Private Locked Into Paradise

[Alana Calloway]

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Locked Into Paradise​

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Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis​

Gear: Tactical swimsuit​

The golden sands of Rakatan Prime stretched endlessly beneath the blinding twin suns, the heat shimmering off the beach in a dance of distorted light. Waves crashed against the shore in a rhythmic lull, the deep blue of the ocean stretching out into infinity. The air smelled of salt and something ancient—like a world long forgotten, steeped in its own secrets.

Alana Calloway stood at the water's edge, clad in a simple yet functional swimsuit, the dark material snug against her frame. She adjusted the wrap tied loosely around her waist, more out of habit than necessity, and exhaled a slow breath. Training. That was why she was here. The setting felt almost absurdly serene for what was about to follow, but then again, nothing about her life had ever quite fit the mold of expectation.

She rolled her shoulders, feeling the tension still coiled in her muscles from the last training session she had undergone. Serina was late. Not unusual, but Alana had long since learned that nothing Serina did was without reason. If she made someone wait, it was to see how they handled the stillness, how they occupied the moments in between. A test, always a test. She flexed her biceps, stretching out the aches of her muscles, letting the sun illuminate the sleeves of her see through shirt, making her several layers of tattoos be seen.

The ocean breeze was warm against her skin, teasing strands of ashy white hair loose from where she had tied them back. Red eyes flickered to the horizon, tracking the shifting clouds, the way the sunlight danced on the surface of the waves. It was peaceful here, unsettlingly so. The kind of peace that made her uneasy, like a held breath before a storm.

And then—she felt it. That shift in the air, that unspoken presence slipping into her space before a single word was spoken. A slow, knowing smirk curled at the corner of her lips before she even turned around.

"Y'know," She drawled, voice tinged with that unpolished twang, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were enjoyin' making me wait."

She imagined there was a series of reasons for Serina being who she was.

Maybe one day, she’d learn about it.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Alana Calloway ​

Serina didn't answer immediately.

She never did.

She let the moment stretch, let the heat of the sun clinging to the air between them, let Alana feel her presence before she ever spoke a word.

Then—finally—her voice came, smooth as silk, wicked as sin.

"Oh, sweetheart," she purred, her tone practically dripping with indulgence. "If you didn't know better, I'd be terribly disappointed in you."

And then—she stepped into view.

Black. Always black.

A scandalous, barely-there swimsuit, cut in a way that left far too little to the imagination. Straps tracing the curve of her waist, fabric clinging to her hips like it had been designed only for her, a thin veil of something sheer and entirely unnecessary draped around her arms, billowing slightly in the ocean breeze.

She looked impossible in this setting—like something unnatural had been dropped into the serene beauty of Rakatan Prime.

Because she was.

A void among golden sands.

A shadow cast against light.

And there—there—where her heart should have been, a hole stretched clean through her body, its edges seething with inky, smoking tendrils, shifting like something alive.

A wound. A mark. A permanent reminder of where Grandmaster Noble's lightsaber had pierced her—where something had once been, and now?

Nothing.

And yet, she lived.

Serina rolled her shoulders lazily, stretching her arms above her head, exhaling in satisfaction as she purposely let Alana's gaze wander—because she knew it would.

"And here you are," she murmured, tilting her head, blue eyes gleaming as they raked over Alana's frame, her tone dipping into something low, something unbearably warm. "Waiting so patiently. Looking so—" a pause, her lips curling just so, "—eager."

A step forward.

And another.

Until she was too close, until the heat of her body could be felt in the space between them, until the scent of something dark and sickeningly sweet clung to the air around her.

A fingertip traced along the edge of Alana's wrap—slow, deliberate, nothing more than a whisper of contact.

"Training," Serina hummed, as if the word itself was amusing. "Is that really why you're here, darling?"

She let the question hang there, let the smirk widen, let the implications settle.

Then, with a soft, mocking sigh, she stepped around Alana, letting her fingers drag along her shoulder as she circled her, moving just slow enough to keep her within reach, but never quite touching.

"You know," she mused, voice like a purr, "I think you enjoy this more than you let on."

Another pause. Another deliberate breath.

And then—just as she brushed past Alana's side, her lips grazed against the shell of her ear, her whisper thick with heat, thick with something dangerous.

"Admit it," she murmured, "you like being kept waiting."

 

[Alana Calloway]

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Locked Into Paradise​

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Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis​

Gear: Tactical swimsuit​

​

Alana's jaw tightened, but she held her ground, even as Serina's presence pressed in from all sides. There was no avoiding it—the way she moved, the way she spoke—it was all designed to unsettle, to pull at the edges of control.

But Alana wasn't about to let her unravel so easily. Absolutely not.

