#i hope this was okay!!!! and what you had in mind!! i had to change the dialogue a lil bit to make it sound more remy to me i dunno

[luvergirl-866]

dreams, fairytales, fantasies

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 7.9k

c/w - language, drinking, fluff, and ofc smut (sub p, sub a, strap, eating, fingering…it’s a lot) (also heavy usage of pet names bc i am a sucker for them)

a/n - this is just a real depiction of what happens when lesbians go two weeks without sex 😔. no but fr, i hope yall enjoy!!! (feedback much appreciated, esp bc this is not edited) (also, im majorly crediting the smut queen @basketball-lesbians bc ease and stiff changed the way i write smut forever).

The much anticipated make-up sex doesn’t happen until a week later, which is about six days after they’ve actually made up—which they manage without the involvement of sex. And that’s a great thing for them, considering they have a history of resolving arguments via orgasm, but they also can’t give themselves the credit because the no-sex thing wasn’t really their decision. (If it had been up to them, Azzi would have jumped Paige’s bones that very night they made up).

That day, though, was spent talking, reliving their breakup and the horrible year afterward for the sole purpose of truly processing it. They had continued talking during that time, of course, claiming to be ‘best friends’, but they meticulously danced around the topic of their high school relationship and the fact they were both miserable once it ended, grieving it in their own ways. They talked for hours, and both of them quickly came to realize that there was so much they hadn’t told each other. Azzi was shocked to hear that Paige spent her entire freshman year moping around, never getting out and having fun like Azzi wanted her to do. (“Seriously? I thought you hoed around?” she said when Paige gave her this information. Paige shrugged and said, “I told you I did, so I didn’t seem lame. But yeah, no. I smoked a lot and looked at our pictures and that’s—well, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”)

Paige was just as shocked when Azzi told her she tried going on a date with someone else, just to get the breakup off her mind, and they kissed at the end of the night and she went inside and cried for a long time. (“I didn’t know you went out with anyone,” Paige said, not particularly jealous, just a little hurt because even though they were exes that year, they were still best friends, and they usually told each other everything. Azzi picked her thumbnail, eyebrows drawn at the memory. “It hurt too much. I didn’t even tell my mom.” That, if possible, made Paige feel even worse).

Anyway, by the time they talked everything through (with some crying involved, and maybe a little kissing, too), it was late at night and they were both emotionally exhausted from the day. They’d gotten ready to sleep and laid in Azzi’s bed and murmured about how much they’d missed each other for about two minutes before they promptly assed out.

And then it was the week, their time consumed with classes, homework, practice, and even grownup things like grocery shopping. They spent as much time together as they could, practically magnetized to each other, attached at that hip when they were in the same vicinity. But they were both swamped with homework and while they tried to do it together that Monday, they quickly realized that it was impossible to focus around each other. Or at least, Azzi did. (“C’mon, we’re doing okay,” Paige said, at approximately 1 A.M., when they had been at it for four hours and had gotten absolutely nothing done. “I wouldn’t say that, P,” Azzi mumbled, slinging her bag over her shoulder and pecking a sulking Paige on the lips. “No more school around each other, ‘kay?” She couldn’t help but be amused at Paige’s exaggerated pouting. “I think we’ll be okay. See you tomorrow, baby.”

That night, her phone had blown up with messages from Paige, most of them silly selfies of her pouting at the camera as she sat at her desk with schoolwork laid out in front of her. Even that was enough to distract Azzi from her work).

So, no, it’s not until Saturday—the night of their second-first date—that the make-up sex (that can’t really be considered make-up sex anymore) happens. But, as the saying goes, good things come to those who wait. And that must be true because that night turns out to be very good indeed.

It all starts before the two of them are even together, with Azzi picking her outfit for their date. She’s never been good with decisions, and this is a big one in her book. She needs to wear the perfect outfit—something sexy and cute and romantic and alluring all at once. An hour into choosing the outfit, Caroline is beginning to regret offering to help.

“Okay, you’re just overthinking it now,” she says, exasperated, watching as Azzi frowns at herself in the mirror.

“If I don’t overthink it I’ll end up looking ugly,” Azzi says, turning this way and that in the mirror, making sure the outfit looks good from every angle. But when she takes a step back, leans her head to the side just so, and turns to the left, the shirt suddenly makes her look atrocious. With a frustrated sigh, Azzi takes it off, tossing it onto the ground.

Caroline groans, flopping onto Azzi’s bed. “What was wrong with that one?”

“Everything,” Azzi replies, going back to her closet to try again. “Has my wardrobe always been this bad?” she mutters to herself.

“You look good in everything, Az,” Caroline says. “And your clothes are cute. Paige is going to love you in whatever you decide to wear.”

Which is true—Azzi could be wearing jorts and a flannel and Paige would still swear up and down she’s the prettiest girl in the world. But love and want are two different things. After two weeks of no sex Azzi needs to be wanted.

“You know what your problem is?” Caroline asks as Azzi rummages through her clothes.

“What?” Azzi asks, sort of desperately.

“Your bra,” Caroline says simply.

Azzi looks down at her bra, then turns to Caroline, a little confused. “It’s a cute bra, though?”

“Yeah, it’s cute,” Caroline concedes, leaning back on her hands and giving Azzi an up-and-down look. “But I thought you were trying to get laid tonight?”

Azzi nods, because duh she’s trying to get laid tonight. It’s all she’s been talking about all week.

Caroline wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Then, this isn’t really about your outfit. It’s about what’s underneath.”

As she stares at her genius best friend, Azzi nods slowly, starting to get it. “I need lingerie.”

“Yup.” Caroline smiles, satisfied. “As soon as you put some sexy panties on, I promise you, girl, you’re gonna feel better about yourself.”

Azzi is already reaching back into her closet, opening her special drawer and rifling through it. “Should I wear one she hasn’t seen before?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Caroline agrees, standing up and walking over to Azzi, peering over her shoulder at her array of underwear. “And don’t tell her you’re wearing it, either. It has to be a surprise.”

Azzi pulls a few sets out, but none of them particularly catch her eye, and it isn’t until they’ve been searching for a few minutes that Caroline reaches into the closet and grabs a still-sealed box, the logo of a designer lingerie brand on the lid. “What about this?” she asks.

It takes a moment for her to remember what the box contains. She’d bought it just a month ago, on a whim, and while it had cost her a fortune she also couldn’t not buy it. She’d, of course, had Paige in mind when she’d bought it, but they haven’t exactly had lingerie sex in awhile—with their busy schedules, they’ve only had time for spur-of-the-moment quickies and lazy mouths and fingers in the mornings before practice.

But this—this is going to be post-date, make-up sex. The absolute perfect occasion to wear insanely expensive lingerie catered specifically for Paige.

With an excited smile, Azzi (with the help of Caroline) gets all laced into the set. And once it’s on, it becomes surprisingly easy to choose the perfect outfit. Because Azzi knows, by the end of the night, Paige will forget all about what she’s wearing, the memory replaced by what she’s not.

———————————————

Paige, of course, tries to fuck her multiple times before they even get to the restaurant. It starts immediately, when she comes to pick her up and they share a chaste hug and kiss, and Azzi takes the flowers from her hands and turns to find a vase to put them in—Paige’s eyes trail down to her ass and stay there for longer than she’d like to admit. And then Azzi is carefully arranging the flowers, talking about how excited she is for their date, when Paige comes up behind her and holds her tight. It’s a gesture that Azzi thinks is innocent until Paige kisses her neck and murmurs, “You look good, Az. Makes me wanna make us late for our reservation.”

Azzi’s entire body heats at that, but she playfully shoves Paige away, not about to let their hormones get in the way of this date.

But then, it happens again, in the car on the way over. Paige’s hand rests on Azzi’s thigh while she drives, which isn’t unusual, and Azzi doesn’t question it—that is, until her fingers trace a slow but sure path between her legs. Azzi lets it go farther than she probably should, only pulling Paige’s hand away once she’s fully touching her clothed center. Laughing, Azzi returns Paige’s hand onto her side of the car. “Your thigh-touching privileges are revoked for that.”

Paige groans. “I didn’t even do nothing, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just keep your hands to yourself, weirdo.”

And when they get to the restaurant, Paige opens her door for her, guides her in by the small of her back, pulls out her chair. It reminds Azzi of a more mature, experienced version of the Paige she dated in high school, and it reminds her exactly why their relationship was so perfect back then. It also reminds her of the aching need between her legs, the one that’s been there for two long weeks and that now practically burns in anticipation. But, she forces herself to ignore it, to just focus on the romance of it all. Paige decides to make that difficult by running a foot up and down her calf, and when she hisses at her to stop, Paige laughs and says, “You’re imagining things.”

It’s not five minutes later that Paige picks up her phone and begins typing. A flash of annoyance comes from the side of Azzi that thrives off attention, more particularly Paige’s attention, and that’s so used to constantly having it it’s a little off-putting when she doesn’t. But then, a moment later, her own phone buzzes, and Paige sets her’s down with a satisfied little smirk.

Azzi rolls her eyes. “You’re stupid.”

“Look at your phone.”

“That’s rude,” Azzi teases. “We’re on our first date.”

“We’ve been on a million dates before,” Paige says, which is technically true. “Look at it.”

Amidst the usual lighthearted, joking tone of Paige’s words, Azzi also catches a hint of something demanding, something that leaves no room for argument—at least, not without repercussion—and it makes it impossible to focus on the setting they’re in without also thinking of the events that will occur when they get home.

She picks up her phone, and there’s a text from one ‘P Boogs 💗’. When she opens it, she finds a stupid, horny text, nothing short of what she expected: can we go fuck in the bathroom or??

Rolling her eyes, and a little relieved that Paige didn’t actually write anything sexy (because if she had, Azzi’s not sure she would’ve been able to resist), she kicks her under the table and sets her phone down. “No, Paige. What’d I say about no more public restrooms?”

Reminiscent of a small child, Paige crosses her arms and slumps back in her seat. “I rebuke that.”

“You don’t know what that word means,” Azzi waves her off, before motioning to their plates. “Now eat before your food gets cold.”

Azzi has only two glasses of wine, so by the time they’re driving home she’s the perfect amount of tipsy. Wine also tends to make her horny, which doesn’t hurt the situation.

“You’re really okay?” Paige asks for what seems like the millionth time. “Because if you’re even, like, a little drunk, we don’t have to—“

“Paige,” Azzi says before she can finish that god-awful sentence. “I’m mostly sober. We’re all good.”

Paige glances over at her, and when she sees the firm look in her eyes she nods, relaxing into a sly smile. As she focuses back on the road, she says, “Good. Because I have an empty apartment tonight.”

The thought of it—the thought that Paige asked her roommates to clear out for the night, knowing what was to come—makes Azzi shift in her seat. The ache between her legs is crossing into painful territory at this point.

By the time they get inside Paige’s apartment, every instinct in Azzi’s body tells her to jump Paige’s bones as soon as the door is locked behind them. But Paige doesn’t really give her a chance—first kicking off her shoes and then immediately heading towards the kitchen. Azzi trails behind her as she opens the fridge.

“Hungry?” Azzi asks, a little confused considering they just had a fairly large meal at dinner. But Paige shakes her head, reaching into the side drawer of the fridge and pulling out a seltzer.

She waves it at Azzi with a smile, though it’s a little unusual—almost wavering? Not the familiar one Azzi’s used to. “Wanted a little drink.”

“Okay,” Azzi says slowly, leaning against the counter, watching as Paige cracks the can open. She shouldn’t be surprised—she herself is tipsy and it’s only fair that Paige would want to catch up after she had to drive. But Azzi has been a little blinded by the filthy thoughts that have been playing through her head all night, and was under the impression they’d fuck against the front door the minute they got home.

