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whereisten · 4 years

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One Day

Summary: you and your best friend Mark flirt all the time by making suggestive jokes and teasing each other endlessly. But one day...things get—serious

Pairing: idol and childhood best friend!Mark X female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, a tinyyyy bit of angst (I promise it’s nothing serious)

Warnings: car sex, oral sex (male receiving), slapping, fingering, penetration

Word Count: 2.6K

(A/n: this is my first EVER Mark smut haha so thank you for requesting this anon, I hope you enjoy!!❤️)

—————

“Nice one, Mark.” You laugh as Mark misses the 13th hole while the two of you play mini golf.

“Maybe you’ll find the hole next time?”

You turn to him and give him a wink.

Mark chuckles and shakes his head. “I know you’ve missed me but don’t throw your horny jokes at me.”

Mark is your childhood best friend, but he left your hometown as a teenager so he could pursue his dream of becoming a pop star. The thing is..he had to travel halfway across the world to Korea.

Yes, the two of you were *just* friends. But you couldn’t deny the fact that you had a growing crush on the brown haired boy. You were gonna tell him..one day. Your timing was never right and you didn’t want to ruin the close friendship you had.

The two of you remained close and always spoke with each other when you had time. Mark FaceTimed you when he was getting his hair or makeup done or visiting new places. You hung out 24/7 when he came back home it felt like there was more..but you still couldn’t find the right moment.

Mark grew up right before your eyes and it became more and more difficult to not wish that he was your official boyfriend. You were head-over-heels in love with him and the two of you were doing couplish things but what would it take to make things..real?

“Hey! stop day dreaming about me, it’s your turn..” Mark smirked.

You swung the golf club and watched as the ball landed inside another hole.

“Wow, you’re really good at this..” Mark chuckled.

“I can teach you how to get it in..if you want.” You have him another wink.

And that was another thing. The two of you constantly teased each other with dirty jokes and glances but they were never met with anything. Just a few awkward chuckles and that’s it.

You went about your conversation as if nothing happened. It was another aspect of your friendship that you had both grown comfortable with.

“Oh yeah? Come here then.” Mark walked over to the next area of the course and posed. You quickly walked up behind him and gently placed your hand over his. He grasped the club tightly. You almost felt him shiver at the feeling of your soft, small fingers over his.

“Why are you so bad at this?..relax..” you tip toed while guiding his hands so his posture would be corrected. Your breath hit his ear and the back of his neck.

“You have to..stand like this, Mark.”

Just the sound of your delicate whisper saying his name made his heart beat faster. The fruity smell of your hair and the feeling of your lips grazing his neck made him weak. He had a soft spot for you, and being close to you like this only made him weaker. But he wasn’t sure if you felt the same way, he too was afraid.

“W-Wait, this feels weird..shouldn’t it be the other way around..” Mark stood up straight and turned to you.

You tilted your head.

“The man is supposed to stand behind the girl” Mark smirked.

You scoffed “well, the man is also supposed to be better at this but here we are.. you’re losing and I’m-“ you started but Mark took your hand and spun you around. He stepped forward and put his hands over yours now, running it down the metal of the club.

Your mouth fell open as you felt Mark’s toned chest on your back, had it not been covered by his T-shirt and a flannel, you would’ve felt every muscle clearly.

“Like this..” Mark said huskily, his breath now hit the back of your neck as he bent down and nuzzled himself in the crook of it.

“I know what you’re doing, trying to distract the competition huh?” You giggled as you pressed your butt into his pelvic region.

Mark continues to rub his hands over yours and licked his lips, they grazed you skin lightly as the scent of his cologne filled your nose.

“Is it working?” Marks chest felt heavy on your back, he was getting hot and so were you. You could tell by the sudden seriousness in your tones. Mark’s voice was low and sexy, you rarely heard him like this.

“If you find the right hole, maybe it will..” your sentence trailed quietly into silence as you realized what you said. Maybe you pushed it too far this time? Your eyes widened as you silently cursed yourself.

“Oh really? What about this one?” Mark Traces his thumb over your bottom lip and watched you carefully, his facial expression was filled with curiosity and neediness. He couldn’t stop himself, he always watched your plush lips and thought about them.

The way they’d feel against his lips and skin.

And here they were, slightly parted, opened in surprise.

You both stared at each other for a moment as Mark’s careful dipped inside your mouth. You sucked it before letting your tongue dance over it. Mark’s mouth dropped open at the sight of you and the growing tension in his pants. Your eyes big and bright while his words played throughout your mind over and over.

You felt his growing erection against your back.

Your heart and body screamed ‘yes,finally.’ But your mind was still unsure.

And unfortunately, Mark felt the same way.

He pulled his thumb out of your mouth and quickly lifted himself off of you. He backed away and looked around anxiously.

“Y/n..I’m..I’m sorry..” Mark’s voice came out in a a whisper before he hurried away outside of the mini golf course.

“Wait..” you started but he didn’t stop. Was he embarrassed? Did he not want you anymore? Did he regret touching you?

You gathered your clubs and handed them back to the cashier at the front before leaving, it was nighttime so luckily it was only the two of you in the glow-in-the-dark golf course.

You walked outside and stopped. Mark was inside his car, the only one in the parking garage. His head was against the steering wheel.

And you knew your best friend, you knew he thought he messed up big time.

So you hurried to the car and let yourself in.

You sat in the passenger seat while letting out a loud sigh.

“Do you always just leave your girls all hot and bothered like that in Korea?” You tried to lighten the mood.

Mark chuckled, his head still against the wheel.

He swallowed hard. “I’m-I’m really sorry about that, y/n. I shouldn’t have—“

“Mark..I enjoyed it..like a lot.” You held his chin and tilted his head to the side so that he could look at you.

“Please tell me..things won’t be awkward between us.” Mark’s large eyes pleaded.

You shook your head.

“of course not, Mark, I mean it was a little weird haha, but we’ve been friends for longer than I can remember..I..I wanted to tell you this before you left for Korea actually. But I..like you Mark. And I feel like..”

“We’re dating?” Mark finished your thought.

You licked your lips and nodded. “Y-yeah. So can we..”

“Make it official?” Mark sat up straight and looked into your eyes now.

Your eyes widened and you nodded again.

“The truth is, y/n, I never stop thinking about you..no one knows me like you do.”

Mark ran a hand through his thick hair.

“I’ve wanted you for a while now..”

You smiled and you swore you heard all the angles singing “hallelujah!” outside of the car somewhere.

“Wait, are you blushing? Did I just make you blush?” Mark chuckled.

You punched his arm lightly. “Shut up, loser. Who the hell gets a hard-on at mini golf?”

The two of you burst out into laughter inside the car.

Mark leaned forward as you reached out and held his face. The two of you kisses for the very first time and once again, it felt like professional sopranos and altos were singing just a few feet away.

Mark’s lips felt just as good as you had imagined for all these years. They were so soft and plump. His tongue caressed yours as your heads turned and your heart danced around your chest.

He ran his hand up and down your thigh slowly.

You whined into his mouth while helping him take off his flannel. You tossed it to the backseat then unbuckled his jeans while panting. Mark liked to kiss like it was a battle and he refused to let go for air.

Your hand dipped into his jeans and gently stroked his hard member.

Mark grunted into your mouth as the feeling of your delicate fingers on his most sensitive area made him tremble.

Your lips were still attached to his as you cupped your hand and moved it up and down to spread the precum.

Mark was growing restless. Your teasing, the feeling of your pillowy lips, and the growing heat of your two bodies got him so aroused, he felt himself nearing his climax already.

His hips buckled into your hand, but you kneeled on your seat and broke the kiss off.

You licked your lips and breathed heavily while unbuttoning your blouse.

“Oh—fuck, y/n.”

You chuckled and shook your shirt off to toss it in the back with his flannel.

“You’re so beautiful, why did I wait so long?” Mark gulped at the sight of you in your bra, kneeling in only your mini skirt in the passenger seat of his car.

You went back to kissing him again, he was just too cute for you to resist.

You let go of his lips and lowered yourself so that your lips hovered over his aching tip.

“All these years..you’ve been keeping this from me?”

You gave him a playful wink before kissing his tip all the way down to his base.

Mark chuckled, his head fell back and he groaned.

Mark bit his lips as you took him in, you bobbed you’re head up and down. Nothing about this was neat. You worked hard to please him, allowing your spit to mix with his precum as you tasted him.

You moaned while licking across every vein. Mark nearly lost it when you rubbed the tip along the plush surface inside your cheeks then lifted your head completely off of him to allow his pre cum to drip down your chin.

“You taste good..” you licked your lips and looked into Mark’s eyes knowing it would make him flustered.

He bit his lips. “I love that dirty mouth of yours.”

You smirked then went back to swallowing him, this time you allowed him to reach your throat, you knew you would choke and gag, but you didn’t mind. Just as long as he kept moaning your name.

Your butt was in the air as you brought Mark to ecstasy with your mouth, so he brought his hand to your ass and gave it a smack while he watched you blow him.

You whispered as you jerked forward with the unexpected attack.

“You like that?” Mark asked as he ran his fingers along your covered slit, feeling the response from your body as you grew increasingly wet.

He slapped you again, then rubbed his hand gently over the area.

“Mmmmm” you hummed as your eyes closed tightly. You felt your knees become weak.

Your throat closed around Mark, but now you had to focus on your essence running down your legs.

Mark then moved your panties to the side and pressed his fingers along your slit while you moaned.

You let go of his length when he pressed two fingers into you. “Shit.. that feels good Mark.”

Mark smirked then smacked your ass again to listen to your cries and feel your wet pussy clench around his fingers.

“I found the hole..”

You chuckled. “You’re such a—“ you started but Mark smacked your again before putting a third finger inside.

“Come on, baby girl, you’ve got a job to do.” He raised an eyebrow, watching as he disappeared into your mouth once again, your cheeks hollowing.

His fingers moved in and out of you at the same pace that your mouth worked on him with.

You gagged as he placed his other hand on the back of your head and thrusted into your mouth. His fingers then pumped in and out even deeper, he curled them into your body to find your sweet spot. Your moaning grew louder and he smirked to himself. He was satisfied at his ability to find what made you weak.

He thought about your silky walls around his fingers and knew he had to feel them around his cock.

“F-fuck. Get on top of me.” He demanded, his fingers leaving you empty and clenching around nothing as he withdrew them suddenly.

He quickly pushed the seat back as you unbuttoned your bra and tossed it to the back too.

You climbed over his lap. He held your waist with both hands while he stared at your perky nipples. Your hands rested on his shoulders, your chest rising up and down rapidly in anticipation.

You sank down on him slowly. You both gasped and relaxed as he finally filled you up completely.

Mark gripped your ass tightly and guided you up and down his length, moving painfully slow at first. He liked to hear your squeals and feel you struggle to go slow.

“Oh..fuck, Mark.”

Mark looked up at your clenched jaw, tightly closed eyes and beautiful breasts. He never thought he’d see the day where he’s have you like this. He would have wet dreams and imagine that it was you in the videos sometimes. He felt all of his fantasies finally come to life.

He thrusted up into you hard to watch your breasts jump. You whined and fell forward onto him.

He painted while bringing your ass down to his hips faster.

You became dizzy as the feeling in the base of your stomach grew stronger. You clenched around him without control now. You were close and he knew.

He fucked into you hard from below now, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep your body still as his hips moved faster. You held onto the back of the seat with one hand and pressed onto the car window with the other.

He pounded into you as you leaned down to kiss his lips.

Your cries and his grunts grew louder and you were so thankful to be in the middle of a parking garage.

“Sh-shit.where-“ Mark’s movement stuttered.

He looked up at you questioningly as sweat formulated on his forehead.

You nodded and moaned. “It’s okay, it’s okay..”

He held your ass tightly, his nails digging into the soft skin as he came into your trembling body.

You cried out his name while clenching around him for the last time. Your orgasm fell over you like rain on a dry, hot day in the desert.

You fell forward onto his chest and breathed heavily, your chests both moving at the sam rate.

When you finally regained your strength, you lifted yourself off of him and fell back into the passenger seat.

Mark fixed his pants and brushed his hair back with his hand.

You went to grab your shirt but Mark stopped you.

“Here..take this instead.” He turned to the back and grabbed his flannel. He draped it over you as you blushed.

He smiled widely. “Did I just make you cum AND blush? I’m on a roll today.”

“Ugh, shut up.” You smiled and rolled your eyes. You held onto the flannel tightly while drinking in the scent of his cologne that stuck to it.