She stood still, watching Serina circle her, a calculated calm in her posture. She didn't flinch when the fingertip traced her wrap, or when the air seemed to thicken with every breath Serina took. Her gaze never left the other woman, red eyes sharp but unreadable.

"Is that how you think of me?" Alana's voice was even, though there was a hint of something beneath it—resentment, perhaps, or something darker. "That I'm just another... plaything for your amusement?"

The warmth of Rakata Prime felt like nothing compared to the heat of the moment, but Alana didn't shift. She grew up in some of the worst spots in the galaxy, and she’d be damned if a little princess was going to talk to her like this; even though the swimsuit did look very nice on her.

She leaned in, just enough to close the gap between them, her voice low and steady. "You think I'm eager?" She asked, the smirk on her lips sharp, a challenge.

She let the words sit for a moment, watching Serina's every move.

"Tell me, Serina," Alana's tone shifted slightly, becoming more playful, "I think you spent all this time getting ready, because, you really wanna make an impression on me."

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of something beneath the surface, something that almost resembled amusement—albeit one tinged with the raw edge of her past.

"Maybe just try to remember I've been waiting a lot longer than you think. But don't worry, I'll play along."

She reached out, fixing a lock of hair that the ocean breeze had moved out of place.

“Aside from that, ya look a lot nicer here than inside that hospital.”

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Alana Calloway ​

Serina's smirk deepened, slow and indulgent, as Alana met her push with one of her own.

Oh, she loved this.

The defiance. The way Alana stood her ground, the way she refused to be rattled, even as Serina's presence coiled around her like a vice. It was adorable, really. Because Serina knew—knew—that resistance was just the first step toward surrender.

And darling, she loved to watch them struggle.

"That I'm just another... plaything for your amusement?"

Serina sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her chest—just above the gaping void where her heart should have been, the smoke of it curling lazily against the ocean breeze.

"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, tilting her head, her voice dripping with mock innocence, "you wound me."

Then, as if to counter her own words, she smirked.

"Now why would you ever assume something so vile of me?" she purred, taking another slow, measured step closer, until their bodies were nearly touching, until Alana could feel the teasing brush of warm skin against her own. "I think of you as so much more than just a plaything."

Her lips parted, and her voice dipped into something low, something breathless, something so intentionally cruel in how much it promised without ever delivering.

"You're a delightful little soldier, darling."

A slow inhale, savoring the moment, savoring the tension.

"And really," she continued, dragging her fingers lazily down Alana's arm, just ghosting over the skin, "I don't think you'd still be here if you didn't enjoy it just a little bit."

Alana was good at holding her ground. But Serina was better at making people question why they were trying so hard in the first place.

"Tell me, Serina, I think you spent all this time getting ready because you really wanna make an impression on me."

Oh, that earned her a laugh. A soft, wicked sound, barely more than a whisper, but full of pure satisfaction.

Serina's fingers tightened slightly where they had brushed against Alana's skin, her nails teasing against her bicep, as if considering whether to dig in or pull away.

"And if I did?" she mused, her voice dangerously sweet. "Would it be working?"

A pause. A knowing smile.

"You're certainly looking at me like it is."

Then—then—Alana dared to reach out, fixing a stray lock of Serina's hair.

Serina let her.

Let Alana's fingers touch her, let her pretend like she wasn't playing the game, let her think she was in control for just a moment.

And then—she struck.

A hand suddenly at Alana's waist, palm flat against her bare skin where her wrap didn't cover, a firm hold that was neither forceful nor fleeting—just possession. Just a reminder that Serina allowed only what she wanted to allow.

She leaned in, her lips just shy of brushing against Alana's ear, her breath warm against sun-kissed skin.

"You are positively adorable," she whispered, her voice the kind of low, sultry thing that could break weaker women. "Flirting with a predator like you aren't just waiting to be caught."

Her fingers flexed at Alana's waist, just slightly, just enough to tease, before she pulled away with a languid grace, stepping back exactly when she wanted to.

She rolled her shoulders, stretching as if the entire exchange had been nothing more than casual entertainment.

Then, with a mocking little sigh, she flashed Alana an expression of pure, sickening amusement.

"You really think I look better here than in the hospital?" she mused, tapping a finger to her chin. "You wound me, darling. And here I thought you liked my armor."

A wicked smirk.

"What a shame."

 

[Alana Calloway]

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Locked Into Paradise​

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Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis​

Gear: Tactical swimsuit​

​

Alana's lips curled into a sly grin, watching Serina move with her usual fluid grace, every motion calculated to ensnare. She was good—no, she was great—but Alana wasn't the easily ensnared. She was a bit more seasoned than that. And right now? She found the whole thing amusing.