She’s already waited two weeks, she reminds herself. Paige only needs a drink or two—they don’t want to be drunk, not tonight—so what’s a couple more minutes?

“It’s kinda hot in here,” Paige says abruptly, and when Azzi looks at her, her cheeks flush. “Isn’t it?”

Azzi’s a little warm, but it’s mostly a mix of the alcohol and pure horniness, so she shakes her head. “Feels okay to me.”

“Oh,” Paige says, and then takes a long swig of her seltzer. She offers up that strange, wavering smile again.

Azzi studies her. This is her best friend, the girl she knows better than she knows herself. Paige is practically an extension of her at this point, it’s that easy for them to read each other. But right now, Paige is acting strange in a way Azzi can’t quite place. She’s been flirting like normal all night, but now that they’re alone she’s putting space between them. And that’s not to mention the blushing, the weird smiling, and the need for a drink.

As Paige takes an extra-long gulp of seltzer, it finally clicks where Azzi has seen this behavior from her: Back in high school, not long into their relationship, the first time they had sex.

She’s nervous.

But, no, that can’t be it, can it? They’ve slept together countless times in the four years since then. Paige knows Azzi’s body like the back of her hand. There’s no reason to be nervous.

Sure that she’s got it all wrong, Azzi crosses over to Paige, watching the way Paige’s gaze falters as she sidles up to her. “Hey,” she says, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck, “you good?”

Paige blinks, then swallows thickly. “Me? Yeah, I’m all good.” She takes a sip from her drink. “Why you asking?”

Azzi hums, bringing a hand down to guide Paige’s free one to her waist—something she usually never has to do, as Paige tends to be pretty handsy. “You’re acting…weird, all of a sudden.”

Paige gives her a long, hard look, and Azzi thinks she’s about to deny it again but then Paige is sighing and setting her drink on the counter behind her, wrapping both arms around Azzi’s waist. “I guess I feel a little…nervous, for some reason?” she shakes her head, locks her hands behind Azzi’s back as if to steady them. “I’on know, bro. It’s stupid.”

Azzi shakes her head, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of Paige’s neck. “It’s not stupid.”

“Kinda is,” Paige says, chuckling at herself but it’s a shaky, breathy sound.

“Hey,” Azzi says gently, bringing a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair from Paige’s face, “if you’re not up to it, we don’t have to.” (Even though she spent the entire night suffering through a thong up her ass. The things we do for love.)

But Paige firmly shakes her head, gripping Azzi’s waist more tightly just to show how much she means it. “No, I don’t—you have no idea how much—“

“Yes, I do,” Azzi says incredulously. “I really fucking do.”

Paige’s breath hitches, and her gaze flicks down to Azzi’s lips. Azzi does the same, allured by the shiny gloss there, knowing it’s vanilla flavored from their previous chaste kisses tonight. She wants to taste more of it. Wonders if Paige’s lotion is vanilla, too.

“P,” she murmurs. Paige’s eyes don’t waver away when she hums, “Yeah?”

“Don’t be nervous,” she says quietly, bringing a hand down to cup her cheek, which gets Paige to look at her. “You know me,” she almost whispers.

Slowly, Paige nods, and when she leans down to connect their lips, Azzi nearly groans at the slight contact. It’s chaste to the point of innocent but it’s something, and they’re alone, and god does Paige look so good in this outfit. Paige readjusts, shifting so their legs are slotted together as she deepens the kiss just slightly, and Azzi reminisces on how she’s been waiting for this all night. Since that fateful night at Ted’s, really.

With Paige’s leg between her thighs, Azzi takes the opportunity to bare down, just slightly, only enough to increase the tension between her legs more than relieve it. But Paige groans into her mouth at the feeling and it lights her senses on fire.

They found a good dynamic years ago, and it’s one in which Paige often leads, allowing Azzi to follow without giving her the responsibility of being the first to move, to make decisions—something she’s always been more hesitant with. The past six months they’ve experimented some, stepping out of the comfort zone they had in high school and trying new things. But they still found that, for the most part, Paige prefers to lead, and Azzi prefers to be led—it just works.

But, even now, as Azzi dips her tongue into Paige’s mouth and brushes it against her’s, Paige still seems a little withheld. It’s obvious that she’s overthinking this, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why—this is big for them. They’ve talked about their feelings and gone on their first date and this feels a little like the last step in a routine that will throw them back into that all-consuming, intense relationship they had in high school. Which is exciting, and it feels natural, like it’s only the right thing to do—but it’s a little scary, too. And, knowing she’s being expected to lead, Paige is worried about getting it wrong. Messing up, somehow.

So when Azzi pushes against the fabric of Paige’s blazer, letting it slip off her shoulders, it’s not really a conscious thought that she’s taking over this time. It’s just—something she needs to do. And, if the absolute fire in her belly says anything, it’s something she wants to do, too.

Opening her mouth a little wider, Azzi sucks Paige’s tongue gently between her lips, drawing it out slightly, and when she pulls off it she opens her eyes to find Paige with her mouth wide open, tongue out, barely five minutes into kissing and already looking so desperate for her.

The sight makes Azzi groan a little, her eyes trailing from Paige’s lips, to the curve of her jaw, to her slender neck, and without thinking about it she slides her hands around Paige’s throat, squeezing experimentally. It elicits the right reaction, Paige’s eyes widening, hands sliding down to Azzi’s ass.

Pulling her close again, Azzi ducks down, moving a hand to the side to kiss sloppily at the skin revealed there. Paige sighs, always having liked being kissed on the neck, and Azzi mutters, “Marks?”

There’s a slight pause, Azzi’s lips hovering just shy of kissing the skin of Paige’s neck, and as soon as Paige hums out a noise of affirmation, she’s basically attacking her, tongue soothing over skin as she sucks hungrily. Her hips grind instinctively down on Paige’s knee as her hands slide lower, down her chest to squeeze her tits through her thin tank. Paige gasps, using her leverage on Azzi’s ass to pull her down harder on her leg. At this point, she’s sure she’s soaking through her fancy lingerie just listening to the little noises Paige is making, and suddenly, Azzi feels hungry. The kind of hungry that tends to be insatiable.

As soon as the thought comes to her, her hands fly to the button of Paige’s jeans, staring down to watch her hands work it open. Paige watches, too, then brings a hand up to Azzi’s cheek. Azzi halts her movements, looking up at her, searching her face for any sign to stop and finding a little hesitancy there. “Hey,” she says, “you good?”

Paige nods, then glances furtively down at Azzi’s hands. “I don’t think I’m ready for—your fingers.”

Soothing her hands across Paige’s hips, Azzi nods, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. “I know, baby,” she says—Paige has always needed a good amount of buildup before any actual intrusion. “Wasn’t gonna use my fingers.”

Paige blinks, thoughts obviously a little sluggish as it takes a moment for the words to register, but once she does, she nods eagerly. “Shit. Okay.”

With one last peck on the lips, Azzi’s fingers get back to work, and as she slides the jeans down her legs she goes down with them, dropping slowly to her knees. She helps Paige step out of the pants and then tosses them to the side, looping her arms around her thighs and urging her to widen her stance. She presses a few comforting kisses to Paige’s pelvic bone and across her hips, breathing in the familiar scent of her as her kisses stray lower. As she licks up the inside of a thigh, her eyes open, glancing at the girl’s boxers and the wet patch growing on them. Feeling quite proud of herself, she smirks, biting at her thigh and relishing in the way Paige hisses.

“Stop messin’ with me,” Paige breathes, bringing a hand to Azzi’s head and trying to move her closer to her cunt.

“Uh-uh,” Azzi says, using a hand of her own to move Paige’s firmly away. When she looks up at her, Paige looks wrecked, which does amazing things to Azzi’s ego considering she hasn’t even touched her yet. Loving the expression on Paige’s face—lips slightly parted, eyes fluttering, the picture of submission—she decides to try and coax more out of her. “No touching,” she adds, something Paige likes to do whenever she’s being particularly needy. When Paige starts to protest, she moves her hand to her clothed clit and rubs harshly, cutting her off. “You heard me, baby.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow, either from pleasure or annoyance or, more likely, both. “Azzi, please—“

“Shh,” Azzi soothes, removing her thumb and licking a stripe up her boxers—the faintest taste of her already addictive. “Be patient.”

She expects more resistance—the few times they’ve switched roles like this, it takes at least an orgasm for Paige to take her commands. But today must be different—is different—and Paige dutifully shuts up, using her hands to brace herself against the counter as she tilts her head down to watch.

Pleased, Azzi removes her boxers, salivating at the pretty pink peeking out from between her legs, and it’s all she can do when she uses her thumbs to spread her open, groaning when she gets a good look at the familiar, dripping folds. “So pretty,” she can’t help but mumble, leaning forward to press a kiss against her, licking her lips to taste the arousal left there. Paige’s hips buck, and Azzi gives her a sharp slap to the thigh. Paige nearly whines, which is kinda new—they’ll have to experiment with it later. “What’d I say, hm?” she asks, unable to keep herself from pressing her tongue between her cunt lips and licking upward, eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head at the taste. “Be patient.”

“Fuck,” Paige gasps above her.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint in Azzi’s body to not just dive in and devour her like a woman starved. It’s been far too long since she went down on Paige, even before their two weeks of celibacy, and she wants nothing more than to push her tongue inside and draw out as much slick as she can. But she also knows all too well that Paige likes to be ate slow. So, slow it is, as she licks up around her folds, tongue dragging delicately over her clit.

Her eyes fall shut, focusing on how wet Paige is against her tongue, dipping just slightly into her hole where the taste is the strongest and reveling at how good it is.

When Paige makes a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat, Azzi looks up at her, watching her reaction as she gently sucks her clit into her mouth. Paige is leaning back against the counter, cunt pressed into Azzi’s face desperately, and it’s obvious she’s trying to keep still. But when Azzi’s tongue flicks against her clit as she sucks, Paige can’t help but gasp, hips bucking just slightly.

With painted nails, Azzi squeezes her thigh just enough to get her attention. When Paige looks down at her, she pulls off her clit with a wet noise and says, “Hold your shirt up, babe.”

It’s amazing how quickly Paige obeys, rucking her tank up to reveal her bare chest, nipples pink and hard. Azzi doesn’t even try to stop herself from reaching up to play with one of them as she dives back into her pussy.

Her clit is already puffy, sensitive to her every touch based off the way Paige moans when she flicks her tongue against it. She licks little shapes, taking note of which ones draw the most sound out of the older girl. It’s mostly for her own benefit when she traces the letters of her own name on her pussy, but Paige whines high-pitched and needy like she knows.

Azzi pulls away just enough to see that her clit is an angrier pink now, twitching almost imperceptibly, and she gives it a break, moving lower to suck around her hole, drinking the copious juices she’s teased out. When she presses her tongue inside, she finds much less resistance than last time, and her fingers itch to be inside her.

This time, when she pulls away, Paige whines again—the sound a mix of frustration and desperation—and Azzi soothes a hand up the inside of her thigh. Paige’s eyes are hooded now as they lock with Azzi’s, and Azzi smiles up at her. “Hey,” she mutters.

“Uh-huh,” Paige breathes, nearly panting at this point.

“Think you’re ready?” Azzi asks. Paige gives her a quizzical look and she holds up her right hand in explanation. “Wanna finger you.”

As if on their own accord, Paige’s hips jerk forward. When she says, “Yes,” it’s nothing more than a breathy little sigh, but it’s enough.