Mark pulled out of the parking garage and started to drive back to your place. You held onto his hand as the other gripped the wheel.

You were both in a post-sex high as he drove, everything felt right.

Mark turned to you while you were at a stop light, his eyes still big and adorable. He held your hand up to his lips and gave it a light kiss.

“So..you still wanna be my girlfriend..right?”

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otherthingsinhead · 3 years

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Time To Relax

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, language, oral (male receiving), verbal references to penetrative sex and oral (female receiving), office sex (boss/employee)

Words: 1.4k

A/N: It is what it is. What could I say? I am a slut for Maxwell Lord.

Summary: Who would have thought this morning that laughter is not the only thing you are going to choke on in your boss’s office today.

“M—Mr. Lord?”

You are hesitant to step into the office. It's oddly dark inside, the curtains are all closed, only a small desk lamp illuminates the room poorly, making the atmosphere feel more grim and heavy.

Maxwell Lord is sitting on his sofa, hovering over a big pile of paper. His dark form is tense, almost motionless if you don’t count his lips, moving silently with whatever he is currently reading from the mess in front of him.

“The conference room is ready,” you tell him, getting just as much attention as you did when you came in: zero. “Is there…,” you clear your throat and try again. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

“No—what?” Mr. Lord turns and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as if he just notices you for the first time, then immediately, he goes back to his work. “No, thank you, I... I’m afraid you can’t.”

He is probably right. The future of the Black Gold Cooperative depends on how much money gets invested into it and that depends on the success of this meeting itself which depends on… Mr. Lord alone. It's too much responsibility for only one man you think and feel a strong urge to stay and ease a little on that pressure. Nonetheless, you are useless and since your presence is no more required, you turn to leave. Just as you finally find the will to take the first step, you hear him growl. “Damn migrain!”

Encouraged by the sudden opportunity to stay, you close the door behind you and walk to the medicine cabinet to get some pills and a glass of water. Mr. Lord is now sitting leaned back on the sofa, one arm draped over his eyes, looking all hot and rugged.

He is wearing a simple white shirt with a dark, silk tie. The top first button is undone and the tie is loosened around his neck. He is not particularly handsome—you have to admit—but there is something about him that ignites your body with an uncontrollable want and curiosity ever since the first day you met. He is charismatic, he is charming, he is popular yet, seemingly unaffected by any attention that is not focused on his career.

You can’t tell what exactly awakened this mysterious and powerful attraction to him inside you, but it is there and it is real and it makes your imagination go wild. You often catch yourself fantasizing about him, what it would be like to bend over his office desk and let him rail you against it, or sit on his freshly shaven face and drown him in your pussy.

“Mr. Lord, you should take a break from this mess sometimes,” you say, placing the water onto the table along with the pills and kneel to his feet to start picking up the crumpled papers that have been scattered all over the floor.

“I can’t. I have to—” His attention shifts the moment he opens his eyes. You are on all fours with your ass hiked up, crawling towards a piece of garbage under the small but very expensive coffee table. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Ouch, shit!” You jump and bump your head into the table top as you try to get yourself out from underneath it. “I’m sorry, I just tried to help,” you say, massaging your skull with a painful grimace on your face.

“By getting a headache to yourself too?”

Fuck.

It’s not even that funny.

You try not to give the impression of being a complete lunatic and stifle your bubbling laughter to a more suitable level. Which is hard because one, Mr. Lord has a more sarcastic sense of humor than you have thought and two, now he also has a barely visible but disturbingly cute smile on his lips. “I’ve told you, you can’t.”

His tone is dismissive but his gaze is hot and persistent on you as he leans forward to pick up the pills and suddenly you feel your body stiffen and your heart quicken. He is close enough for you to catch a whiff of his cologne—a warm blend of earthy, fruity and spicy scents—and turn your insides to jelly. “You don’t…” you start, feeling a rush of courage at the casual but not too subtle gaze that lingers on the cleavage of your blouse. “You don’t even give me a chance.”

It’s ridiculous how fucking turned on you are, sitting on your heels in between your boss’s legs, watching his throat work with the gulps as he takes the medicine. He seems unfazed by your words but it is possible that he just doesn’t know what kind of help you are offering. He runs a hand through his dyed hair and checks the time on his wrist watch. Shit, you have to make this clear.

Taking a deep breath you bite down on your lip and place your hands on his knees. You feel the muscles contract at your touch but he stays still, looking down at you with a thrilled but slightly confused expression on his face.

“I can help you relax... if you let me,” you say, almost whispering, simultaneously sliding your hands further up his thighs when a sudden grip halts you.

Okay this… this is embarrassing.

Your stomach drops and your body starts to tremble as you raise your gaze, terrified that somehow you misread the signs and crossed a line you shouldn’t have. But when your eyes lock with his, you don’t feel embarrassment. Instead, you feel powerful and in control so you decide to ignore the insecure grip around your wrists and move again to undone his pants.

Mr. Lord feels the tension slip from his body and dissolve into a warm, tingling and exciting feeling in his spine. He knows this shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t be on your knees, in his office, with his cock in your hands but he likes the way his body reacts to your touch.

His cock is gorgeous. It’s dark and heavy and hard and feels insanely good against your tongue. You barely taste the tip of it and your panties are already soaked with your own arousal. Your pussy throbs painfully with every groan he can’t hold back and you try your best not to seem too desperate as you keep stuffing him deeper and harder down your throat.

You wish it never ends. You swear you could suck his dick for hours, make him throb and moan for you like this but soon the conference room fills up with various businessmen, waiting for your boss to finish fucking your mouth.

It doesn’t take long until he pulls away.

“You—you’re going to make me come,” he warns you, his grip is gentle but firm on your jaw and you know how fucked up you must look with your lips glistening in saliva and eyes glazed with hunger but you don’t give a single fuck how whiney you sound when you beg for him to cum into your mouth. “Yes, please… Mr. Lord. I want that.”

Like a small earthquake, his deep groan shudders through you and your mouth is full of his fat cock again. His big, sweaty hands pressing gently on the back of your head, urging you to suck him deeper as he pounds his cum down your throat.

You lick him clean like a kitten then wipe your mouth, feeling satisfied but equally wanting more. Mr. Lord glances at his wrist watch again and tucks his softened cock back into his pants with a visible disappointment on his face. He is running out of time.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him and get on your feet to smooth your hair and adjust your skirt. “We have work to do.”

“Right,” he says, still sounding out of breath and looking more flustered than you would have expected.

He follows you to the door, reaches for the knob then pauses. “That was… you were very helpful,” he says, his smile is wide and genuine and sends a little flutter to your belly.

You place your hand on top of his and give it a light squeeze before turning the knob with it. “It was my pleasure,” you blink up at him through your lashes and walk away with a wide grin on your face and a pleasant, pulsing ache that still thrums between your legs.

All taglist: @maryan028 @pedrothirst @pascalisthepunkest @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8

#pedro pascal #maxwell lord #fanfiction #wonder woman 1984 #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #female reader insert #ww84 #maxwell lord smut

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years

Text

Half As Pretty

Heather Series Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The Song Mentioned in the chapter, Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars aka, the song that made me sob because it was too perfect for this damn fic. I recommend listening to it while you read the part its mentioned in.

Summery: Reader is experiencing her own personal hell, but one midnight confession sets everything ablaze.

Words: 3.4k I told y’all it’d be longer.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of nicotine addiction, the beginning of an alcohol addiction, suicidal thoughts, slight manipulation from one Derek Morgan, and just a whole lotta hurt.

Paring: Spencer Reid x Heather Charmical, eventual (I promise) Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

A/N: Okay.....I’m finna be real honest.....I was listening to my music on shuffle when Poison and Wine came on, and I started crying while typing, and than I re-listened to it while typing this up and proceeded to cry again. It took me about 3 minutes of psyching myself up to write ONE sentence near the end of it because I knew there was no going back once I wrote it. This was so hard to write in the most beautiful way possible, and I really hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Shout out to @toosassy2handle for the recommendation of Heather's last name. It’s long and annoying and just reminds me of a stuck up bitch so its perfect.

~~~~~~

I used to love weddings.

They were always so well put together.

I’d always admire the pretty bride, the dress, everything.

I dreamed of having one of my own one day. And when I met Spencer, those daydreams changed so that I was walking down the aisle towards him instead of someone whose face I could never quite focus on.

But that’s all I’m ever going to have. Daydreams.

Because here I sit, all dolled up next to his mother, at none other than Spencer Reid’s wedding.

It’s obvious Heather did most of the planning.

I don’t take him as a ‘dusty rose’ type of person.

I stare at the soft colors and delicate flowers, and fire burns deep within me.

I want to burn this place to the ground.

I can’t, though.

I’m supportive.

I’m happy for Spencer.

I’m happy that he’s happy.

I’m happy.

I look down at my hands, playing with the hem of my burgundy party dress.

I don’t think I’ve been this dressed up since….

I think I threw that dress away when I got home that night.

I don’t remember much of that night after coming back to the table.

I’m positive I drank at least half the champagne they had.

Derek had to carry me home.

“My son didn’t plan any of this.”

I look over, and see Diana scowling at the decor.

I can’t help but let a small smile spread across my face.

At least she agrees with me.

I lean in closer to her, so our words can only be heard by us.

“I completely agree. He’s more of a ‘dark academia’ kind of guy.”

She smiles at me, reaching her hand over, and patting my leg. “You know when he told me he was getting married, I thought it was going to be to you.”

My heart stops. “Y-You did?”

She nods, looking around the room like she hadn’t just said something that made my world stop spinning. “I didn’t meet Heather until a week after he told me. That’s when I learned that they were dating in the first place. I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed.”

I bring a hand up to my mouth, covering the smile and laugh threatening to spill.

“But she makes him happy. Anyone can see that.”

The smile falls, and the laugh dies.

“Though, he did bring you to meet me not too long after meeting you himself.”

I nod, remembering the trip. “It had been a month. I had known him for a month, and he really wanted me to meet you. I was so nervous. I really wanted you to like me.”

Her smile is big, and her hand finds one laying in my lap, squeezing it.

“I liked you the minute he told me about you.”

I loved Diana.

I will always love Diana.

I open my mouth to say something, but someone a few rows back says ‘Here comes the groom.’

I turn my head, and low and behold, there he is, walking with the biggest smile on his face towards the front. He stands, with his hands clasped in front of him, as he waits like the rest of us.

He looks stunning, in a simple black and white tux.

His eyes meet mine, and I smile at him.

He winks back at me.

The moment doesn’t last long before a song starts, and a hush falls over the crowd.

Slowly, one by one, bridesmaids and groomsmen make their way down the aisle.

Derek is the best man, and he pats Spencer's shoulder as he takes his position behind him.

And then the music shifts, and while she starts to walk, something dawns on me.

I will never be as pretty as she is.

She’s breathtaking.

She’s practically glowing in the white satin ballgown, a bouquet of roses clutched in her hands.

She’s looking around at the crowd, smiling and nodding and it’s only when she’s halfway down the aisle that she meets his eyes.

I look at him, and I don’t think there are any words that can explain the look of pure joy written across his face.

JJ, who is sitting beside me, reaches over and grabs my free hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

She reaches the front, and all eyes are trained on her, but I can’t tear mine away from him.

He holds her hand so delicately, and I can see him fighting back tears.

I don’t even notice when vows are said and rings are exchanged. I only notice when I see JJ look at me from the corner of her eye as the officiant says “If anyone has any objection to the marriage of these two people, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

For a moment, I think about it.

“Me! I do!”

The crowd gasps as I make my way towards the front.

“I do. I object.”

His eyes are wide and she looks furious.

“Why do you object?” The officiant says, startled.

“Because I love you.” I’m looking directly at him.

“I love you, Spencer.”

No.

No, I can’t.

I’d lose everything.

You’d be a selfish bitch is what you would be.

“Then do you, Heather Charmical, take Spencer Reid to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Tears are lipping out of my eyes, though my eyes are not the only wet ones in the room.

I can blame it on the emotions. I wouldn’t be technically lying.

“And do you, Spencer Reid, take Heather Charmical, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Please say no.

“I do.”

I don’t have a heart anymore.

This just confirmed it.

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

He takes her face between her hands, and places his lips on hers in a passionate kiss.

That’s it.

They’re married.

People clap and cheer, and they lock hands, walking back down the aisle, now together by law.

I want to puke.

People start to get up, and I suddenly can’t breath.

My chest rises and falls, and I shoot a glance at JJ, before making my way through the crowd as respectively as possible to leave the room as quickly as I can.

I look down to my bag once I make my way into the vast hallway, digging and searching for my cigarettes when I ram into someone, dropping my purse, and spilling the contents over the smooth tile floor.

“Fuck.”

“Hey hey hey, what’s the rush baby girl?”

I look up to see Derek, kneeling down to help me pick up my stuff.

“I just, I just um,”

Breath, y/n, just fucking breath.

“I just really need to find a bathroom. I shouldn’t have drank all that tea before coming here.”

I shove things back into my purse, not even really looking, before standing back up.

“I’ll find you and Pen in a bit. Promise.”

I don’t wait for him to answer, turning and walking away before he gets a chance to speak.

I’ll find a bathroom eventually.

