Angsty smut. Just write and edit later. Seriously. Who cares if it's bad. All of that can be edited out.
Ana easily throws her punches at the bag. It swings back with the force of her hit, but she's developed a routine. A pattern. Hit. Swing. Hit. Swing. Reyes face. His terribly beautiful golden eyes. Hit. Swing. Hit. Fuck me. When did this lust turn into love? When did it swing so hard, it hit her with the force of rocks? She rounds on her foot to deliver one last blow to the poor bag.
It swings out of control, colliding heavily with her body and knocking her off balance. "Do you need help, Pathfinder?" Jaal's voice asks from above her head. She tilts her chin up to look at him.
"Ana. Call me Ana." Jaal extends a hand which she accepts, and he pulls her to her feet.
"Ana." Her name sounds foreign coming from him, but there's a pleasant way of him saying it. It hums in her stomach, reminding her of the way Reyes said it. Like worship. A prayer.
Ugh. She puts her hands to her ears, hoping to pull the thoughts of him out her head. "Ana, do you need help?" he asks again.
"Not…" Ana considers the implications of telling him of her feelings for Reyes. The Pathfinder shouldn't be consorting with someone Tann considers to be the enemy. Except Reyes isn't her enemy. It's her emotions who are the enemy. Who kill her time and time at the thought of him.
Even with Reyes' betrayal, is he an enemy of hers? He's helped her outpost and kept Kadara Port a far more reputable place since he's been in charge. She has no problem watching people go from the Nexus to the Port. Tann certainly has a stick up his ass about more and more civilians moving. But there is very little to do on the Nexus. And the damnable politics certainly don't help with fucking morale. But does the salarian listen to that? No. Of course not. What does she know? Some young nothing taken over her father's title.
"You've been distracted as of late. Ever since Sloane's death." Oh, don't remind her of that disaster. Though for the better, even if she won't admit it out loud, her outpost on Kadara is faring better than she hoped on such a hostile planet.
Ana stretches her arms above her head, energy in her stomach building again. She must keep herself busy, constantly throwing her body into exercise or keeping her brain so filled with information of other planets, she has no choice but to think of other things. Would it be healthy to talk about Reyes with Jaal? Would he judge her? The risk is probably better than the reward.
"Come to my quarters in about an hour," Ana says, passing him. "We can discuss it there."
Ana paces. And paces. And moves. Her hands strike invisible enemies. Enemies of her heart. Love. Lust. Memories of him. Of his soft voice and hands trailing over her inexperienced body. And the hurt. The claw in her heart, which still hasn't relinquished its hold.
"Jaal at the door," SAM announces.
Ana quickly sits on the couch, feeling funny for fighting once again. With no bag in front of her, well shit… she just feels embarrassed for allowing Reyes to take over her mind and every waking moment.
It slides open. Jaal smiles at her. "Ana," he greets, bowing slightly.
"No need for such formality," she replies, passing a hand over her cushion next to her.
Jaal sits, straight backed and still slightly formal. Is he uncomfortable? Ignoring that, otherwise she'll feel guilty for choosing this place as a talking spot, she leans her head back and lets out a long breath. "You know Reyes?" Opening an eye, she can see Jaal now.
His body language has changed immensely at the slight mention of Reyes. "Yes." His voice carries a breeze of tension. How much does he already know?
Ana brings her hands back to run through her hair. How much should she tell him? "No judgement, okay?"
"I would never judge you, Ana." It sounds sincere. And he's never struck her as someone who would judge a simple mistake.
Except Reyes isn't a simple mistake. He isn't a simple man. He's heart. Her fucking world. And how has it come to this point? A few distractions, skipping out on duty to escape into the hot sand with him… It shouldn't be enough. But it is. Her hearts hammers in her chest. The thought of escaping has never sounded so good, but every little bit of her Nomad reminds her of him. Ana barely has time to control the attacks when they have to use it to travel.
How does she word it in a way to stop from framing him as the bad guy? To keep Jaal's opinion from furthering darkening? Honesty has always been her best policy.
"I'm in love with him." Those words, spoken out loud, give her a sense of release. Her lungs no longer feel trapped in her throat, waiting to explode at the mention of him.
Which, strangely, her crew has had enough sense not to do. Perhaps she let on about her emotions far more than she originally wanted to.
"Yes," Jaal says, not at all sounding surprised.
Ana gives him a dry smile. "That obvious? I guess I shouldn't be surprised by this."
Jaal only watches her expectantly. What does he want her to say?
He speaks first, "Is he the one responsible for Sloane's death?"
Ana nods, bracing for some kind of burst of anger.
"Sometimes killing is necessary," Jaal rumbles, leaning back into the couch and putting his arm over the edge. "But we have not seen in quite a while." His hand sweeps towards the door. We meaning the crew.