Nodding, her eyes go back to Paige’s cunt, gaze immediately going to her hole, clenching around nothing. She brings two fingers up and dips inside, then drags them through her pretty folds, making sure they’re plenty wet. And then, without another warning, she plunges into her pussy, moaning as she’s immediately swallowed by wet heat.

Paige’s reaction is visceral, hips pressing down to meet her halfway, hands falling to her head, previous no-touching rules forgotten. Azzi decides to let it go, though, as she watches Paige’s features contort beautifully, pleasure etched into every sound she makes.

Azzi pulls out, presses deeper. Does it again, and then stays inside long enough to push up against her walls.

It’s then that Paige starts talking.

“Oh, fuck, Azzi,” she breathes, still generally pretty quiet, something Azzi plans to have changed once she’s done with her. “You feel so—good, Az, fingers feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Azzi coos. She loves it when Paige gets to the babbling stage of fucking, and is quick to egg her on. “You like that, huh?”

“Mm-hmm, missed it—needed it—I don’t—“ she chokes on her sentence when Azzi plunges particularly deep. “Oh, baby, right there. So fucking good at that.”

“I know,” she murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Paige’s clit. “You missed me, right? Missed this?”

“Of course I—“ she gasps, arches forward, “did.”

Suddenly, Azzi speeds up, filthy squelching sounds filling the room as her fingers move relentlessly inside Paige, palm coming to meet her clit again and again. Paige mewls, shifting a little, and Azzi uses her free hand to hoist her leg over her shoulder, allowing for a better angle.

“Oh!” Paige cries out, hands gripping Azzi’s head for leverage. “Oh, oh fuck. Baby, baby—mm, so deep—Azzi, more.”

“More?” Azzi asks, pulling her eyes away from where she’s wrecking Paige’s cunt to double-check. Paige usually can’t take more than two.

“Uh-huh,” Paige nods fervently.

Azzi doesn’t slow down, concern about hurting the other girl cutting through her own haze of pleasure. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Paige says, exasperation filling her voice.

“I just don’t want to hurt y—“

“Azzi, if you don’t give me another finger right now I swear to God—“

That’s all it takes for Azzi to pause her movements, pulling out enough to add another finger, and finding it surprisingly easy when she slides back in again. It’s not long before she builds up to her earlier rhythm, Paige’s hips moving against her hand, and then wet sounds are filling the room again, slick trailing down Azzi’s wrist.

Somewhere between Paige’s high-pitched moans and desperate little whines, she calls Azzi’s name. Azzi presses a kiss to her belly and says, “Yeah?”

“Can you—?” there’s hesitance in her tone that gives Azzi pause, movements slowing once again to look up at her.

“What’s up?” she prompts, gently as possibly through the arousal scraping rough against her vocal chords.

“Just, come here,” Paige finally says, hands moving from Azzi’s head to her shoulders, urging her up.

Azzi softens, mind becoming a little less cloudy at the request. Carefully, she eases Paige’s leg off her shoulder, then works up to her feet, keeping her fingers firmly inside Paige all the while. As soon as she’s up, Paige’s arms go around her shoulders, pulling her in, and Azzi smiles softly at the absolutely fucked-out, but undeniably lovesick, look on the other girl’s face.

Pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek, she starts moving again, staying close so that Paige’s lips are right by her ear, hearing every sound she makes.

“I love you,” Paige mutters, forehead dropping onto Azzi’s shoulder.

Azzi presses a smile into Paige’s hairline, the gesture so innocent compared to the hand between her legs. “Love you, too, P.”

At that, Paige chokes on a moan, only just managing a feeble, “I’m close.”

Azzi nods, doubling her efforts. “Take your time, baby.”

“Mm-hmm,” Paige hums, but then she’s reiterating, “oh, fuck, Azzi, I’m really fuckin’ close.”

To be honest, Azzi is, too. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s come untouched, deriving pleasure from the simple act of giving it to Paige. But she holds back, forces herself to focus on the girl in her arms, running her free hand up and down Paige’s waist. “Yeah? About to come?”

Paige grasps her tighter, too fucked out to respond, but her following whines are answer enough.

“Give it to me, P,” she urges, knowing words are always the last thing Paige needs to tip her over the edge. “Wanna feel you coming all over my fingers, okay? Need you to show me how good I make you feel.”

Paige nods, and Azzi coos a, “Good, girl,” into her ear, and that’s all it takes for Paige’s hips to stutter, abs tightening as she spasms around Azzi’s fingers, crying out her name like it’s the only word she remembers. And at this point, it might be.

It takes awhile for her to come down, letting Azzi continue to thrust slowly for another minute or so before finally pushing her away. “Too much,” she breathes.

“Okay, baby,” Azzi says, pulling out slowly, bringing her hand up to Paige’s lips once she’s done. Paige doesn’t hesitate to take them into her mouth and suck, and it’s as she runs her tongue between her fingers that Azzi is reminded of just how magical her mouth is. Trying to sound casual, Azzi takes her hand back and says, “Hey, you all done?”

Paige is panting, hands going down to hold Azzi by the waist, looking as if she can barely hold herself up—but still, she shakes her head. “Nah, I can go for more.”

“Good,” Azzi says, stepping out of Paige’s grasp with a sly smile. Paige opens her mouth to protest but then Azzi swiftly pulls her shirt over her head, revealing her lavender lacy bra which leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Whatever Paige was about to say dies in her throat. “I may have planned for this when I was getting ready.”

Her pants are still on—Paige hasn’t even had the pleasure of seeing the garter yet—but already her jaw is practically on the floor. “Oh, shit.”

“Uh-huh.” Reaching out, she takes Paige’s hand in her own, leading her down the familiar path to Paige’s room. “You can thank Caroline, by the way. Was her idea.”

“For real?” Paige asks as they enter the bedroom. She plops down on the edge of the bed, watching as Azzi locks the door behind them. Her eyes rake not-so-subtly over her frame as she watches her. “I’ll send her a card and flowers for this shit.”

Azzi laughs breathily, leaning against the doorframe.

Paige raises her eyebrows and then reaches behind her head, pulling her own shirt off and discarding it on the floor. “Aight, I think I can feel my legs again. Lay down, mama.” She smiles deviously. “I’m bouta get you right.”

—————————————

Paige has never been a good liar—which is clear, considering twenty minutes later she has her head between Azzi’s thighs, making her legs shake as she eats her relentlessly.

She’s already put on the strap, and this is her way of getting Azzi ready—alternating between eating her slow and then absolutely devouring her, pulling away every time she gets close to the edge, overstimulating her without even making her come.

“Paige, please,” she basically cries out for the nth time since they started. “I need you.”

Paige only smirks from between her legs, quite cocky considering she just got fucked into oblivion less than an hour ago. “What was it you said to me earlier? About being patient?”

Azzi rolls her eyes (though it may be more from the way Paige sucks on her folds than how annoying she is). “Mm—shut up, you liked it.”

Paige sure as hell isn’t about to admit that. Of course, though, she had enjoyed it, had reveled in the pleasure she took from giving up control, letting herself be told what to do. But now it’s Azzi’s turn, and she needs to regain control of the situation-hence, the edging. “Do you want me to fuck you?” she asks, muffled in Azzi’s pussy. “Or not?”

Azzi can’t say no to that, obviously, but still sounds a little ashamed when she lets out a meek little, “Yes.”

Paige quirks an eyebrow up at her. “Yeah? You done bossing me around?”

Azzi doesn’t respond to that, lips forming into a cute little pout that’s also reminiscent of the face she makes when she gets bratty. Chuckling, Paige shakes her head, pressing a lingering kiss to her clit. “I’on think so, baby. You had your fun.” Slowly, she crawls her way back up the bed, Azzi scooching up with her. “Now you’re gonna tell me watchu want. And you’re gonna be polite about it.”

The demanding tone in Paige’s voice is usually enough to set Azzi right, but she must’ve gotten too big a head after her little stunt earlier because now she doesn’t say anything, just looks at Paige a little defiantly.

Admittedly, she looks adorable, and Paige wants to kiss that look off her face. But she can’t let Azzi think that this is how it’s gonna be now. “Alright, pretty girl. If that’s how you’re gonna be, I’ma get right back down there and make you come on my tongue. You won’t get no strap tonight.”

At that threat (which is baseless, considering Paige is absolutely going to strap Azzi down one way or another tonight) Azzi’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Okay, okay, no, I’m sorry, I don’t—I need you inside, Paige. Please?”

Grinning, Paige leans down and kisses her forehead. “That’s what I thought.”

Taking the silicon in her hand, Paige balances on one elbow as she drags it slowly through Azzi’s folds, taking extra care to bump the head against her swollen clit. When Azzi gasps, her eyes flit to her face, checking that she’s okay. “You ready, baby girl?”

Azzi hesitates, looking down at the toy between them. “It’s bigger than the last one.”

It’s true—this is a new strap, one Azzi herself actually suggested, claiming she wanted to try something bigger. They still have their last one, just in case this doesn’t work out, and Paige is about to remind her of that when Azzi shakes her head to herself and says, “It’s okay, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Paige asks suspiciously. “Because if it’s too big…”

“Nope. I’m sure.”

“Babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna.”

Azzi’s eyes move down to follow the cock, watching as Paige moves it methodically through her soaking folds, and her eyes grow a little wider. “Yeah, okay, I’m definitely sure.”

Amused, Paige watches as the younger girl stares, incredibly hungrily, at the toy. “Okay, princess. You gotta tell me if it hurts, though, okay?”

“I will,” Azzi promises. With that, Paige guides the tip down to her entrance, pushing her hips forward and against the resistance she finds there, studying Azzi’s face carefully.

After a moment, the head slides in, and Azzi gasps, wincing a little. “You good?” Paige asks, taking her hand off the cock to stroke Azzi’s cheek.

“Good,” Azzi confirms, swallowing thickly as her eyes meet Paige’s. “Just—go slow.”

“‘Course,” Paige says, leaning forward to press their foreheads together as she pushes in further. “Sweet girl,” she murmurs, mostly to distract her, “y’look so pretty like this, mama.”

She’s about halfway in at this point and Azzi gasps again, breathing out a word that sounds enough like a stop for Paige to halt. “Too much?”

Azzi’s knees are bent, feet flat against the mattress as Paige lays between them, but now she readjusts, wrapping them around Paige’s back for better leverage. “Okay,” she says once she’s done, giving Paige a little nod. “I’m good, keep going.”

Not loving the bossy tone of her voice, Paige makes a face at her. “Manners, princess.”

Azzi frowns but still lets out a little, “Please,” anyway.

With that, Paige jerks her hips, burying the dildo inside to the hilt. Azzi cries out, surprised and left breathless from the sheer stretch of it. “Shit,” she breathes, “so much for going slow.”

“Mm,” Paige hums, ducking down to kiss into Azzi’s neck. “‘S what you get for being bratty.”

“Yeah, okay,” Azzi sighs—Paige can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or actually conceding—and her head falls to the side, allowing more access to her neck, which Paige already marked up earlier.

“I good to move?” Paige asks.

“I think so,” Azzi replies, breath still caught from the sudden fullness.

Paige rocks her hips back, eyes flitting from Azzi’s face to her pussy, unable to keep from watching as she slides back in, eyes widening as she watches her cunt swallow it whole, basically sucking her in.

When she does it again, a little more smoothly this time, Azzi fists the bedsheets so hard her knuckles turn white. “Mmph—so deep, P.”