~~~~

When is an appropriate time to leave the wedding of your best friend, whom you're secretly in love with, without seeming rude?

Because I need to leave.

I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I don’t.

My right leg is crossed over my left, shaking with every anxious heartbeat.

People have plates full of food, and are mingling with drinks from the open bar, another thing that I know for a fact Spencer had nothing to do with.

I’ve barely touched the food on my plate, my appetite gone, at least not for anything other than the fruity little cocktails that keep appearing in front of me.

I’m about to get up and find someone, probably JJ, that I got sick in the ladies room, and to tell Spencer I’m sorry, when he walks up to where I’m seated, his hand outstretched for me.

“Come dance with me.”

The liquor in my system makes me giggle.

“I thought you didn’t like dancing?”

“I’ll make an exception for my favorite girl.”

Don’t let Heather hear you say that.

I place my hand in his, and let him lead me to the dance floor, where he spins me, before bringing me in close to him, resting a hand on my hip, and grasping my left hand with his other.

My hand not in his rests comfortably on his upper arm, and we sway, back and forth to the soft music.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and I’m positive he can feel every heartbeat through the layers of our clothing.

The lights are soft, and the music is gentle. If I close my eyes, and don’t think about it, I can imagine that this is our first dance, at our wedding that will never happen.

“Thank you, for coming y/n.”

My eyes open, and I can’t hide from him anymore. His eyes don’t falter from my own, and his smile is small.

“Of course I’d come. Why wouldn’t you think I would?”

“I don’t know. You’ve seemed off these past couple months. I didn’t know if you’d be up for it.”

Shit shit shit.

I laugh off my panic. “Spence, I could be bleeding out on my apartment floor, and I would still make it here. You mean everything to me. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He grimaces at the thought of me dying, but the words that follow erase the worry on his face. “You’d tell me if something was wrong right? Everything’s okay?”

I smile at him, placing my head against his shoulder so I don’t have to look him in the eye when I lie. “Everything is fine. I’m okay. I promise.”

You’ve gotten way too good at lying to him. What’s gonna happen when he finds out? About your secret? About how it's getting harder and harder for you to get out of bed in the morning because it’s just not worth it anymore? Or about your depleting alcohol cabinet, since every night you seem to think drowning out your sorrows will make it easier to sleep?

He rests his chin on my head and we just sway back and forth to the music.

His fingers start gently playing with my own, and I hear him softly singing to himself as we dance.

“Oh, your hands can heal, your hands can bruise.” His hand moves from my hip to my lower back, holding me there against him as he continues to sing.

“I don’t have a choice, but I still choose you.”

I move my face farther into his shoulder, like I could disappear if I wanted to. This feels too intimate, feels too wrong. I should step away and congratulate him, tell him to go find his wife for god's sake, and leave with my dignity still intact.

But I don’t want to. I’ve dreamed of him holding me like this, and the words he’s whispering I know are for only me to hear.

“Oh I don’t love you, but I always will. I don’t love you, but I always will.”

Whoever the dj is, deserves a raise, because while this song is totally not for a wedding, it’s perfect for this moment.

“I always will. I always will.”

The song ends, and we stand, still together, for a second longer than we probably should.

“I’m sorry to break you two up, but I was wondering if I could convince my son to dance with his mother.”

Diana’s voice is soft, and I smile against his shoulder before moving back, removing myself from him.

His eyes are wet.

“Of course, Diana. He’s all yours.”

She turns to me before I walk away, pushing stray hairs out of my face, fixing my necklaces and smoothing out my dress. “Heather looked like she was about to burst into flames. I thought I’d save you from a public sacrifice.”

Fuck.

“Thank you, Diana.”

She kisses my forehead before turning back to Spencer, and I use the time to walk back over to my table, grab my purse and make my way out of the room.

I find a balcony of sorts, and the cool December air cools my skin.

I once again dig through my purse to find my cigarettes, pulling out the pack once I do. When I open it, however, I find it empty.

I smoked my last one and didn’t even realize it.

“Damnit!” I crush it in my hands, before placing it back in my purse.

The sun is setting, and I can see my breath.

I walk forward to the stone railing, looking out over the small park below the building. The stone is rough beneath my palms, and dark spots appear as I cry for the second time today.

I don’t have a choice, but I still choose you.

He couldn’t have meant it the way I’m thinking he meant it. He was just singing along to a song he’s probably heard thousands of times the past couple months.

But it’s too perfect not to.

Is it possible? Did he love me? If he did, does he still love me?

“Aren’t you cold, sweetheart?” Derek’s voice startles me, and I jump a little.

“Uh, no. It feels nice. It was getting a little stuffy in there so I thought I would come get some air.”

He hums, and walks up to stand beside me, his hands in his pockets.

“You know, when you dropped your purse earlier, an envelope fell out.”

My eyes widen.

“It didn’t have anything written on it, so I just assumed it was for Spencer and Heather and put it with the others. You seemed like you had other things on your mind so I thought I’d help.”

No no no no no no no no this isn’t happening. This isn’t real, he didn’t just give my love confession to the now married man it’s about and his wife. Oh my god, I’m gonna die.

“Y-You what?! No no no, that wasn’t meant for them. No no no. Holy shit.” I start pacing back and forth, combing my hands through what little of my hair was down.

“I need to go get it. He’ll understand. It’s just a big mix up. He can’t have that envelope.”

I turn ready to run back into that room and make a scene when Derek speaks from behind me.

“You mean this envelope?” I turn and there he stands, holding it in his hand.

My stomach rises from my feet. “Jesus fucking christ, Morgan. That’s not fucking funny.” I walk forward to grab it, but he’s taller than I am, and raises it out of my reach. “I never said it was.”

“Give it back, Derek.” Even in heels I can’t quite reach his hand.

“I will, once you tell me what's in it that gets you so worked up at the thought of Spencer having it.”

I don’t meet his eye as I reach for it again. “It’s nothing. It’s none of your business.”

“Baby girl, I see the way you look at him.” He grabs my wrist with his free hand, lowers himself so he can look at me straight on. “And that dance that you two just had? That’s not nothing and you know it.”

My lip trembles and I remove my arm from his grasp, walking back to the railing.

If you jump, this could all end. You wouldn’t have to explain anything. It's a perfect cop out.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, my voice shuddery when I talk. “You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even Penelope. And especially not Spencer.”

He stands close by my side, his eyes on my face as I stare out over the park. “I promise.”

Is this what having a heart attack feels like?

I take a short breath in, it's all I can muster, and speak.

“It’s a confession. I’m horrible with words, so I wrote it down to give it to him.”

“What were you confessing?”

Tears resume to fall down my face, and I pinch at my cuticles. “That I’m in love with him.”

I feel Derek shift to look down at the railing, the envelope placed in between us.

“I confessed that I’m in love with him. That I have been since the moment I met him. I know how horrible it is, I know but I couldn’t keep it in any longer. Even if he never finds out, I needed to put it out there that I love him.”

“You’re in love with me?”

I choke on my breath, and my nails dig into the stone.

No. Please no. Please tell me this is all just a nightmare, and I’ll wake up this morning and it’ll have never happened.

My body is frozen, but I manage to turn to see him standing in the doorway, a look of pure shock written across his face.

He looks like I just slapped him.

“Spencer, oh my god.” It’s nothing more than a whisper, but it feels like a scream ripping from my chest.

“Y-You’re in love with me? When-, I-,” he runs his hands through his hair, and takes a step forward.

I'm sobbing, and I can’t stop. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen. “Spencer, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on you finding out like this.”

“When were you going to tell me?” His voice cracks, and I realize then that he’s not angry. He’s hurt.

I have to be honest with him now. I can’t lie to him. It’s over. The ruse is over.

I’m finished.

My fists clench and unclench as I try my best to keep my emotions under control.

“I was going to tell you the day you introduced me to Heather.”

His eyes flicker to the envelope resting on the railing, and they gloss over for a second as he remembers that day.

“You told me-”

“I lied. I lied and said it was for my mom, but it wasn’t.” I cross my arms in front of me, a chill settling itself on my skin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I wish his voice would get louder. I wish he would scream at me. I deserve to be screamed at.

“You were dating someone, Spencer. You had been dating someone, and you had just introduced me to her. What would you have wanted me to do?”

“Not lie to me!” There we go. Get angry. Hate me.

“Why? What would you have done!? What would have happened if I didn’t care about your relationship with her and just given it to you?”

It’s getting darker, and the light pouring outside from the building is the only one to see by, so I can’t really make out his face.

“I don’t know! I have no idea of knowing, but I do know that I wish you wouldn’t have lied to me. You’ve been hiding from me, Y/N. Please stop hiding from me. I can help you.”

I roll my eyes, my vision going blurry from the tears. “No you can’t Spencer. You’re married. Did you forget that?”

He’s quiet, and I can see Derek shift his gaze from between us, not really knowing what to do.

His voice is substantially softer when he speaks next.

“Give me the letter.”

I choke back the noisy sobs. “No.”

He repeats himself, holding out his hand.

“Please, give me the letter.”

“Why?” I’m exhausted. Can’t this conversation just end?

“Because I need to know that you loved me like I loved you.”

Loved?

He just told you to your face, that while he may have loved you once upon a time, he doesn’t anymore. He doesn’t love you anymore. He doesn’t love you.

I can’t fight this anymore.

“Please don’t hide from me anymore.” He pleads, and I can feel myself beginning to go numb. Whether it’s from the cold, or my mind starting to shut down, I have no idea.

I grab the envelope from where it sits, walking forward and handing it to him.

He brings it to his jacket, tucking it safe inside one of the pockets.

“I’ll call you. Okay? And we can talk this out.”

There’s no talking this out, Spencer. What’s done is done.

He looks between me and Derek, and without another word, he walks back into the building, shoulders tense, and head down.

This is it. This is the end of the line. Nothing will be the same.

“Y/n….”

I don’t respond. I just turn, grabbing my purse and walking down the stairway the leads to the park from the balcony.

My tears leave hot streaks against my cold skin.