She let Serina get close again, letting her fingers graze her skin, letting the heat of her body press against her own. Her stance remained relaxed, unbothered by the intentional teasing. If anything, the whole act seemed a little too predictable, and Alana wasn't one to back down from a challenge, especially not when it was so clearly a game.

"Flirting with a predator, huh?" Alana repeated, her voice dipping into something more playful. "I'm not sure you've quite got the measure of me, Serina."

She stepped closer, just enough to close the gap between them. There was a warmth in her eyes now—one that came from amusement, not desire. Alana was enjoying herself, her red eyes glittering with a bit of mischief.

"I'll admit," she said slowly, voice light, "You're definitely... something. But if you think you can throw me off with a few touches, a few games, you're sorely mistaken."

Alana gave a little laugh, shaking her head slightly as she took in the other woman's demeanor.

"Force, you do love the attention, don't you?" She teased, her fingers brushing along the hem of Serina's arm, just enough to make it clear she wasn't afraid to play along. "I’ve been many things, but never a soldier."

She leaned in slightly, her breath warmer now, her eyes flickering with an undeniable edge of amusement. "Tell me, Serina, how many people do you really get to play with like this? I can't imagine it's many. I imagine I’m something rather new to you, or maybe I’m getting ahead of myself….I mean, I’m not some all powerful entity….I’m a girl with a lot of baggage, not a lot of use, and a history of addiction. Must look like a big ball of yarn to play with, hm?”

Her fingers grazed the edge of Serina's collar, lingering just a moment before pulling away.

"So, if this is the game," Alana continued, "I'll play along. But only if you stop pretending you're the one holding the cards. Because the best games of pazzak, are hardly in the cards."

She let the words settle between them before flashing Serina another sly smile, letting the challenge hang in the air. "If we’re going to be partners here…we can at least pretend that we view each other on equal levels."

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Alana Calloway ​

Serina's smirk froze.

Not in fear. Not in hesitation. Not in uncertainty.

No, it was something colder than that. Something deeper. Something fundamental to what she was.

Because Serina Calis had never been anyone's equal.

She was above them.

All of them.

Always.

She didn't flinch as Alana spoke, as those teasing fingers dared to brush along her collar, as the challenge was laid so plainly before her. Alana was playing the game well—very well—but she didn't understand. Not really.

Serina did not play.

Serina devoured.

And yet—

And yet, she couldn't say that.

Not because she was afraid. Not because she wavered in her beliefs.

But because Alana wouldn't accept it.

Not yet.

So Serina did what she had always done best.

She let the silence breathe.

She did not react. She did not sneer, nor smirk, nor push back in the way Alana might have expected.

She simply… stilled.

And then—finally—she exhaled.

Slow. Steady.

Her smirk returned, but it was lighter now, as if she had already moved on.

"Mm," she hummed, tilting her head slightly, gaze unreadable. "Perhaps."

And then—nothing more.

No teasing, no sharp-edged flirtation.

She stepped back, smoothing down her sheer black veil with a careful grace, her voice slipping into something quieter.

"Come with me."

No elaborate flourish. No game.

Just an order.

She turned, walking toward the shore, the warm sand shifting beneath her bare feet. The ocean stretched out before them, vast and endless, the sun shimmering on the water's surface like a dream.

Serina didn't look back.

She didn't need to.

She knew Alana would follow.

 

[Alana Calloway]

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Locked Into Paradise​

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Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis​

Gear: Tactical swimsuit​

​

Alana stood still for a moment, letting the tension stretch between them, feeling the way the air around them had shifted. She watched as Serina composed herself, that familiar smirk returning, but there was something different now. Something calmer, something final in her demeanor. Alana couldn't quite place it, but it wasn't lost on her. She was quite used to setting others off.

She hadn't broken Serina. Not in the way that would make the other woman scramble for control. Instead, Serina had simply… stalled, letting the silence speak louder than any sharp word could. Alana’s amusement dropped, a miscommunication perhaps.

For a moment, Alana almost wondered if she'd made a mistake. But then the quiet was broken, as Serina spoke that one word.

"Perhaps."

The challenge was gone, replaced with something else—something more... calculated. Alana didn't immediately respond. She didn't need to. The order was clear, as was the authority in Serina's voice.

Come with me.

It wasn't a suggestion. It wasn't an invitation. It was a command, and the weight of it hung in the air. Alana was more than aware of that.

She had been baiting Serina, and now it was time to follow. It was time to see where the game went from here.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Alana's lips curled into something like a smile—one that was more amused than defiant now. Serina hadn't broken her—she hadn't even come close. But it was clear the game was shifting, and Alana couldn't resist playing along a little longer.

"Lead the way," Alana replied smoothly, her voice light and even, betraying none of the stirrings beneath the surface.

