for beauty, innit?”

Tapping on the table Sinead though for a second before saying, "tell you what, I'll buy one of your-" she gestured to the assorted jewelry- "wares … if you can give me some information in return."

The old lady grinned again, her tooth a terrible distraction, looking like a broken roof shingle. "Let's hear it then. What'ya want?"

"Oh no, information first, then the sale."

A shadow fell across the woman's face as she glared Sinead, her watery eyes studying her face. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn’t trust me."

Sinead kept her face carefully neutral. "Past experiences have taught me to hold payment until after I get what I want. I’m sure you understand, right?"

There was a cruel glint in the old woman's eyes. "You bet I do. Ask away, dear."

For one long moment, Sinead blanked on what to ask her. She wanted to talk about the Hutt, but the old crone had done nothing to inspire trust.

"The entire galaxy was turned upside down when the Empire fell. How was it here?"

The old woman cackled and folded her wizened hands over her stomach. "You haven't seen our little art project out by the wall, have ya’? A little parting gift from us to the Empire."

"Who controls the planet now? The New Republic-"

The old woman spat on the sand.

"... right."

"We control ourselves, dearie." Sinead had never heard a term of endearment used with so much venom. "We ain't need anyone come here and tell us how to run our own damn home. After they got the message, most of the bucketheads left. The ones who didn't, well, they make a good decoration, don't they?"

"A place outside the grip of the Empire and the Republic sounds nice."

"Sounds like you have something to hide."

Sinead shrugged. "I don't like tyrants or bureaucracy."

"We got rid of our old tyrant years ago, ain't ever looked back since," the old woman sneered,

There we go.

Sinead shifted her weight and leaned closer. "Heard about that on the subspace, that's nasty business. Any chance the Hutt's head is hanging with the others? I'd like to go give my goodbyes in person."

The old woman peered at Sinead. "Sounds personal."

"As far as I'm concerned, hating the Hutt clan is everyone's business, and those who don't are either terminally stupid or, well, part of the Hutt clan.”

"That kriffin' piece of blubber is probably still out in the Dune Sea somewhere. I doubt even the bloatflies'll touch his stinking corpse."

"He was killed in his palace? I heard that place is a fortress."

"My boy went out with some of the others, just to have a little lookie-loo at the place, but the slaves didn't wanna let nobody in. Said they’ve taken over. Been coming in from all over the galaxy, the buggers."

"They still out there?"

The old woman seemed to remember herself. "You ask an awful lot of question, dearie. Maybe it's time you hold up your end of the bargain, hmm?"

Sinead opened her mouth to protest. If Tatooine had managed to rid themselves completely of Hutt control, then maybe other systems would follow suit. The dangerous look in the old woman's eyes told her, however, that pressing on would be a bad idea.

"Sure," she said, looking earnestly at the merchandise. "Uh, yeah … how much for the necklace?" It was the only thing that, if you squinted and stood five meters away on a foggy day might resemble jewelry. It looked like an old optic unit ripped from a droid and attached to a leather string.

"Hundred creds."

"You're joking."

"My information doesn't come cheap, girl. I can always call the guards, say you robbed me of my hard-earned knowledge."

For once, Sinead was momentarily lost for words. "That doesn't-"

"Since the Empire left, we've had to handle justice ourselves, you see, and sometimes the new guards can be a little rough."

Sinead bared her teeth in a smile. "I'll give you twenty."

"Eighty."

"Thirty."

"Seventy-five."

"Thirty-five."

"Seventy-five."

Sinead tossed some credits on the table. "Forty. That's literally the last credits I own."

The old woman snatched the credits with remarkable speed, squirreling them away in her dirty cowl.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Sinead said, stuffing the necklace into her pocket before moving on from the stall.

When she got back to the hangar, the suns had reached the top of the sky and it had impossibly gotten even hotter.

Mando came walking from the other side, his gleaming armor standing out between the bedraggled denizens of Tatooine. He sped up when he saw Sinead.

"You should stay in the ship," he said, when they reached the door to the hangar at the same time.

"You know, people usually greet each other before starting to bark commands, you should really try it."

The Mandalorian shook his head, grumbling under his breath.

“Did you manage to find work, or do we have to go back empty handed? I have a feeling that won’t go over too well with the mechanic.”

“I did, but look … does the name Fennec Shand mean anything to you?”

The color drained from Sinead's face.

"She's hiding out in the Dune Sea with a bounty on her head. I have to bring her back."

"Alive?"

"Yes."

"What a shame."

Fennec Shand’s name brought with it a very special kind of dread. Every Hutt slave had heard stories of Shard bringing back runaway slaves in a condition where they wished they were dead.

“I’ll stay in the ship.” Sinead looked around, like she expected Shand to jump out from behind the nearest hover-cart. “How long will it take?”

“I don’t know. I’m bringing this kid … it doesn’t matter.”

Sinead bit her lips. “Just make sure you get her. I don’t want her coming to Mos Eisley in a murderous rage.”

The Mandalorian moved towards the entrance to the hangar, and when the door opened, the smell of oil and metal hit them.

She wanted to get off this planet, doubly so now she knew that a vicious killer for hire had made this her home. There was nothing to do but wait.

<- Previous chapter - Next chapter ->

[searchforthescars]

Saying Your Names

Emori walks into the bar Murphy manages. Romance ensues. Part of a universe I plan on expanding eventually. Inspired by true events.

Merry Christmas, my dear @maelidpoetree. I love you lots and lots and I’m so glad these crazy kids brought us together.

Title, excerpts from Richard Siken’s Saying Your Names. Also on Ao3.

Imagine a room, a sudden glow. Here is my hand, my heart, my throat, my wrist.

As Emori stands in the center of the room, holding a drink in one hand and a purse that isn’t hers in the other, she renews her commitment to never forgive Raven Reyes for dragging her out of the lab on a Friday night.

Thankfully, it’s only 8:30. The bar is nearly empty; most of its patrons are in the back room playing pool or outside on the patio. No one is drunk enough to be entertaining, and the music playing is a surprisingly eclectic mix of pop hits and soft rock. She hasn’t even seen a bartender, although she knows there must be one since Raven didn’t make her own drink. 

Actually, maybe she did. Emori wouldn’t put it past her coworker to shove back behind the bar and do it herself.

“What, you’re not having anything?” the object of her ire asks, coming up behind her and taking both drink and purse in one fell swoop. “Emori, come on.”

“No.” Emori says, firmly. She hears footsteps behind her but doesn’t turn around. “I don’t drink.”

Raven snort, taking a sip of hers. “You do too. I saw you and Monty at Bellamy’s party.”

“That was beer.”

“So get beer. It’s all alcohol. It’ll all get you drunk.”

“Are you trying to get her wasted or get her laid, Reyes?”

Emori turns toward the sound of the voice. He’s standing behind the bar, bracing both hands against the worn wood counter. When his eyes meet hers, they rest there for a moment. Blue, like ice. They calculate something she can’t name. His face, lit up eerily by the neon signs behind him, shifts in recognition. She doesn’t know why. Isn’t sure she wants to

Raven lifts a triumphant middle finger. “She’s new in town, she never goes out and I’m bound by the contract of friendship to make sure she has a good time.”

“Friendship?” He raises an eyebrow at Emori before smirking at Raven. “I thought I was your only friend.”

Emori opens her mouth to answer but a snapCRASH from the back tears her concentration away. 

“Excuse me,” the bartender says, half-jogging around the bar. “Reyes, sit down. I’ll be right back.”

He jogs toward the pool hall and Raven magnanimously takes a seat on one of the rickety silver bar stools. Emori reluctantly follows suit, clasping both her hands atop the counter and staring at the red wall ahead of her.

There’s a rather respectable assortment of alcohol displayed there, everything from Jack Daniels to blueberry vodka, which Otan told her is the worst-tasting alcohol out there. Above the tiered bottles are the standard licenses, all haphazardly framed and hung in crooked patterns. 

“Cool, aren’t they?”

Emori knows Raven can’t be talking about the licenses. “What?”

“The drawings.” Raven gestures. Emori looks to the side, at the pieces of paper tacked into the flaking plaster, waving in the lazy breeze from the rotating fan.

“Are those bar napkins?”

Raven nods. “Yeah. Sometimes people draw on them. J pins up the good ones.”

“J?”

“John. Everyone calls him Murphy, though.”

“Hmm.” Emori squints at the drawings. Most of them are caricatures of who Emori guesses are bartenders, but there are some perspectives of the bar itself that surprise her. Whoever drew those wasn’t drunk. Either that, or they were too highly-trained for it to matter.

She watches as Raven’s friend – John – rounds the bar. His eyes immediately go to her and, despite her instincts, she stares straight back, gratified when he looks away, a red flush rising to his cheeks.

Without saying anything, he grabs a glass and fills it with ice, then water. “Here,” he says, sliding it to Emori. “If you work with Raven, you probably never eat or drink anything that isn’t absurdly unhealthy.”

He’s not wrong. “Thanks.”

He looks disarmed all of a sudden, as if unfamiliar with the concept of gratitude. “For what?”

“For the water.”

He blinks, slowly. “It- no problem.” A frown creases the skin between his brows, but he doesn’t say anything, just crosses to Raven’s other side and leans his forearms on the bar. “What’s up with you, Reyes?”

Raven launches into a rant about people and things Emori doesn’t know but John clearly does. In the absence of anything else with which to entertain herself, Emori does what she does best: waits and watches and studies.

John’s profile is sharp, all angles and corners, a defined jaw and delicate mouth, strong nose and long eyelashes. When he smiles, it’s sharp and sudden like a knife, slashing across his face for a moment and vanishing the next. He laughs, once, when Raven recounts something Bellamy did, and it sounds sarcastic and doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

She doesn’t know why, but she wants to touch some part of him under all that gruffness. He keeps cutting his eyes over to her and she keeps looking away. He keeps talking to Raven and she keeps listening to the room around her while staring straight at his face.

Emori’s water is half gone when the front door creaks open and Raven hops to her feet. “Is that Lexa?” she asks, half teasing. “At a bar? Who knew?”

“Fuck off,” Lexa grumbles, adjusting her blazer, her shoes tapping on the floor as she sidesteps Raven and heads straight for the pool hall. “I’m going to hit on the hottie playing pool back there.”

“That’s your wife!” Raven yells, at the same time another unfamiliar voice shouts, “Don’t objectify me, woman!”

Lexa vanishes and Raven follows, seemingly unaware that there are people in the back she might know. Emori can’t help but laugh as she goes. When she turns around, John is smiling.

“Something funny, John?”

He frowns again, that same soft crease in his brow. Emori frowns too, reflexively. “No,” he says, and she doesn’t believe him. “Raven’s just…. Raven. I’ve known her long enough to find it all funny.”

“How long have you known her?”

John sighs, thinking. “Since fourth grade, I think. We both had shit moms and no dads. I’d bring her food and she’d help me with my homework.”

Something in Emori’s chest shivers. “That’s... I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, lean shoulders working under his worn grey shirt. “I’m guessing you had the same time of it that I did.”

Emori frowns, tilting her head. “Why?”

He taps his cheekbone where the thick knife scar peeks through her makeup. Then he taps the spot where her tattoo arches above her eyebrow. “No one gets a tattoo like that for fun.”

She doesn’t want to fight with Raven’s friend, so she doesn’t get defensive, even though every fiber of her being begs her to. But she’s trying to be different. Not necessarily better. But different.

“No,” she agrees softly. “I didn’t.”

They regard each other for a quiet moment. His eyes go soft, then hard, then soft again. “Where did you come from?”

“Baltimore.”

His mouth twists with the hint of a smile. “How the hell’d you end up in Virginia?”

“I drove.”

He does smile at that. “I mean, why here?”

“There wasn’t anywhere else to go.”

She could’ve gone into detail. There’s a story there, one about her high-achieving roommate at MIT, every bit the scholarship kid Emori wished she was, and how said roommate inherited a mechanical engineering lab somehow and begged Emori to come work with her.

“You can get your masters online,” Raven had said, propping herself up on one elbow, resting her head on Emori’s shoulder. They were reclining on Emori’s narrow bed in her even narrower studio apartment that felt like a converted alleyway with how little space there was to move. But it was cheap. “You’re super qualified even now with all your experience-”

“Criminal acts-”

“Experience, and no one has to know about your-

“Criminal record-”

“Past indiscretions, so will you please shut up and take the job?”

Obviously, she did take it. A few years later, but she took it nonetheless. But that’s not a story she thinks John wants to hear.

John is watching her expression. He hikes himself up to sit atop the row of coolers behind him and braces his hands on his thighs. “Do you like it here?”

Emori looks around. Shrugs. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

“This town is boring as shit,” says the guy sitting down the bar from her. “You’re from a big city; you should know.”

“You’re welcome to fuck right back off to Richmond, Miller,” John says easily, rolling his eyes conspiratorially at Emori.

“Richmond isn’t even a big city,” Raven says, effortlessly reinserting herself into the conversation. Her long hair swings against Emori’s arm when she settles in. “Go to Philly. That’s a big city.”

Miller says something derisive into his beer. Raven cracks a smile and switches to Emori’s other side so she can rib him some more. Emori used to be good at that: talking to people, making them like her and trust her, only so she could use them later.

She doesn’t want to use people anymore, and she doesn’t trust that those old habits have died completely, so she stays in her seat and watches John move about the bar.