A snowflake lands on my nose.

~~~

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x female!reader #spencer reid series #criminal minds #criminal minds series #criminal minds self insert #cm #angst #heather #conan gray #poison and wine #the civil wars

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whatiwillsay · 3 years

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off topic - let’s talk about gaylena 👀

selena gomez is one of taylor’s oldest and bestest friends and given that she is in the 22 liner notes, a huge part of taylor’s life, and maybe fruity herself it seems like possibly we don’t talk about her here at the blog enough!

i don’t want to do a timeline of selena and taylor’s friendship - you can read more about that here, but they met back in the day when they were both dating jonas brothers and to me this idea of finding a real friendship in the midst of these contrived promances is pretty adorable.

ofc most of y’all think taylor is a fruit basket but i think there’s a good chance that selena is too! i’m not saying she is for sure but y’all know me. i’’m here to make a compelling case that everyone and their dog is gay so let’s gooooo!

Part I - At least one fake rs!

Selena “dated” Taylor Lautner in 2009 and he’s definitely gay. Of course, that doesn’t mean she is, it could just be PR, but y’all know I gotta note everything! We stan our fruity bffs dating the same gays 😍

Part II - Selena x cara delevingne

i feel like there’s a chance they met through taylor but everyone in that squad adjacent circle knows one another. cara dated michelle rodriguez for the first half of 2014 and then got with annie clark in March 2015 but it feels like it’s possible something has gone on between her and Selena from summer 2014 - early 2015? ...maybe something casual on and off a bit?

August 2014 - Steamy pics surface in Saint-Tropez, France

Selena and and a freshly single Cara vacation together in part to celebrate Selena’s 22nd birthday.

They party together and look cozy!

Pictures such as this surface and spark rumors around the two:

Selena apparently loves the rumors and gushes about being shipped with Cara.

Quote:

You say Selena drag queens were the true measure of success for you. But isn’t it true that you’re not truly famous until you’ve been the subject of a gay rumor? And last year, the tabloids had a field day with photos of you and Cara Delevingne. I’ve made it!

How did you react to those rumors? Honestly, I loved it. I didn’t mind it. Especially because they weren’t talking about other people in my life for once, which was wonderful. Honestly, though, she’s incredible and very open and she just makes me open. She’s so fun and she’s just extremely adventurous, and sometimes I just want that in my life, so I didn’t mind it. I loved it.

Notice she doesn’t deny them? Now of course she could just be being cool, if she freaked out about it that might be even weirder but hey, it’s still kind of interesting.

Then she admits to questioning her sexuality???

Have you ever questioned your sexuality? Oh, I think everybody does, no matter who they are. I do, yeah, of course. Absolutely. I think it’s healthy to gain a perspective on who you are deep down, question yourself and challenge yourself; it’s important to do that.

(Selena btw, this is cool and all, but not everybody questions their sexuality, maybe you’re just gay 👀)

November 1 - LACMA Art + Film Gala

they even left the event together 👀

and they hung out earlier that day as well:

They were seen the next day partying for Kendall Jenner’s bday singing to her:

a few weeks later Cara tweets Selena’s lyrics!

In December 2014 they are travelling together in texas:

in january 2015 they get cozy at the golden globes together!

and they leave together again:

January 19th/20th a bunch of gay nonsense happens

They post this gay shit with matching shoes and linked fingers:

then they say this to one another:

Enty says they were hooking up!

then we don’t get any more content that i can find for about six months! perhaps they had a fling from summer 2014-jan 2015 and then it ends, Cara gets with Annie in March? Then after half a year apart Selena and Cara resume a friendly relationship? Perhaps! Selena is seen with Justin a bit off and on during this time but this was in their Style/Heat Death Era imo (tbh i probably shouldn’t give a hetty pairing including Justin that designation 🤢but y’all get what I’m saying - it’s fully possible Selena was hooking up with both of them!

Now I’m not super familiar with Selena’s discography so y’all lmk if I’m missing anything major - lyric wise that point to her not being straight.

Selena’s album Revival that comes out after this relationship has a few songs with some vibes, even though I get the feeling a lot of it is probably about Justin, allow me to reach. The title track could be translated as someone coming to terms with their sexuality (among other things):

I feel like I've awakened lately The chains around me are finally breaking I've been under self-restoration I've become my own salvation Showing up, no more hiding, hiding The light inside me is bursting, shining It's my, my, my time to butterfly

Good for you, imo, is too sexy to be about a man even if it’s not super queer lyrically it’s a vibe ok?

Me & My Girls might be a bestie anthem a la 22 (oh wait, no 22 was gay too) but I mean...could be about a girl gang of lesbians too!

And if we want it, we take it If we need money, we make it Nobody knows if we fake it You like to watch while we shake it I know we're making you thirsty You want us all in the worst way But you don't understand I don't need a man

Quinn Fabray indeed!

Nobody feels probably like a retrospective on Justin 🙄but...there is a hint of sapphic craving in there! Saying this particular lover loves them differently than everyone is a bit 👀 plus this stanza:

No oxygen, can barely breathe My darkest sin, you've raised release And it's all because of you, all because of you And I don't know what it is, but you've pulled me in No one compares, could ever begin To love me like you do And I wouldn't want them to

Is Perfect about some bitch Justin started dating? Probably but bear with me here this song is actually pretty fucking gay. Gay enough that I’m gonna add it to one of my gay playlists. Could this song actually be about Cara moving on to Annie?

Ooh, and I bet she has it all Bet she's beautiful like you, like you And I bet she's got that touch Makes you fall in love, like you, like you

I can taste her lipstick and see her laying across your chest I can feel the distance every time you remember her fingertips Maybe I should be more like her Maybe I should be more like her I can taste her lipstick, it's like I'm kissing her, too And she's perfect And she's perfect

Part III - Selena x Julia Michaels

Julia Michaels is a singer/songwriter known for her song Issues. I don’t know her sexuality but she at the least has gay vibes! It seems they met around this time perhaps because Julia wrote on Revival.

They have a friendly enough friendship for a few years, liking one another’s posts on IG from time to time, posing for a photo a time or two and then they seem to get swept up into this very intense friendship in 2019. They write some music together and Julia goes whole hog in promoting the shoe brand Selena is hawking this time 😭

2019 - The Superior Sapphic Jelena Timeline:

It starts, for some reason with a lot of shoe promotion:

chill, chill

more shoes

but more gayness?

this homo shit

ok...

Then we go into the REALLY GAY NOVEMBER OF 2019:

Then they perform together:

And...actually kiss...on the mouth on stage???

Sure it’s just a peck but still...if that were a guy people would say they were dating.

Somehow kissing on the mouth isn’t the gayest thing these girls do over this period because these fucking dykes got matching tattoos. I’ve read enough Larry blogs to know this actually means they’re secretly married. All jokes aside this is fruity behavior.

From their IG stories:

Selena gets Julia a very nice christmas gift:

Covid sets in and content drops off but god damn! It’s possible they just had an intense friendship but if a man and a woman collabed on music together, kissed in public, and got matching tattoos everyone would say they were dating!

Selena, as far as I can find, didn’t have any public boyfriends around this time so who are some of these love songs about?

Rare comes out in January 2020 and perhaps has some gayish songs?

Don’t tell me why but boyfriend lowkey, has a gay vibe. Don’t ask me to explain it but it’s just the musicality of it.

Crowded Room could be a love song for Julia? (or by Julia for Selena, since they’re collaborators?)

Baby, it's just me and you Baby, it's just me and you Just us two Even in a crowded room Baby, it's just me and you, yeah

These are general gay vibes, our secret moments in a crowded room tease

It started polite, out on thin ice 'Til you came over to break it I threw you a line and you were mine

It would have started out polite between them, since they worked together for years before whatever 2019 was happened. And throwing someone a line first of all makes Selena sound like the aggressor but also “throwing someone a line” could be a reference to writing songs together.

Yeah, I was afraid, but you made it safe I guess that is our combination Said you feel lost, well, so do I So won't you call me in the morning? I think that you should call me in the morning If you feel the same, 'cause

Lots of people are afraid at the beginning of a gay rs. Treacherous tease 👀

In summation!

Selena does gay stuff like fantasizing ab kissing other women in her music, getting very touchy with famous dykes on vacay, hangs out with Taylor Swift, has chronic mental health issues, dated a jonas brother and a twilight gay, has admitted to questioning her sexuality, and loves being shipped with women. Is she gay? I don’t know! But all she’s missing from her celesbian bingo card is a suspiciously intense friendship with a Glee Cast member! What do you guys think? Selena fruity or just weird?

Edit to add: so apparently I missed an entire ship and Selena supposedly acted really gay all the time with her backup dancer Charity Baroni. Exposing SMG has posted a lot about all that.

Also Selena has been cast in a gay role! edit to add: @bisluthq went and found this for me - julia is indeed a fruit queen

#selena gomez #gaylena #taylena #gossip #cara delevingne #julia michaels #lesbian #sapphic #of interest #taylor's fruity friends

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alternativespookster · 3 years

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Hi I have severe hypmic brainrot and will now proceed to subject y’all to it. Have my various gender and sexuality headcanons. Also I am trans and mlm so you’ll have to bare with me.

Ichiro: gay gay homosexual gay. Ichikukojyushi polycule real trust me I’m literally jyushi. We all may make hentai lover ichiro jokes but I feel like he’s ace of some sort. He’s cis but he’s also he/they because he just rejects gender. Good for him

Jiro: cis straight Chad but like somehow I feel like he grows up into a himbo and wow does that make me think about making him a little fruity.

Saburo: non-binary. They are just too gender to not be. Gender envy right here right now. Yes I have gender envy for a 14 year old, no it’s not weird. Also their fourteen so I have no thoughts on their sexuality.

Samatoki: but like is that trauma I smell? I don’t know man have daddy issues and sharing cigarette kisses with 2+ men is kinda smelling like gay to me? And he’s a lesbian protector. Also cis but literally you cannot convince me he isn’t the best trans ally ever.

Jyuto: gives me gay and homophobic. But I will put him into the bisexuality corner because I can’t deny the truth. Trans man bc his haircut is just giving off vibes.

Rio: TRANS MAN!!! YOU CANT HAVE TIDDIES LIKE THAT WITHOUT RAISING SUSPICION!! TRANS DETECTOR GOING OFFF. Also a sweet southern bisexual man. God I love him.

Ramuda: okay he’s trans and pansexual and do NOT argue with me on this one it is TRUE KING RECORDS TOLD ME.

Gentaro: he’s- he’s literally the non-binary flag colors. Also bi with a fem lean. Pronouns She/He because I’m not a coward.

Dice: instead of gay and homophobic he’s giving trans and does not know what gender is. Bi and prolly she/he/they because once again, I am not a coward his name is DICE. DAISU. NO CIS PERSON HAS A NAME LIKE THAT.

Jakurai: quizzical old gay man. Elder queer. I just know in my soul he’s old and gay. Also like he/she but in the gnc I like being feminine but I’m certainly not female way. But no please jakurai using feminine pronouns but masculine nouns just feels good in my soul.

Hifumi: trans man. Another trans male you can pry from my cold dead hands. Pan or bi bc yes his love of women is different but he literally has gynophobia so please understand it’s not possible for it to be perfectly the same.

Doppo: agender. He was so so uncomfortable dressing as a lady in that one arb event but it’s bc no gender instead of trans man with dysphoria bc jyuto isn’t transphobic. This is not my only argument but “too tired for gender” isn’t all that compelling now is it? Also is he gay or does he too have a fear of women? Like I just feel like doppo is genuinely afraid of having relationships women bc of chuuoku but I shouldn’t think about it that hard. They/He but doesn’t correct ppl and apologizes to them when they misgender him/only use he/him.

Kuko: hmmm non-binary. And technically this man should not be any type of sexual but you know what he gets a pass. Technically he’s not supposed to touch the opposite sex… and he isn’t so like you go dude, be gay do crime.

Jyushi: you can’t even pry trans male Jyushi out of my dead hands I’m right. Also he’s bi. But god damn is he very male leaning. Oh he also gives big he/she/they vibes but also I’m kinda like hmmmmm. Is he just very feminine?? Bc if so me too dude. He/him strictly but very fem gang.

Hitoya: also gives quizzical old gay vibes. He trans because I say so. Literally he’s just so vivacious.

Sasara: gay gay home of sexual gay. Literally have you met this man??? Just so fruity. He’s probably cis but this guy is just so gender. So maybe a he/they. As a treat.

Rosho: okay that is a trans man if I’ve ever seen one. Also like gives off the vibes of a gay but surprisingly he does in fact like women! A bicon if I do say so myself!

Rei: cishet. Like I want him to be gay so so bad but he is not a gay he’s just that much of a disaster straight. He feels like a true old gay man and I just want to hand him the trophy but no I can’t lie he is cishet and would probably kill me💙

Otome: cis but the biest woman to ever bi. Literally I don’t care if everyone and their mother thinks she’s a lesbian I have to be honest she’s a bi woman scorned horridly.

Ichijuku: a trans lesbian. I’m no coward literally prove me wrong you can’t.

Nemu my love, the one woman I would get on one knee for instead of two: trans trans trans please let me have this one. At least non-binary. Please let me HAVE THIS. Also like I love her so much but she is a slightly mean bi lady and Ichijuku is the mean lesbian not the other way around. She would be a wonderfully girl boss mean lesbian though

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypmic headcanons

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evandearest · 3 years

Text

The Garden of Eden | Part III: Hidden Darkness

Pairing: James March x reader (you) | ~Part: (3/4)~

Summary (Part Three): Sometimes, even when things seem to be at their best, hidden truths can seep through the cracks. Sometimes, it can ruin relationships, but other times, it can make them. What will happen when you and James find that everything is not what it seems? They say opposites attract, but how far can that really go? The truth is a magnet, but the question still remains: will it bring you together, or force you apart?

Warnings (in this part): drunk person (briefly), anxiety, twisted morals / religion bending, murder / blood, lying, sexual scenes (no real smut)

Word Count: 4,723 (OMG lol)

Notes: Can we just pretend I didn’t mess up the location of the backstory? I just have no idea how to change it in the story now. I didn’t remember that James was from New York until just recently as I’ve been re-watching Hotel. Let’s just say that for the sake of this story, James moved from New York to L.A. at a much younger age for some reason lol. I’m so sorry for messing that up, it bothers me so much! Ugh. In this part, I decided to give a peek into James’ point of view a little bit. :) Also, the sections in italics are flashbacks if you are ever confused. This one gets pretty twisted as far as morals go. lol. Also, this is the longest part so far... and I’m impatient to get this posted because I’m so excited, so I apologize if there are any errors. Without further a-do... let the show begin. :) Enjoy!