Her eyes lingered for just a second on Serina's retreating figure, the way she moved with such confidence, the way the world seemed to bend around her. She could have stayed, let the woman walk off.

But Alana felt something in common with this woman.

The loneliness that seemed to reside deep inside. The desire to pull things towards her, and the inability to know when they dissolved through her fingers. Like sand.

Not unlike Alana’s path in life had gone.

Then, without another word, Alana followed.
Perhaps against her own interests, once again.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Alana Calloway ​

Serina didn't look back.

She didn't need to.

She could feel Alana behind her, could hear the quiet shift of her steps in the sand, the deliberate rhythm of someone who knew she was walking toward something dangerous—and yet still chose to move forward.

That was the thing about people like them, wasn't it?

They knew better.

And it never stopped them.

The ocean stretched out before them, waves rolling in a slow, rhythmic lull, the sound of water meeting shore filling the space between them. The wind was warm, carrying the scent of salt and something ancient, something forgotten.

For a moment, Serina let herself enjoy it.

The quiet.

The stillness before the storm.

And then—finally—she spoke.

"Tell me something," she murmured, voice light, smooth, almost casual.

She tilted her head slightly, just enough that Alana could see the ghost of a smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

"Do you remember what I said about half-measures?"

Her tone was deceptively soft, barely louder than the whispering tide, but there was something coiled beneath it, something waiting.

Because Serina already knew the answer.

There were no half-measures with her.

Not in battle.

Not in life.

And certainly not with Alana Calloway.

This was the last warning she would ever give her.

And Serina was smiling.

 

[Alana Calloway]

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Locked Into Paradise​

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Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis​

Gear: Tactical swimsuit​

​

Alana felt the weight of the moment settle over her, pressing against her ribs like a vice. The waves murmured at her back, their rhythm steady, but her pulse had started to quicken.

Serina's words weren't a threat. Not exactly.

They were a promise.

Alana didn't need to see her face to know what lay beneath that smirk—the certainty, the expectation. The way Serina was already deciding how this would end, as if Alana had no say in the matter.

That alone was enough to stoke the fire in her chest.

She exhaled, slow and steady, rolling her shoulders as if shrugging off the weight of what was coming. Her fingers twitched at her sides, itching for something solid—her blaster, a blade, anything to ground her.

But she didn't move.

Not yet.

Instead, she let her lips curl into something sharp, something bitterly amused.

"Yeah," she said, voice steady despite the slow thrum of adrenaline creeping into her veins. "You don't do, half measures."

She paused for a beat.

Then she tilted her head, eyes glinting beneath the dim light.

"I just want you to talk to me, like a person. Maybe you think you're being all kind and generous....but the last one who spoke to me like you did, left me to burn alive in a shuttle craft. Makes me feel...like I should expect the worst."

She knew Serina was waiting, coiled and ready.

So was she.

"I know you say you're different...about how you saved me, that you want me to be better...but so did the people that hurt me. You could very well mean well...but the truth of the matter, is that I am very much scared. I just hide it, really well."

She let Serina peek in now, some level of her wanted a friend. In the Sith Order, that was probably one of the most moronic things to be looking for...but Alana...needed it, in some way.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Alana Calloway ​

Serina stood still.

Not a breath. Not a twitch.

Still. Listening.

She let Alana's words hang in the humid air, let the sound of the ocean waves swallow the quiet between them, let the weight of what had just been given to her settle into her bones.

Fear.

Not the kind people screamed about. Not the kind that sent bodies running, or made them break into wild, desperate struggles. No—this was something deeper. Something colder.

Something that had lived inside Alana Calloway for a very, very long time.

And oh, darling, Serina knew that fear well.

She inhaled, slow and measured, before stepping forward.

Not looming. Not commanding.

Just close.

Close enough that the warmth of her skin met the ocean breeze, close enough that Alana could feel her there—present, solid—without demanding she acknowledge it.

Her voice, when it came, was soft. Devastatingly soft.

"Oh, sweetheart…"

A whisper, not a purr.

Serina lifted a hand—slowly, deliberately—and placed it against Alana's jaw. No force. No teasing. Just the simple, undeniable fact of touch. Her thumb brushed the curve of her cheek, her fingers barely pressing against the warm skin beneath them.

"I know."

Two words.

Simple.

Heavy.

Serina exhaled through her nose, tilting her head slightly, her gaze flickering between Alana's eyes, searching, lingering.

"You're right to be scared." Her voice didn't waver. Didn't slip into its usual mocking silk. "People should terrify you. They should make you expect the worst. Because that's what they do. That's all they do."

She let the silence stretch for a moment, let the reality of those words sink in.

"But, darling…" she murmured, and now—now—her voice dipped into something lower, something tender, something that wrapped around the edges of Alana's fears and pulled.