“Yeah? Feel good?” she asks lowly, rutting her hips flush into her when Azzi nods, building a steady rhythm. Her eyes land on Azzi’s face, contorted with pleasure, then rove down over her body—her neck, her tits, her stomach—until she lands back on the strap. The sight has her leaning down on her elbows, heart racing as she breathes deep to steady herself.

Picking up the pace just a little, Paige lifts herself up, watching as Azzi’s eyebrows furrow, her fists tight in the sheets. The bed is starting to squeak now, which just turns her on even more if that’s possible, and she nuzzles her nose into the crook of Azzi’s neck, muttering, “Hold on to me, baby, it’s okay.”

Azzi’s arms come up to loop around her neck before she’s even done with the sentence, and Paige smirks, pressing a few kisses into her cheek. “How’s it feel, hm? How deep am I?”

“So fucking deep,” Azzi breathes, and it shouldn’t come as a surprise how close she sounds considering Paige has been working her towards the edge for awhile now.

Paige brings a hand down between their bodies, using it to rub a few tight circles against Azzi’s clit, stopping when she starts whining. And Azzi makes a sound of protest but it’s quickly cut off by a moan when Paige’s hand moves instead to press against her lower abdomen, pushing down hard enough to feel the strap moving inside her.

“Baby, baby, please,” Azzi slurs, crying out in time with Paige’s thrusts, “right there—keep doing that, fuck.”

Who would Paige be to tell her no? There’s that whiny edge to her tone, all desperate and needy, a telltale sign she’s getting close. Pressing down a little harder on her stomach, Paige speeds up significantly, angling her hips up in an attempt to hit that spot deep inside.

Based off the high-pitched moan Azzi let’s put, it works.

“Shit, look at that,” Paige says when she looks between them again. The strap is soaking now, and so are the bedsheets, a mix of Paige and Azzi’s arousal leaking down onto them. Angling her hand down, Paige uses her fingers to spread her lips open, groaning as she gets a better view of Azzi’s cunt swallowing the entire dick. “Taking it so good, mama. Fuck, that pussy crying for my dick, huh?”

“Paige, fuck, yes,” Azzi gasps, clawing almost desperately at Paige’s shoulders.

“Close?” Paige asks, trying to gauge where she’s at based off the way her legs are beginning to shake, noises becoming less breathy, more insistent.

Azzi nods, maybe all she can manage at this point, and Paige rocks forward deep, pleased with the way Azzi’s mouth falls open, tits bouncing with each thrust.

They’re silent for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the bedframe fighting for its life and Azzi’s pussy squelching around her cock filling the room. “Hear that?” she asks, using her fingers to rub harshly against her clit, only adding to the filthy sounds in the room. “Best pussy in the world, baby. And it’s mine, huh?”

Azzi only manages a pathetic “uh-huh”, and that’s just not good enough for Paige. “Nah, you gotta tell me, princess. Tell me whose pussy this is and I’ll let you come, okay?”

It takes Azzi a moment, probably trying to gather her scattered thoughts, before she whines out a needy little, “Yours, fuck, my pussy’s all fucking yours.”

Nodding, Paige presses a kiss to Azzi’s parted lips. “That’s right, mama. You wanna come?”

Tears are gathering at the corners of Azzi’s eyes when she nods, and it only spurs Paige on further. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Come all fuckin’ over my dick. Lemme feel it, baby.”

And that’s all Azzi needs, her back arching off the bed, moaning all high-pitched as she comes, pussy clenching around the dildo, nails scratching down Paige’s back, leaving her shuddering. She doesn’t stop, though, rolling her hips deep into Azzi’s through every tremor, only stilling when Azzi shakes her head, tapping against Paige’s hip.

She gives her a moment to catch her breath before saying, “Can I pull out?”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi sighs, throwing an arm across her face as Paige slowly eases out of her. She manages to get the strap off and tosses it onto the floor, a problem for future them to deal with, before laying next to Azzi, pulling her into her chest. She chuckles at Azzi’s blissed-out expression, and Azzi’s eyes open at the sound, peering at her a little sleepily.

“You laughing?” she asks, no real accusation in her tone.

“At you? Never,” Paige jokes. Azzi slaps her chest, collapsing back onto it, sighing as she wraps a leg around Paige’s waist. She’s not the touchiest person in general, and Paige finds it endearing how snuggly she gets after sex.

Her hands begin to run up and down Azzi’s bare back, and when she hears Azzi sigh, she’s quick to speak, trying to catch the younger girl before she inevitably falls asleep. “Hey,” she says, “you okay?”

“Mm,” Azzi hums.

“Was it good?” Paige asks, even though she already knows the answer.

“Very,” Azzi replies, cuddling closer into Paige’s neck. “Missed you.”

“Two weeks is too long,” Paige agrees. Azzi chuckles softly, and Paige angles her head to look at her, only to find that her eyes are closed and her lips are slightly parted.

“Why are you tryna sleep,” Paige very nearly whines.

Azzi lifts her head lazily, resting her chin on Paige’s chest to raise an eyebrow at her. “Because you just fucked the shit outta me. I’m tired.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Paige sighs dreamily.

Rolling her eyes, Azzi lays her head back down, settling back into her. “Lemme sleep, okay? I need some energy for the morning sex tomorrow.”

“F’real?” Paige can’t keep the excitement out of her tone at this.

Azzi shrugs coyly, yawns. “If you’re good.”

Internally, Paige vows to be the absolute best. Even if it means no yapping.

Her silence only lasts a few moments but, surprisingly, it’s Azzi who speaks. “And, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d better ask me to be your girlfriend tomorrow.”

(Paige does, in fact, ask Azzi to be her girlfriend ‘again’, as she puts it. Azzi, of course, says yes.)

(Oh, also, Caroline does receive a thank you letter and a bouquet of flowers in the mail a few days later. Confused, she opens the letter, to find it reads, “Thx for helping azzi pick that fit for our date. you’re a g mama carol. p.s. the sex was ridiculously good.” Caroline sends a photo of it to Azzi, wondering why she needed to know about the sex. Azzi replies with a shrugging emoji and a, “She’s not lying though”.)

[kuroosatoru]

all to myself - mechanic!toji nsfw oneshot

cw: nsfw!!!, size kink, head(giving and receiving), switch!toji, dilftoji, coworker trope ig, unprotected p in v, he cleans you up ;), not proofread;-;

wc: 2k (yeahhhh it gets pretty steamy, buckle up buttercup)

the summer heat was starting to get to you, the ac in the shop had been broken for a while now and it's not like your boss was making a point to get it fixed. you finish putting a new battery in a car as a bead of sweat crept down your face, preemptively turning around as you see toji's reflection in the silver of the hood, "are you sure you've got that? i wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, doll." he asks, poking fun at the fact you were too small to be working on cars in the first place. you laugh dryly, "seems easy enough if you can do it, does it not?" you reply, causing toji to take a step back. "hey my fault being concerned. boss wants ya though." toji says, his tone had shifted, and you couldn't help but worry that you hurt his feelings, "oh, alright. i'll head over there when in a minute." you reply. toji nods, walking away briskly.

toji was a confusing man, flirting with you one day and completely ignoring you the next. it should've turned you away from him, but if anything, it just made you more interested in the older man.

it's only here do you realize just how good the dark haired man looks in his uniform, his grease-stained coveralls tied around his waist, revealing the black tank underneath, which hugged his pecs and exposed his large arms. your mind began to wander, and toji could feel eyes on him, "it's not nice to stare, y/n!" he yells across the garage with a sly smirk. having been called out, you start to blush and turn around, unable to find something to say back to him. usually, the two of you would have kept going, but something had changed. you say your end of service spiel to the customer, lead them back to their vehicle and make your way into the bosses' office.

-

you reach the end of your shift, and now it's just you and toji closing up shop. after mopping the floor and counting the register, it's time for you to get changed out of your coveralls and head home. you open the door and start to get undressed when you hear the door open behind you, "oh! sorry i can wait." you exclaim, aware that toji needs to pick megumi up from daycare. he licks his lips, "nah, it's okay, doll. ladies first." he says, backing out of the room. you turn to lock the door, but you decide to leave it open just a crack, hopeful toji would come back or better yet, take you home with him.

you shimmy out of your uniform, and toji watches from the inviting crack in the door. unable to take his eyes away from your beautifully greasy and sweaty body, the way your panties hugged your hips made his throat dry. his mind wandering and leading him to his thick, long, cock making your stomach puff up. he decided then and there that he wanted, no, needed to be inside of you. you turn around, noticing toji,"fuhisguro! what are you doing?" you exclaim sarcastically, opening the door. "oh you don't know what you do to me, y/n." toji practically whispers, closing and finally locking the door behind him, his cock was already twitching at just the thought of finally having you to himself. despite the two of you being alone, you got excited at the potential of getting caught.

toji towered over you, his eyes now darkened with lust. you reach for his bulge and he lets out a moan so small, you swear you misheard him, "oh i think i do." you say, untying his coveralls. your fingers graze his waistband and he flinches. "is this okay?" you ask, slightly concerned you did something wrong. toji looks down at you, "you never have to ask, doll. 's just been a while." you nod, taking the tip of his member into your mouth, swirling your tongue around as he whimpers.

"fuck, y/n." he mumbles, thrusting his cock deeper into your throat, causing you to grip his muscular thighs for stability as you gag a little bit. you dig your nails in, sending chills down his spine; he grabs your hair with one hand and uses the other to wipe the sweat from his forehead. toji can barely handle it, and he lets out a moan as he finishes in your throat.

"shit, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to." he stutters out as he takes his semi-hard member out of your mouth. you smile and swallow his load, making him blush, "it's okay, toji. but what do you want to do now?" you ask with a slight smile as you stand up.

"well, doll. i gotta pick up the kid, so [...]" he trails off, grabbing a shop rag to wipe himself clean. you both put on your normal clothes and head out to your cars so you can go back to your respective homes.

-

toji could not stop thinking about you whatsoever, and while the blowjob was mind-blowing, he was stuck up on the fact that he never returned the favor. so, after dropping off gumi at his friends house, he decided to go to your place. hoping you decided to stay in for the day. toji arrives and you open the door for him, surprised to see him, "oh? what are you doing here?" you ask playfully. stepping aside to let him in, you finally get the chance to see him the way you've always iamagined.

today toji had on basketball shorts, which didn't leave much left to imagine, not that the burning image of his cock shoved into your mouth wasn't bright as day, but still. you had just gotten out of the shower when he answered, so you had on nothing but a thin robe, causing toji's mouth to water as he imagined the beautiful body underneath. "y/n, i can't stop thinking about that night." he admits to you sheepishly as you lead him to your couch.

"if you sit down, i can do it again," you reply with a smirk, patting the couch next to you. toji shakes his head, "no, doll. i wanted to taste you." he says, now standing in front of you, nudging your legs open with his knee.