(p.s. let me know if you ever have any questions/comments about the story, I love feedback!)

Tag List: @etoile-writings @haileyybird @ietss

Something had been going on with James. As much as it might not seem to some, you were smarter than you looked. You were attentive; you watched the people around you. You cared about those kinds of things. Some would call it trust issues, but you call it surviving. Through all you’d been through, being vigilant was the one thing that had seemed to keep you going.

It’d been the best month you’d ever had. Everything had seemed to fall into place; you and James’ relationship had been stronger than ever. Everyone had seemingly accepted it, too, which surprised you greatly. You had figured that many people would criticize you, but if there was one thing you had learned, it would be that people didn’t question James. You loved that. Not having to answer people’s critiques and being respected was a feeling you’d never known, and it was a feeling that you definitely got used to quickly. You didn’t even have to worry about people questioning you, because if they did, James was quick to take care of it. However, you had noticed an odd pattern: any person that said something rude to you seemed to vanish.

For example, today. You had been sitting at the bar, minding your own business while sipping a fruity cocktail, when a man with whiskey breath approached you. He was stumbling, slurring, spitting, and frankly you had quickly become uncomfortable. So you’d politely and discreetly moved seats in an attempt to get away from him, which ended up failing. Plan B had been to excuse yourself to the bathroom. When you returned merely five minutes later, the man had vanished. While it wasn’t strange for drunk men to wander off, it was strange for drunk men to get very far within a few minutes. You’d walked around the main hallways of the hotel in search for him, but he was nowhere to be found. And this hadn’t been the first time this had happened. You were beginning to get suspicious.

You wouldn’t have suspected him in the first place if it hadn’t been for the fact that you’d caught him in some peculiar situations.

It was late. The clock on the side table read 2:00 A.M. when you heard the door to the room open and close. Even in your sleepy haze, you’d managed to catch sight of a black figure. You’d slipped out of bed not soon after, your silk robe dragging on the floor behind you as you made your way out of your room. You gently closed the door behind you, quietly padding down the hall. As you rounded the corner, you caught sight of a familiar suit-clad back at the end of the hall. Just as you were about to call out, you heard a faint moaning in pain, silencing you. You swerved around, on a mission to hide your body behind the corner so as to just observe, when that familiar voice called out to you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around slowly, smiling softly at James from across the hall. You yawned, furrowing your eyebrows together in confusion.

“James?” you asked, your voice cracking from having just woken up. He smiled, although you could read the nervousness all over him. What was he doing? He slowly crossed the hallway down to you, his hands reaching forward to grab both of yours.

“Why are you awake, darling? It’s nearing two,” he asked worriedly, reaching up to gently brush your cheek with his knuckles. You paused, staring at him in confusion.

“Just having some strange dreams,” you said, averting your eyes to look over his shoulder for a second. “Did you hear that noise?”

“W-what noise, dear?” he tried to recover from his stutter quickly, but you didn’t fail to notice it. You paused once again, studying his handsome features. He wasn’t lying to you, was he?

“Nothing...” you trailed off, lost in thought, before letting out a breathy laugh. “I must just be tired, darling. Are you alright?” James shoulders dropped visibly, a toothy grin forming on his face.

“Of course,” he said, before placing a kiss onto your forehead. “You need rest up, dear. We wouldn’t want anything happening to your pretty little head.” You genuinely smiled at that. He was very sweet; although you did have a strange feeling about his behavior. You couldn’t describe it, it was more intuitive than certain, but you just couldn’t deny or brush it off.

“What about you?” you asked him, reaching over to squeeze his hand in a loving manner. “Aren't you coming to bed?” James raised his eyebrows, quickly shaking his head.

“No, no, dear, I’m afraid not,” he sighed, smiling at you sadly. “I have quite a lot of paperwork to catch up on, and I’m afraid I won’t rest until it’s done.”

“Okay, just don’t overwork yourself darling,” you said and sighed while looking at him pointedly. You then leaned up to place a chaste kiss against his lips. “Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight dearest,” he whispered, and you turned and made your way to your room. You opened the door and stepped inside, turning to place your ear against the door for a moment. You swore that you could hear a faint groaning again. You shook your head at yourself, telling yourself it was all in your mind before settling back into bed.

Ever since that night, a week ago, you’d been suspicious. You just had an innate feeling that you certainly were not just hearing things that night. And based on the way James was acting, he knew you weren’t either. He’d been distant, staying up late every single night. He’d go to bed with you at first, only to get up and leave in the middle of the night at such unearthly hours you could hardly believe the clock. You tried to dismiss it the best you could, but it was getting harder to ignore.

So as soon as you had woken up today, you decided to talk with him about it. You’d thought a lot about just asking him, spouse to spouse. It was James, after all. You knew he wouldn’t get mad at you, by all means, but you just felt like he didn’t want to tell you for whatever reason. It was driving you mad.

-🤍-

“James?” your soft voice called out, startling James from his paperwork. He glanced up, his eyes landing on your frame as you stood in the doorway of his office. You were clad only in your silky robe and slippers, your hair still slightly disheveled from having just gotten out of bed. He was surprised, for it wasn’t often that he would see you in such a state. You would normally make yourself up before coming to see him in the mornings, as he generally got up earlier than you. It wasn’t a problem to him, though. In fact, he would never admit it, but he secretly adored you like this. You looked even more vulnerably pure than normal. That’s what James admired about you the most: your ability to remain such a source of light and hope; your maintaining of innocence when surrounded by darkness. No matter what you went through, you always seemed to find a way to come out shining. His beacon of hope.

He stared at your figure, taking a mental picture to forever remember this moment. He never wanted this to end. Even the thought that he was the only one that would ever get to see you in such a state excited him. Just the sight of you lit up his entire being in a way he didn’t even know was possible until he met you. He couldn’t help but think back to the time when he first realized how much you had impacted his life; how you’d made him fall apart in the best way imaginable. A particular day flooded his thoughts.

You stared at him with your doe eyes as he looked away from you. Even from his peripheral vision, he felt it. Just the thought of you sent a jolt to his heart. When he’d seen his father above you, he’d felt a rage so accumulative it felt as if he might implode on himself. But then all you’d asked him was a simple question, and yet he had no idea how to respond. How was he supposed to tell you that he thought his own abusive father was right? He couldn’t even swallow the fact that he agreed with his father, let alone tell you, the one who always managed to keep him from succumbing to the darkness. If it weren’t for you, he didn’t think he would have a real purpose to strive for.

He simply couldn’t tell you that everyone with whom you’d ever spoken to was probably using you for something other than a nice conversation. He’d met your family; and although they seemed picture-perfect, he knew their true intentions behind closed doors. He’d met the people of Los Angeles; he knew how they worked. It was all money and entitlement. They had planned to ship you off to a rich husband since you had been born.

He wanted to tear them apart. He wanted to do unspeakable things for the simple pleasure and satisfaction he’d get from it. You were the one who separated him from this unspeakably dark craving for blood that he felt. He’d known it even then; if you had somehow gotten taken from him, he wouldn’t stop himself any longer. He’d be lost in his darkness forever, and he would never find the light again.

“James?” you spoke again, and James snapped back to reality at the sound of your voice. He smiled at you, setting his pen down to give you his full attention.

“My my,” he said cheekily, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” You stood in your tracks for a moment, a slight pink coloring your cheeks as you pulled your robe tighter around you.

“I’ve come to ask you a question,” you said, deciding to just put it out there. James smile fell from his face at your serious demeanor, concerned curiosity clouding his features.

“Yes?” he asked, his accent drawing out the word in a way that sent shivers down your spine. You sighed, gathering your thoughts for a moment.

“Well, I’ve just been wondering recently,” you said, slowly making your way over to sit in the chair in front of his desk. “It’s not an extremely important thing, I just...” You trailed off, your words getting caught in your throat, lost in translation from your head as you stared at James.

“Darling, you can tell me anything,” James reassured, resting his hands together on the desk in front of him as he leaned forward slightly. You sighed once more, averting your eyes from his. You took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’d like to know where you’ve been going these last few nights, James,” you said, your voice filled with unintentional shakiness. You didn’t mean for all of your emotions to come out that way.

James faltered, the small smile on his face wiped away at your question. He didn’t know how to respond at first, his mind going through all of the possible excuses he could make. There was no way that he could ever tell you what he was actually doing. He feared your reaction too much.

“Darling,” James said, putting as much charm in his tone as he could. “I’ve already told you how behind I’ve been on paperwork.” You met his eyes once more, disbelief clear in your orbs. His own eyes widened slightly at your clear observance of his dishonesties. He didn’t anticipate that you wouldn’t believe him. Perhaps he’d underestimated your perceptive ability to catch liars.

He knew then that he’d have to tread carefully from here; he’d have to weigh his options. He couldn’t tell you the truth--for he feared the result. But genuinely lying to you? He knew, then, that that would only push you away. Lies were like bricks; they built and built and built until eventually a wedge formed. He didn’t want a wall with you. He didn’t want to ruin the only true connection he’d ever had.

It was ironic, how just moments before you’d asked, he’d been consumed with memories of the one other instance in which you forced him to answer to something he couldn’t. He never expected he’d be in this situation again. Yet here you were, once again, presenting to him a question in which he could not answer truthfully.

He didn’t want to take that look in your eyes away. He couldn’t. He couldn’t imagine what would happen to those eyes. Those eyes that had been his source of comfort for so long. He’d seen your shock when he killed your husband, but he’d gotten lucky. That was someone who had directly affected you; the man who had ruined your life. You had already wanted him gone. He didn’t want to imagine what you would think about him participating in a hobby in which taking life was the sport. He didn’t want to steal your light away by consuming you in his darkness. He feared the imbalance would destroy the life you’d just rebuilt together. What if he was too different now? What if his embrace of darkness repelled your light away?

“James,” you said softly, suddenly much closer to him. Your hands gently cupped his jaw as you stood directly in front of him. He blinked in confusion at his failure to notice your movement from one side of the desk to the other. He looked up at you questioningly.

James had been so lost in thought that it had frightened you slightly. You couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked. You shamed yourself for not thinking that he could just be stressed. James had a very hard job; he managed a new Los Angeles hotel that was constantly bustling with people of all kinds. You were obviously reading too much into it, and you realized that now. Sometimes you just couldn’t stop your anxieties caused by your last marriage, as much as you tried to. You cursed yourself for not thinking of him in all of this. You quickly enveloped the man into your arms, holding him in a comforting embrace.

“I understand,” you whispered softly. “I get that work can be overwhelming. I just wish you’d let me help rather than overworking yourself.” James sighed, his shoulders relaxing instantly. You smiled; your comfort was working.

“You are completely correct as always, darling,” James replied, pulling you to sit in his lap comfortably. “And I am terribly sorry for not spending the nights with you. My wish is not to make you feel lonely.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You laid your head on his shoulder, cuddling into him.

“It’s okay, James,” you said sweetly. “I know how hard you work. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” James gently brushed your hair away from your face.

“You truly are the most accommodating, dear,” James said lovingly. “What would I do without you?” Your grin felt splitting. Talking to James was the best decision you’d ever made.

You spent a few minutes just sitting there cuddled into James as he continued his work, basking in the warmth and love you felt from him. Your moment was interrupted when the door to his office opened abruptly.

“Mr. March,” a voice called, in which you recognized as Miss Evers. “Sorry to interrupt-” She paused when her eyes landed on you and James, her expression falling slightly. “I’m sorry, are you busy?” She asked, her eyes seeming to burn holes through you. You tightened your grip around James’ neck slightly. You didn’t like the way that she was looking at you.

“What does it look like?” James barked in response, visibly annoyed. Your eyes widened at his harsh tone as his hand gripped your waist tighter. Miss Evers grimaced.

“Well, you see,” she started hesitantly, “you have a delivery for floor seven.” James’ grip loosened at her words, his expression changing to one of understanding. You sat up, pulling away from James slightly.

“I see,” he said to her before looking to you. “Darling, I’m afraid that I have some business to attend to.” You nodded and stood from his lap, walking with him as you both made your way out of the room and to the elevator.

“Well, I am going to get freshened up,” you smiled at James, planting a kiss on his cheek before you got off onto your floor. He grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it in return, smiling at you charmingly. You briefly glanced at Miss Evers again, your mood faltering once again at her steely glare. You didn’t understand why she was glaring at you, but it was beginning to worry you. You looked back at James, catching one last glance at his charming grin before the elevator doors closed.

-🤍-

Many hours had passed and you hadn’t seen James since the morning. It was half past five o’clock when you began to worry about his absence. You’d expected him to be kept busy with his work for most of the day, but it was unusual to have not heard from him by five P.M. It’s not that you were always worried about him, it’s just that you knew him. He was very adamant about your nightly dinners at six.

Usually he always sent Miss Evers to remind you around five, but you hadn’t heard a peep the entire day, aside from the morning. You had a sneaking suspicion that the woman held some type of grudge against you. She always spoke to you in curt language, and occasionally she’d give rudely blunt comments, but it was only when you were one on one. You had noticed how her behavior changed around James. It was like she was constantly trying to impress the man. It made sense, as he was her boss, but sometimes it really got under your skin in a way you didn’t like. You didn’t want to hold a grudge against the woman; truly, she seemed quite lovely. You just didn’t understand what she held against you to treat you in such a way.