"That's why I'm here."

Her hand slipped lower, trailing lightly down Alana's arm, before she took her wrist—gently, gently—and lifted it between them.

"Because I won't let you burn."

The words were a breath against the air, barely louder than the rolling waves behind them.

She turned Alana's palm over, tracing slow, lazy circles along the inside of her wrist with the pad of her thumb.

"I won't let you fall."

A small, knowing smile—not victorious, not predatory, just… there.

"I saved you, didn't I?"

A beat.

Serina's grip tightened—just enough for Alana to feel it.

"And all you have to do…"

Another step forward. Their bodies nearly brushing.

A whisper.

"...is let me."

She waited then, holding Alana's gaze, her thumb still ghosting over the skin of her wrist.

And that was the trap, wasn't it?

Serina never asked.

Serina never gave the illusion of choice.

But this time?

This time, she was giving Alana something no one else ever had.

She was finally letting her decide.

She would finally let her choose.

 

[Alana Calloway]

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Locked Into Paradise​

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Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis​

Gear: Tactical swimsuit​

​

Alana's heart beat in her ears, a steady thrum that drowned out the sound of the ocean, the air thick and suffocating around her. Serina's presence—solid, undeniable—settled against her, the calm before a storm of emotions she hadn't expected to feel in this moment.

She had been bracing for an attack, for a fight, even for mockery. But this? This was different.

The touch of Serina's hand against her jaw—soft, unthreatening—shattered the guard she had carefully built. There was no malice in it. No cruelty. Just the weight of understanding, of knowing. The kind of knowing that cut deeper than any wound, that made the raw parts of Alana stir, the ones she buried deep inside herself.

Fear. The same kind of fear she had lived with for years—since her parents' deaths, since the tragedy of her past, since she had been stripped of her life and turned into a tool by the Sith.

Serina's words landed like a whisper in a storm, quiet but devastating. "You're right to be scared." Alana flinched at the recognition, at the mirror Serina held up to her soul. People should terrify her. They did terrify her. Everyone had their own way of showing it, their own way of carving away pieces of her, until nothing but a hollow shell remained.

But Serina's next words were softer, gentler. They curled around Alana's fears, coaxing them into submission. “That's why I'm here." And for the first time, Alana's breath caught—not from fear, but from a strange kind of relief.

She didn't let her guard down entirely, but there was a moment—a breath—when her walls seemed to crack, just a little. When Serina spoke again, her voice smooth as silk, it was as though the weight of the world was suddenly shared between them. The promise of protection—of not letting her burn, of not letting her fall—it was everything Alana had wanted but never thought she'd receive.

The smile that curved Serina's lips wasn't triumphant. It wasn't cruel. It was knowing. It was compassion, in its own way, and Alana recoiled at it, not from disgust, but from the vulnerability it stirred.

"I saved you, didn't I?"

Alana stiffened, but the sharpness of her breath was only a whisper compared to the storm of thoughts racing through her mind. Serina's grip on her wrist tightened just enough to remind her she was here—she was real, unyielding, but not in a way that demanded fear. This was the weight of choice, the weight of something Alana didn't know if she could bear.

And then, the words fell between them like a promise—“...is let me."

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Alana didn't feel like a tool or a pawn. She felt… seen. Heard.

But that didn't mean she was ready to give in. Her hand twitched, fingers curled slightly, but there was no fight left in her. Not the kind she thought she had to wage.

Instead, she looked Serina in the eye, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. The calm playful energy in her red eyes, was gone. There was hope there, and an unspoken worry, as if pondering if the relief up ahead was real or an illusion. “And if I do?"

It wasn't defiance. It was an inquiry. It was her way of testing the water, of seeing just how deep this game went, how far Serina was willing to push.

She wasn't afraid of losing herself anymore. But she wasn't sure she was ready to find herself in someone else's hands, either.

Maybe…if the hands were softer…she could find that acceptable.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Alana Calloway ​

Serina felt it.

That moment—the hesitation, the flicker of something real, something desperate and uncertain all at once. The crack in Alana's armor, the way her fingers twitched but did not pull away.

The way her voice came steady, but her eyes—her eyes—told the truth.

Hope.

Unspoken.

Fragile.

And if that wasn't the most beautiful thing Serina had ever seen.

She exhaled, slow and intentional, letting the air between them settle, letting Alana feel the weight of her answer before it even left her lips.

Her fingers remained on Alana's wrist, not gripping, not holding—just existing there, grounding her, a quiet promise beneath the slow, hypnotic circles her thumb traced against her pulse.

"And if you do?" Serina murmured, tilting her head slightly, the barest curl of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

She leaned in, just enough for her breath to brush against Alana's skin, for her presence to press against her without trapping her.