"I… He never told me he was Charlatan. Reyes didn't care about me. I was a means to an end and the…relationship we had was to keep me there."
"Do you honestly believe that?" Jaal's pale lavender stare slips back her defenses, looking straight into her soul. The bottom of the scarred being. For that hope Reyes would return her feelings.
Did she? The hope he finds so easily rises to her throat, waiting to spill out of her open mouth. But Ana's already made a fool of herself once. Standing by as Reyes shot Sloane in the most deceptive way he could.
"I don't know…" There is no more discussion. The two sit in comfortable silence as Ana contemplates what she's been told. Or rather what she's discovered with the help of Jaal.
The first mention of Reyes in the last two months come at the bottom of an email. It's his name. At the end of an invitation for the entire crew of the Tempest to join them in celebrating the trade between her outpost and Kadara Port.
It's not addressed Ana. No personal little tadbits about her time with him. And what the fuck does she expect? The last time she saw him, she left him with a punch to the jaw. Left him the dust and doesn't look back.
Except she has. She's looked over her shoulder every chance she has. In Kadara Port, on the Nexus. On the Tempest. Places he wouldn't be normally.
"Are we going?" Liam's voice pulls her from staring at her datapad and wondering how she'll respond to him. Like she noticed he didn't mention her apart from calling the captain of her crew? Like she hasn't looked for signs of him. It's futile, going through with this.
Why must she torture herself? Ana nods stupidly. She knows it'll raise morale. Help with the relations between the Nexus and Kadara Port. If only she enjoyed politics as much as she enjoys the fight. Guns blazing. The only thing she has to worry about is survival.
This…this certainly doesn't help with anything. With trembling fingers, she types back a simple yes. Yes, they'll be there. Yes, she'll be there.
And the next place her crew finds her is in the hold, banging on the same bag. The chain creaks the way her soul breaks. In small creaks, growing larger and louder with each passing second.
Why does it need to break? Why is it necessary for her to be so consumed him? She laughs loudly at the strange irony of it all. She's read so many novels about heroines falling in love with rougish bad boys and she shakes her head at them. The heroines have a mission. A quest to finish. And yet their hearts and heads unbelievably taken over by this man.
Who the fuck knew it would be true?
It isn't enough, to just hit the bag. It needs to suffer. Be punished for what her body is doing to do. Ana gives more force behind her kicks and punches. The bag doesn't take the abuse well, creaking on old chains and finally falling against the wall.
Night pass slowly. She's awake with nightmares riding so closely on her lids, she doesn't dare close her eyes. Ana practices so much fighting inside her quarters, Gil jokingly knocks on her door and asks who her visitor is.
Which hits her in gut because it would. A chosen visitor of hers would be, Reyes. No need for more guesses. No need for second guesses. Damn him in every way. To the moon and back. To fucking the Milky Way and back. Just damn, damn, damn him.
She stands in the middle of her room, wearing nothing but a bra and panties. Her foot poised mid-air when she decides to never look back. Ana'll go to this party tomorrow and be there for politics. Not for him. Never for him.
This helps her sleep. Her dreams stay at bay as she wanders aimlessly behind closed lids in the dark. Which is far more comforting than being chased.
It doesn't sneak up on her, but still it feels like an enemy. One she can't fight with guns or fists. Ana dresses herself in the clothes of her choice, not the too tight, entrapping bullshit Tann expects her to wear.
A tank top loose enough to show off her lacy bralette underneath with hip hugging jeans and her simple black boots. Is she inviting trouble for dressing this way?
No but she's demanding his attention.
Ana pulls her hair back into a simple ponytail and chooses makeup that accentuates her big eyes and full lips.
"Pathfinder, it is time for the party," SAM reminds her. With one last look in the mirror, she flashes a smile to her reflection. But it's empty.
The party, because of it is, is held in the same place Sloan entertained her. Same hallway and of course, she notices the closet where they shared their first kiss. Her stomach drops pleasantly as she remembers the way he lips felt over hers. Cool and soft. His teeth grazing her lip. Ana finds herself putting a hand to the same lip.
No. She isn't here to reminiscent about him. She's here to keep the communications open. To help celebrate a trade. Fuck.
Ana is pushed by the rest of her crew behind her into the big room. It's still wide and plain as ever. Expect the throne Sloane once sat at is now replaced by a table. And in the middle sits Reyes whose eyes find her.
Fuck.
Ana wants to look away. Needs to look away. But she is trapped by him. Frozen in her spot because she can't fucking move. A slow grin takes over his lips, predatory. And she, she feels like his prey. A big-eyed doe caught in his sights.
Ana breathes gently, turning her body away from the table. Next to him sits a pretty little blonde who can't her hands off of Reyes. Jealousy rears in the back of her throat, but she clamps down on her mouth before it comes out.