So, needless to say, despite not hearing from the maid, you’d prepared yourself like normal anyway. You knew James wouldn’t forget dinner, it just wasn’t like him. After you made yourself up, you headed out to your normal dining room to meet James. You were surprised to arrive to an empty table, however. You had been wrong. James did forget. You were genuinely surprised. You stood in your tracks, wracking your brain to figure out where he may be. You decided the best place to start would probably be the most obvious place, his office.

Upon arriving at the floor, you immediately felt that something was off. The entire floor seemed vacant. You walked timidly down the dark hallway, your eyes scanning around you warily. It had seemed like a maze of dark passages, leading on and on in silence, until finally you heard a semblance of life. It sounded like a shuffling at first, until you were close enough to the door of his office that you could hear a noise that almost sounded like sawing. Your curiosity spiraled, and ultimately, it won over the wariness you felt.

When the door opened wide enough for you to see, your eyes first landed on James’ back, taking in his rapid movement. His arm pumped backward and forward, his body driving the force to drive a saw through bone. Dark red coated his shirt, as well as the floor and area surrounding, and at first glance you could’ve sworn that the carpet was just regularly that color. You only briefly got to watch his movement, because it was as if he sensed your presence unconsciously, even as quiet as you had been. James eyes met yours, and he seemed to have frozen in space and time. He simply stared for a few seconds, before he dropped the saw and faced you.

“Darling, I--,” he started, choking over his words in shock. Your eyes took in the scene once more, the bloody corpse hard to ignore. A few moments of silence passed between you.

“James,” you said breathily. Your feet shuffled forward until you were standing only a few feet in front of him. Your smaller hand grabbed his larger one, feeling his rough callouses against your soft palm. “Is this what you’ve been keeping from me?” His eyes met yours and you saw the answer in them. You were right.

It all made sense to you now. All that time he’d been gone, he’d been here. It was obvious to you now why he didn’t want to tell you what he had been doing.

“You’re not...” he trailed off for a moment, his eyebrows raised uncertainly. “Afraid of me?” he finished. Your mouth opened in shock at the fact that you hadn’t realized what he had presumed your reaction to this would be. He thought this would scare you off. He thought that you would see this as a negative thing. He thought you’d think he was a crazy murderer just like all other common people would.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

You stared at him in disbelief. He expected you to fear him, to run away from the violence simply for it being violence; to hide from real reason. Did he not think that you would see the truth behind this? The truth being that he’d built an empire from the ground off of ash and dust. He’d climbed up the chain of players until he was at the very top, crowned king. Not to mention that all while doing so, he’d profited majorly, but not only that... he’d became a true god.

You understood now. Being a god wasn’t about riches or the simple power of being respected... it was a service. A service of repenting sin in the truest way possible: punishment. James had been chosen; picked out from the crowd for his vision of truth, for his undying ability to see men for what they were: sinners. Men were first placed on Earth just for the simplest sin of knowledge--and any act after knowledge might as well be considered evil. From then the men of the world raised generation after generation of sinners: users, abusers, liars. You and James had been included in that crowd. You’d both been raised to sin, but you knew now that you were special, for you had been enlightened. You were not ignorant like the most. You saw the true darkness in the world, and understood that it needed to be handled. You were chosen.

You stared at James, a newfound admiration for him arising. He really was special, and yet he couldn’t even completely see it. You didn’t understand how anyone could be so blind so as to not see the utter power he withheld in the palm of his hands. His hands, in which were the epitome of jurisdiction. They were judge, jury, and executioner, and every life they took served a god’s purpose. They offered utter release of darkness for all those chosen by him, freeing them from their evil natures. Other people might see danger in James, but all you saw was glory. That, you thought, was the misconception of death. Many viewed it as a robbery, but it wasn’t that. It was a true freedom, a release of all sins, and those who did not see that were clouded by their selfish desires and greediness. It was an act of nature. An act of God.

You smiled at James, squeezing his hand, before leaning forward to place your forehead against his.

“No,” you whispered, your breath hot against his lips. “No, I’m not afraid. There’s nothing to fear... murder isn’t always evil like most think, especially if it’s a service. James, you aren’t a sinner for releasing others from their sins... James, you are a god...”

James froze in his place, a shiver running up his spine. Usually, he resented religion. But the way you had explained it sparked something entirely different within him. He felt an electricity run through his entire body, igniting his veins in a way no drug ever could. His arms wrapped around you, quickly pulling you flush against him.

No one had ever said something so logical to him. He’d run into many people who preached religion and he despised every one of them. His thoughts were like yours: they were all sinners anyway, so how could they support a holy God? It was hypocritic, and James hated every one of them for it. It was the entire reason that he’d started his new project to mimic on the Bible’s Ten Commandments. However he’d never talked to you about religion, for he knew you’d grown up in a church and generally avoided the enraging subject. But you’d given him a new perspective with your words. He was a god. He held all the power that men reserved just for their one and only God in his hands. He could take any life if he wanted to, with nothing stopping him. He’d realized his power before, but he’d never thought of himself in that way. All those men praying to their god while at his knees might as well be praying to him. When he took a life, he released that person from evil. He held the true power.

He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. He and you had always seemed like polar opposites. That’s part of what he thought was so attractive about you. But it was much more than that. Of course it was. He and you were more similar than he’d ever thought. You completed his image, and he expanded off of yours. Your perspective put a whole new sense to the world that he’d never known. You were light, and he was dark, but together... you were something entirely different. He’d thought that he had had everything figured out perfectly, but oh how wrong he had been. You explained it in a way that he never could have thought of himself. His Y/N... you were so much more than he had ever really known. That mystery excited him undeniably.

His hands gripped your waist tightly as his lips crashed into yours. You gasped into the kiss, for you’d never, in all your time together, received such passion from James. He kissed you almost bruisingly, pouring every ounce of his being into it. His arms left your sides and before you knew it, he was hoisting you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. You clung to him tightly, kissing back just as fiercely as you felt the tension between the two of you build. Your cheeks were flushed from the heat as he carried you across the room, too caught up in him to see where you were going.

He set you down and pinned you against the wall, rattling the table next to you. His arms were like a cage around you. A loud shattering was the only thing to interrupt you, breaking your kiss as you both turned to see the vase that was on the table now on the floor. The glass was scattered everywhere, the white roses it withheld strewn out across the floor as the water spread. You both stood staring at the vase for a few moments before you wrapped your arms around James’ neck again.

“Leave it,” you whispered, pressing your fingers into his back as you tugged him close once more. Your lips met again, just as intense as before, before he began his journey to kissing your neck. You panted, a sheen of sweat already glistening on your skin and he’d barely done anything. “James,” you pleaded, “I need you.”

James pulled away smirking, his hands traveling down your sides slowly.

“Oh darling, you have a long night ahead of you.”

A long night it was indeed, eventually moved from that spot and into the bedroom, the vase and roses left broken but undisturbed.

---

Series Masterlist: The Garden of Eden Series

Main Masterlist

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 4 years

Text

Rings

Title: Rings

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1957

Square Filled: Fake Marriage

Summary: “What happens when the right guy comes along, see’s that ring, and high tails it out here?” – “I never thought about that. I guess, if he’s the right one, he’d stick around long enough to find out that the ring is a fake.”

Warnings: Fluff, Dash of Angst, Douche Bags, Rifle, Threats, Drunk Guys, Gross Guys, Some Explicit Language, and Lying…

Written for @spndeanbingo

Disclaimer: Not my gif.

A/N: I am really proud of this fic. I feel like it’s not exactly what you’d expect from the Fake Marriage trope. At least, that’s what I think. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! This last fic concludes my SPN Dean Bingo 2019 Card! I made it just in time!! Happy Reading!! xx

The day had been a total shit show, and all you wanted to do was to have a seat at a bar, have someone else make your drinks, and get hammered! Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was. You’d only been in the, over twenty-one, establishment for merely ten minutes and there had already been one guy that had the nerve to interrupt your “me time,” and now thirty minutes in, another dumbass was trying to talk you up.

“Hey there good lookin’. You seem a little stressed. Can I buy you another drink?”

“Sorry pal, I just want to be alone,” you told him, not bothering to give him a second glance (not that you gave him a first one.)

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be shy, let me just one drink?” He persisted.

“Seriously, I’m good right now,” you tried to remain calm.

“Alright, but if you change your mind, my friends and I are sitting by the juke box. Feel free to join us at any time,” he whispered, as if he thought he was being seductive. It was quite the opposite. His breath was rancid, and the stench coming off of him was just as criminal. You wondered how he could live with himself smelling like roadkill!

“Thanks,” was your only reply, letting out a heavy sigh when he left.

“Some guys just can’t take a hint,” the bartender tsked, her hands placed on the bar top in front of you. You looked up to meet the older lady looking past you, most likely at the group of guys that pig was hanging around with. “Mmm,” she hummed, a look of disgust in her face, “those fellas are one repulsive bunch aren’t they?”

A small smile cracked on your lips, glad that someone was on your side, not that anyone was against you to begin with, but still… this woman just made you feel a little better and you appreciated it.

“You didn’t smell him…” you murmured, slightly shaking your head side to side with trauma.

The older woman laughed. “The name is Ellen. I’m the owner of this bar.”

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come in hear before,” the older woman stated. “And if you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like the type to come into dive bars. What happened?”

Letting out a defeated sigh, you met her chocolate brown eyes. “Figured going to a bar was a thing to do when shit hits the fan and you just want to drink it all away. I mean, I see it happen all the time in the movies, so I thought… why not? There’s a first time for everything. The only thing that’s different is that the main character in the movies don’t have to deal with drunk gross guys. The girl usually meets that cool mysterious strangers in a suit or leather jacket.”

Ellen laughed at your perception on bars. “Sweetheart, real life ain’t like the movies. Real life actually sucks. So… I have to asked,” she started, “why are you here instead of with your man?”

You looked up at her confused. “Man?”

“The ring. Your husband,” Ellen clarified.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Oh… that.”

“Yeah, that. What’s the deal? You don’t seem very happy.”

“Honestly, I don’t have a husband. I got out of a nasty relationship a while back and have sworn off men for the time being,” you confessed. “This is fake ring I bought off of Amazon. I wear it to ward off guys, which apparently doesn’t work on idiots.”

“What happens when the right guy comes along, see’s that ring, and high tails it out here?” Ellen question, the notion not once crossing your mind.

“I never thought about that. I guess, if he’s the right one, he’d stick around long enough to find out that the ring is a fake,” you shrugged, hoping your answer made enough sense to her, and you.

“Well, I wish you good luck kiddo,” Ellen smiled before having to help another customer.

Through the night, you got to know more about Ellen and the bar. The bar had been her late husband’s dream, but he unfortunately passed before he could even begin to see it’s possibility. In tribute and remembrance of the love of her life, she bought the bar, fixed it up, threw their name in front of it, “Harvelle’s”, in blinking lights, and eventually it also became her dream. She and her daughter ran the joint, along with a few employees.

You were working on your third drink of the night, trading in your whiskey for a fruity cocktail drink this time – a strawberry daiquiri. Honestly. You were a little surprised that a small town dive bar had it on the menu, but you didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. You just wanted to enjoy the slight buzz you were feeling.

As you sipped your cocktail, a large figure planted themselves beside your left, but you didn’t bother to acknowledge their presence. All you hoped was that whoever it was, would leave you alone. The only company worthy of your attention was Ellen, your new found friend.

“Hi, what’s your name?”

You rolled your eyes at the interruption. “Sorry, I’m married,” you lifted your hand, exposing the evident ring on your finger.

“I don’t mind,” his hand closed over yours.

At that moment, you snapped, snatching your hand from his grasp and shooting him a death glare. “What kind of woman do you take me for?” You asked with offense. The man next to you was burly, with a beard like a homeless man, shirt wrinkled and most likely unwashed, and his hair was greasy. Why did you always attract the uncivilized ones?

“The kind of woman that likes to have fun,” he wiggled his eyebrows, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Please, just leave me alone,” you told him, bringing your attention back to your drink.

“Oh, c’mon. Let me show you a good time. You might be surprised at how much you’ll like it… and I know you’ll really like it,” he cooed, his tone over suggestive.

“Seriously, back—”

Before you could finish, another man showed up. “Didn’t you hear the woman say she’s married?” The new stranger hissed, slamming his left hand down on the bar top, a gold band around his ring finger. “Now, I suggest you back off of my wife before you get yourself hurt.”

You were shocked to say the least. This stranger was different than all the men you’ve come across the whole day. From your pig of a boss, to the scumbags littering the bar, this man was something else. He was dangerously handsome, scruff littering his jaw, emerald eyes hard and demanding, and god… he smelled good… and looked good. His expansive chest and shoulders clad in red plaid, which was definitely his color.

Wow.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” The disgusting man barked, standing to his full height. He was much larger than the handsome stranger, who didn’t seem to be scared at all. “You think a small fella like you can take me?”

It was true. The guy was much bigger than Mr. Smell’s so Delicious. He towered him several inches.