“Do you- sorry- do you have any more quarters?” a slim woman with wild dark hair and big brown eyes asks, sliding in next to Emori and leaning across the counter. “Lexa’s bill got stuck in the change machine again.”

John nods, popping over the cash register. “I keep trying to get that thing serviced, but…”

“That’s what he said!” Raven calls, making Miller cackle. The woman beside Emori rolls her eyes. John hands her the quarters with a flourish. Their skin - his light, hers dark and smooth - contrast beautifully. 

“Don’t spend it all in one place,” he says cheekily. The woman makes a motion with her hand and fingers, elegant and fast. “Hey!” he squawks. “Did she just tell me to fuck off?”

“I think so,” Emori says, laughing a little. “My ASL is rusty but…”

John shakes his head ruefully. “The number of languages I’ve been cursed out in is growing.”

“Maybe don’t be such a caberon,” Raven says smoothly.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Yeah, this time.”

John turns his back on Raven, fixing those strange blue eyes on hers. “Will you come back here, do you think?” He sounds like a hopeful child, looks about the same, too.

Emori shrugs. “Maybe. Bars aren’t really my scene.”

John nods, slow. “Fair. But you’re nice to talk to. I could use the company.”

Raven reaches over to pluck John’s cell phone from his shirt pocket. “She’ll call you,” she tells John, typing in what Emori assumes is her number. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I will text him,” Emori gripes, slapping Raven’s arm, “and only if I feel like it.”

“Text, call, whatever,” John says. Raven replaces his phone. “I’d like that.”

The woman who asked John for quarters earlier comes back up, squeezing in beside Raven. Raven overbalances on her bad leg, trying to brace herself between the counter and the stool, and falls forward onto Emori, ripping the wrap from Emori’s left hand in the process.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Raven grabs the cloth from the floor and hands it to Emori. The woman behind Raven is also apologizing, but Raven waves her off. “You okay?”

Emori balls up the cloth in her hand. “Fine.” John is watching her. Great.

“Where’ve you been hiding that?” he asks, voice all boyish admiration and respect. “Damn, you could take out a guy with that. Might wanna make you a bouncer here.”

Emori smiles a little at that, at the impressed way he’s staring at her hand, so different from the awkward half-stares she usually gets. “I normally don’t cover it up anymore. But I didn’t want to embarrass Raven, so-”

“You don’t embarrass me,” Raven snaps, flicking Emori’s ear. Down the bar, someone signals. As soon as John turns his back, Raven leans forward. “Emori!”

“What?”

“You like him!”

“I don’t know him.”

Raven shrugs. “You still like him. There’s no harm in getting to know him.”

“Raven.”

Raven’s eyes go soft. They glitter in the faint neon lights. “Look. I know you’ve been hurt. I know you’re trying to put down roots. You deserve to love and be loved back. You deserve to give yourself a chance. So give yourself, and Murphy, a shot.”

“But-”

“I’M NOT ABOVE SHOUTING OVER YOU!”

Emori laughs. “Damn, okay!”

------

Say hallelujah, say goodnight, say it over the canned music and your feet won’t stumble, his face getting larger, the rest blurring on every side. 

It’s not pretty when John bleeds.

Emori enters the bar to absolute chaos. In addition to the usual Friday night crowd, there also appears to be a fight going on between John and a patron, one the door guards are unsuccessfully trying to break up.

So Emori tries, with middling results. She takes the woman’s elbow to the cheek and someone’s shoulder to the jaw, but manages to haul John outside by his shirt and deposit him rather aggressively on the curb, where she stands over him and watches unapologetically while he spits out blood.

“What the fuck?” She still sounds breathless despite the minimal physical exertion on her part. “John, dammit, what were you thinking? Actually, no, don’t answer that.”

He blinks up at her, the blood on his pale face standing out like a scar. “I got carried away?” Emori snorts. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I just get...too angry sometimes.”

“Murphy!” Harper sticks her head out the door. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Don’t you have barbacking to do?” he snaps back, absent any real heat. Harper rolls her eyes in Emori’s direction and disappears. John heaves a sigh and hangs his head. “I fucked up.”

“At least you won’t get fired,” Emori says, dry. “Being the owner and all.”

“Small mercy.” He lifts his head again. “Don’t tell Raven.”

Not like it would do any good. “Okay. Sure. But if she asks, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Fair.” He hikes himself to his feet. “Sorry you had to see that. And jump in.”

Emori feels her cheek throb. “It’s okay. I’m good at breaking up fights. Better at being in them. I brawled in alleys a lot as a kid.”

“You- What?” There’s a laugh in his voice that catches. “I can’t picture that at all.”

Emori only realizes how close she is to him when the air of his words skates over her flushed cheeks. “Ask Raven. I’m a fighter.”

“I don’t doubt it.” It sounds like his mouth, as well as his tone, is dry. “It’s a little scary, come to think of it.”

“Guess you’re going to have to keep an eye on me then.”

His eyes drop to her mouth. She steps back. A cool wind blows, taking music from the outside patio with it. Emori hasn’t been drinking but her vision still swims.

“I should get the blood off my face,” he says softly, turning halfway towards the door. “Don’t want to scare the children.”

“If there are kids in the bar, you have a whole other set of problems.” John laughs. Emori follows him inside.

As soon as she enters the pool hall, she’s accosted by Lexa, collar askew and hair a mess. “What the fuck happened in there?” 

Emori waves it off. “Nothing. John just lost his cool.”

“I’ll say. He’s lucky that bitch didn’t want to press charges.” Lexa adjusts her shirt cuffs. Her wife, Costia, appears behind her and fixes her collar. “I helped throw her out.”

“You seriously don’t know who that was?” asks a third woman, tall and imposing, lounging in a corner booth and nursing a Long Island iced tea. “That was Ontari.”

“Who?” Emori asks at the same time Costia winces and Lexa snarls, “the fuck is she doing here?”

“Lexa, shush. Ontari is Murphy’s ex.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Echo, you too. Hush.”

Echo takes a sip. “Sorry, Cos.”

“She was awful to Murphy and none of us have really forgiven her for it.”

Now Emori wishes she would’ve done some damage. “He didn’t say anything.”

Costia smiles. “He wouldn’t. I didn’t even hear the fight until it was over.”

Lexa passes her a pool cue. “That’s because you turn your hearing aid off when you shoot pool.”

“It helps me concentrate,” Costia snaps without any heat. She turns to the table and Emori turns to Echo.

“Why did she come here? Do you know?”

Echo stares at Emori for a long moment before she answers. “Ontari doesn’t do well with the word ‘no.’ Or with anything requiring consent or boundaries.”

Emori feels nauseous. “Oh.”

From the arch of Echo’s brow, Emori can tell she knows Emori understands. “He’ll tell you if it matters. But I wouldn’t ask.”

“I won’t.”

It’s a little awkward, standing there, cheeks still hot, Echo is sizing her up, face unreadable. “You’re Raven’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“She speaks highly of you.”

“I’m...glad.” It sounds like a question. The corner of Echo’s mouth twitches.

“Quit giving her a hard time,” Raven says, rounding the corner aggressively and plopping down near Echo. “Emori, J wants to see you up front.”

Grateful for the escape from Echo’s prying eyes, Emori weaves toward the bar. It’s calmed down notably since the fight; John has wiped the blood from his face and is jittering around near the end of the bar.

“Go out with me,” he says in a rush as soon as she gets close enough to hear him. “Please?”

She wants to pretend she couldn’t hear him over the loud music, but she did. She wants to pretend she has a reason to say no, but she wants to say yes.

She nods. “Okay.”

He smiles, sharp and quick, disbelieving. “Really?”

She nods again. “Yeah.”

His smile widens. Before she can think twice, she gets up on her toes to kiss his cheek. John groans when Raven starts cheering obnoxiously from the doorway to the pool hall. Emori hides a smile against his shoulder. 

----

Here are the illuminated cities at the center of me, and here is the center of me, which is a lake, which is a well that we can drink from, but I can’t go through with it.

He shows her the rooftop above the bar, a tiny balcony with a door that leads back to his apartment above the establishment. She figures it’s a special place to him, somehow; he talks about it quietly and tells her she’s one of three people who has seen it. But that’s all he says as they regard the expanse of homes, dark in the 3 a.m. quiet. 

“It’s nice.” He hums. “Peaceful.”

“I didn’t know you were a criminal,” John says suddenly.

“What?”

“Someone was talking shit at the bar.” He’s not looking at her. “But I looked it up and it’s true.”

Emori’s heart sinks to her feet. “John, I-”

“I don’t care,” he interrupts. “But why wouldn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t realize you were entitled to my past.”

“Isn’t that something you tell the person you’re dating?”

Emori laughs. “That’s rich coming from the guy who won’t call me his girlfriend.”

“You know-”

“I know you’re good at loving me when we’re alone, but not when anyone else could see us, let alone call you on it.”

Her bitter words just hang there. They stare at each other, chests heaving, the humid air heavy in their lungs. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, soft. “I had no right to-”

“It’s okay.” Emori’s never been good with apologies. “I’m sorry too.”

He shakes his head. “You’re right. I’m just scared.”

“Of me?”

“No. Of- People look out for me here. It’s weird, but they do. And I don’t want them to come after you if this doesn’t work.”

“Do you think it won’t?” 

She tries to convince herself his answer doesn’t matter. But when he shakes his head, relief floods into her bones. “I really like you, Emori.”

She smiles. “Me too.”

He takes her hand, the big one. “Would you let me kiss you someday?”

Emori laughs a little, low in her throat. “Let you?”

“Hey, I’m a classy guy. I always get permission.” He says it with that boyish smile Emori adores, and it’s enough to prompt her rising up and pressing her lips to his.

“Oh,” he breathes when they break apart. “Okay.”

Emori laughs out loud, the light and joyous sound ringing over the streets below. “That bad, huh?”

He catches at her waist to pull her closer. “The opposite,” he murmurs, mouth brushing hers. She closes the gap, pressing her tongue to his lower lip, hand tightening on his shoulder when he lets out a soft sound.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she breathes when they break apart, resting her forehead against his. “I wasn’t supposed to get attached.”

He kisses her nose. “Is it so bad?”

A humid wind whips her hair. “I guess not.”

John kisses her again. “Good.” Another kiss. “Be a shame if you regretted-” Another kiss- “All this.”

Emori leans into him, pinning him to the wall near the door. “Nope,” she breathes. “No regrets. Not even one.”

[icosmohunters]

chapter three : crimson red

chapter three of cosmo hunters!

word count : 6.6k words

synopsis : an agreement has been met and now hope has agreed to take these pirates under her wing. literally. now, she continues to be on the hunt for the criminal on top of her bounty list. and she intends to make it work. but something in her bones tells her that perhaps it won’t work as smoothly as she’d planned.

“ would you mind warning us when you’re taking off? ”.

“ my ship, my rules. i don’t owe you the comfort of a warning, pirate. ”

was she being mean? it didn’t particularly matter if she was because she had fallen asleep, and like a protagonist out of a shounen anime, she was rushing to get herself away from her current location and to where she had to be. j-colony was waiting for her! and a dozen bounty points waited in reward.

hope hadn’t expected anyone to wake her up, so she mainly at fault for letting the ball drop and taking too long to wake up. but the warmth in the cabin and the full stomach she had after a proper meal sent her into dreamland shortly after she sat on her navigation chair. 

and upon waking up, hope had gasped herself out of her daze and launched her right arm forced, sending the engine lever forward and the engine roaring with life. she could hear all of the extra bits of the ship, like the iron legs folding into the bottom of the ship when it began to rise off the ground. 

nebula was hovering for a moment until a button lit up on the left side of the control panel, a green light giving her clearance to blast off. wrapping her trembling fingers on the orientation stick, she moved it forward and the nebula followed, moving forward just an inch before hope let out a laugh and threw the stick forward.

and with that, nebula blasted off. 

of course, anyone on board the ship could tell that nebula had taken herself out of europa’s atmosphere and freed herself from its pull and its ice. the engine was heating up, and so was the ship, so much so that outer layers of frost had melted within seconds. the ship shifted a couple of times, rocking to the side before it found its balance point and took off into outer space, heading straight for jupiter.

of course, someone had come into her cabin, probably awoken by the small earthquake that had just taken place within the spaceship.

it was enzo. hope kept her gaze fixed in front of her as she saw the dense gas giant who rotated rapidly, the winds there were said to be enough to rip the very skin off your body. good thing that the j-colony was designed to withstand those strong winds.

“ i get that but you could’ve woken us up. we shouldn’t have slept for that long either so, yeah. maybe have your a.i set up an alarm clock? ”.

“ mhm, yup. ”

hope wasn’t listening at all. she was listening but she wasn’t taking any of it in, mostly because she was brain-storming. it had been said that crimson would be in a plaza or some sort, a shopping center set up in the middle of the colony. and to be fair, j-colony was perhaps the largest one in the solar system, around five times the size of the biggest capital city on earth, beijing.

so if this prick took off running when he spotted her, he would travel a lot. it was why she needed to organize maybe a hoverbike to hunt him down in case he took off. because as fit as she was, hope didn’t like running. she hated it.

so, a hoverbike along with some new weapons, perhaps a new collection of tracking devices . . . she was counting it on her fingers now that she had put nebula on auto-pilot.

oh, and enzo was still talking.

“ and might i say, i am quite good at navigating so maybe if you were, uh, feeling sick, you could always let me take over ”, he spoke.