The music isn't the same thumping club music Sloane had. It's a soft, piano solo drifting somewhere out of hidden speakers. There's something so Reyes about the piano music. Something within the notes that speaks of him. Golden notes for a golden boy.
She stays in the corner for the rest of the party, being seen but not talking to anyone. They pass her, giving her a glance but something staves off the conversation so obviously on their lips.
"Iliana," a voice says to her left. Whiskey, cigar smoke and gun oil drifts to her nose. "I didn't think you'd come."
Weak. She is weak. Ana wants to turn and take him against that wall. Show the blonde who truly belongs to him. Her fingers tighten around the glass, knuckles bone white through her skin.
"I'm only here as a favor to the Nexus. To keep the trading strong between the outpost and the port." Her back stays turned to him. It takes all of her resolve to stay like that.
"Is that truly it, princess?" Reyes asks, his fingers running under her top against her skin. Calloused skin which know the path of her so well.
At the last moment, she takes a step forward out of his reach. She's not nearly drunk enough for this. To be in the same room as him and remain so stone faced. An idea flits through her head, shuddering down her body. Putting on her most political smile, she turns around to face him.
Reyes face is empty of emotion. Anything to give him away would be something else. It would be a betrayal of his true self. "I am so glad to see the outpost and Kadara Port working so well together. I hope this continues well into the future." She says those words loud enough for those to hear her over the soft music. Downing her drink, she passes the glass to Reyes and stiff backed, steps out of the room.
Ana walks with a purpose. A mission chases the edges of her heels as she turns down the hallway and into the very same storage room. Does he still hold the alcohol in here? Opening the door and closing it quickly behind her shows her she's wrong. It stands empty.
She wants to scream and punch the wall, but this certainly isn't Reyes' or the room's fault. Hell, she didn't know she'd back in these walls at another party.
"Looking for this?" Reyes asks from behind her. Ana turns quickly on her heels. Between his fingers hangs a bottle of rum.
"Why'd you empty this room?" Ana demands, sweeping her hands over the empty space.
"This is where Sloane kept her guns. And alcohol, but I thought it imperative to move these from such an obvious place." He fists the bottle, flicking off the cap and taking a swig. "You came. I didn't think you would."
"Yes, so you said earlier."
Half-lidded, Reyes truly focuses on her. She feels the gaze to the bottom of her toes. Shifting, she turns her eyes away from him. But he burns holes into her soul, unlocking the cage around her heart. "Iliana. Look at me."
Betrayed. He betrayed me. Don't you dare look at him. His voice calls to her. For her.
"No. You need to leave."
A harsh laugh falls from his lips like stones in a river. It ripples across in her body. "You are intruding on my storage room, princess." He takes a step towards her. The bottle slips from his hand, clattering to the ground.
"Yeah well… I needed a place…" Sentence trailing off, he's just about on top of her. Breath is rapid. She can't seem to keep her heart from giving away her emotions.
Mouth open expectantly, she closes her eyes. His hands are on her neck, in her hair, on her. Skin tingles and is lit on fire from his fingers. A step and another push her further into the room until she flesh with the wall.
"Tell me," Reyes whispers, "do you want me?"
Ana's fingers scrabble at the metal wall behind her. She's looking for a hold. Something to anchor her to this ground, except she doesn't need it. He's there. Here. Hands holding her down to earth.
He moves his lips gently from the corner of her mouth to her ear. "Do you?"
"No," she manages out. "I need you."
It's like a dam has been broken. Water breaks forth and he's wrapped in her. As she is in him.
Their lips clash in a battle of power. His tongue battling against hers, the taste of him almost enough to send her reeling over the edge. "Don't you dare, princess," he whispers, breaking from her.
Reyes pins her against that wall, body moving strategically against her. Groans barely make it past her throat. God forbid she makes too much noise. The door behind him to closed and she's assuming locked. He would hate to be disrupted.
And honestly, so would she.
Ana arches her back against him as he grazes his teeth against her bottom lip. "God, oh my god."
Reyes grins as he pulls back. "Do you know how much I missed you, princess?"
"No, I don't. It looks like you've been busy with a blonde."
His laughter is softer this time, carrying across her skin like a feather. "Her? Barely." He nuzzles straight into the curve of her neck and shoulder. "You. I picture you every time she touches me."
Ana tightens her grip on one of his fingers. The only part her hands can reach of him. "She shouldn't be touching you," she growls. "You're mine."
"Oh dear, Iliana. You didn't belong to me for a good few months." His voice is muffled against her skin, but she can hear the wistfulness in it. Can hear his regret it. It echoes in her bones like an old friend. Regret she surely shares.
"Reyes," she breathes. "Take me."