“I’ve taken down bigger,” Mr. Gorgeous Green Eyes scoffed unfazed.

The gross guy took a step forward and Sex God in Plaid didn’t flinch one bit. If you were being honest with yourself, you found yourself getting a little turned on.

“Alright, cut the crap,” Ellen came barreling in, a rifle in hand. “This is my bar and I will not condone to any sort of rough housing.” The asshole took a step back, but your Knight in Shining Armor didn’t seem at all worried. “You…” Ellen’s spoke to the creep, “… you and your buddies has harassed this poor girl long enough. Pay your bill and get out, before I shoot every single one of you between the legs. Her husband is here and she no longer needs your company.”

The beautiful stranger draped his arm over your shoulder protectively, staring down the creeper. “You heard the nice the lady, get out!” He growled.

The man didn’t hesitate to hightail it back to his group of friends. You watched as they quickly pulled out several bills before rushing out of the establishment. Your jaw dropped in surprise, thoroughly impressed at how both Ellen and Mysterious Perfection handled the situation.

“You alright?” the deepness of his voice vibrated through your body, causing heat to crawl up your cheeks.

“Uh.. y-yeah. I mean, yes. Thank you,” you offered a small smile. God, he was so handsome it almost made it hard to even look at him.

“Y/N, this is my nephew Dean. Dean this is my new friend Y/N. Take care of her for the night would’ya? She thinks life is supposed to be like those romantic comedy movies,” she teased, sending you a wink.

The action did nothing to settle your nerves or alleviate the tension raking over your body. In fact, she made it worse.

“A rom-com chick? Oh, no,” he laughed. “Should I be worried?”

The playful tone in his voice surprisingly put you at ease. “What’s wrong with rom-coms?” You scoffed, nudging his arm off your shoulder. “Don’t you have a wife you should be attending to?”

“A wife? Nah. I’m a free man, Y/N,” Dean gloated, taking a seat beside you. If he didn’t just save you from that douche, you would think he was an arrogant ass, but something about him told you that he was a genuinely good guy. Plus, if Ellen was entrusting him to take care of you, he must be a good man.

“Then what’s with the ring?”

Dean chuckled. “It belonged to my father. He passed away to cancer a few years back,” he confessed.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you suddenly became timid.

“He wasn’t the greatest father, but he did his best you know? Besides, if it wasn’t for him, me and my brother wouldn’t be the people we are today. Little brother is a lawyer and I’ve got my own chain of auto shops around the country.”

“Wow. Impressive.”

“I guess. All that matters is that I’m pretty happy, you know? Anyways, what’s your story? Where’s your husband?”

This time, it was your turn to laugh. “Not married either. I swore of men a couple of years ago after I was humiliatingly dumped from my ex-fiancé. He cheated on me with his boss. When I called our relationship off, he took the ring and everything else. All he left me was my car and what ever was left of my dignity… which let me tell you, isn’t much.”

“Fuck. That’s harsh. What a douche bag!”

“Tell me about it,” you puffed out in defeat.

“Ah, screw him. You deserve better anyway. A tough girl like you don’t need a weak man like him.”

“Oh yeah? And what kind of man do I deserve?” you taunted, giving him your full attention.

A sly smirk stretched across his face. “Let me take you out tomorrow and I’ll show you.”

“Smooth,” you giggled, and Dean was laughing too.

“I’m serious. Let me take you out. You won’t regret it.”

You looked up at him with a wide smile on your face. “I have the utmost confidence that I won’t.”

Dean grinned. “Looks like we got ourselves a hot date!”

Again, you couldn’t control the laughter bubbling inside of you. He was a dork and you found it being far more attractive than you expected. You were looking forwards to that date.

Looks like it was time for the ring to come off.

A/N: My SPN Dean Bingo 2019 Card is officially complete! YAY! I hope you all liked the fics, and I hope you liked this last installment! If you did, please like and reblog! Leave some feedback! I would really appreciate it! Stay beautiful everyone! xx

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pudding-head-kenma · 4 years

Text

Drink up, Sweetheart [ Kuroo x Reader ]

You’re overly aware of your footsteps.

Every little sound is completely deafening to you.

As you walk through the forest, you can hear every time you step on a leaf – you can hear the way it crunches and shatters. You can hear every time you step into a puddle, small as it may be – you’re aware of the gentle splash behind you, and of the way the water hits the foliage around. You can hear the muffled sound of stepping into dry dirt, and the sounds become so much more overwhelming when you start hearing the quiet echo of your shoes hitting the stone steps.

Your heart is faster than you, speeding and thumping against your chest in such a violent manner you’re worried it might just leap out of your mouth. If not for the loud steps, you might have even been able to hear it desperately knocking, desperately asking you to turn around.

Yet every time you come back.

Why are you here again?

Reaching the end of the steps, you stop right in front of the door. It’s silent for a few seconds, a nice contrast to the previous echoing, but that peace is soon replaced by the loud wind you’re suddenly aware of. All these sounds make you tense, and if you stopped to think about it for a single second more you would realise it’s because you’re anxious about being back.

But when it comes to Kuroo, you never have a choice.

You hesitate. You’re familiar with the door in front of you, your body could run on auto pilot at this point. You know the feeling of lifting the door metal knocker, as familiar as you are with the sound of it hitting the door, alerting the person inside to your presence. And suddenly, the memory of that sound seems far too real. You find yourself having done just that, fingers grasping the metal roughly as your hand struggles to stop shaking.

It takes him exactly fifteen seconds to open the door, and it feels like you waited a whole hour. At the same time, it feels like you didn’t wait at all, as if he had already been there waiting for you. The contradictory feelings currently battling inside of you are ironic, considering whom you’re visiting, but that thought is quickly pushed aside as the door swings open ever so slowly, revealing a knowing smirk.

You tense up again, eyes focusing on the mischievous, almost cocky expression in front of you. Yet again, you’re struggling to pick a side – does it annoy you, knowing he’s aware of the effect he has on you and knew you’d come back? Does it make your heart speed up to see such a beautiful man focusing his entire attention you? Is it anxiety, or is it something else? Is it good, or is it bad?

Your eyes trail down his body, and you almost want to laugh at the ridiculous situation in front of you. As expected, he’s dressed in nothing more than a robe, arms crossed over his chest as he leans a shoulder against the doorframe. If you were to look up at his expression, no doubt his smirk would have widened, and you’re sure his eyebrow rose in a teasing manner. He’s waiting for you to speak.

But your thoughts wander, thinking about all the other men and women he often receives at his house, with the same intentions as you. You think about the last time one could have been with him, and suddenly the loosely tied robe sickens you. Could it mean someone else was just here? Your expression must have changed, perhaps your eyebrows are furrowed and you’re glaring at the ground, maybe your whole body tensed up without you noticing, but whatever it was has him break his usual silence and take the initiative to initiate the dialogue.

“I can hear you thinking, Sweetheart.”

His voice is rough, yet sweet at the same time. It reminds you of the burn of wine down your throat, accompanied by a fruity flavour left on your lips. His whole existence is contradictory. But that doesn’t matter to you, if the way you looked up excitedly was any indication. You suppose you should be confused, jealous, even angry. But it’s impossible. After all, he is not yours to claim in such a selfish manner. Or... Well, that doesn’t sound like something you’d normally say.

Ah.

It’s starting already.

He sees your frown waver ever so slightly, and the corner of your lips curl up into a gentle smile. He smiles, too, taking a step closer and wrapping his long fingers delicately around your wrist. He moves swiftly, reminding you of the feeling of being pulled along by a rushing river, and you find yourself pressed against his chest with the door closing soundlessly behind the two of you. Either that, or you’ve stopped paying attention to anything that isn’t him.

Your body moves on its own, desperately clinging to the man in front of you. The thought makes you chuckle – to call him a man should be a sin. Your arms wrap around him, bringing him in closer. He allows himself to be manoeuvred around, tilts his neck to the side obediently as he watches you move to rest your head there, inhaling and relaxing further into his embrace.

He’s smirking again, you’re sure of it.

“I thought yesterday was the last time.”

“Mmm.” You mutter out quietly in response, barely paying attention to anything he’s saying anymore. You just crave the feeling he gives you, the relaxing buzz you get from being near him. Your whole body feels useless, and you’re falling. You aren’t sure how you can be falling from how tightly you were holding onto him, but you refuse to open your eyes, the rush of wind on your cheeks making you chuckle.

He’s gentle with you, he always is. You can faintly process that the rush of wind is him lying you down on the couch, making sure you won’t fall to the floor from the overwhelming feeling that radiates from him. When you’re like this, he looks at you differently. He doesn’t offer you any smirks, instead there’s a gentle smile on his lips as he brushes his fingers against your cheek and watches you lean in and chase after the soft touches.

You’re breathing heavily when he walks away. It leaves you in a panicked state, as if you’re suddenly unaware of your surroundings. You try to get up, but your body is far too weak now. You’d like to scream out for him and ask where he is, but your throat is dry. Your head is pounding violently, and you feel as if you’ve woken up from the worst hangover of your entire life.

Until he returns with a glass of water.

It’s almost comical, to have the God of Wine offer you a plain cup of water, but you can’t exactly say you’re surprised. He has lived among humans for a really long time, surely he knows by now how to act against the effect he has on others. As much as he knows how to take advantage of it and allow others to enjoy it, he’s still aware of how fragile humans can be. The worry in his eyes gives that fact away far more easily than anyone would have expected.

“Haven’t I taught you before, Sweetheart? You can’t rush like this.” He scolds, holding your body up as he forces you to gulp down the water. There’s no bitterness to his voice, yet the atmosphere feels heavy. You know, of course. You know why he’s telling you that, and you can remember the numerous explanations he has given you on the matter, but you can’t help yourself.

You can never help yourself when it’s Kuroo.

It’s like a wave of emotions washes through you as soon as your eyes meet – the fear and excitement merge together, the jealousy and want become one and the same, the patience disappears and gives its place to rushing. You lose part of yourself whenever you’re together, but you gain a part of him at the same time.

“Maybe you should teach me again.” You manage to murmur once your throat loosens up, and once again you watch as he shifts from a tender expression to a suggestive one. He knows your strategy, but never comments on it. It’s always the same game with the two of you. In reality, you have no real power over him, yet you always act as if you’re in control.

What’s even better is that he lets you do just that.

“My, my. When did you become so stubborn?” He’s teasing again, the change in tone is evident, and suddenly the strong smell of fruity wine comes back and hits you like a truck, no doubt stronger than it had been before. Your body moves on its own once more, reaching for the intoxicating feeling, but Kuroo takes a step back.

And if you whine, neither of you say anything about it.

“Now, Sweetheart...” He drags out that nickname in the most annoying manner to you – it bugs you that he will rarely use your name. You can’t help yourself from over thinking such a small detail, but there’s a sudden bitter flavour on your tongue. Perhaps the reason he avoids your name is because he’s afraid of confusing the parade of humans he brings home every day.

You find yourself slapping his hand in order to get him away from you. Standing up abruptly from the couch makes the entire room spin, and it takes Kuroo a mere second to be by your side and wrap an arm around your waist to support you. And you feel ridiculous, because it takes you just as long to cling to him all over again.

He’s chuckling.

“Ah, don’t tell me this was your plan all along? You sure have gotten craftier over the months.” He’s murmuring into your ear, and the buzzing becomes increasingly louder, your heart is thumping furiously again from how close he is. Do you want him closer, or do you want to push him? The hands gripping his robe desperately seem to decide on their own. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” His words are certainly empty promises, yet somehow they feel like a sweet declaration of affections. You almost cry.

Almost.

He takes a step away yet again once you’re able to stand on your own, but unlike last time he doesn’t move away completely. His hand trails up your waist towards your neck, brushing over the skin ever so faintly you can barely feel his fingers at all. His nails run over your neck just enough to have a shiver run up your spine, and that seems to be enough for him to move his hand again, cupping your cheek. He’s glancing at you with nothing but care in his eyes, and you wonder how such an insane creature could hold such a loving, human expression.

All the years with humans must have made him an excellent liar.

“Slowly, this time. Drink slowly, my Sweetheart.”

You want to refuse, but you’re far from that sane state of mind. Instead, you’re lingering on his words, ‘my sweetheart’ playing over and over again in your head, fuzzy images of him flashing so obscenely that you see yourself forced to open your eyes. That’s the third time today you’ve closed your eyes without noticing.

He’s closer.

Not close enough, but closer. You swallow, a huff leaves your lips and you take a step closer as well. One of his eyebrows rises in warning, no doubt telling you to go slower. You know already, you’ve been doing this for long enough to know. You’ve waited long enough, and you give him that hint by tilting your head away from his touch, instead reaching your hand out to him. He understands you – he always does, after all. You force yourself to swallow down the ‘he has had experience, after all’ at the tip of your tongue.

His lips are pressing against the back of your hand, and you feel a shiver crawling down your spine. Your blood heats up, and you feel the wonderful fuzzy feeling returning. This time, however, it grows slower, like the feeling of going up a big curve on a rollercoaster, knowing the drop will be intense.

He’s observing you intensely, and you’re not sure if he’s taking pleasure in your reactions or watching out to make sure you’re okay. How can you be sure when it comes to him? There are so many tales of Dionysus, so many different versions of the person he claimed, claims and will claim to be. Which of them did you fall for? The easy going guy, or the insane one? The overly sexual, or the gentle lover? The parties, wine and ecstasy, or the relaxing wine harvest? If they are all the same person, did you fall for both sides?

When you come back to it, he’s only a few inches away from you. The buzz is definitely more intense now, and you can almost feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head from the immense pleasure you feel. It’s so different from being drunk, but yet that’s the only think you can describe it as. His fingers grab your chin, and you follow obediently like a leaf caught in the wind as he brings you in closer. You can barely keep your eyes open to look at him, but he seems satisfied. Somehow, that makes you happy. Proud.

“That’s right, look at me. Good, baby.”