"mmm, please?" he urges, taking your hand in his, getting onto his knees. you take a second to think about it, and open your legs to let him in, but not before taking a second to actually look at him. he's rugged. his black hair tousled into a sexily messy pile as his dark eyes looked into yours. you can tell he hasn't shaved in a while, his stubble starting to come back, but you decided that wouldn't be an issue. you needed this.

toji reaches his and towards your now throbbing clit, "oh you're so wet for me, doll," he smirks, finally touching you as you moan in respose. his large digits slide into you as he runs his tongue along your folds, he smiles to himself when he feels you tightening around his fingers. seeing how you moved your hips to have more of him was causing a tent to form in his shorts and he groans against you as he gently takes your clit into his mouth, and you can feel your legs tremble already. you can feel yourself about to finish, and toji can too. your wanton moans filled the room as he kept eating you out.

and then he stops, taking his fingers out of you and putting them into his mouth to suck them clean. "tojiiii," you whine in response, "i wasn't done yet." he smirks at you, any part of his personailty now taken over by lust. he leans forward to kiss you, "im sorry, but i need to be inside of you, doll." he says. as he takes his shorts off to reveal his member, you see the precum leaking from the tip.

he places his fingers on your lips, "open up, pretty girl, i want you to tatse youself too." he commands, and as you suck on his digits, he lets out a loud moan, "mmm, that's a good girl."

toji takes his fingers out of your mouth and uses your spit to lubricate himself, the tip of his dick now positioned at your entrance, begging to be let in. you nod at him, "go ahead, i can take it."

toji is big, much bigger than you've ever had, your face twists in a slight discomfort as you feel yourself stretch around him, "oh you poor thing, not used to having a real man eh?" toji remarks, starting his routine of gentle, short strokes into you. if we're being honest, you weren't 'used to' anything toji did, his deceiving demeanor constantly surprising you.

you wrap your legs around toji as he starts to speed up his thrusts, his long cock poking at your g-spot as you dig your nails into his back.

toji felt the knot in the pit of this stomach tighten as his thrusts got rougher, the rhythm he once had being taken away by how intoxicating your pussy was to him. he buries his face in your neck and leaves bite marks trailing down to your shoulder, "y/n," he warned, "i'm close." maybe he didn't mind having another kid he thought to himself as he saw your face contorting to reflect the intense pleasure his body brought you, "mmmh, too." you mumble, his cock causing you to lose all sense of self as your legs push yourself away from him in a futile attempt to move.

"nuh-uh, doll. no running away this time," toji whispers as he pulls you back to him. now, he's bottomed out, the tip of his member making a clear bump towards the bottom of your stomach. you look down at the symphony of squelching the two of you are making and you cum around toji, gripping his shoulders to stop yourself from ascending to the heavens as your vision turns white. toji grips your hips and proceeds to use you to finish himself off, and you can't say you hated being his toy.

"oh holy shit, y/n. you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, look at you, taking it like a good girl." toji says with a whimper as he finishes inside of you. he doesn't pull out right away, in fact, he never wants this moment to end. with your face contorted in pleasure as your sweet pussy was still gripping him, he thinks to himself maybe i don't mind having another kid.

the puzzle the two of you were entangled in dissipated as the grip you had on toji got exceedingly weaker. your legs fall, letting him pull out. the mixture of your fluids soon started to fall from your legs and as you reach for something to clean yourself up with, he stops you. "i want to do it," he says eagerly, your brain unable to decipher what he meant after toji had you reach your limit just now. "okay, but you have to be gentle," you reply sheepishly, willing to take yourself as far as toji would help you along the way. he grins, excited that you're willing to be his toy.

toji gets back into his well-earned spot in-between your legs, your pussy slightly red from the fun he had just had with you. he blows a cold breath onto you, causing you to flinch in excitement. he kisses your entrance before sticking his tongue inside of you, swirling it in circles just how you did when you started this whole thing. you throw your head back against the couch you honestly forgot you were on and scream, "oh god toji, p-please don't stop." your eyes meet as he starts to rub your clit with his thumb.

"oh don't worry, doll. you're my new favorite toy," he says without taking his mouth off of you. you're barely holding on and you know you should've been done a long time ago, but who would've known toji had this much in him? who could've thought he'd have so much of himself in you?

notes: sorry if it's rough! but wow oh wow has this been something ive thought of a lot. i hope you enjoyed xoxo - jib

[miyukisu]

DT 01: Gym Encounters .ᐟ

EP 01 | "Babe, what would you do if a girl approached you at the gym?" ╰ feat. gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, hiromi higuruma, choso kamo, toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu, inumaki toge (JJK)

tags - mostly crack, bit of fluff, tiktok trend, established relationship, playfully toxic just for the humor, slightly suggestive in nanami/hiromi/geto 's part, sukuna is violent what do you expect

MEGA MASTERLIST

DOING TRENDS MASTERLIST

"What would I do?"

"Yeah." You don't give him a chance to prepare as you go into character, pretending to be another girl trying to shoot her shot at him at the gym. It was only then he realized he was being roped into more of your silliness.

What was he going to do now?

────────────

— Does everything wrong -> Toji (sus...) & Yuji (genuine lol)

He was always down to humor your antics, especially this one as it piqued his interest. His enthusiasm made you happy. But you should have known that happiness would be shortlived.

There was a smile already plastered on his face before you even approached. Although, you chalked it up to him anticipating the scenario and not ACTUALLY smiling at a random gym girl coming at him... because why? Just why?

"Heyyy," you drawl out. "Would you mind being my spotter for a bit? I'm trying out a new PR for my squats."

Of course. It had to be squats. To be fair, the right answer here, regardless of the exercise, was to say n—

"Sure."

What.

"Excuse me. What?" you say out loud.

He shrugged and simply repeated his words. "Sure. I can help you out. PR you say? That's great. Hitting your gym goals and whatnot."

Eyes were narrowed and fists were clenched. He doesn't even look like he was second guessing himself. You weren't in the mood to even continue at this point.

"Game's over. You failed by the way."

A look of genuine shock crossed his face as if he didn't just happily entertain this hypothetical gym girl. "What? How? I was so nice though?"

"That's the point!"

Dumbfounded, he tried tracing back his actions, figuring out what he did wrong. "Isn't being gentlemanly the point here?"

This time, it was you who was dumbfounded. "You... you thought... you thought this was a test to see how gentlemanly you were?"

How even...

He nodded, hoping that his nobleness would somehow change your mind. He's lucky you're feeling kind today. He might need to redeem himself another time though...

— Absolutely won the trend -> Nanami, Hiromi, Geto

He was a bit reluctant to do it at first—not because he wasn't willing to participate in your fun—in fact, he was always ready to do his best if you asked him of anything.

It's just that he doesn't find himself to be a convincing actor, even in this kind of situation.

"It's okay," you reassure him, "just act how you would if some random girl flirted with you at the gym."

He gave you an uneasy smile. "Alright... if it makes you happy, sweetheart."

Glad that he finally agreed, you put on your best flirty girl impression and walked over to him. You could still see the hesitance on his face, but you thought it was a bit funny.

"Hey there," you say, smiling. "I'm looking to improve myself... I'm sure a good looking guy like you would have some tips hm?"

A beat of silence passes before he laughs awkwardly, probably stalling to give himself some time. "I don't know about that. I'm not exactly a coach or anything."

The fact that he even responded made your eye twitch and your eyebrow raise. "Oh that's alright," you say sweetly. "I bet a even a professional pales in comparison with a body like tha—"

He immediately crosses his arms as if to conceal the goods—err... his massive pecs, rather. He offers a smile. But it wasn't at all friendly. There was a menacing edge to it—a cautionary smile, if you will.

"If you're really looking to improve your appearance then maybe you should ask my beautiful girlfriend instead. I'm sure her experiences will align better with yours, will it not?"

Your eyes widen for a second at his unexpected response. He managed to turn the girl down while boasting about you. Talk about hitting two birds with one stone.

You let out a low whistle in response. "Nice response. I liked that."

He lets out a breath he'd been holding in for a while, playfully clutching his chest in relief. "For a moment I thought I had failed."

"Failed? Baby you earned yourself a fun night tonight."

"Oh? Oh."

— Ignorance is bliss -> Megumi, Yuta, Inumaki

He goes quiet after you assume the role of another girl—one who has the guts to approach a guy like him who CLEARLY wants nothing to do with anyone else at the gym. There's a look in his eyes that's telling you, "I don't want to be bothered right now."

That earns him more points in your book, of course.

"A guy like you must know his way around the gym eh?"

No response. Well, if him turning his back is counted as a response, then that's just about it.

"What? You shy or something?"

Still nothing.

"Yoo hoo~ I'm talking to you?"

Not a word escapes him. Instead, he begins walking away. A goofy smile spreads across your face at his actions, proud that your boyfriend passed with flying colors.

But being the menace that you are—you decide to pester him more. It's not everyday you get to pretend to be some random girl trying to flirt with him.

You quickly follow behind him. "Aw c'mon don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly." You reach out to grab his arm but he quickly turns around with a condescending expression.

"Back off. My girlfriend's scary."

Instantly, you let go of his arm and it drops down to his side. "Seriously? Me? Why not say that you're the scary one?"

"Did I lie though?"

...

"Okay. Fair enough. You passed though!"

He sighs. He's sure he's going to have a head full of white hair at an early age...

BONUS (Inumaki): You prompt him to whip his face towards you as you grab his forearm. With practiced speed, he pulls his high collar down to reveal his mouth adorned with his cursed markings.

"Leave me alone," he mutters. Any louder and the effects would have been stronger. Obviously, it was still you that was playing pretend with him, but he needed to prove a point.

Your arm forcibly lets him go and your body turns the opposite on its own, beginning to walk away.

"This is kinda freaky," you said. "But good job!"

— Exaggerated but eh... guess it works -> Gojo & Choso

You muster up the best flirty expression you can and began approaching him. But before you could get any closer, he held out his hand to stop you.

"I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!"

A look of confusion crosses your face—amused by his exaggerated reaction. "I haven't even said anything?"

"I know a temptress when I see one. Just so you know—a temptress is nothing compared to a goddess," he exclaims. "The goddess being my girlfriend, by the way," he explains before clearing his throat. He was so into it that even his voice had a different lilt to it.

Throughout that entire exchange, he kept his arm up, still stopping you in your place. Even the expression on his face was overstated. It was kind of... adorable in a strange way.

"You're just saying that because you know the context of the situation."

He shakes his head. "Nothing you say will change my mind."

"I'm not even pretending to be another girl anymore..."

"That's what a temptress would say!"

You held your hands up in defeat, offering him a lopsided smile. "Goddamn, okay, you win the trend. Jeez... you can stop pretending now..."

With that, his usual relaxed expression returns before he wraps you in a suffocating bear hug.

— You cannot post this to the internet... -> SUKUNA

As soon as you began walking towards him, hips swaying at every step—he stood up, towering over you.

His aura filled the atmosphere. You were only playing pretend, but somehow he was radiating intimidation like it was the real thing—like a woman was actually approaching him and disturbing his gym time.

"Hey, big boy, care to be my spotter?"

He scoffed, crossing his arms, clearly flexing them for the added effect. "Come any closer and the last thing you'll be spotting is my fist heading towards your face."

"PAUSE." Your jaw almost fell to the floor. This was all for shits and giggles, but knowing him, he might actually do that. "You know that a girl is approaching you, right?"

"Yes. And?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'AND'?" Obviously, you weren't pretending anymore at this point. You were expecting him to simply ignore or maybe tell you to, "fuck off," but not downright ASSAULT.

"You asked me what I would do and I did. What else do you want from me, woman?"

He rendered you speechless. "Right... guess you did."

A deep sigh escapes you. This trend wasn't for him. But hey, at least you don't have to worry about him doing anything shady with flirty women at the gym...

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note I really like this idea like I'm so swag for this, right... pls validate me or I will cry

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5, chap 6, chap 7, chap 8, chap 9, chap 10

PART 9 MEET CRUELLA & SEEK HELP

The door swung open just as Carlos stood by the pool, his face lit up. “Matheo, you're finally here!”

Mattia approaches, he was wearing a loose tee and shorts for the pool where his father and the young woman were gathered, Carlos put his arm around his little one and looked ahead where the young woman was drinking lemonade.