"Then you never have to be alone again."

Soft. So soft.

A whisper meant only for Alana, meant to wrap around her ribs, coil around her heart, sink into her bones.

Serina let the words linger, let the offer settle between them like something sacred.

And then—gently—she lifted Alana's hand between them, turning it over in her grasp.

Her lips just barely grazed the inside of Alana's wrist, a ghost of a touch, something so insufferably delicate that it was almost a prayer.

"You've spent your whole life fighting, haven't you?" she murmured, her voice dipping into something silken, something warm enough to melt the ice in Alana's chest.

Her lips hovered just above Alana's skin, as if waiting for permission she didn't need.

"And where has it gotten you, sweetheart?"

Another slow, deliberate stroke of her thumb over Alana's wrist.

"You're exhausted."

It wasn't a question. It was a truth. A truth Alana didn't want to admit, but one Serina had already seen.

She finally pulled back, just enough to meet Alana's gaze again, her fingers still holding her there, still offering her something she wouldn't find anywhere else.

"Letting go doesn't mean losing yourself," she whispered, her voice carrying so much promise, so much certainty that it was almost cruel.

"It means finding yourself—" a pause, her blue eyes gleaming, "with me."

The way she said it—gods, it wasn't a demand, wasn't an order, wasn't forceful. It was worse.

It was gentle.

Because this wasn't coercion.

This was choice.

And that was what made it irresistible.

Serina tilted her head, her smile growing, warm and infinitely patient, as if she had all the time in the galaxy to wait for Alana to finally chose.

"I saved you once," she murmured. "I'll do it again."

Her fingers tightened, just slightly.

"But only if you let me."

And then—then—she waited.

Waited for Alana to take the final step herself.

 

[Alana Calloway]

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Locked Into Paradise​

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Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis​

Gear: Tactical swimsuit​

​

Alana's heart stuttered in her chest. Serina's words, each one soft and measured, wrapped around her like an unspoken promise. The space between them had shifted, become more intimate than it had ever been. The world seemed to fade into a muted background, leaving only the quiet hum of her own breath and the warmth of Serina's touch.

Her wrist tingled where Serina's fingers rested, the soft circles of her thumb grounding her, and in that small, delicate moment, Alana felt something shift deep inside of her—something that hadn't moved in years. A tremor of vulnerability. A crack in the fortress she'd spent so long building. It was barely a flicker, but it was there, and it was alive.

Serina's words lingered, a whisper of a question that cut through Alana's walls. "And where has it gotten you, sweetheart?"

Alana didn't know how to answer. She hadn't known where she was going for so long. But Serina's touch—her presence—offered a different kind of weight, one that wasn't oppressive or demanding, but gentle. Caring. It was a tether to something other than the chaos she'd known.

She could feel the exhaustion, the ache deep in her bones—the years of running, fighting, pretending that she was fine, that she didn't need anyone. That she couldn't need anyone.

"You're exhausted," Serina said, and the words were a balm. A reminder that it was okay to not be okay. That it was okay to stop fighting for just a moment.

She was right. Alana was tired. She was so tired.

Her lips brushed her wrist, and Alana closed her eyes, feeling the electric softness of the touch, the warmth that radiated from Serina like the promise of something she hadn't allowed herself to believe in for far too long. Something tender, something real.

"Letting go doesn't mean losing yourself," Serina whispered, her voice low, steady, and full of certainty. "It means finding yourself—with me."

Alana's chest tightened, and for a moment, she thought she might choke on the weight of the words. The offer. The invitation.

There was no force, no demand in Serina's tone. It was gentle. It was choice. The kind of choice Alana had never really been given. A choice to stay instead of keep running.

Serina's eyes met hers, filled with patience and warmth, waiting for Alana to decide, as if she had all the time in the world.

"I saved you once," Serina said, her voice carrying that same unshakable certainty. "I'll do it again. But only if you let me."

Alana's throat tightened. She felt her walls tremble, felt the weight of her choices pressing against her like an invisible hand, but there was something else there too. A warmth. A pull. A hope.

She met Serina's gaze, those eyes bright and patient, and for the first time in a long while, Alana didn't feel the need to hide. She didn't have to fight, didn't have to pretend she had all the answers. She didn't have to shoulder everything alone.

And maybe... maybe she didn't want to anymore.

Her breath hitched, and she slowly let it out, letting go of some of the tension in her shoulders. Her eyes flickered down to where Serina still held her wrist, the weight of her touch grounding her, the offer unspoken but clear.

She didn't have the words. Not yet. But for the first time in a long time, Alana didn't feel the need to say them.

Her hand—her free hand—reached out, fingers brushing against Serina's, and without a word, she let the touch linger.