“ if i could choose between you and my pet dog navigating the nebula, i choose my pet dog. and he passed away last year. that’s how much i won’t trust you, or anyone, with my ship ”, hope snapped back quickly, swerving her chair around to face the pirate captain. he had changed into some new clothes, he looked less dead than a couple of hours ago but the bruise on his cheek still remained.

enzo seemed at a loss for words for a moment, until he seemed to gather some. “ i was just offering, jeez. but uhm, quinn told me you were hunting someone down. why do we have to stay on the ship?”, he questioned.

“ because i said so. ”

watching his reactions was rather amusing, he exuded such confidence but would then become flustered when the trail of the conversation didn’t seem like it was going his way. if anything, it was funny. “ how about an actual reason, captain? ”, he asked.

“ i just gave you one. ”

“ no, i mean like a proper answer. we could help you, you know. we’re capable fighters. i mean, minus little dawn but still! we can help, all you can do is give us a plan and we’ll follow it, simple and clean, no worries about it! ”, enzo sounded so optimistic that hope almost didn’t want to reply.

“ pirates don’t do simple and clean, i swear ”, hope commented, tilting her head and seeing the energy draining from enzo’s face, his hands dropping to his side whilst his eyes simply rolled. “ i can’t understand why you came here expecting to mingle with my issues like we’re a team or something. i’m a solo bounty hunter, i don’t need help. let alone help from pirates who all have bounties. but if you want to step outside and get caught, be my guest. but i’m still taking you darlings to pluto and i’d recommend not dying on the way there. ”

enzo grunted, “ okay. but if you end up getting hurt, we won’t have anyone to take us to where we have to be. ” 

hope blinked slowly. “ you can take the space bus. teleporter. gate-ways. fuck’s sake, man, it’s not rocket science. but if you’re so fond of my ship, keep out of trouble whilst you’re on it! ”, she argued back quickly. he made an injury to hope sound like the end of the world.

“ yeah, but . . . ”.

“ whatever your concern is, it’s irrelevant to me for the time being. so, before i lose it, i suggest getting out of the cabin. do what you want but just don’t go into my room or the basement ”, she explained firmly, and then waved him off in a dismissive manner. “ go, shoo. ”

he looked like he had more to say, but whatever those words were, they were left unspoken as he turned and walked towards the elevator and soon disappeared from the room. sighing into her hands, hope began to massage her temples.

she wasn’t used to having people around, so she found herself snapping rather frequently. she didn’t realize how much she disliked it until now, but in a single second, she found herself giving less of a fuck. because she didn’t have to be friends with them, and she didn’t have to treat them like there could be any bond between any of them. 

so the guilt which she felt vanished within a second. 

realizing that she would have to get changed into her gear, hope continued to leave nebula on auto-pilot and programmed a speed boost in around thirty minutes. a speed boost would surpass the speed of light and bring those millions of miles between nebula and jupiter’s surface down to a couple of seconds of traveling. and not to mention the fact that the gas giant’s gravitational pull was tyrant-like, it would be like teleporting to the surface.

after leaving the navigation cabin, hope descended down to her room, the iron doors sliding open upon detecting her presence and she looked at her vacant bed and then towards her closet. snapping her fingers, the closet door swung open and a holographic screen followed. 

“ what kind of clothes are you looking for today, hope? ”, a.j’s voice boomed through as the doors slid closed behind her and as she moved towards the wardrobe.

“ usual hunting clothes. depending on the weather, i might bring a jacket just in case. but i doubt it’ll be cold at j-colony ”, hope spoke. from the holographic screen, she went through her clothes and picked everything, from black crop top down to the baggy, military jackets in black and grey. even the boots with jets on the soles. “ my jacket’s been washed, right? ”.

“ yes, all of your clothes were washed and dried during your small nap. your shoes have also been polished and the jet on the boots you’ve chosen has been fixed. ”

“ wonderful ”.

after her clothes were delivered to her, she reached for the bottom of her top and slowly slipped it off, figuring that it was safe to do it but that’s when she heard the door open and her eyes flickered over to the door. dom had walked in without even announcing he was there.

when their eyes met, hope just saw his eyes flicker down and a slight redness that reached his cheeks. she was only in her sports bra but somehow it invoked a reaction of embarrassment from dom’s face. 

“ uhm. ”

“ do you practice the art of walking in on people whilst they’re changing? ”, hope asked rhetorically, averting her gaze back to her clothes as she put her vest to the side and then put on the comfortable crop top that had a very nice turtleneck detail to it. 

“ n-not exactly, but, uhm, dawn is asking where you keep all of your medical kits and if she can have a look. she has no resources and enzo’s bruise is still purple ”, he actually turned away, so hope continued to change comfortably. she lacked that self-awareness and sense of embarrassment. quite frankly, she didn’t have to hide when he had been the one who waltzed in like he owned the place.

hope rose a brow whilst attaching her straps around her trousers and then her belt and pouches. “ the bunks have storages on the side. i don’t go in there so the medical kits in the cupboards and shelves are still there ”, she explained. then came her jacket, navy blue in color which somewhat matched the navy blue of the voyage badge pinned to it.

“ not to be rude but your ship seemingly hides everything, that room is bare except for the bunks and the huge ass window looking out into space ”, dom continued. hope turned and walked to him whilst adjusting her belt. he seemingly took notice of her and jumped slightly. “ so if you could give better directions, we might be able to find it. ”

“ on the board of every bed, there’s storage space. if you tap against the board, it’ll open up and you’ll see all the medical kits and spare clothes and whatnot. maybe even the blankets that i keep stored just in case ”, the bounty hunter told him, exiting her room along with him and nodding towards where the rooms were. “ shouldn’t be too hard now, right? ”.

“ could have said it the first time ”, dom muttered under his breath. but hope chose to ignore it. seeing that he was walking away, she decided to say something before letting him go.

“ next time you decide you want to walk on me shirtless, knock. and pay me, i’m not a free sculpture at the museum ”, she called over to him and saw him throw a glare over his shoulder. hope chuckled amusingly, watching him disappear down the hall. “ asshole. ”

after that encounter, hope decided that it would be best to have a look around the ship to make sure all was working properly. checking the lounge, she found the t.v turned on and quinn listening to the news broadcast. the vending machines were on, many of the game tables were idle and ready to be used and mostly everything looked in place. deciding not to disturb quinn, hope left the lounge quickly.

then she checked the kitchen. all seemed to be in place, the dishwasher could be heard briefly but all was well. nothing out of place. and then after checking the basement and the storage space, hope decided to return to her navigation cabin. she recalled that the speed boost was happening in a couple of minutes, and the way enzo complained a while back that she should’ve told them when she was going to take off. 

it would be best to warn them about the speed boost, just case they got a slight shock from it. and besides, as far as she was aware, they weren’t expecting it. so she tapped the intercom mic present on the side of her chair and pressed the announcement button. 

“ listen up, everyone. in two minutes, nebula will use a speed boost. that inherently means that she’ll zoom in the direction of our friendly gas giant and when she does, you might feel a slight shake. and in case we suffer some wind turbulence, i suggest hanging onto something ”, hope told them. “ i will announce it just ten seconds before the real thing. i suggest preparing yourselves now. ”

perhaps they were aware of what a speed boost was, after all, they were pirates. but nebula’s engine had restored and she was faster than ever, especially with a speed boost. anyone with travel sickness may find themselves in a lot of trouble. it was why hope slipped on her seat-belt when the countdown came to fifty seconds.

and when the ten-second countdown came, she turned the intercom on once more with a smirk grazing her lips. her adrenaline rush always came from moments like these, where she truly felt like she was in control of something. even if it was a spaceship somewhere in the milkyway galaxy, it was still something she could control.

“ strap in, ladies and gentlemen. we’re now descending into jupiter. ”

time skip  ﹏ 

every time hope enters the atmosphere of another planet, she always goes through a series of chills and goosebumps all over her body. it’s a thrilling experience to be stepping into territory they didn’t think they were able to reach a hundred years ago. but mankind had taken more than a step now, it had taken a leap. and now, humans had invaded other planets, setting up a dozen colonies and extracting resources and truly beginning to learn about the universe. the planets we used to see only through telescopes, now before our very eyes.

jupiter, unlike many planets in the solar system, did not have a solid ground like their home on earth. it was a gas giant, composed predominantly of hydrogen and helium in its atmosphere. so you may ask, how did mankind touch base here?

that’s simple; they didn’t touch anything.

through a lot of hard work, they had managed to set up the floating colony, held up by energy that can easily be generated from the very winds of the planet. and considering there was no oxygen, the colony was covered by a dome-like cover providing visitors with the oxygen they required. it was truly something out of a sci-fi movie.

but it was reality, humanity had really taken huge leaps into improving living standards around the galaxy. whole apartments and forms of accommodation were made and built to fit the humans born when the earth couldn’t take anymore. that’s why humans left in the first place. resources began to lack and human populations would not stop growing. 

and that’s why huge colonies like j-colony take her breath away every time hope sees it. as nebula breached through the reds and oranges of jupiter, she thought the clouds were never going to clear. it was always storming season on this gas giant, but it never rained water like it did on earth. in actuality, it rained diamonds, so hope held her breath when small bits of crystals began to fall against the window she looked out of. of course, nebula could take practically anything. so it didn’t worry her too much, even though she would die if there were scratches on the window.

after shaking a bit, hope reeled the orientation stick back and forced nebula to lift up slightly instead of driving herself straight down. and soon enough, after about another minute of the diamond rain, her eyes brightened at the way the clouds cleared and there it stood, well, floated, j-colony.

it’s difficult to describe the appearance of j-colony without comparing it to the castle aincrad as it is depicted in that one anime you either love or hate. it was a floating metal structure that seemed completely resistant to the thundering winds trying to push it from its secured position. a floating city with many branches and other floating islands of metal scattered around. it was huge. it’s impossible to measure its size in numbers, it was simply enormous in every sense of the word.

“ nbla-43, do you have clearance to access the docks of j-colony? ”.

hope’s heart jumped in her chest as she respired out a sigh of relief, realizing that it was only the control and flight officers who were able to detect the arrival of every ship, even in ghastly weather conditions like these. they truly didn’t miss a thing, this stupid corporation.

“ yes. sending voyage inc identification details over ”, the bounty hunter exclaimed nervously, and then pressed a button. there were many buttons on the control panel, but she specifically chose a transmission option, sending the same details on the chip on her badge over through encrypted signals. usually, pirates wait around for someone to do something like hope is doing in order to reach out and swiftly snatch the details of a pilot. and upon acquiring these details, god knows what they’re capable of.

identity theft, to put it simply.

hope waited patiently for a reply and soon received one. “ thank you, hope. welcome to j-colony. please proceed to dock e, eastbound of the city ”, the voice seeped through and then disconnected, just like that. they were busy people, after all, accepting a dozen ships hourly.

just like that, hope sped nebula up and weaved in between many ships and other iron structures like communication towers and satellites, doing a fair lot of work to avoid damaging them. soon, she had reached the east docks. getting closer will startle you as you realize the city you were looking at was larger than you’d expected. hope felt like an ant even in the nebula in comparison to the size of this monolith. behemoth as it was, it was impossible not to feel intimidated by it all. 

approaching the docks, hope saw many ships, of all editions and brands, parked, restoring their fuel or merely parked with pilots happily stepping out with relief on their expressions. the docks alone were immense and seemed to go on forever, but then she found a vacant space. 

quickly, she parked nebula, allowing the folded iron legs to touch the ground and for the engine to relax. 

“ hope, would you like to have my battery restored? ”, a.j’s voice swept through smoothly as the bounty hunter took off her belt and then rose from her chair. “ i’ll be idle but you have everything planned out, correct? ”.

“ ‘course. don’t worry, you can be idle for as long as it takes you to be fully recharged. see you later, sultry man ”, hope teased and chuckled when the idle jingle played, meaning that a.j would be inactive for a couple of hours. this usually causes her to panic because she doesn’t have the compass to guide her. but she had it all planned out. she had around an hour to be where she had to be, and she had paged for a hoverbike and from the movement that she heard outside, it was being brought to her. 

so upon collecting all the required tools and her preferred weapon, she took the elevator down to the exit. she didn’t really care to tell the pirates that she was leaving, they already knew what they had to do and what the right thing to do was. if they went against it, it wouldn’t really be her fault. but she prayed that perhaps they would. that they would stay out of trouble.

the exit and entrance hatchet opened and nebula’s flight of stairs touched the ground. so hope descended the said staircase, taking a small inhale and exhale as she reminded her that all would be well. she’s been doing this for years. nothing could go wrong.

“ good evening, hope. we have your hoverbike here with us ”, a young fellow said as she approached. he wore the voyage uniform, a navy blue semi-formal jacket, and some decent black trousers. “ you said you’d need it for how long? ”.

“ for however long it takes me to catch a wanted criminal ”, hope replied simply, and then looked at the hoverbike. it was perhaps even sexier than her own spaceship, no offense to nebula. it’s difficult to describe the complex shape of the vehicle, but the lack of wheels and the smooth metal and details that it contained was something worth staring at. “ aww, you even chose the model i requested for. ”

“ we tend to show special treatment for prolific bounty hunters here. j-colony is huge, so hunting criminals here is perhaps the hardest thing we have to deal with. just know that we’re very pleased you decided to take up the bounty for crimson. he’s been running around causing mayhem for ages. we need him to go, immediately ”, the young man explained with a meager shrug. 