“Matheo, meet Meredith,” Carlos announced with a smile, gesturing toward the woman lounging near the pool with a lemonade in hand. Meanwhile, Mattia took off his sunglasses, to see the young woman clearly.

Meredith stood up, her smile easy and confident. “Ah, so this is the famous Matheo I’ve been hearing about. Your father talks about you nonstop. It’s great to finally meet you.”

Mattia tilted his head, squinting slightly as if sizing Meredith up. “Really? Well, here I am.” He gave a polite, almost disinterested smile. “I’ll be 10 soon. How old are you?”

Meredith chuckled, glancing at Carlos for backup, but Carlos simply raised his brows. “I’m twenty-two.”

“Only thirteen years older than me,” Mattia replied smoothly, turning his attention back to his father. “And you, Dad? How old are you again?”

Carlos laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Wow, so curious all of a sudden, Chilie!" He said, "How about I go get some snacks and drinks to celebrate?” He pointed toward the house.

Mattia looked at him curiously "Celebrate what exactly, Dad?"

Meredith looked at his partner, as if he were scolding him or something similar, although it was a dissimulation, but for Mattia it was not at all discreet.

Carlos paused mid-step. “Your homecoming, of course!” He winked at Meredith and made his way inside.

The moment Carlos disappeared, Meredith’s phone buzzed. He glanced at Mattia, holding up a finger. “Give me a second, okay?”

Mattia watched him intently as he answered the call.

“Yes... Yes, Mr. Wolff, I’m listening... Oh, the charity event?” Meredith’s voice dropped to a professional tone. ���I’m afraid Mr. Sainz will be unavailable. He’ll be out of the country for those dates, unfortunately. Mm-hmm. Yes, I’ll let him know.”

Mattia’s brows furrowed. “Dad’s leaving the country?”

Meredith looked up, startled, then let out a small laugh. “Oh no, that’s just a little white lie. You know, to get him out of something.”

Mattia gave a slow nod, clearly unconvinced, but he let it slide.

“So,” Meredith changed the subject, his tone lighter, “how was camp? Amazing?”

Mattia ignored the question entirely. “You said you’ve heard a lot about me. What exactly did my dad say?”

Meredith smiled, walking close to Mattia. “Oh, only good things! He’s so proud of you— equestrianism championships, top marks in school. It’s clear you two are very – very close.”

Mattia took off his loose tee and showed a half smile. "Well, it's just that we're very close , 'just him and me' We have each other."

Before Meredith could expect it, the boy jumped into the pool, splashing some water on him in the process. He stood up immediately because of this.

Mattia came out of the water and with feigned guilt said, "I'm so sorry! Did I get you very wet?"

Meredith gave him a smile, forced to look like Mattia's.

"No, sweetie, it was just a little. Nothing to worry about,” she said as she dried herself with a towel she had near her chair. She took off her black hat and walked a little closer to the edge of the pool to talk to the boy.

"Hey, the other day, your Dad took me horseback riding. I used your horse. I hope you don't mind."

"Don't worry, Pinon is used to strangers. Of all the others, you look the most normal."

Meredith made a face, Mattia tried not to laugh so that his acting would be more real.

"Others? What exactly do you mean?" The young woman asked, somewhat curious about it, Mattia could see how her smile turned into more of a grimace.

He was satisfied about it, Mattia showed a sly smile. “Shall I offer you the complete information?”

Meredith blinked and asked him. “Explaine it to me!”

“As usual. I’ve seen the routine a thousand times. Horse rides at sunset, romantic dinners under the stars, and always, always a bottle of wine to top it off. It’s predictable, really.”

As if on cue, Carlos returned, his voice breaking through the tension like a knife slicing through butter. “I’m back. Do you want some wine, Mer?”

Meredith couldn’t help it, Mattia gestured dramatically toward her, his face saying, See? Told you so.

His dad noticed the silence immediately and looked between the two of them, suspicion creeping into his expression. “Did you two talks about something interesting while I was gone?”

Mattia gave his dad the most innocent smile, but before he could answer, Mattia dove straight into the pool, creating a splash big enough to avoid the conversation entirely.

Meredith, give him a smile, shrugged. “Should I assume that’s a yes?” Carlos asked, his gaze darting to his girlfriend.

“You guessed right,” Meredith replied smoothly.

Mattia stood on the other side of the pool, observing the adults as they exchanged looks that were anything but subtle. If they kept this up, the entire plan would fall apart. He needed to call his brother right away!

*****

The phone rang, and Martin picked it up, his voice lighthearted. "Y/LN residence. Mattia?"

"Yes, Martin. It's me," Matheo replied, his voice slightly amused. "Sounds just like you on the phone."

Martin chuckled. "I'm sorry, to whom did you wish to speak?"

"Mattia? of course," he said, switching gears. "One moment, please."

He put the phone down, only to pick it up again a second later.

"A Sammy Sainz for you," he said, with a hint of playfulness. "Sounds just like your twin." Matheo rolled his eyes, amused. "My twin? Very funny, Martin. Good one."

He took the phone. "Hello?" he said, her tone shifting. "Oh, Sammy, my friend”

Matheo’s voice crackled through the line. “Hi, how are you?” while the other side Mattia biting his lips. "Hey, how's it going over there?"

"Oh, everything's quite lovely here," Matheo replied. "We're expecting a bit of rain today."

“Sam, can you hold on for a moment?"

"Okay, but hurry, Math. I've got to talk to you!" Mattia’s voice was urgent, like he had something big to share.

Matheo glanced at the room, he started to looked around and grabbed the phone and hid inside a storage room under the stairs, where they kept the coats, when he closed it he couldn't contain his excitement.

"Okay, now I can talk," Matheo said, his voice is quiet small but excited. Before Mattia could told what happen, Matheo already talking too fast about what he is doing with their mom. "Oh my God… Mom’s incredible. I can’t believe I’ve spent my entire life without knowing her. She’s beautiful, fun, smart, everything I imagined, but better. And the gown she designed? Absolutely amazing.” on the other hand, Mattia of the phone rolled his eyes and waited for his brother to finish.

"But... she told me how she and Dad first met, and if you ask me, there's a whole possibility here."

Mattia, from the other side of the phone, took a deep breath and groaned. "Matheo, stop! We’ve got a major problem here. You need to bring Mom out here. Like, immediately."

"Immediately?" Matheo balked. "Are you nuts? I’ve only had one day with her. I can’t just-"

"This is an emergency, THEO!" Mattia’s interjected, cutting him off. "Dad’s in love."

Matheo blinked and laugh a bit. "Get out of here. Dad doesn’t fall in love. At least, not seriously.”

"Trust me," Mattia said, his tone firm. "He's serious about this one. He’s always holding her hand, kissing her neck, waiting on her hand and foot."

Matheo’s stomach churned at the thought. "He is? That's... horrible."

"Well, you’ll have to break them up or something!" Matheo urged.

"I’m trying, the young woman has Dad hypnotized as if he were a dog. The only way will be for us to reunite our parents as soon as possible." Mattia sighed, the weight of it all sinking in.

"Matheo, you’ve got to get back here. I need your help."

"I can’t," Matheo said firmly, his voice tinged with longing. "I want more time with Mom. You don’t get it. I’m still getting to know her, and I don’t want to just leave."

“Matheo you know what we have to do. If not now, then when?” Mattia’s voice grew louder, tinged with frustration. “I can’t stand seeing that woman with Dad anymore. It’s annoying just hearing her talk. Matheo, we have to get Mom and Dad together now. It’s the only way,..”

Suddenly, Mattia froze mid-sentence, distracted by a strange crackling noise on the phone line.

“Mattia, I can barely hear you,” Matheo said innocently, even as he crumpled up a candy wrapper next to the receiver. His mischievous smile gave away his true intentions.

“What? Matheo, what do you mean…?” Mattia’s voice was laced with confusion.

“Operator, the signal is gone!” Matheo declared dramatically, pushing the phone away with a theatrical flair. He ended the call with a satisfied grin, knowing full well he had just sabotaged their conversation.

On the other end of the line, Mattia stared at the telephone in disbelief. “Big help, little bro,” he muttered sarcastically before slamming the phone down in frustration.

Meanwhile, back at home, Matheo carefully crawled out of the closet where he had been hiding. As he stood up and dusted himself off, he realized he was not alone. His mother, Y/N, his grandfather, and Martin were all staring at him as if he had just announced he was from another planet.

Matheo tried not to be panic, he forced himself to play it cool. “Oh, it’s, uh, a custom we have at camp,” he explained, keeping his tone casual. “You know, going into the lockers and talking on the phone. It’s kind of a tradition.” He smiled nervously, hoping they would buy his excuse.

Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and confusion. “What a strange tradition, baby.” she remarked, her tone light but still questioning.

“It’s a bit strange, but I think it’s a nice tradition,” Matheo said, clearly trying to ease the tension.

“So,” he said quickly, changing the subject, “have you all had breakfast yet?” His voice was bright and chipper, like he hadn’t just been caught crawling out of a closet mid-scheme.

[loulou-land]

Don’t Leave Me (I’m Staying)

This was meant to be a tiny lil ficlet based on a prompt line (that I didn’t even end up using in the actual fic) and then it turned into this…a drunk bucktommy fix-it of sorts lol. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy it! Ps. Tommy is hard on himself in this one and blames himself entirely for the break up, that in no way represents my opinions on the matter. It’s just how it turned out in this fic 😋

bucktommy | wc: 2,711 | post break up, light angst, emotional hurt/comfort |

Read here or on ao3

The call came in a little past midnight. Tommy had gone to bed early—after the usual romantic comedies failed to hold his attention and only made him feel more miserable. He’d hoped for a rare, dreamless sleep. But instead he found himself trapped in one of his recurring nightmares—memories of leaving the loft, ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him—when the sharp ring of his phone jolted him awake, his heart pounding before his brain caught up.

Squinting at the screen, his breath hitched.

E. Buckley

He almost dropped his phone in his haste, thumb fumbling to answer the call before it stopped ringing.

“B—Buck?” he stammered. “Are you okay?”

There was a pause, and then a voice that was definitely not Evan’s, heavy with irritation and booze, spoke.

“Hey, this Tommy?”

Tommy frowned, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, that’s me. Where’s Evan? Is he okay?” His mind raced, already conjuring a million scenarios, none of them good.

“Define ‘okay’,” the guy snorted. Tommy’s stomach dropped before he focused on the rest of the words. “Your boy’s shit-faced. Keeps crying and saying your name. Maybe come get him so the rest of us can drink in peace?” the man slurred.

Tommy’s heart lurched at the thought of Evan crying. He forced out a tight thanks to the drunk man, getting the name of the bar while he yanked on his jeans and boots. Thirty-five minutes later, he was parked in front of a dingy-looking dive lit by flickering neon signs and plastered with shady looking posters promising “quality alcohol.”

For a moment, he debated calling someone else—Eddie, or maybe even Sergeant Grant—but then wondered why Evan would come to an out of the way dive like this, alone. Steeling himself, Tommy decided to go in, keeping 9-1-1 dialed on his phone, just in case.

It didn’t take long to find him. Evan was sprawled over the bar top, head buried in his folded arms, his curls sticking out every which way. Tommy’s heart raced at the sight of him, as well as feeling an overwhelming sense of relief at once again being in the same room as Evan.

Tommy made his way through the bar, clocking in all the exits and keeping an eye on the other patrons, bracing himself for any trouble.

“Hey, Ev—Buck,” he hastily corrected himself, as he came up beside him. “Let’s get you home.”

Bleary baby blue eyes lifted, unfocused but just as bright as always. A lopsided grin spread across Evan’s face.