Alana couldn't promise what would happen next, couldn't promise that the walls wouldn't rise again. But for now, in this moment, she was choosing to step closer. To take the chance. To let herself be seen.

"Okay," She whispered, the word barely audible, but enough to send a shiver through the space between them.

And maybe that was all it would take. One step. One choice.

Serina had given her a way out. Now, Alana was ready to take it. She sank forward, like a ship capsizing, and fell into Serina’s clutches.

She couldn’t recall the last time she felt someone so close, that wasn’t trying to kill her.

It honestly hurt to think on.

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Alana Calloway ​

Serina caught her.

Not in the way one might catch a falling body. Not with haste, not with urgency, not with anything that spoke of instinct.

No, she caught Alana the way a spider catches a fly. Slowly. Carefully. With infinite patience.

Her arms wrapped around her—not tight, not restraining, but present. Claiming.

A breath.

A whisper.

"Good girl."

The words left her lips softer than silk, barely more than a hum against the space between them, against the fragile moment of surrender that hung there.

Serina let her fingers trail along Alana's spine, just ghosting over the fabric of her wrap, letting her feel the weight of her presence without demanding anything more.

She wouldn't demand.

Not yet.

Instead, she simply held her there.

Warm. Real.

Her lips curled into something soft—something Alana would think was kindness. Something dangerous because it wasn't a lie.

She meant it.

And that was what made it deadly.

Serina exhaled through her nose, brushing her cheek against the crown of Alana's head as she spoke again—softer now, the words curling against the curve of Alana's ear like something intimate.

"You feel it, don't you?"

Her voice dipped into something dangerous, something addictive, the way a slow-dripping narcotic might slide through the veins.

"The relief."

Her hand splayed against Alana's back, pulling her closer, just slightly, just enough to reinforce the sensation, the promise that she wasn't alone anymore.

"The quiet in your mind. The weight lifting off your shoulders."

Serina let her smile grow, unseen, felt more than noticed.

"You don't have to hold it all together anymore, darling."

A breath.

"You don't have to carry it alone."

And then, finally, she pulled back—just enough to see Alana's face, her fingers still resting against her back, her touch still there, still constant.

She lifted a hand, tucking a stray strand of ashy white hair behind Alana's ear, fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

"Because I'll carry it with you."

Because she would carry it.

She would carry Alana.

She would lift her, support her, shape her—until she belonged to her.

Serina tilted her head slightly, blue eyes gleaming with something warm, something gentle, as if she hadn't already won.

As if she wasn't sinking her claws in deeper with every breath.

She let the moment breathe.

Let Alana feel it. Sit in it.

Let her become comfortable in Serina's arms.

And then—then—she murmured:

"It suits you, you know."

A smirk, subtle and pleased.

"The way you fit so perfectly here."

Her hand tightened at Alana's waist, fingers flexing just slightly—just enough to remind her that this wasn't temporary.

That this was a claim.

And then—finally—the command.

"Come with me, sweetheart."

Not a request.

Not a demand.

A certainty.

Serina didn't let go.

 

[Alana Calloway]

.​

Locked Into Paradise​

​

Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis​

Gear: Tactical swimsuit​

​

Alana didn't move. Didn't breathe.

Didn't dare to.

Because Serina's hands were still on her—grounding her, holding her, claiming her—and for the first time in longer than she could remember, she wasn't sure if she wanted to fight it.

She should.

By the force, she should.

But the way Serina looked at her—like she knew her, like she had already unraveled her piece by piece, taken apart the jagged edges and sharp corners and found something worth keeping beneath them—made something inside Alana crack.

It was terrifying.

It was addictive.

Her breath stilled in her throat as Serina tucked that stray strand of white behind her ear, fingers lingering, the warmth of her touch spreading like a slow, creeping flame.

"Because I'll carry it with you."

Alana swallowed hard.

You don't know what you're saying.

That should've been the answer. Should've been the warning. Should've been the thing she forced herself to believe.

But Serina didn't falter. Didn't waver.

Didn't let go.

And Alana—force help her—didn't want her to.

She exhaled, slow and shaky, something unsteady curling in her chest, something dangerous and aching and hungry.

"You say that like I fit anywhere," She murmured, voice lower than she intended, rawer than she wanted.

Serina's smirk didn't waver. Didn't shift into something cruel or mocking.

It softened.

And that—that was worse.

"You fit here perfectly."

The words were a promise. A certainty.

And they wrecked her.

Alana didn't think.

Didn't weigh the consequences. Didn't consider the aftermath. Didn't stop to ask why she was letting Serina's hands stay on her waist, why she was leaning in, why she was—

Oh.

Her fingers curled into Serina's collar, just barely, just enough to hold onto something as she closed the last of the distance between them.