“ uh-huh. right, well i won’t be gone for long. i’ve been hunting this guy done for ages. now, if you’ll excuse me ”, hope began and then found a helmet being handed to her. the lack of metal on it was concerning but the design was lovely, especially after realizing it contained a gps and map feature that would make things a whole lot better. “ oh, thanks. ”

“ take care, hope. ”

nodding, hope watched the young man walk away to make another delivery. she slipped on her fingerless gloves and pressed a sensor on her wrist, it would connect her with nebula and her status, making sure nothing has been damaged and that most importantly, that no one in there would leave. putting the helmet on, her vision wasn’t at all affected by the holographic map and compass that came up against the glass. it made everything feel proximate and precise, just what she wanted.

hope hummed and rose an eyebrow, impressed. it was clear that she was. in fact, she made a mental note to get her hands on a hoverbike herself. and a helmet exactly like this one. 

“ well, let’s go, shall we? ”.

it didn’t take exactly too long for hope to get the hang of the controls on the hoverbike. as soon as her hands touched the handgrips, the engine seemed to roar to life and the rear end of the vehicle rose. hope gulped at the uncomfortable height in which it rose, but knew comfort was the last of her worries. she had fifty minutes to get where she had to be.

of course, being in a tense situation, hope needed to unwind. it was why before she even began to drive, she pulled up a song-player and typed in her needed track. especially in a situation like this. it’s not every day she can explore the j-colony. so might as well do it in style!

blinding lights by the weeknd, if that’s not a more appropriate track, she doesn’t know what is. 

soon after starting the song, the hoverbike was moving. hope wrapped her fingers tightly around the handgrips as it moved. first, it moved from the docks, following blaring signs telling her of the directions she needed. the docks were enormous, but that’s when she spotted something which seemed like a high road in the distance, with vehicles passing frequently. approaching the said road, she looked towards both sides. one side led to the residence quarters, and the other towards the inner city.

and the inner city was where she had to be. so she dipped as soon as there was space to fit into the road. and gradually gaining speed, hope took a right and soon found herself flying through a clear, straight road that led directly under a bridge of some sort, it drove into the huge structure and hope wondered just how long it would take for her to exit these docks.

but it didn’t matter too much. she had time. and she was in a particularly good mood now. as worried as she was about those pirates, she needed to sort her priorities. the hoverbike was picking up speed as it now headed into a tunnel, the ceiling and walls decorated with white, neon lines which were probably there more for decoration rather than for avoiding accidents. it was like entering a dream sequence as her eyes followed the lengthy lights, she blinked maybe once or twice upon tearing up. 

so she stared ahead instead, choosing not to stare for too long in case it damaged her eyes. her eyes flickered to the map. she had typed in the coordinates for the wanted location and it was a good ten minute ride from her. so she sped up, wanting to get there just in case crimson chose to come early.

the tunnel soon came to an end, and hope audibly gasped when light broke through and she found that the road cleared . . . no roof, no walls, but that’s when she saw the glass and realized the road had been enclosed by a tube of some sort. but it did a good job of making her believe that she was standing freely in jupiter’s atmosphere. 

the orange and red clouds, the falling diamonds, it was a mixture of different elements that made for a lush painting of some sort. her eyes widened as they continued to gawk at the view, she saw lightning in the distance and her adrenaline bolted through her veins in an instant. oh, the idea of taking nebula on a ride near the great red spot . . . it was a suicide mission but it would satisfy her daredevil antics. 

now picking up speed, hope weaved in between vehicles; buses, cars, more hoverbikes. her eyes flickered over a plastered ad on the side of a bus, a festival that would be taking place in j-colony. she wondered whether she would be able to come, it might be fun . . . but the world was calling and she couldn’t ignore it.

the road carried on for miles and miles, her eyes were aching from the many tunnels she continued to travel through until the exit of the last tunnel gave birth to perhaps the most beautiful sight hope has ever seen.

j-colony was the definition of metropolis heaven. the skyscrapers were too tall for her to observe with her eyes alone, a crane of the head was required to see every light from every skyscraper scattered among this landscape painting of dreams. enormous billboards were planted on the side of buildings, advertising all sorts of things. from food to the newest model of honda’s jet shoes, it was endless.

hope saw purples and reds and yellows and blues, even some colors which she can’t even name. but she knew one thing, they were beautiful. that’s when she noticed people. they walked on side-walks, on the bridges hung over this insane road, normal people accustomed to a world of dazzling lights. 

it was so vibrant and colorful that hope didn’t even realize she had to take a sharp turn to the left until the map’s red dot began to beep. “ oh, shit! ”, she cursed and swiftly indicated before cutting left, hearing various beeps behind her but she didn’t think to apologize. she sighed, that’s what happens when you get caught up in the beauty of cities like these. 

cutting left, she took another main road but that’s when she began to see things that were expected. shops, dozens of shops with neon lights inviting guests in with obscure shop names. hope saw shopping malls, cinemas, game centers, arcades, it seemed to go on forever and ever. and to be fair, she never wanted it to stop. 

hope looked to the top corner to her helmet and saw that she was getting closer to her red spot, her required location. so she sped up, not wanting to waste any time. humming along to the song that would soon be coming to an end, she cut a right and then another right and soon, she had reached what seemed to be a shopping district, with a towering fountain in the middle of it. of course, she couldn’t take the bike there so she had to find a parking spot. and it didn’t take too long for that to happen.

upon parking, she turned the engine off and craned her head up for a hot second, just to view the nearby skyscraper whose billboard was playing an a.i advertisement, one recommending owners to give a.i’s appearances, but upon seeing the price of the installments, hope chose to go without.

so, now she had arrived at her target location. seeing around, she realized that it wouldn’t be too easy to spot crimson even if he was wearing the most camp outfit imaginable.

except, upon checking her notes, she had spotted that crimson tended to wear obscure hair colors, ranging from bright reds to blues and greens. but looking around, most people tended to do that as well. so she hoped that perhaps she would be able to recognize a suspicious figure with some bizarre hair color and assume it’s the guy she’s looking for.

and without a.j’s company, she was forced to wait patiently. her thoughts drifted to the pirates for a moment, wondering just what they were doing and imagining them doing anything else but going against her orders. they weren’t stupid, so perhaps they would be smart enough to dodge trouble.

but what if they went directly against her orders? what then? something in her bones told that it was too ambitious to trust those pirates. that she was being too optimistic and that she had more reasons to get rid of them than to keep them around. for years, she’s been riding solo and has prevented catastrophic, career-ending events because she never allowed herself to trust anyone or work alongside anyone.

she was throwing her trust on the table, but now she wished to withdraw it.

hope suddenly felt something against her wrist vibrate. her tracker had scanned the area and found someone fitting crimson’s profile, something she had set it to do automatically in case she got distracted by something else. and by the looks of things, that just happened. she got distracted by her worries over the pirates.

looking at her helmet map, she spotted a blue dot. and it was moving, closer to her and the fountain that she was looking directly. her stomach dropped when she spotted a male, she couldn’t exactly tell how old but he was young, his way of walking was with plenty of confidence, something she found odd. but that’s when she spotted the bubblegum blue hair and the mouth-mask he’d chosen to wear. a red mask. 

and as they say, everyone criminal is vain enough to have an item of identification. her blood was suddenly boiling as she lifted herself from the hoverbike and looked at this walking figure, he threw a glance over his shoulder and upon reeling his head back, he seemed to have locked eyes with the bounty hunter.

hope didn’t look away.

and neither did he.

except for when he took off running. and hope bolted, jumping to her feet and beginning to chase after the fleeing criminal. her feet were aching to get some exercise, and quite frankly, as much as she hated running, she felt like she was going to like it as soon as she gets her hands on this fool. 

he was weaving in between the crowd, but her tracker remained on him, so she didn’t think to remove her helmet anytime soon. and in case she needed to, she could summon the hoverbike quickly to speed up the chase. 

at some point during the chase, hope was right on his ass. and she didn’t know why she didn’t grab him or just shoot him, it was probably because she didn’t want to assassinate this guy in the middle of the public eye. she wasn’t the type to disrupt established ways of living. and life in the j-colony had a happy buzz, one which she didn’t wish to spoil.

but she still needed this fool dead.

she didn’t recall how long it took but soon, they were out of the public eye as he dipped into an alleyway and hope continued to give chase after him, mostly because she was so close to getting what she finally wanted and needed it to be a clean kill. otherwise, it wouldn’t be over. of course, the alleyway a dead end.

and crimson turned, his eyes wide and angry. “ you’re fitter than the last one who chased me. which was around . . . a day ago ”, his voice was deep, harnessing power and heart but there was a sense of sarcasm to it that she couldn’t help but like. “ uh, you’re here to arrest me, right? ”.

“ being arrested stopped being an option the last time, in which, i believe, you broke out of police custody and managed to hide in the city and hold out until the storm passed. impressive, but i’m not here to arrest you ”, with that, hope pulled out her pistol and with a click, held it towards the criminal. “ i am here to claim the reward for your bounty. ” 

and his face went pale. why he wasn’t fighting back was unbeknownst to her. and so she was careful because it was suspicious. “ o-oh. well, uh, i hadn’t planned my death until a couple of years time but i suppose . . . i should give in ”, he spoke and hope decided that this guy was way too stupid to be a criminal.

but then she heard something behind her. a beeping of some sort. and her eyes widened. going into an alleyway with a dead-end, the fact that he wasn’t fighting back, the beeping of what seemed to be an explosive device.

her heart dropped. it was a trap. 

hope gasped and ducked for cover and the spark lit and before she knew it, boom! right behind her. she felt the heat against her back and saw the smoke rise but even through it, she could spot crimson breaching for an escape using jet boots. but he wasn’t getting away, not like that!

she aimed up and fired a ray, one which just barely hit his left shoe and even through ringing ears, she could hear him scream. and it was a loud one. she watched him begin to descend and eventually meet the ground again, but then she heard chatter through the smoke and bit her lip. if it was the authorities, she was in for a good scolding. and she hadn’t even killed her target yet!

hope groaned and slowly picked herself up, her skin was scorching from the heat and she could barely breathe through the smoke. but then it began to clear, slowly. and then she saw figures emerging, the owners of the chatter.

oh, how her blood began to boil when the pirates showed up. 

she couldn’t believe it! she didn’t even have to be told what had happened because she could almost just assume. they had set up explosives, explosives when she was still in the alleyway. and it didn’t even kill her target because even he saw the explosive. and he dodged it and tried to flee! ugh!

“ i know, i know, thank me later. you got him, right? ”, enzo spoke first, arms wide with an overbearing amount of confidence. but when he spotted her barely able to pick herself off the ground, his face fell. “ uhm. ”

“ you didn’t ”, the criminal himself voiced, grunting and picking himself up. “ i mean, bounty hunter girl, if these guys are your teammates, i suggest getting better ones, the explosive was so obvious, seriously. it doesn’t take a second pair of eyes to even see it! ”.

“ they’re not my teammates ”, hope growled, head hanging low as she tried to stand up, her muscles were aching for rest but she refrained from caving into the pain. 

“ ah, that explains it. well, uh, if they’re not your teammates, you won’t mind if they’re gone, right? ”. she barely had time to furrow her brows in a frown when crimson pulled out a gun and suddenly fired a bullet up, hope yelped and covered her ears when she realized that he hadn’t fired mistakenly. he had fired at something.

another explosive.

hearing the pirates react and take cover, she caught sight of crimson before he started to run. and she threw herself at his feet, latching her arms around his legs and sending him plummeting down to the bare, concrete ground. she held him down as best as she could, searching for her gun but it didn’t come to hand.

oh god, her gun!

she grunted when he started to get up again, his feet fighting and kicking and she craned her head back to avoid receiving a boot to the face. she managed to hold him down long enough to reach for the knife attached to a harness around her leg, letting it out of its sheath.

except before she even dared to deliver a mighty blow, she felt an elbow meet the side of her head and her vision went for a moment, blurred and confused, her sense of orientation haywire. but hope fought to remain conscious, she couldn’t let a criminal escape! 

yelling, she grasped her knife, propelled and stabbed downward. all she heard was a fatal roar of anguish from the crook beneath her, and even with a stab wound, he persevered. but then she delivered a stab near the chest and another cry rung out. and upon stabbing a final time, a wavering howl was heard.

and beneath her, crimson went limp.

hope let out a loud breath and dropped the bloodied knife, and then realized the warm substance that covered her hands. blood. crimson red, covering each finger without failure. her stomach churned, her squeamish antics ticking and her vision continuing to blur with each passing second.

she was going to faint, she thought, but something in her kept on fighting, mostly the growing feeling of success after she realized this crook was finally dead and that she could alert the authorities. but she couldn’t do it now.

her eyes, hooded and seething with rage, rose to meet that of the figures who came out from behind the hiding spots. her blood was beginning to boil all over again, adrenaline pumping and her murderous ego willing to take hold again. 

but she kept herself from lashing out. for now.