“Tommy” he slurred, his voice full of unguarded wonder. “My Tommy.”

Tommy’s chest tightened painfully at Evan’s words. He knew he’d be Evan’s until the day he died—leaving that night hadn't changed that, had only made it worse. It had made him realize that Evan was it for him. But it also confirmed what he’d always feared: Evan deserved more than a broken man like him. Still, hearing Evan call him his, ignited a flicker of hope he couldn’t afford to acknowledge. Not right now.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he whispered. “You okay, Buck?”

“Nooo,” Evan protested, shaking his head so vehemently he almost tumbled off the stool, if not for Tommy catching him and keeping a steady hand on him.

“Not Buck,” Evan mumbled, burping mid-sentence. “Not to you. Ev…Evan,” he said, poking Tommy in the chest and trying to glare at him—a glare somewhat softened by the way he kept squinting and hiccuping.

Tommy exhaled a shaky laugh, a pang of something tender and broken twisting deep in his chest. Even like this, Tommy couldn't help but be absolutely endeared by the other man.

“Alright, Evan. Let’s get you out of here.”

“I don’t want to go home, it’s empty a…and—lonely” Evan replied quietly, eyes shifting away as he made himself smaller.

“Hey, no…it’s okay.” Tommy’s heart cracked, guilt taking hold of him. “I’ll take you to Eddie’s—”

“Ha!” Evan cuts in, chuckling bitterly. “No, that’s empty too.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy frowned, feeling a sense of foreboding creep up on him.

“He’s in Texas, looking at houses,” Evan paused, exhaling deeply. “He’s leaving…everyone leaves me. Why—” He trailed off, slumping as though the weight of everything was suddenly falling over him.

Tommy went rigid, the raw vulnerability in Evan’s voice cutting through him like a blade. Tommy thought he had braced himself for whatever tonight would bring but he hadn’t prepared for this—seeing the possible aftermath of his absence carved into the man he loved.

“Okay,” Tommy said, his resolve crumbling. His next words came out hesitantly, almost afraid…of what, he didn’t know. Rejection or the thought of what would come after—inevitably breaking his own heart again. “I’ll take you to my house.”

He knew it was selfish, he didn't have a right to this anymore, no right to be the one Evan leaned on. But he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to take care of Evan, just for tonight, even if saying goodbye in the morning might destroy him.

“With you?” Evan asked, his voice trembling with disbelief as he looked up at him.

Tommy’s stomach dropped. “Yeah, sweet…heart,” his voice catching on the endearment that slipped out. “With me. I want to make sure you're okay. Is that alright? I can call Bobby or Hen if you’d rather—”

“No!” Evan yelled, eyes wide and glassy. “Take me with you, please?”

“Shh,’’ Tommy soothed, gently brushing away the tears gathering at the edges of Evan’s eyes. “Don’t cry, honey. You can come with me.”

It took some effort to get him upright, but eventually, Tommy had an arm around Evan’s waist and one of Evan’s draped over his shoulder as they headed for the door.

Suddenly, a man stepped in front of them.

“So, you came for your boy?” the man slurred, swaying unsteadily. Tommy recognized his voice as the caller.

Tommy tensed, his mind racing through potential threats, readying himself to protect Evan. Only, instead of hostility or the expected homophobic barb, the man pointed a half-empty beer at him and said, “You better fix it. Take him home and grovel.”

Tommy blinked, caught off guard. “Uh…yeah,” he managed, unsure how else to respond.

The drunk shook his head and stumbled back toward the bar, muttering incomprehensible things all the while.

Tommy exhaled deeply. “Alright, let’s get out of here,” he muttered, tightening his grip on Evan as they headed for the exit.

______________________________________

The drive to his house was quiet, except for the occasional hiccup or muttered word from Evan.Tommy had gotten him to drink a full water bottle, before Evan slumped against the passenger window for the rest of the trip. He did his best to drive carefully, not wanting to dislodge him or have him bump his head. Tommy kept his eyes on the road but couldn’t help glancing at him every few seconds.

When they finally arrived, Tommy parked and hurried to the passenger side, slipping an arm under Evan’s knees and bracing the other against his back. He lifted him with a grunt, feeling Evan’s steady weight against him as the other man buried his face in Tommy’s neck, sniffing deeply and mumbling against his skin. The sensation of Evan’s lips on his neck sent a shiver throughout his body.

Taking a deep breath, Tommy moved inside, carrying Evan to the couch. He eased him down gently, propping him up as he kneeled in front of him to tug off his shoes, feeling Evan’s eyes following his every movement as he did so.

Then Evan mumbled, hesitantly. “Tommy, I’m sorry…just, sorry.”

Tommy froze, his throat tightening. He looked up sharply. “Evan, you don't need to apologise for this. I'm always happy to help you,” he said, keeping his voice calm, trying to soothe him.

But Evan shook his head weakly, a new wave of tears spilling over his flushed cheeks. “No.” he whispered, voice breaking. “I'm sorry for being too much. For messing it all up. I always…jump ahead of myself and…I didnt mean to scare you away.” His voice trailed off in a pleading tone.

The words hit Tommy like an avalanche, burying him under their weight and his breath left him in a rush. His hands stilled, hovering over Evan’s untied laces as his chest clenched painfully. Too much? He couldn't believe what he was hearing. When Tommy left that night, he knew he was breaking both their hearts, but he thought Evan would be able to move on easily. He’d convinced himself that someone as bright, good and incredibly kind as Evan would find someone better—someone who really deserved him. And in the end, Tommy wouldn’t be missed.

But, he hadn't anticipated this. He hadn't anticipated this.

Tommy sat back on his heels, trembling as the realization of Evans words and his own actions crashed down on him. He needed to fix this. He couldn't live with himself knowing that this wonderful selfless man blamed himself for Tommy’s cowardice.

“Hey,” Tommy said softly, his voice catching in his throat as he tried to draw Evan’s eyes to his. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out and brushing a stray curl from Evan’s damp forehead, his breath stuttering when Evan followed the motion.

Tommy swallowed hard in the silence of the room, broken only by Evan’s quiet sniffles.

“It wasn't you, okay? It wasn't you, Evan.” Tommy said, his voice thick, as he emphasized Evan’s name, needing him to understand that. “This…It was entirely on me.”

Evan frowned, the words lighting a fire in his eyes and stirring something defiant in him. His expression shifted, his mouth tightening as his brows furrowed in bitter disbelief. “Really?” He scoffed, voice cutting. “You're giving me the "it's not you, it's me" line?” A bitter laugh spewing from his mouth. “They all leave me, but it's okay…because it's not me,” he said derisively.

Evan sucked in a shuddering breath, his voice cracking when he spoke again. “You want to know something funny? I didn't think you’d leave. But—” His hands rose up to his face, gripping it as though trying to keep the words in, before giving up. They dropped limply to his lap.

Tommy’s heart twisted, knowing what was coming. He could already feel the sting of it.

“You left. You left me, Tommy.”

Evan’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the words still reverberated in the room.

And Tommy shattered.

Those words, they obliterated him. Every defense he had crumbled, leaving him raw and exposed, guilt bleeding through every crack. He felt the tears running down his face, and he tried to hold himself together—not wanting Evan to see what his words had done to him. But wasn’t that the very thing that had brought them here? Tommy hiding himself away from the world, scared to show himself for fear of being hurt. But he was already hurting—and had been from the moment he walked out the door that night.

He looked up at Evan, whose face was heartbreakingly vulnerable, tears shimmering in his blue eyes, but completely open to him, his pain laid bare for Tommy to see. It was only fair, Tommy did the same.

“I know,” Tommy rasped, voice thick and uneven. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

He pressed a hand to his chest—instinctive, desperate—as if trying to hold his heart together.

For one wild moment, Tommy wished he could rip it out and hand it to Evan, to show him that it had always been his. From the day Evan had smiled at him after a hurricane rescue gone well, Tommy’s heart had belonged to him. It always would. Instead, his fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt, useless, trembling, trying to show how much he meant it.

“I’m so sorry, Evan,” he whispered again.

Evan blinked at him, fresh tears spilling over as he exhaled a trembling breath. The room was silent save for their uneven breathing. They just looked at each other, months of pain and longing passing unspoken between them.

Then, they moved at the same time—Tommy leaning forward, giving in to the urge to touch, to comfort, to heal. He gathered Evan in his arms, pulling him close.

“You didn’t mess anything up, baby.” Tommy murmured, the endearment coming out naturally again. He felt Evan’s head drop to his shoulder, shuddering against him. “I did. I was scared. Scared of you seeing the real me…the broken man behind the façade. And I thought—” he stopped, his throat closing up painfully for a second. “I thought leaving would protect my heart. That it would be better if I left before I got in any deeper. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t any better. Oh god…Evan.”

A sob tore through him as he held Evan tighter, his grip unyielding, as if letting go might break him once and for all. Evan’s arms wrapped around him just as fiercely, his hands clutching at Tommy’s back with equal desperation.

For the first time in months, Tommy let himself feel everything he’d been holding back. The pain of being apart from Evan, the weight of his regrets and endless “what ifs’ that had haunted him—all of it poured out in body shaking sobs. But this time, he wasn't alone. Evan was there, holding him through it.

And Tommy felt Evan’s pain too—he accepted it, welcomed it, knowing he had caused it. It was his to carry, and he’d carry it for as long as he needed to.

Evan didn't say anything for a while, his face buried against Tommy's neck as he took in shaky, uneven breaths—shivering in his arms. When Evan finally spoke, his voice was a broken whisper. “It hurt. It hurt so much, Tommy.”

Tommy swallowed hard, his throat tightening with emotion. He nodded, taking responsibility for the hurt, before giving in to the need and pressing a soft kiss to the side of Evan’s head.

He knew Evan wasn't trying to hurt him with those words. He just wanted Tommy to understand and…he did.

Tommy’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper when he at last pulled himself together. “I can’t take away what I did, but if you’ll let me…I’ll do my best to make it better.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with a promise Tommy didn’t intend to break. Evan pulled back, searching his face before taking both of Tommy’s hands in him, squeezing emphatically with every word that spilled from him. “We…We will make it better. Together an—and, we’re going to stay for each other. O—okay?” he stuttered.

Tommy felt something click, something slot back inside of him—relief, grief, hope, love—all fitting together in a way that finally made sense. “Okay.” he answered, unhesitatingly, with the full conviction of a man who’d gone through hell and made it out.

Evan sighed, slumping fully against him in relief. Slowly, the tension drained from his body, his breathing evening out as exhaustion and the lingering effects of the alcohol took over.

Tommy shifted, settling them down to lay on the couch, his arms still wrapped securely around Evan. He felt completely wrung out, pulled inside out, but for the first time in months, he felt no regret.

He looked down at Evan, now curled up against him, his face tranquil and smoothed in sleep. Tommy brushed a hand lightly over his back, grounding himself in the reality of holding him again.

Tomorrow, they would talk. Whether Evan remembered tonight or not, Tommy would lay everything out again. He’d fight for them—for the second chance he’d been too afraid to ask for before. Therapy, hard conversations, whatever it took.

Because now he knew. He’d finally realized what he should have understood all along: Evan deserved someone who would stay.

And Tommy was done running.

He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but his mind flashed to Evan squeezing his hands and promising they’d do it together. Hope flickered unwaveringly in his chest, easing the ache in his heart and, at long last Tommy felt like he could breathe again.

Evan stirred slightly, his fingers twitching against Tommy’s arm as he mumbled, “Stay.”