You scoff, and it’s not that his words are particularly funny, it’s just that you feel like shoving him away all over again. Baby this, sweetheart that, but never your name. Why can’t he just remember your name? Do you mean nothing to him?

And you’re unaware that as much as you wonder about which one of Kuroo’s personalities and existences you fell for, he wonders the same for you. Does he like the caring, gentle and clingy person that visits him anxiously, or the jealous human that drips of anxiety and urgency? Does he enjoy the trust you give him, or the doubt you have that keeps the spark alive? And once more, if they are all the same person, did he fall for both sides?

“Stop.” He pleads softly, brushing your lips together and pulling away just before you can kiss. That sends a rush of adrenaline through your body, and the anticipation of kissing him grows faster than you expect – it’s always the same, you never remember the feeling until you’re stuck in the middle of it again. “Don’t think about anyone else. Just me. Get drunk on me, Sweetheart.”

And he leans in to kiss you.

This time, it’s you that leans away from him.

It’s almost worth it, the way his face contorts in confusion for the first time since you’ve known him, but on the other hand it left you feeling angry at yourself. You could have had the exact feeling you were after. But you’re selfish, and you may just never get it again.

“My name...” You plead quietly, desperately clinging to him as your legs shake. “Say my name.”

“Y/N.”

The lack of hesitation shocks you, and your eyes are widening comically as he reaches forward to kiss you, leaving you no room to move away this time. Unbeknown to you, his kisses tell a story. While you’re focusing on the energised feeling it gives you, on the sweet taste of alcohol dancing around on your tongue, Kuroo tries to express himself in ways he’s unable to with words.

He lacks the right words to explain to you he has not been with anyone else since you’ve met, finds himself unable to explain the nicknames are for you specifically, and he gives up on explaining that he can’t say your name because it almost has the same effect on him that his presence has on you. He can’t tell if you’re drunk on him or on what he represents, but he knows for a fact he’s drunk on you. And that’s a problem.

It’s night before you notice. You don’t remember getting into bed with him, but you feel oddly comforted in his embrace. For all his faults, for all his sleeping around and his constant display of sexuality, he never once touched you while you’re in this state. Not that you haven’t tried, but it seems it goes against his morals. You faintly remember him whispering that’s he’s worried about what it could do to you, to be so intimate when a kiss is enough to have you black out, but you shrug his words off as you know them to be all for show.

Or, well, you think they’re all for show anyway. He knows them to be true. And it’s funny to him, that he’d say something like that to you and you’re still capable of thinking he sleeps with other people – after all, if he did, he’d know the effect he has on humans that are intimate with him, wouldn’t he?

That, of course, never crosses your mind.

You’re suddenly sober. It seems the effect has passed.

As comfortable as you feel, as incredibly warm as his chest feels against your skin, as protected as you feel in his embrace you’re standing up abruptly before thinking about it too much. His eyes open, and he’s glancing at you curiously.

At the end of your sessions together, he always has the same look on his face. It’s not teasing, and it’s not sated. There’s an underlying sadness you’re unable to detect, but one he knows is there. This is the worst part for him.

“I have to go.”

“You don’t have to go, Sweetheart. You just want to go.”

You flinch. There it is again – he’s unable to call you by your name. It fuels your rage even further, the long night of drinking completely washing away the multiple times he had murmured your name lovingly throughout the night, the sweet kisses he had pressed to your cheeks while telling you how much he loves you, telling you how much it hurts him to see you go.

You never remember, but he always does.

His hand rises up slightly from the bed, almost as if he’s going to reach out to you. With a defeated chuckle, he brings it back down, knowing there’s no point in trying to argue with you. It’s a shame, really, he had hoped you could gaze at the stars like you did on the third night you were there.

“I have to, this was a mistake.”

He smiles. Yeah, you always tell him that.

“I know.”

There’s silence for a little while. Neither of you want to speak up, but you know what you have to do.

“This was the last time, Kuroo.”

You put on your jacket as fast as humanly possible, and rush towards the front door to put on your shoes. You don’t spare him a second glance, but you take notice of how he doesn’t even leave his bedroom, surely still in bed and resting so that the next person can come over. Once you’re ready to go, you walk through the front door and slam it shut, now ignoring every little sound you were so aware of before.

It was the last time. It was nice while it lasted.

Kuroo stays in bed, his arm dropped over his eyes as he lies still. He can’t exactly tell if he’s crying or not, but he doesn’t move his arm in fear of finding out. Instead, he forces a smile back on his face, his whole body shaking as he laughs. It’s not funny, he’s not sure if it’s anxiety or fear, if it’s him being nervous or angry. He just laughs.

One day, he might find he’s wrong, that he doesn’t know you, that he’s not as addicting as he thinks, and that you won’t come back.

But today, however, he’s sure of it. So he allows himself to whisper when he knows you’re more than far away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*

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swtorpadawan · 3 years

Text

Awakenings - Chapter 8 : Small Favors

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

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

He, of course, had been amazing.

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

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

But she understood.

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

Not to her.

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

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

That was one.

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

That was two.

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

That was three.

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

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

Not ever again.

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

Not that his posture fooled her.

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

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

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

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

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

“You wanted to meet?” she continued.

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

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

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

Theron gestured to Kira.

“Go ahead and order. My treat.”

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

“Tatooine Sunset, if you please.”

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

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

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

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

“Tatooine Sunset? Really?” he chuckled.

She suppressed a cringe at the memory.

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

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

Oh, and the sand had gotten everywhere.

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

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

“Just a quiet corner, Captain. Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“To new beginnings?”

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

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

“So. You wanted to chat?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I take it that thing is jamming us?”

Theron nodded in confirmation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theron scratched behind his head as he sipped his whiskey.

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

He bit his lip, trying to find the words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He paused in consideration.

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

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

“Neither have I.”

Theron blinked and sat back in his seat.

“What, really?”

Kira’s expression now widened into her trademark smirk.

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

Kira immediately cringed and shot Theron an apologetic look.

“Uhm. No offense.”

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

“Ugh. None taken.”

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

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

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

Theron chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will. When I’m ready.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theron sat back with an impressed look.

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

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

I miss Scourge. How messed up is that?

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

“Must have been tough.” Theron chuckled.

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

Theron sat up, intrigued.

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

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

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

She leaned back, her brow furrowing.

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

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

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

She let out a chuckle at him.

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

Kira looked up wistfully at Theron.

“Because losing wasn’t an option.”

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

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

“It always is.”

Theron sat dumbstruck, looking at her sympathetically.

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

Kira just shrugged helplessly.

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

She let that settle in.

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

She looked up at him.

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

Theron nearly coughed out his whiskey.

“What?” he stammered. “Why?”

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

The former spy cursed. “Dammit.”

Kira’s lips quirked but her eyes remained downcast.

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

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

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

Kira shook her head.

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

He deserved the truth. For better and for worse.

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

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

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

Kira scowled at Theron in annoyance. His obtuseness grated.

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

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

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

Kira felt the pings of guilt at his reaction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theron scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes narrowed on those of the former Republic agent.

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

Theron shook his head vigorously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? How’d that work out?”

Kira eyed him knowingly as she sipped her drink.

“You tell me.”

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

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

Kira reached out and squeezed his hand again.

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

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

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

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

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

Was I using him all that time, too?

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

I am not the lost child anymore.

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

She frowned, then looked back up at Theron.

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

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

“Want to hear a funny story?”

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

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

He stared blankly at the table.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theron shrugged. “Hit me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theron looked apologetic.

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

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

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

Theron nodded and sat back in relief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theron rolled his eyes.

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

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

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

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

That got another chuckle from Theron.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theron groaned, head falling forward in his arms.

“Force. I need another drink.”

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

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

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

“That’s my job, Theron.”

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

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

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

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

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

Should I really trust him with this?

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

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

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

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

The former SIS agent’s jaw dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She closed her eyes and bit her lip.

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

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

She set the empty glass down.

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

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

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

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

They were just living.

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

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

“That he can finally just live.”

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

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

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

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

“I know.” She had no illusions regarding the state of the galaxy, or of people’s natures. There’d always be someone causing trouble who needed to be dealt with, just as there’d always be someone out there who needed help.

But maybe – maybe – someone else could be the one to answer the bell when it rang.

“Okay.” Theron nodded. “I promise you: I’ll do everything in my power to find a way to make that future happen.” He looked back at her a bit puzzled. “I do wonder about one thing: What will he become if he’s not the hero?”

Kira bit her lip, then finished off her own drink.

“I dunno. I just know I’ll be there for him when it happens.” She looked down at the last drop of whiskey in her glass, then back up at him.

“Thanks for the drinks.” she offered.

“Well, thank you for the favors.” He smiled, raising his glass to her in a toast.

She grinned, picking up her own glass and clinking it to his for the second time that day.

“What’s a few small favors between friends?”

_________________________________________________

Author’s Notes: For the record, having your girlfriend come back into your life does not magically heal someone of trauma. But sometimes, it does help, especially when you’re the type of person who has a difficult time sharing their issues with others.

For those who’ve missed it, I am diverging dramatically from the storyline post-KOTET. Kira running with a resistance movement during the five-year gap was alluded to in the Master Ranos conversations but was then ignored or abandoned. The ‘Traitor’ arc basically doesn’t happen here with corresponding changes to other events.