“ you. you, you, you and you. back to the ship. right. fucking. now. ”

[selfdulgent-selfinsert]

Caught in the Middle. (A self-indulgent, reader insert) Chapter 25:

((AH thank you for being so patient for this chapter! I have been stuck on it for a while and finally got it to come out a way that I liked. I hope it’s worth the wait! xoxox -Kei))

The shattered cement under your feet hurt like hell. You’d only turned a corner and BOOM Joseph. He was walking around a school bus, seeming to inspect the yellow lug. Sebastian strode forwards, you in hand. “Thank god you’re alright.” Seemingly forgetting your previous encounter until you hesitated in stride. Sebastian stopped, looking back at you. Josephs' face was written with pain, yet he didn’t speak. Just looked upon you with what you couldn’t determine between sorrow and pity. “(Y/N), I…” Joseph trailed off his voice a quiet croak; he didn’t dare reach for you. Fearful of his own control, Joseph still wasn’t sure how he was able to commit such an act and honestly didn’t remember much of it.

Like a blackout, he was dead to the world but the evidence of his crime stuck out in his mind since he came to. He felt like a monster but was certain you felt much, much worse. Cowering behind Sebastian slightly, your mind unsure who exactly was in front of you. Wanting with all your heart to believe the Joseph you met would never be back. Sebastian squeezing your hand which brought you back. Taking a deep breath but still staying behind Sebastian you gave a small silent wave to Joseph. He nodded. Still unsure of what really transpired you stood quietly, leaving the men to talk amongst themselves.

“How did you get here?” Sebastian starting the conversation up again.

“It wasn’t easy… At least I haven’t had any more, uh…” A pregnant pause. “Episodes.”

Joseph holding a sorrowful tone in his words. It felt as if he wasn’t trying to skirt around it. Like he wanted to make sure he was speaking properly about what had been happening to him.

“I wish I could say the same…”

Sebastian trailing off; his statement shocking you. Really you certainly had to be wary of everyone, but part of you felt like Sebastian had more control then Joseph. At least over these episodes considering you had experienced more of Joseph succumbing to S.T.E.M. Another heavy pregnant pause before Joseph perked up slightly. His voice was brighter. “Hey, I think I may have found us some transportation. Turning the school bus behind him. Entering the bus behind the two discussing if it would run or not, you swore you could hear the growing sound of clacking. The noise soon coming onto the bus as Julie scrambled into the vehicle cursing loudly as she slid into the driver’s seat and tried to forcefully start the engine.

“What are you doing?!” Sebastian’s voice going higher in surprise. Approaching her casually.

“Answer me Kid—“

The bus jolting awake and throwing Sebastian and you forwards as the motion cut him off. Giant spider legs stomping into the earth beside the bus. You screamed loudly. Shrieking in pure terror and grabbing onto Sebastian fully. It had to be a spider. FUCK.

Like seriously you don’t jive with something that has way too many fucking eyes and TOO MANY GOD DAMN LEGS BITCH WHAT THE FUCK.

Kiddman navigating the bus out of the tight cornered warehouse you had found yourself in. Hearing the abomination roar in a way too human way, your head whipped back. In place of your worst fear was a horrid mix of man, machine and spider barreling after you. The beast caught hold of the thin metal roof with its gross spider leg and began ripping the bus like a tuna can. Sebastian made quick work of you and had you stash away under the seats of the bus as he and Joseph readied to fill the monster with bullets. Julie trying in vain to separate the group from its grip. Watching from your hiding spot on the floor as the bus bumped and swerved about. Guessing the bus was freed until you came to a dead stop inside another building. Peeking out from under the seats as Kiddman spoke about not being safe for long.

A metal box came flying from the sky as the more common beasts filled in from the sides, aiming explosives for you while the three officers worked hard to dispatch the new offenders. Retreating under the seat hoping no explosive would make its way inside; the bullets seemed to go on forever, you had to cover your ears as the closed space was making one hell of an echo. A large explosion seemed to trigger in front of you as Joseph remarked on the situation. The combustion clearing a path in front of you.

You could already feel the new bruises forming on your beaten frame as the now truck bed platform with sheets chugged along. The huge spider monster ambushing you from the sky and sending your head cracking into the seat above you. You were really getting tired of this. It plunging its appendages into the metal of the bus and rocking the contraption from side to side. It even began producing maggot like offspring that chewed furiously at the men. Thankfully dispatching them before the horrid bugs found you. The monster becoming frantic in its attacks, jumping up onto the bus and reeling back in an attempt to strike many times as Kiddman sped through the streets. The only savior being a large, sturdy overhead tunnel which decapitated the creature and ended its terror.

The group heaving a heavy sigh of relief but the air still held baited breathe and Sebastian helped you out and onto the seat, you had previously been cowering under. Joseph across from the two of you. Holding yourself close to Sebastian and massaging your new wounds gently; he slung an arm around your shoulders. “Where are we heading, Joseph?” His voice rumbling into your chest. “I’ve got a theory. We seem to be moved around an awful lot. Almost as if by someone’s will. It’s nearly impossible to get any sense of geography around here. But the light, Beacon Mental Hospital. It’s always in the distance…”

Joseph flashed a sketch of the S.T.E.M. System. “That thing you found me in, I’ve seen it in multiple places.”

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah so have I. It seems like the exact same one every time but it’s hard to be sure. You weren’t sure when to jump in the conversation.

“Every time I run across one I seem to be closer to the lighthouse… It could be a coincidence but like I said, it seems as if there’s some intelligence behind it.” Your sigh was heavy in response.

“So we should just cut straight to the hospital?”

“Exactly.”

You were unsure if you had previously spoken of your knowledge; they were certainly speaking as if they hadn’t. Joseph stood, going up to Julie and directing her, Sebastian squeezing your shoulder. “You okay (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, just a little more beaten and battered but I’ll get by. I’m just glad it wasn’t an actual spider.” Laughing lightly, Sebastian joined in with you. Enjoying the lighter moment as the breeze ruffling your hair. But one last gunshot rang out. A sniper shot had pierced Joseph in the side as he recoiled in pain. Sebastian shouting and helping his partner to a seat; your instinct kicking in and overriding any hesitation as you vaulted to his seat and began assessing his injury. Sebastian screamed at Kiddman to get everyone out of the area. You could hear the blood in your ears pump through your veins. It was relaxing as you couldn’t hear the world around you and just focused on what needed to be done. Joseph was writhing so hard it was difficult to tell. The bus stopped and upon looking up you saw an ambulance with its lights going beyond a sea of abandoned cars. Sebastian left for it, dashing in its direction as you returned to Joseph.

It wasn’t a clean shot through, the bullet was still lodged inside. Causing more pain was inevitable as you felt around his abdomen for ruptures, shatters, fluids that didn’t belong there. From what you could feel it seemed like he ruptured a large organ. Fluid leaking from the wound was not typical and it stank of intestinal digestion. Doing your best to keep Joseph from digging into the wound himself, praying Sebastian could get there fast. You could barely hear the heavy gunfire over your rushing blood.

Finally, Sebastian returned, joining you in patching up Joseph the best you could, fishing out the bullet lodged in his body rather easily. As you were finishing packing his hole with gauze, the bus began moving again. Swerving and speeding down the street, but this was different, the bus started lifting vertically into the air to the point where you all were hanging on for dear life, rotating off an overpass and careening into a building. Being knocked off into the rubble as the bus skid ahead of you, Joseph and Sebastian. Falling off into the abyss.

The carpeting you had landed on looking awfully familiar. Head darting up to the decimated walls of your apartment building. The familiar kitsch of the halls bathed in grime and destruction. You noticed a newspaper scattered on the ground the front headline showing the Victoriano Mansion burnt to the ground. Ruviks’ house burnt to ashes the day after he went missing… You stood up, the garish red and yellow walls contrasting with the navy blue carpet you’d come to call home.

Sebastian took your hand again as you reached out for him. Peering over the ledge where Kiddman and the bus had fallen.

“There’s no way to even see her…”  Your voice was soft as it traveled into the distance.

“What on earth could have done this?” Joseph trailed off as you all took in the vast destruction of Krimson city. A distant subway train strung between two juts of the earth like a tether preventing two ships from drifting apart in the night. You knew in your heart it was Ruvik; the scope of his ability spread out before you, clear as day. If you hadn’t woken up to his malice before you sure had now. Sure this was S.T.E.M. so there couldn’t be any real people besides the handful of you that weren’t monsters… Right? You swallowed hard.

“Let’s focus on getting out of here… That subway train could potentially get us across that gap...”

“Sebastian… Assuming there’s nothing in our way to it, you’d be absolutely insane to try and cross something like that.” Your voice breaking the quiet after trailed off.

“Let’s just concentrate on getting out of here.” Joseph spoke confidently as he turned to look at you, then Sebastian. Both men turning and proceeding to scour the decimated environment for supplies and a way out. You kept fixated on the train; dangling between two the two outcroppings of buildings and torn metal. It was a taunting addition to the skyline, both becoming and threatening. You could imagine it swaying precariously in the wind as its worn joints became weaker with each passing minute.

A sudden gunshot sent you recoiling to cover your ears. Turing to see Sebastian shooting into an empty elevator shaft as he lowered his gun. “This way.” Sebastian mumbled before descending a service ladder and walking across an elevator. The contraption shifting as he picked up his pace to make it over to the lower level. Just as he made it safely the elevator screeched as its metal scraped down the wall, sliding into the darkness below. Separated from Sebastian, Joseph readied as if he was going to try and leap across the gap. “No, don’t risk it. Stay with (y/n), keep her safe.”

Joseph nodded. Stepping batch from the ledge, realizing you perhaps would have a hard time doing such a feat let alone himself. Your palms were clammy; part of you still in fear of what had happened last time the two of you were alone. Could it happen again? Ruvik would probably be so inclined to. He was vile enough to do it the first time so what would stop him now? “Hold on, I think I see another way down. We’ll meet you on a lower level, Sebastian.”

Sebastian disappearing from sight as he slipped into an air vent, you turned to Joseph. He could see the panic in your eyes as your thoughts swirled around. “Here.” Joseph presented you with the handle of his gun. His hand gripping the barrel as he held out his weapon to you. “I – I don’t know if I could…” He trailed off. HIs eyes looking down in shame as he shifted on his heels. “Just in case; I want you to be able to protect yourself from any threat. Including me.” His tone was grim but you took the pistol. It was heavy and cold in your bare hands. Joseph also handed you all his ammo, even some in boxes labeled for the shotgun strapped on his back. You shoved them into your sweater pockets. Thankful to have the garment back as this dress, like many others lacked pockets. Joseph spent a few minutes showing you how to work that gun, turning off the safety and how to reload. It was helpful, you weren’t really good at the whole point and shoot outside of videogames. It was kind of nice too, it helped you calm down a little feeling more confident in your ability to protect yourself and to see the Joseph you knew once more. You could feel your heart rate calm. Proceeding to try and find your own way out of the building led you to a doorway blocked by a heavy vending machine. There was a tiny space where it had been propped up by the wall it had caught on.

“Do you think you could squeeze through?”

You crouched down, the hole was much too small but the room on the other side looked empty enough to try and set the vending machine back upright or maybe even push it over. “You think we could push it over instead? It’s a little cramped.” Joseph nodded and extended a hand to help you up. Both readying in the small doorway to push. It moved but only slightly; a dull thud as it hit something immovable. Bending down once more, you peered further while leaning into the hole slightly. You couldn’t see anything. Joseph grunted and the venting machine lifted up. “Try – Try crawling through…” His words exasperated by the weight. Sliding forwards onto your hands and knees you carefully but quickly made your way under. You could feel a draft as your dress rode up sent your cheeks ablaze; praying that Joseph hadn’t seen. Standing on the other side, almost hitting yourself on a pipe jutting from the wall. It being the object keeping the machine from falling on its side. “You okay over there (y/n)?” gripping the bottom of the vending machine and bracing yourself. “Yeah, try and lift it Joseph. I can help from this side.”

Eventually, you both managed to get the machine upright, Joseph walking through to meet you. Offering his hand for a high five. You returned it with a loud smack, satisfying as it rang out in the hall. “Let’s keep going. We have to catch up with Sebastian.” You nodded. Your hands dropping as Joseph pulled his shotgun from his back. Continuing down the hall, guns in hand.

[sweethazzababy]

Prompt #36: “I ran out of gas and I have no fucking idea where I am. Can you come help me?”

Harry x reader

Word count: 2.8k (lol its kinda long)

Warnings: none, some fluff (it’s extremely cute)

Request a prompt!

A/N- thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun writing this one, and i’m so so happy with the way it turned out...it’s a lot longer than i expected it to be but i hope you guys like it!! :) requests are open, always!

Gonna take her for a ride on a big jet plane Gonna take her for a ride on a big jet plane Hey hey Hey hey

You hum along to the tune, quietly singing the words that you religiously memorized from countless listens. The car is the best place to listen to music, the bass blaring throughout the interior, letting the music consume your entire being. You’re on your way home from a friend’s house, taking the back roads since the highway traffic was too congested for you to willingly sit through.

It’s about half past 7, the sun close to setting for the night leaving the skies to be painted blues and pinks. The summer air is gradually getting cooler at night since autumn is rapidly approaching. You continue singing along to the words, until your car starts slowing down even though your foot isn’t close to touching the brake pedal.

“What the…” You mumble to yourself, flickering your eyes from the speedometer to the road in front of you. Your eyebrows pull together in confusion as your heart starts to beat a little faster, the nerves building up. Then, your eyes land on the fuel gauge. Empty. Before you can even comprehend what’s happening you steer your wheel to the right, coasting off to the shoulder until your car comes to a complete stop.

Sitting in silence, you feel like you can’t breathe as you start to hyperventilate at the situation, looking around frantically even though you have no idea what you’re searching for.