Their lips met—soft, slow, hesitant, but not unsure.

Not anymore.

Serina was warm, steady, real.

And Alana—against all odds, against every instinct that told her to run, to fight, to never let herself have this—sank into it.

Just for a moment.

Just for one stolen breath.

And force help her—she wanted more.

But she shouldn’t.

Instead, her fingers tightened ever so slightly against Serina's coat. She broke the lock, eyes widened, realization coming upon her, trying to understand what she had just done. In that moment, Alana found all sense had failed her. At this one time, her guard had finally buckled. But what had been the deciding factor?

A choice?

A surrender?

A mistake?

A breath?

A moment?

“I’m….”

Their moment even?

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Alana Calloway ​

Oh, darling.

Serina shuddered in pleasure.

Not from the kiss itself—not from the warm press of lips, not from the hesitant, stolen moment of surrender—

But from what it meant.

What it proved.

She had won.

The crack in Alana's armor had shattered. The walls had crumbled. The girl who swore she wouldn't be taken, who swore she wouldn't belong to anyone, had given herself away—had offered herself up like a gift.

And if that wasn't the most delicious thing Serina had ever tasted.

She didn't move when Alana broke the kiss. Didn't pull away when she stumbled backward, when her fingers curled against Serina's collar, when the realization slammed into her like a tidal wave.

Serina only smiled.

Slow. Satisfied.

Like a serpent that had just swallowed something whole.

Alana's breath came shaky, her red eyes wide with disbelief, her lips parted, still wet from the kiss she never should have allowed herself to take.

"I'm…"

Oh, sweetheart.

Serina's fingers traced deliberately down Alana's spine, her hands still resting possessively at her waist, holding her there, keeping her from running, from escaping what had just happened.

And then—finally—she spoke.

Soft. Indulgent.

A whisper of silk and sin.

"You are mine."

A breath. A shiver of amusement dancing through her voice, through the pure, unfiltered pleasure she took in breaking her.

She tilted her head, blue eyes gleaming, utterly mocking in their tenderness.

"Say it, darling," she murmured, fingers tightening at Alana's waist, pressing just slightly into warm skin. "Let me hear it from those beautiful lips."

A slow inhale, savoring the moment.

She could feel the war inside Alana now, the way she was spiraling, grappling with what she had just done—with the reality that she had fallen into Serina's hands, willingly.

Oh, she knew Alana would try to justify it.

Try to rationalize it.

But the truth?

The truth was simple.

She had wanted it.

She had wanted Serina.

And she had taken her.

Serina let her fingers drag slowly along Alana's jaw, tilting her chin up, forcing her to look at her, to see the satisfaction painted across her features, to feel the weight of what she had done.

"Don't be scared, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice a slow, deliberate stroke of heat against the space between them.

Her lips brushed against Alana's ear, her breath warm, intimate, lethal.

"I always get what I want."

Her fingers trailed lower, down Alana's arm, lingering at her wrist, feeling the faint pulse racing beneath her skin.

"And right now, darling?" A slow, wicked smirk, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

"I want you. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Just, you."

A pause.

A breath.

A victory.

And then—she laughed.

Soft. Delighted.

Not cruel, not mocking—just genuinely pleased in a way she rarely allowed herself to show.

 

[Alana Calloway]

.​

Locked Into Paradise​

​

Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis​

Gear: Tactical swimsuit​

​

Alana was shaking.

Not out of fear. Not out of anger.

But because something inside her had cracked wide open, and there was no hiding it now.

No pretending she hadn't fallen.

No pretending she hadn't wanted this.

Her breath came unsteady, red eyes locked onto Serina's, searching for something—some cruel edge, some lie she could use as a weapon, something to push against so she wouldn't have to face the truth curling hot and undeniable in her chest.

But there was nothing.

Nothing but the certainty in Serina's voice.

Nothing but the weight of her touch, warm and real, fingers resting at her waist, pressing into her skin like a promise she wasn't sure she knew how to accept.

"Say it, darling."

Alana swallowed hard.

The words should have stuck in her throat. Should have choked her on the way out.

But they didn't.

"...Yours."

Soft. True.

A single word, and yet it felt like surrendering her entire soul.

And by the force, she should have hated it.

She should have fought it.

But she didn't.

Because Serina was right.

She felt it. The relief. The quiet in her mind. The weight lifting off her shoulders.

She wasn't carrying it alone anymore.

Alana exhaled, her last defenses slipping from her grasp, vanishing like smoke between her fingers.

And when Serina leaned in, when warm lips met hers again—slow, deliberate, less a demand and more a claim—

She didn't resist.

She let it happen.

Because for the first time in a long, long time…

She wanted to be caught.

“You are mine…”

She said, more audible than before.

She had lost.