It's all he needs. All he craves as his hands move from her wrists down to her breasts. There is no padding protecting her precious mounds from his rough hands. With nowhere to put her hands, she helps him, their fingers tangling on her chest. The tank top falls to her waist, he tears quite easily through her bralette.
She doesn't stop to tell him it's her favorite. Her breath is stolen by him kissing his way down her chest to her erect nipples. Back arched once again, she groans, fingers wrapped in his hair. "Reyes…"
"Keep saying my name, princess," he mumbles against her.
One unoccupied hand moves down her stomach, to the soft lips between her legs. Ana knows she's wet. She's been wet since she set eyes on him. It's not hard for him to get her body going. For her to want him completely and so reverently, it feels almost like worshipping a god.
Her legs open instantly, making it easier for him. Ana would do so much to make things easy for him. She'd follow him to the ends of the fucking earth just to keep his touch.
Reyes' chuckles slightly. "All ready, princess?"
"You know me," she whispers, her voice hoarse with pleasure.
"No. But I need to relearn you." And so, he does. With every inch of her skin doesn't go untouched. They move from the wall to the floor, shedding clothes bit by bit until they are both naked against the metal. Sweaty skin sticks to each other as they move and move. Never ceasing.
And he's in her. His fingers pump hard and fast. Her moans echo back to her, feet braced down, back arched. "Oh, god… Re-Reyes."
Reyes is on top of her, the tip of his cock pushing into her stomach as he fucks her with his fingers. As he brings her again and again to the top and never letting her go over the edge. "Not yet," he whispers. "Not yet."
The power is his and remains his. It always has been his.
Ana growls, pushing up and surprising him. "My turn."
With their roles reversed, she situates herself between his legs. His cock is hard, twitching slightly. Her mouth waters at the sight of it. Now she doesn't crave penises as much as she craves him.
Without pretense, she takes him into her mouth, throating opening to allow him all the way. Ana loves the way his breath hitches, his grappling hold finding her hair. Loves the way he fills her.
"Iliana…" The way he says her name. And his moaning. Sweet, delicious moaning in her ears.
Ana slides her head up and down, nails digging into his thighs. "Don't do it, princess," he rasps, grabbing onto her hands. It's as if he could read her intent to touch herself. "I want you to myself."
She laughs, nearly choking on him. It's disgusting, pulling him from her mouth. Strands of saliva link them together. "Oh really? And here I was going to announce myself to the party."
Reyes' is quick to his knees, eyes almost black with desire. He bites down on her neck, sucking at the skin. "We've been over this before," he whispers, gripping her hair tightly. A moan escapes her lips. "I don't share."
There'd been talk of bedding the Pathfinder within Reyes' earshot. The man left with a broken nose and others were scared off of her.
It's was sexy. In a horrifyingly possessive way.
Ana leans her forehead against his, fingers trailing down his jawline. "You gave him quite a scar."
He doesn't speak. With gentle hands, gentler than he'd been earlier, he lays her down. As if suddenly unsure of her, his hands brush down her nude body, skipping along parts that send tingles up her veins.
Ana moves her legs up to stem the feeling of him. "Just…fuck me already," she hisses, wanting to push away from his touch. But she doesn't. She doesn't dare to move anywhere away from him.
Reyes guides her onto her knees, his head pushed against her opening. Agonizingly slow, he fills her, wall to wall.
"Jesus…" She can't tell if she's responding to his torture or how slow he's going. Whether it makes her want him more or kill him.
Ana bites her lip as he starts to move his hips circularly, catching a spot she's tried finding on her own. Cries cascade until there is knocking at the door. A male voice calling in there, checking if everything is okay.
Reyes doesn't stop. He grips her hips hard enough to bruise the skin and slides home. She calls for Jesus, god, Reyes. Anyone.
Pleasure courses through her body, shaking her at her core. Arms tremble, holding up her weight. They bend, and her back is curved in. "Faster. God, faster!"
Reyes is slamming into her, muttering her name. He brings his chest to her back, cups her breasts and making tiny movements with his hips. This hits her spot over and over, sending her over the edge.
Her body shakes with the weight of her orgasm, collapsing on her stomach and bringing him with her. He doesn't move, not yet spending himself in her. They've tried hard in the past to stop her from getting pregnant and she's glad he's kept that in mind.
The question is, does he want it like last time?
Reyes pulls out, his cock bouncing. She doesn't know why, but this amuses her and her tired brain. As well as she can, she sits up and takes him in her hand. Pumping slowly at first, she increases her speed when it's clear he's close.
He spends his load on her hand. "Don't stop," he groans, placing his hand over hers and pumping harder. She stands on her knees and kisses him hard, locking her fingers into his hair.
Ana smiles against his kiss as his cock goes limp in her hand.