“No, no, no…” You whimper, reaching your shaky hands to grasp your phone. Searching through your contacts, you find your friend’s number and quickly press the call button. After a few seconds of silence and no ringing, you look at your wifi. No service. You let out a scream of frustration, banging your hands against the steering wheel but soon wincing afterwards from the pain. Stupid.

Great, you think to yourself. This isn’t exactly the way you pictured your death. After a few minutes of sitting contemplating on what to do next, you remember the convenience store you passed a mile back. You feel a sense of hope start to linger again, as you get out of your car with your keys, wallet, and phone. After locking the car you start to embark on your journey to the convenience store for help.

It's been about ten minutes, and you can see the store just 20 yards away. The sunlight is practically gone as dusk takes over, and you feel a chill. Rubbing against your arm for comfort, you look around and behind you, a little frightened. A young woman like yourself walking alone in the dark along an empty road? Not a good idea.

Once you set foot on the property of the convenience store, you let out a huge sigh of relief and your feet ache from the long walk. Walking inside, you frantically search for someone decent looking to help you, so you can get home and climb into the comfort of your bed. Walking around towards the snack aisle, your eyes land on a young man who looks like they are having trouble deciding between two different kinds of chips.

He’s wearing a plain white t shirt, but sheer enough to show off two swallow tattoos near his collarbones. He’s wearing loose light washed jeans, finishing off with a pair of black and white van sneakers. Ray bands are pushing back his locks on top of his head, and he is picking at his pink lips, studying the bags of chips before him. You snap out of your trance when he clears his throat, peering at you. At that moment you realize you were standing there staring at him like an idiot.

“Can I help you?” He asks, his voice a lot deeper than you expected.

“Uh-um…no…well, yes..I-uh, sorry,” You stutter, making a fool out of yourself but he chuckles to himself, clearly amused. You look at him again, and get a clearer look. Wait. You recognize his face. Where have you seen this face?

“You okay?” He speaks up again, this time a British accent is more noticeable and then it all clicks. Harry? Harry Styles?

“Wait—are you? Are you Harry Styles?” You lift an eyebrow, mouth slightly open in shock.

“I am, but if I’m honest I thought yeh knew that judging from the way yeh were starin’ at me like tha’.” Harry smirks, a playful gleam in his bright green eyes. You feel your cheeks heat up tremendously, and you immediately look down at your feet, rotating your ankle as you lean on your other foot.

“Sorry, I’ve made such a fool out of myself…” You chuckle with embarrassment, biting the inside of your cheek.

“No worries love, but are yeh okay? Yeh seem a little off kiltered.” Harry gazes at you, concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m good,” You reassure him, but then you remember the reason for even stepping foot into this place. “Well—I actually have a bit of an issue, so, no I’m not good at all actually…I-I don’t know why I said that I was good when really…I’m not—”

“Woah, woah slow down there.” Harry cuts you off mid ramble, walking closer to you, worry on his face. “Do you need help with something?”

“I mean kinda yes, but I don’t want to be a bother, you probably have way more important things to attend to—”

“Wha’, like choosing what bag of crisps to get?” He sarcastically remarks with a laugh. You roll your eyes, a chuckle slipping from your lips at how frazzled you are in this moment. “Now get to the point love, what is it yeh need?”

“I ran out of gas and I have no fucking idea where I am. Can you come help me?” You blurt out. You’re cursing at yourself in your thoughts as the previous conversation is running through your head and you’re realizing how much of an idiot you sound like. You’ve never been good in awkward situations which is why you tend to ramble and stutter like that. And the fact that you were talking to an extremely attractive celebrity, made it even worse.

“Now was that so hard?” Harry mocks, a grin spreading on his lips as you stand there desperate to go home.

“Funny. Thanks for the help!” You huff, glaring at him before you turn away on your heels, annoyed at the stuck up arrogance of an asshole.

“Wait, wait—” Harry grips your arm before you get away. “M’sorry that was rude, and you’re clearly in a desperate situation here. Let me help.” He apologetically pleads, his hand still gripping your arm.

“Thanks.” You sigh with a tight lipped smile.

“First things first, what’s yeh name darlin’?” Harry walks closer to you with a generous smile. Your heart flutters at the sight of his dimples, his green eyes sparkling towards you and his British accent oh so thick.

“Y/N.” You respond breathily, eyes locked on his. The tension building between you two is noticeable and Harry smirks when he sees the gleam in your eyes, taking an even closer step towards you.

“Y/N. Pretty name fo’ a pretty gal like yourself.” Harry flirts, making you blush even more. This situation is definitely something out of a movie scene, especially one that you least expected to happen to you of all people. You never had great luck with anything, life is always throwing all sorts of shit at you which is why you weren’t exactly surprised that your car decided to run out of gas. It was only a matter of time before it happened to you. But in this moment, you’re pretty thankful it did.

“You certainly know your way around words, don’t you?” You coaxed, the corner of your mouth lifting into a lopsided smile. You dig your hands into your sweatshirt front pocket, rocking on your heels.

“I like to think m’poetic. As a songwriter like m’self, I kind of need to be.” Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling even more at the flirty banter happening between the two of you. “Now, enough about me, shouldn’t we get some fuel for your car?” You nod, laughing at how distracted you got. He lifts his sunglasses up and runs his ringed fingers through his hair before resting his sunglasses down again. Mesmerized, your heart skips a beat at such a simple action. His hand rests on the small of your back as Harry leads the way, walking towards the door. After opening it and letting you out first like a gentleman, he shoves his hands in his jean pockets, searching for his keys. Clicking the unlock button, you see his headlights flicker. A fucking Range Rover. How did you not see it walking in? Harry notices your expression and chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

“Please don’t make a big deal of it, okay?” Harry remarked. “M’ just a regular guy helping a young woman with car trouble.” He settles, opening the passenger door for you. You sit down, and look around the interior of the car. Super clean, and smells like vanilla and peppermint. Harry gets in on the other side, starting the engine.

“S’awfully dark out, you managed to walk here by yourself?” Harry curiously asks as he pulls out of his parking spot.

“Wait, where are we getting gas?” You ignore his question, genuinely curious to know what his plan is.

“I always keep an extra tin of gas in my trunk. I advise you do the same.” Harry jests, and you scoff rolling your eyes. Belting out a short laugh, amused at your reaction.

“Hmm, maybe although it isn’t every day I run out of gas in the middle of a vacant road.” You sarcastically reply, a smirk forming across your lips.

“Where is your car, love?” Harry asks, snickering at your defensive reaction.

“Make a left out of the lot, and it’s about a mile down the road.” You point in the direction, and he nods steering the wheel to the left and pulling out of the parking lot. Harry turns his aux on, his phone connected. All of the sudden, guitars and drums start blaring through the speakers startling you.

She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect

You widen your eyes at the outburst of instrumentation, the rock and husky tone of the artist intriguing you. You look over at Harry, and see he’s trying to hide what looks like a devious smirk, his dimples showing near the corners of his mouth.

“Hold on…this is you isn’t?” You marvel, entertained by his choice of music and wondering if he actually listens to his own album on the daily. Harry starts snickering, picking at his lip again with his thumb and index finger.

“D’ yeh like it?” Harry asks, genuinely curious for your opinion. You listen for another thirty seconds before making your decision and you can’t help but feel a bit turned on by the song. You wonder how he is live when performing it.

“I love it, actually. It’s quite narcissistic of you to play your own song though, is it not?” You chuckle with a lopsided smile. His green irises are shining with pride, and his smile is wide and beaming. Your heart jumps, captured by his charm and good looks and you wonder how someone’s smile can be so contagious and adorable. Now you see why the fans go crazy over him.

“Wha’ I can’t take pride in my own work?” Harry counters, raising his eyebrows. You agree, letting the song run through your veins, closing your eyes and admiring his voice. Until he startles you, singing along.

“I THINK SHE SAID I’M HAVING YOUR BABYYYYY” Harry screams, singing along with his own voice. “IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESSSSS” You lean your head against the palm of your hand, your elbow leaning on the ledge of the door. Giggling, you look over at him who looks like he is having the time of his life bopping his head with a smile.

“Wow, Harry Styles’s biggest fan is himself who would’ve thought.” You joke, entertained at how happy he is while listening to the upbeat song. “You scared me too, screaming like that.” Your voice growing bubbly, trying to contain your grin.

“Your eyes were closed, darlin’. During a song like this, and to be honest yeh doin’ it wrong.” Harry remarked, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles widely again.

“I like to mentally take in the music before I thoroughly enjoy it.” You counter back, lifting an eyebrow. He lowly chuckles.

“Hmmm, smart girl.” He agrees, and you feel your cheeks blaze red even more at his words. “A bit of a music intellect aren’t yeh?” You blush once more, nodding in agreement at his assumption.

“Yeah, I guess. I hate when people can’t truly appreciate lyrics or instrumentation...the way a song is structured. Some songs make me feel so...tingly inside as weird as it sounds.” You ramble, the topic of music never gets old with you. You could go on and on about your favorite songs, and why they are so special. Harry attentively listens to you, humming in response, infactuated with your thoughts. You see your car in the distance, finally.  

“Oh, there’s my car!” You blurt over the music, pointing at the vehicle. Harry pulls over behind it and turns the car off abruptly ending the loud music and now, it feels too quiet. Before you can open the door yourself, Harry runs to the other side opening it for you making your heart skip a beat and your cheeks heat up from the kind gesture. He offers his hand to help you out of the car, and you take it feeling flustered. His hand is enormous compared to yours, but it feels comforting and warm. Feeling tingles all over your body, you step out and you feel like your knees could give out any second. You really hope this isn’t a one time thing with him.

Harry opens his trunk and picks up the red container of gas and strolls over to your fuel filler opening it to start putting the gas into it. You stand next to him as he fills it, awkwardly watching.

“Thank you, by the way. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would still be stranded out here.” You sincerely acknowledge, looking him in the eyes softly. He stares back at you, his twinkling eyes pouring into yours.

“I really like you Y/N.” He blurts out, eyes still locked on yours. Your heart starts to beat faster as he continues, “I know I’ve only known you for a very small amount of time, but I like bein’ around you. Yeh treat me like any other guy, rather than Harry Styles.” He expresses, putting air quotes around his own name. You smile genuinely, then look down at your feet from blushing too much.

“I really like you too.” You quietly say back, biting your bottom lip.

“I wanna get to know you more.” Harry admits, blush forming on his own cheeks as he gazes ar you with admiration. He’s looking at you like you’re someone so special to him, and you swear no guy has ever looked at you the way he does, despite only knowing him for about an hour.

“I want to get to know you too.” You agree, and he laughs, beaming a smile and he seems relieved that you feel the same way. When he’s done filling your tank, he puts the container down on the ground.

“May I see your phone?” He politely asks, and you unlock it before handing it to him. He types is information in, creating a contact for himself. You feel like your heart could burst any second, trying to contain the squeals threatening to leave your lips. When he’s done, he gives your phone back, again staring deeply into your eyes. Before you can say anything, he steps closer to you and leans in to kiss your cheek softly and you swear you stopped breathing for a second. His lips linger on your cheek, your heart thumping tremendously. Then his lips move to your lips, lingering over them as if he’s asking for permission to kiss you. You lean forward connecting your lips with his to finalize it, and he immediately responds one hand cupping your cheek while the other gently rests on your waist. Your hand reaches to the back of his neck, twirling his hair at the back of his neck with your fingers. The tingling sensation comes back again, only it’s much stronger this time as he moves his lips against yours, softly poking his tongue to meet yours deepening the kiss. His hand grips your waist tighter, leaning into you and you sigh against his mouth.

Parting from your lips, he opens his eyes to meet yours, his nose close to touching the tip of yours. The corners of his mouth lift slowly into a closed mouth smile, and he chuckles looking down, then back at you. The palm of his hand is still gently resting against your cheek, his other still resting on your waist.

“M’ sorry, I couldn’t contain myself.” He laughs, stroking his thumb soothingly against your cheek. You laugh too, feeling even more flustered but you want more of him.

You lean up to peck his lips once more. “Me neither.” You say with a flirty smirk.

“I wanna take yeh out sometime.” He offers, stepping back a bit as his hands leave your body and you hate the absence of his touch.

“I would love that.” You grin, biting your bottom lip again, a nervous habit and his touch is still lingering on your lips and you’re craving more. “Thank you again, I really appreciate it Harry.”

“No problem. I’m happy you found me.” Harry gushes, his smile never faltering. “Drive safe, okay love? Call me when you get home.” He winks, making you cackle at his cheesiness. You nod and say goodbye, getting into your car. Once your door is closed and he drives away with a wave, you squeal with a giggle in the comfort of your car.

Never have you felt more thankful for running out of gas.

[forever-more-never-again]

In My Dreams (Scene One/Fifteen)

*GIF NOT MINE*I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL*

Alright Roses! Buckle up! This was that DreamFic(tm) that I had mentioned before. I am no where near finished and it just continues to grow. I seem to have a thing for slow burn romances! OOPs! haha. Anyways. Here is the first part. Enjoy!

Pairing: Slow burn-Dean Winchester X Reader(1st person perspective)

Word Count:2183

Warnings: Supernatural style death and gore. attempted suicide, and swearing.

a/n: someone is always willing to talk if you are going through a rough patch in life. 

Scene One / Scene Two / Scene Three

Masterlist

“Huh?” I blinked a couple times, trying to clear my vision. Slowly, the shapes of trees came into focus. I glanced up at an open sky view, and realized that by the coloring and shadows that it was dusk. “What in the…?”

I stood, shocked and if I was to admit, a little afraid. I was not supposed to be in some woods in the middle of nowhere. I was supposed to be in my bed, in my college dorm room, taking a quick afternoon nap. “I’m dreaming. I have to be.”

But I couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense that this was all very, very real. “How did I even get here?” Talking aloud to myself helped calm my nerves somewhat. As I raised my hand to run through my hair, I got another shock.

I was not in the sweats and shirt that I had fallen asleep wearing. I was wearing my trusty, dusty cowboy boots, jeans which, to my confusion, had thigh holsters strapped around them holding twin ivory pistols and a wicked looking machete. I was also wearing a black crop top and a red flannel.

I felt my nose start to run and as I reached up to stop it, I saw a drop of blood land on my hand, “Aww Hell, bloody nose.”

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here.” The low sinister voice slithered down my spine. Slowly, I rotated to face the source of the voice. Standing next to a tree was a man. I was unaware of my own actions as my hands reflexively reached down and pulled out the machete.

This made the man in front of me smile. I looked him over in the moment of silence. He was about mid-thirties, wearing dirty torn clothes that looked like they once were part of a suit.

“What are you doing in these neck of woods darling? Don’t you know it’s dangerous to wander alone in the dark, no telling what you’ll run into.”

My eyes grew wide in horror as the man seemed to stalk towards me, his teeth..oh god, I thought, his teeth were shifting. They were becoming fangs!

My body appeared to act on some inner instinct as I twirled away from the man right as he lunged towards me. The machete felt like an extension of my arm as I swung it towards his neck.

He ducked at the last moment, staying low, he rammed his head into my stomach. The momentum had me flying through the air before landing on my back, knocking the air out of my lungs.

I let out a low groan. I knew I had some broken ribs from the amount of pain radiating from my mid section.

But I didn’t have time to cry because as soon as I had landed on the ground, the man leapt on top of me. His hands ground my shoulders into the dirt as he leaned towards my neck with his mouth wide, displaying his fangs.

“Didn’t take you for a hunter, sweetcheeks.”

I didn’t really listen to the man as he spoke, instead focusing on getting my machete turned in my hand. I bucked my hips, causing the man to loosen his grip on my shoulders slightly. It was enough for me to swing my arm up, neatly slicing his head from his body.

A look of shock was on his face as the head rolled away. I crawled out from under the, now dead, body. I was in shock for a moment, as the adrenaline coursed through my body.

“What the fuck? What!? THE!? FUCK!?” I gasped, pulling my knees to my chest, mindless of the pain, I flung the bloody machete away from me. My eyes glued to the head, fangs still prominent in his mouth. I was rocking back and forth on the ground, too lost in my panic to hear the footsteps approaching. “How did I know how to do that!? He called me a hunter? He was a vampire!? What the fuck is going on!?”

I reached up, tugging on my [h/c] hair, tears pushing to be released from my wide, [e/c] eyes.

When I saw a flash of plaid in my peripheral, I again, didn’t really have control of my own actions as I pulled out both of my pistols and aimed them towards the figures.

“Woah! Woah! We’re here to help. Not vamps. See!” The shorter of the two guys who had walked in on the scene widened his teeth in a ridiculous manner, pulling down his lip to show his gums. He raised his pistol towards the air before slowly putting it back behind him in his jeans.

I watched him wearily, my breathing still erratic, vision wavy due to the unshed tears. The guys looked real familiar but I couldn't place them. I looked towards the other man, my pistols still trained on them, even though I was on the ground and they were standing. I somehow knew that I could hit them square in the forehead if I wanted to. Which scared me to no ends, because I had never shot a pistol in my life.

The taller of the two did the same thing, lowering his weapon as well.

Slowly, I put my pistols back in the holsters at my thighs. “Where am I!? Who are you? What the hell is going on!?” I climbed back to my feet as I stared at the two, handsome men, if I were to admit it.

They both hesitantly walked towards me, “I’m Dean, this is my brother Sam.We were hunting down the Vampire. But it looks like you beat us to it.”

He gave a low chuckle as his words registered in me, hunting. The vampire had called me a hunter. Oh my god! Sam and Dean. My favorite show...supernatural.

The tall one with the shaggy hair and brown eyes interrupted my thoughts, “What’s your name?”

I pulled my bottom lip in by my teeth as I debated whether to give my real name or lie. I didn’t miss the flash in the green eyes of Dean as he caught me doing it. I promptly let go of my lips, praying my cheeks didn’t turn red. “I’m, uh, My name is [Y/n].”

That made both men freeze. I glanced between the brothers, worried, when Dean leaned forward, a look of awe on his face, “Not [y/f/n] [y/l/n]?”

I gave a self-conscious smile, wondering how he knew that, “Yes.”

Sam let out a large laugh, slapping his hand on Dean’s shoulder, “You had us going there with the whole panic thing for a minute. Can’t believe we actually have the chance to meet you!”

It was my turn to freeze. Dean noticed and nudged at Sam who was still laughing. When he saw what Dean had, he sobered up fast.

My voice came out small, “What do you mean? How do you know me? Where am I!? You two aren't real! You're actors!”

“Dean. I can sense no other Vampires in the area.”

“Agh!” My already frayed nerves snapped as the actor Misha Collins suddenly popped up next to the brothers out of thin air.

“Who is this?” It was Castiel’s voice, rough and gravely, as he did his adorable head tilt and eye squint. But I couldn’t fully appreciate seeing it in person as I started hyperventilating.

“Cas, this is [Y/n]. That amazing Hunter I was telling you about a while back. The one who is so good, she is practically a myth.”

“Stop saying I’m a hunter! I am just a college student! There are no such things as monsters in my world!”

The three men all looked at me in differing degrees of worry and confusion. I raked my fingers through my hair as I looked around.

“This is a dream. It has to be. You’re Jensen Ackles,” I pointed at Dean, “And you are Jared Padalecki,” I then turned to Sam, “And you,” I faced Castiel, “You’re Misha Collins and this deep gravelly voice is simply an acting style choice!”

I turned away from all of them as I struggled to take in deep breaths of air, “What’s that old wives tale?” I laughed aloud, hearing the unhinged undertone, I knew I was going into shock and becoming hysterical but I couldn’t seem to stop. “If you’re about to die in a dream, you’ll wake up?”

I pulled one of the pistols out of its holster and placed the muzzle against the side of my head. I heard Sam and Dean, no, Jensen and Jared, yelling and then there in front of me stood Castiel, in his trusty trench coat and suit. He raised his hand and placed it on my forehead and then the world went dark.

I drifted in and out of consciousness for who knew how long. Everytime I reached the surface of reality I felt soft leather against my face. I could hear the purr of a car’s engine and I caught snippets of conversations.

“What do you mean she’s not [Y/n]?”

“She said the names from that alternative universe, remember?”

“So what happened to the [Y/n] from this world?”

“How do we get her home?”

“We can’t keep her locked in the bunker!”

“We’ll figure it out, Cas said he could try.”

“He also said it might kill her, or him...or Both!”

The next time I regained consciousness I managed to stay awake. Pulling myself up to a sitting position I realized I was in a bed. In a small, homey room.

“Hello?”

I didn’t hear anything, so I tentatively stood up. “Oh my god!” First, I noticed that there was no pain from where I was sure my ribs were broken, then I realized I was not in the clothes I had been in before. Instead I was in an oversized Led Zeppelin shirt and my underwear. “How many times will I wake up in clothes that I don’t remember wearing?”

It was getting ridiculous, but I was also somehow accepting it. I looked around the simple room and saw my thigh holsters, pistols and machete sitting on a chair by a desk. I walked over and picked one up. I had a strange sentimental attachment to these weapons, I could feel it tugging at my heart. Even though I didn’t own twin ivory pistols, the emotion washed over me as I turned the gun over in my hand.

An engraving on the handle caught my eye and I rotated the gun so I could see it better. Justice.

I looked at the other pistol and saw an engraving with the word, Death, on it.

Hmm, Justice and Death. It suited the two guns perfectly.

“I thought You would be awake by now.”

I twirled around, the gun instinctively coming up to face the new intrusion. I sighed and let the gun fall back down to my side when I saw it was just Castiel, Misha.

“Please tell me you can explain what the Hell is going on. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

I let my hands graze over the gun in an anxious manner as I stared into the intense blue eyes in front of me.

“It is a little complicated, and you may not believe it. But we think that you somehow crossed an interdimensional line between your world and ours.”

I scoffed, “What? That’s insane. How could I cross anything when I was sleeping in my bed?”

Castiel tilted his head at this new bit of information, “That is interesting. I know about Dreamwalkers and Nephilim and their powers, and yet you are not either. The ability to transverse universes through dreams without any helping factors..hmm. And you are welcome for the fixed ribs.” He mentioned as he saw me rub my side.

I put the gun back down next to its partner on the chair, before standing up and crossing my arms. “So how do I get home? I have a math test tomorrow!”

Castiel fidgeted as my tone gained volume. “As of now, we do not know. I could try to take you back myself, but with no definite destination in my mind, the trip could potentially kill you or me.”

I threw my hands up in the air and started pacing in front of him, “So this is all real. The world of Supernatural the TV show. I somehow ended up in a Universe where its real. Damn.”

I flopped down on the edge of the bed, putting my head into my hands I sighed.

Castiel walked slowly until he stood in front of me, “Sam and Dean are good people. They will try everything they can to get you home again. Trust them.”

And before I could respond or say anything, he was gone in a woosh of air.  

“Damn, that will take some getting used to.” I raised my head in defeat and stared at the door in front of me. First, clothes, I thought.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Recruits.”

Wanted to do a little peace about what it would be like to join the crew of the harbinger. I hope you guys all enjoy :) 

“Alright maggots! Hurry up, hurry up, stop screwing off  and get our asses over here. This is the Space Core not a damned dog show. You there, yes you right there, stop staring gaped mouth at me like a beached fish, and get over here.” 

The young recruits hurried across the tarmac at Fort Landing.The massive interspace launch field was a good five mile square of landing pads and supply chains surrounding massive interstellar battleships resupplying and rotating troops on and off. Boots thudded against concrete as troops of marines and army grunts walked past in their differing shades of camouflage.

The young group of soldiers hurried up to the officer nervously glancing around at the ships most of them had never been aboard a ship before, and some of them had never even been out of the region much less into space.

A couple of nervous recruits stepped to the front of the line two in flight suits and another group of young soldiers being transferred in to augment one of the fleet. They had been told they would be placed on one of the outgoing intergalactic units, but none of them had any idea WHICH one they wanted. Of course they had read through the suggestions given to them by other crew members aboard the different ships, and byar the Harbinger was the most recommended, but it was also the most competitive, sought after, and most people who joined didn’t decide to leave any time soon, and so there weren’t often many openings.

Now none of them were exactly sure why the Harbinger was so great, aside from being at the forefront of intergalactic travel, and run by Commander Vir of the UNSC who was a little more than legend and just slightly less than myth. 

Otherwise it was also considered to be one of the most dangerous positions considering what they were doing out there. The crew was supposed to be interspecies with Delta units (also known as drev) on board.

There were rumors going around that the commander had managed to win himself the position of clan leader in a Drev contest of armed combat. Some said that he had defeated five armed Drev soldiers with his bare hands, though that thought was little more than conjecture and made anyone with a reasonable understanding of Drev just a bit skeptical.

Of course a few of them had been lucky enough to see an alien, though there were also some of them who hadn’t”

“Recruits Kimber, Alvarez, Han and McCaster!” The group of four recruits hurried forward, two young pilots one army engineer and one marine.

The officer eyed them up and down and shook his head, “Where the hell are they finding you guys these days scraping you off the back of a wet rock.” He flipped through the hologram on the flat of his hand, “Ah, here we go-” THey watched as his eyes widened a bit, and he stopped insulting them for long enough to look interested. He glanced up from his clipboard, “Well look at the four of you being all special. You’ve been requisitioned for the harbinger gonna go into deep space.” They glanced at each other in surprise, shock and excitement, “Hear they have some pretty freaky ass aliens on that ship, one bastard who can float and read minds or some shit, anyway get on the lot of you. They docked at landing pad A1 because they get special treatment, now GET GOING!”

With a muttering of surprise, they hurried off heading down towards the troop transports.

One of the young pilots leaned forward as they drove down the tarmac wind whipping past them as the sound of engines shook the ground below.

“Do you guys believe everything they say?”

The engineer turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, “Everything about what?”

“Everything about the Commander? Everything about the Harbinger.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, there is a ton of shit they say.”

The young pilot rolled his eyes, “Take your pick. That he ran a marathon on an A-1 death planet, that he's a telepath that can speak to aliens, that their doctor is an alien, that half the ship is drev, that he's mostly a cyborg, that they have alien pets, that he stopped an intergalactic war.”

Someone waved him off, “Obviously false.”

Another one of the recruits leaned in closer, “I heard the guy’s a extrial.”

“The fuck is an extrial.”

“You know one of those people who screws aliens.” 

“ fucking disgusting.”

“Dude, you serious?  leave them alone there is nothing wrong with that?”

“What ISN’T wrong with that?”

“Both parties agree besides I bet you screw your cousin so-”

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP.” They did as the marine turned around the glower at them, “Doesn't matter what they are or are not. We have to make a good impression. So shut up we’re almost there.” 

The troop transport came to a stop, and the four of them stepped out onto the tarmac looking up at the ship. It was big, blocky and dark looked like a much older model than some of the others sitting on the launch field, but what it lacked in beauty, it held in reputation.

At the moment it was busy being stocked by the people on the ground, though they did notice a group of people lounging around on some of the crates outside.

Staring at the ship, they didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, no aliens or anything… so far.

Awkwardly they walked towards the ship not sure where to go or what to do seeing as there were no officers to greet them. They were just heading past the crates and their lounging occupants when someone whistled.

“FRESH MEAT!” They were followed by heckling from the group sitting on the crates. They could have been marines or army grunts, but it was hard to tell. The group of them sat up both men and women.

One man in the middle slowly chewing n a piece of gum and wearing aviators making him look like he was trying to hard, “Hey, you four c’mere.”

With nowhere else to go, they approached slowly.

The group moved from lounging to sitting atop their crates.

“What are you recruits here for.”

They shuffled a little, “Two pilots a marine and an army engineer uh…. Sir?”

THe gum chewer grinned slowly nodding at one of the other guys, “Sir…. I like that makes me sound special.” He leaned forward, “Well they won't have anything for you to do until they are done loading the ship with cargo, so come on sit down and let's take a look at you.” 

All together, they were rather nervous, but they still came up and sat on the crates with who they learned to be were a group of marines.

A younger, tan young man leaned over and held out a hand, “Ramirez.” They shook the man’s hand nervously glancing towards the gum chewer behind his dark sunglasses who was grinning knowingly at them.“So two pilots, an engineer and a marine.” He glanced up at the sky, “Well go on let’s hear a little about you.”

Most of them didn’t really intend to say anything, but somehow Sunglasses managed to draw it out of them, had them talking until he had practically unraveled their life stories. It was almost disconcerting how the man could do that, and the  group of them were rather nonplussed by the time the conversation began to die away not entirely sure how they had gotten here.

“So, is there anything you want to know about the ship, the people, the perks etc etc.”

“Is it true that you have an entire Drev clan on the ship?”

Sunglasses grinned, “A good half of one at least maybe a dozen or so. An entire clan can be up to five hundred in one population, as many people as we have on the crew. So really I should restate and say that we only have a teth of a clan.” 

The group glanced between each other.

“What other aliens do you have on the ship?”

Sunglasses leaned back against the crate hands behind his head, “Oh well we have a few. There is Convict of course, he’s a starborn, watch out for that asshole, he can read minds. Don’t plan on having any sort of privacy. Than we have Krill, he's our surgeon, ask him and he will tell you he's the best in the galaxy maybe the universe. Then after that we have the spiderlings.”

“The what?”

“Well technically their presence is classified, but you will find out. Type of alien can incorporate the DNA of other animals into their own offspring, some asshole got himself stuck with an alien egg sack and now we have alien hybrids on the ship.”

“No shit.:”

“Yeah shit, not kidding with you. Watch out for the one named Glados, she's a real jerk sometimes, to everyone accept the Commander of course.”

“Tell us about him.”

There was a shifting among the marines as they looked between each other. Sunglasses glanced back at them grinning before, “That asshole, yeah don’t get your hopes up, he’s a tool at best and an idiot at worse. I mean the guy wears an eyepatch, like he thinks he's some sort of space pirate.”

The marines slowly began to grin, “yeah he has some idiotic idea that the crew are his friends or some bullshit. We let him think that because it makes him easier to deal with.”

“Uglier than sin too.”

The group looked around at each other in confusion and concern not exactly sure why the crew was acting the way they were, “Are you guys serious, or just screwing with us.”

Sunglasses didn’t crack a smile, “Very serious.

Still skeptical, they looked around at each other, “I thought I heard he was a good pilot.”

Sunglasses waved a hand, ‘Never said he wasn’t a good pilot, I said he was a tool who doesn't know how to take anything seriously/”

Another marine shrugged, “Yeah, I mean they promoted him super early on in his career, guy isn't even past his dumbass twenties faze yet.”

“You make that sound like he will ever get past his dumbass twenties phase. I honestly think this is his last evolution.” More shifting form the nervous new cremembers but sunglasses stood, “Might as well show you newbies around the ship, let you get to know things before we take off.” He pointed to the marines, don’t do any dumbass shit while I am gone.” 

Moe dumb jokes followed as he left, and the young group hurried to catch up, “So uh…. You a marine then?” The young marine asked glancing downwards at his clothes that did nothing to hit at what his job aboard the ship was, “Not exactly.”

The man answered.

“Than what do you do?”

“I’m their CO.”

“So you are a marine?”

“I didn’t say that.” They followed him up the long ramp and into the belly of the ship where cargo crates were being stacked. Men and women in various stages of work hurried past them greeting sunglasses with a nod and a salute.

“So you’re pretty high up?” One of the pilot’s asked

Sunglasses shrugged, “You could say that.”

“So you spend a lot of time with the commander than?”

The man sighed, “Unfortunately yes…. Too much time.”

They made their way around a corner and nearly ran face first into a massive shape. The young recruits yelped in surprise, one of them making an extremely girlish squeal as they realized what they had run into. The form was absolutely massive, nine feet tall or more with six limbs and a head that was vaguely reminiscent of a bird. It thrust its head down at them with a critical eye and the hard light on the ship rolled over its bloody red carapace.

“Cannon.”

The massive Drev inclined it’s head, “ Lod dazha tadazh? Zhe dazha nehjakazi.” 

They blinked in confusion for a long moment all feeling the strange sensation as the translation software booted up, and a moment later, a very human voice. “Who are these, I don’t recognize them”. The voice was pleasant enough, a deep rumble.

“Who the hell names their kid Cannon?” One of the pilots said  realizing to late that he had probably just insulted a massive ass alien that looked like it could kick his ass.

Sunglasses turned to look at him, “It’s actually a word in his language, should be pronounced Kanan. It means `noble.” He got a pat on the shoulder, “Try not to be a dickhead alright. Most of the Drev have names like that, usually after an attribute or a force of nature.” 

“What’s your name.” The Drev asked, the translation so smooth it was almost seamless integration over his real voice.

The young man stammered, “R-richard.”

The alien looked at him for a long contemplative moment, “Isn’t the nickname that goes along with richard….. Dick?”

That made the other four laugh as the large alien trundled past to show, to their surprise, he was wearing a bionic brace around one of his legs.

“Damn Cannon, they should have called you savage instead, DAMN!” He turned back, “Anyway, keeping the tour moving, try not to insult anyone else alright. Cannon is relatively good humored, but I can’t guarantee the other Drev won’t challenge you to a duel for their honor.”

There was a soft murmuring among the men, but they followed awkwardly behind as the CO led them through the ship showing them to the rec room, the mess hall, engineering and so on. They began to see ore evidence of alien activity, mostly those huge Drev things who were, surprisingly colorful, as compared to the pictures the media tended to release them. They greeted the CO with traditional muttering in their own language which he returned in kind. The translation generally just ut it as good morning though there were multiple versions.

They were walking down one long corridor when one of the recruits yelped and cursed looking as if he was about to piss himself. The others followed his gaze upwards where a face leered down at them from the piping and ductwork.

The man stopped a few feet ahead not bothering to look up, “Stop being an asshole convict, come and show yourself.” The strange alien creature did as told floating down like some ethereal sort of space angel, all white and surrounded in billowing ribbons. He wore an anti-gravity belt and a strange set of gloves.

The CO turned, “Well everyone, this is Conn, he is our ship’s resident telepath. Yes He can read minds, no I can’t make him stop, but yes he will generally keep all your deep dark secrets for his entertainment. No, you won’t be able to tell when he’s invading your minds, only the Commander can talk to him that way .”

The alien waved at them with a malicious grin on his strangely humanoid lips.

“But that's ok because killing him is easy. If he ever gives you trouble just threaten to take off that gravity belt of his. He was born in zero Gs so it will snap his spine like an uncooked spaghetti noodle.”

“Convict’ raised a hand and made a move to flip the CO off, an effect somewhat damaged by the fact that he only had four fingers.

Nervously, they walked past, and the alien grinned malevolently at them. Unfortunately with the way the human mind worked all of their deepest darkest secrets seemed to be at the forefront from their heads as they did so.

THey took a walk up another few decks, and into what appeared to be the med bay, which hissed open as they stepped in. Inside they were surprised to find another strange alien creature directing the placement of some new medical equipment, “And ry not to drop it on yourselves, I have gone almost a month without any major accidents aboard this ship, and I intend to keep it going.”  The spiderly little creature turned in a broad circle its unblinking orange prismatic eyes falling on them.

“Dr. These are our new recruits, Kimber, Han McCaster and Alvarez. Just giving them the grand tour.”

They stared on in awe and wonder as the little alien moved closer.

“Are you really a doctor.”

The creature stared at them looking almost offended, “Are you really a pilot?”

He stood back in shock, he had not expected the aliens to be so aggressively sassy, or even know how to use sarcasm. A had fell on his shoulder, “Forgive McCaster, he seems to have a bit of a pension for running his mouth. Anyway, I’m just taking them the last few decks up to the bridge, is there anything you want to warn them about?”

The doctor looked at them with a critical eye before, “If you are going to stick anything up your ass, just make sure it has a base otherwise it’s going to get stuck, and I am going to have to either A get someone to stick their hand up there or B do surgery,”

The CO laughed, “Always good advice doctor.”

With faces scrunched with confusion, the group followed the CO back into the hallway and up the stairs the last few decks and onto the bridge . The bridge crew was already hard at work on systems checks barely noticing as the group of them entered.

Looking to the right they saw another one of the Drev sitting in a chair just to the side of the captain’s seat. 

“Oh, everyone meet, Sunny our Chief Weapons Specialist.” The bright blue Drev turned around in her seat looking them over with a critical gold eye. She was actually pretty short compared to the massive male they had met earlier. 

“So what does her name mean?”

The Co looked at the kid with a raised eyebrow, “It means involving or having to do with large amounts of light produced by a star onto the planet’s surface, sometimes known as the sun.”

The other three laughed at him and he wilted,” I thought, with the other…”

“With the other guy, his real name just so happens to sound like an english word, her name does not, so we call her Sunny. Sunny and Cannon are brother and sister from the same clan.”  The Blue Drev stood and walked over to look them over. Though she was short for a Drev she towered more than a foot over some of them.

“Scraping the bottom of the barrel with these four.” She said, her voice over the translation was obviously female but not entirely feminine if that made sense. Somehow it suited her.

There was a sharp squeal from somewhere and the group of them turned, shrieking again and backing away as a group of the most HORRIFIC creatures came scuttling across the floor. About as big as medium dogs, and with similar heads, they skittered across the floor on spider bodies. One of the recruits leaped back into a chair picking his feet up off the floor, the other three went into defensive posturing.

Most of the creatures ignored them entirely, one of them making a B-line for the CO Crawling up his back and locking it’s strange feet over his shoulders like the most grotesque backpack ever. One contented itself by lying on his feet, and the other woman began sniffing at them. After a moment a very miffed looking German Shepherd appeared following them and collapsed by the Captain’s chair with a grumble.

The one on the man’s shoulders glowered at them, it’s strange humanoid eyes bright green with anger and intensity. It opened its mouth wide and a strange robotic sound came forth, “Go…. away.” They stepped back even further in shock. The voice was strange, like that of a talking bird, not entirely human at all.

The man turned his head and frowned at the spidery creature reaching up to pat her hairless dog-like head with one hand, “Oh Stop that Glados.”

“No.”

He rolled his eyes, “Manners.”

“No.” 

“You know ever since you learned that word, it's been the bane of my existence.” 

“W-what the hell are those things.”

The Co looked up at them, “These guys are the spiderlings ⅔ s adaptid ⅓ human. This Is Glados,” He pointed down, “That is Hal and the one sniffing at you guys is Cortona. The commander named them, they are technically his after all.”

The recruits started on in awe and disgust, “You mean he like DID IT with an alien.”

The man grimaced, “More like he got roped into incubating an alien egg sack against his will. I hear the process was rather unpleasant.”’

They collectively made a face as the CO scratched the spiderling under the chin, “he says its not as bad as everyone makes it out to be. Besides, the adaptids were just doing what adaptids do, and that is borrow DNA from other creatures.”

“Where IS the Commander anyway.”

The Blue Drev looked over at them with some interest before growing bored and looking away 

The man shrugged, “Who the hell knows.”

And then an officer ran onto the deck, “Sir, Transmission from the GA.”

At that moment the CO stopped smiling, and pulled off his sunglasses. The group of them were stunned into silence as he pulled an eyepatch from his pocket and slipped it over his missing eye. The other one was a bright green, not dissimilar to that of the adaptid. With the sharp clatter of boots on metal he walked back to sit in the Captain’s chair dropping the adaptid  to the floor with a growl of protest.

He pressed something on the side of the chair, and a hologram leaped up in front of his face.

“Greetings commander.”

“Chairwoman.” 

The group looked at each other with miffed expressions.

“How the hell did we not see that coming.”

“Because you’re a dumbass.”

“Like you knew, asshole.”

The other one stopped them with a raised hand, “Is he wearing heelies?”

The group of them turned their heads to the side and confirmed that the man was, in fact, wearing a pair of heelies this entire time.

There was a soft snort from behind them, and they turned to see the Drev ‘Sunny’ sitting at her station.

“Welcome to the crew of the Harbinger.”