Tommy pressed a kiss to Evan’s hair as he whispered “I’m not going anywhere, love. Not this time.”

And he meant it.

[venus-haze]

Your Name in Lights - Chapter 1 (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Nothing could have prepared you for your big break, co-starring in one of Soldier Boy's movies and the undeniable chemistry the two of you have on- and off-set. [AO3 Link | Masterlist]

Note: Woman reader, but no other descriptors are used. I left the time period intentionally ambiguous, but it has some '50s/'60s classic Hollywood vibes. The actress you're replacing and the director are made up for this fic.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Period-typical misogyny. Implied age gap. Power imbalance. Soldier Boy is his own warning.

Sweat gathered at your brow under the bright studio lights, and you hoped it wouldn't show in the costume test photos being taken. You turned to the side at the photographer's direction, wondering what the hell you were even testing for in the first place. Your manager had called you at nearly five in the morning, telling you to come to the studio right away, because if you didn't, some other starlet would get the part. Practically everyone in the room looked stressed, from the costume designer with her furrowed brow to her assistant, hovering near the clothing rack.

"I'm sorry," you began, taking the dress that was handed to you once your navy blue sweater-skirt combo was adequately documented. Sleek, black, with a slit up the side. Obviously for a nightclub scene. You hadn't done many of those. "What movie is this for, again?"

"The latest Soldier Boy picture," your manager Frank said, following you behind the privacy screen toward the back of the room to help you into the dress. You'd long since foregone any sense of modesty around him, the only person looking out for you in Tinseltown.

"In what role?" You wiggled into the dress and peeked around the screen. "This is gonna have to be taken in around the bust."

"Are you kidding? You're the leading lady," he said, zipping up the dress for you.

Your eyes widened. "What happened to Olivia Yearly? I heard months ago that she was cast in Soldier Boy's latest picture."

"Stormed off set and quit. She's a real diva."

"But she's Olivia Yearly, and I'm—"

"You're gonna be a hundred Olivia Yearlys if you play your cards right with this one."

"I haven't even auditioned or done a screen test. How did they find me?"

"Audiences liked you in your last few pictures. It was the people over at Vought who wanted to take a chance on you," Frank said, letting you steady yourself on his shoulder as you slipped on the heels that accompanied the dress. Of course Vought had the muscle to get just about any studio to lend out their stars to them, who could pass up being in a movie with a superhero? "Besides, this way Soldier Boy won't have to share top billing, and obviously you won't be getting an Olivia Yearly salary, so it's a win-win for them."

"Frank—"

"Don't worry, kid, you're not getting stiffed."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"They only filmed two scenes, small ones, from what I've heard, so it's not a big reshoot. You'll get the script this afternoon, the writers are changing a few things, a little less femme fatale, you know? I told them that's not your image."

You sighed. That wasn't your worry either, but Frank already had his mind made up. You'd only recently gotten fourth or fifth billing in your movies. Soldier Boy had been America's favorite leading man and a guaranteed box office draw for as long as he'd been on screen. It'd be a big break for you, the kind you always dreamed of. "Okay, let's give it a shot."

"Attagirl."

The script you received wasn't the most imaginative or groundbreaking, but it was good, a solid film noir that softened its femme fatale lead, the sultry Laura becoming the ingenue Laurie to accommodate introducing you to a wider audience next to Soldier Boy of all people. A sweet girl who'd become his partner and confidant as the plot progressed, eventually his lover by the end of the film. After all, Soldier Boy always got the girl.

From the moment he stepped into your powder pink dressing room, any notions you may have had about your co-star's clean-cut persona went out the window. The smell of marijuana took you aback. You recognized it, knew to stay the hell away from it unless you wanted a scandal that ended your career before it even began.

Still, you tried to be gracious and courteous, thanked him for taking a chance on you, let yourself giggle at the compliment he threw your way about how the makeup artist wasn't going to have a thing to do as long as you were in the picture. Except he steered the conversation clear off course. You supposed he expected you to be more naive than you let on, but you'd been around the industry to know better, tried to stay as professional as possible even though he kept pushing it.

"You know, if you ever wanna run lines, just you and me, I got a suite up at the Chateau Marmont," he said. "All the privacy you could want, get to know each other better."

"That won't be necessary," you said as politely as you could. "Thank you for the offer, though."

"Are you a virgin?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, it's either that, or you're frigid as hell. I can relieve whatever your issue is, sweetheart. You just say the word."

Your face heated up, and you turned away from him. "I'd like you to go now, please."

"Suit yourself," he said. "See you on set."

As soon as you heard the door shut, you reached for the glass of ice water on your vanity with a shaky hand and brought it to your forehead, staring at your bewildered expression in the brightly lit mirror in front of you.

No wonder Olivia Yearly quit, though you didn't dare imagine what he could've possibly said to her. But you had to try, if not for your own career, then for Frank's sake. He believed in you, even when you were just starting out in an industry that you'd seen cannibalize so many others. He must have pulled some impossible strings just to get you this role. You weren't going to let an unpleasant co-star ruin the opportunity of a lifetime.

Except he almost did, as you faltered ad fumbled your way through your scenes with him that first day. Frustration radiated off of the crew, and every time award-winning director Julian Garrett yelled 'cut', he sounded tired, as if he wondered if the movie were ever going to be made. They were all doing you a favor, especially the people at Vought, giving you a chance, and you had yet to prove you earned it. You knew if you didn't get it together, you wouldn't have another chance to.

Standing next to Soldier Boy by the facade of a made-up bar, you pushed your hair out of your face as a giant fan just out of frame kicked on to fabricate a windy night. The chill, the uncertainty, the tension, all set up perfectly for the scene.

"Haven't you ever had that feeling? Where you know something's not right, but you can't explain why?"

He nodded. "Sure I have, it's what's gotten me this far."

"Then you have to trust me, Soldier Boy," you implored. "Something about Everhart's plan doesn't seem right—seem on the level—"

"Cut!" Julian yelled.

Soldier Boy turned to the representative from Vought, hovering on set, probably a lawyer to cover any liabilities after the Olivia Yearly situation. "This is what you get for hiring some fresh piece of ass who doesn't know what she's doing."

Your hands balled into fists at your side. He said what everyone was surely thinking after having to start the scene over for the dozenth time, but it still hurt to hear. "I'll have you know my ass and I know exactly what we're doing!" you snapped. "Let's start from the top, Mr. Garrett. I'll get it this time."

The director sighed. "Alright, one more time."

When you turned back to face Soldier Boy, you caught a glimpse of his smile before it fell from his face in preparation for the scene.

The tension between you and everyone else on set fizzled out as you spoke, finally finding the sweet spot where you could match Soldier Boy's energy, your determination to succeed and prove him wrong far exceeding how intimidating you found your co-star until then.

"I really hope it won't take so long to get a performance like that out of you tomorrow," Julian said, looking relaxed for the first time all day.

"It won't. I promise."

"Better not," Soldier Boy muttered.

You kept your word, ran through your lines every night until you could hardly keep your eyes open, showed up on set early, even when Soldier Boy was an hour or two late, started getting on people's good sides, or maybe they were finally recognizing your potential now that you were only having to do two or three takes of each scene.

Despite your rocky start and the trepidation you felt about him, there was no denying Soldier Boy's charisma, how easy it was for you to play off of it. Then, between takes, he was more amicable, though you doubted his intentions were as mundane as wanting to get along with his coworker. But you found yourself flirting back when he did, telling yourself it was to keep up the chemistry between your characters rolling, even when the cameras weren't. Frank even told you over dinner one evening that industry chatter had already begun talking you up as the find of the year, whispers of your chemistry with Soldier Boy already drowning out the drama with his previous co-star.

During the second week of filming, the lawyer from Vought had pulled you aside to let you know someone from one of the big Hollywood gossip columns was going to be on set that week. You figured someone from Hedda Hopper's outfit, as she sung Soldier Boy's praises in her articles, though you read both her and Louella Parsons' columns religiously, especially after you were cast in the current picture, and public interest in you piqued. He didn't tell you about it to keep you informed, but rather to warn you to keep your mouth shut if you wanted your career to stay on the upward trajectory it was going.

You tried not to look at the unfamiliar woman too much, cigarette dangling from her lips, notepad and pen in hand, writing a sentence or two every so often. Her face was unreadable, but you tried not to let it get to you, not when the next scene was so important.

Outside of the same bar facade where you finally found your place in the film, you stood as Laurie in the black and white houndstooth coat you'd come to love, preparing to distract the two-faced Everhart so Soldier Boy could gather intel, the first big step in foiling his enemy's plan. Laurie was being thrown to the wolves.

"Soldier Boy," you simpered, "I don't know if I can do this without you."

"Laurie—"

Your eyes glistened with tears, voice breaking ever so softly as you placed a manicured hand on his chest. "No, I don't want to do this without you."

He took you in his arms and kissed you, deeply enough that you had to steady yourself on his biceps, that certainly wasn't in the script, but no one seemed to mind. "Be brave for me, honey," he husked against your lips.

"I'll try."

Again, his lips on yours, and you nearly lost yourself in his embrace until a loud "Cut!" tore through the scene.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from Soldier Boy. Your heart was racing. You could hardly gather the courage to look at him. It almost felt…real.

"Goddamn, I think that was it," Julian said.

"Should we do another take?" the assistant director asked.

"I don't know if we'll get anything better than that. Yeah, let's go through it one more time."

Out of the corner of your eye, the columnist scribbled frantically in her notepad.

The rest of the day, it seemed like you and Soldier Boy were on fire, requiring fewer takes as scenes grew tenser, more intimate—close-ups on yearning faces, the subtle brushing of hands, worried glances across the room. More than once, you felt your heart actually skip a beat when you made eye contact with him.

The movie magic dissolved by night, and a well-deserved day-off of filming awaited you in the morning—as did headlines that screamed of the latest Hollywood romance, spurred on by a photo the columnist had taken the day before, Soldier Boy and Starlet Sizzle on Set!

Starlet. You frowned. They couldn't have even bothered to use your name?

Small potatoes, Frank assured you over the phone when you called him about the papers, soon enough, your name would be in lights.

Vought was certainly pleased with the way you stole the focus from Soldier Boy's beef with his former co-star, all eyes on the two of you with just murmurs of undeniable chemistry.

"So, how does dinner sound? Anywhere you want," Frank said.

"Anywhere?"

"Sure, you're the talk of the town. Long as Soldier Boy's with you."

"Tell him it's his choice," you said. You'd make the most of the good press as you could, play his game within reason if it meant finally getting somewhere in your career.

"Alright, well, he'll probably pick you up around eight."

"Here?" You glanced around your modest apartment. Decently furnished for when you had a few friends over for drinks, though the striped wallpaper was peeling, and you were more than used to the smell of mothballs that permeated the air. "No, Frank, that won't do. Have him pick me up at your office downtown."

"You got it," your manager said before hanging up the phone.

By the time Soldier Boy picked you up, you'd already helped yourself to some of the bourbon you knew Frank kept in his office to settle your nerves. The drive wasn't too bad, he wasn't as handsy as you were anticipating, a bit disappointing, if you were being honest with yourself.

Somehow, word of your and Soldier Boy's date was leaked ahead of time, a crowd of fans and reporters waiting outside of the nightclub for your arrival. Its simple, sleek white facade would've been classy if not for the giant neon palm tree sign next to the actual palm trees.

You offered your best smile for the cameras, played up your relationship with Soldier Boy, giving him a kiss on the cheek and practically clinging to his side.

"It's been such a dream working with him," you told one reporter. "I couldn't ask for a better leading man."

As for whether or not the rumors of romance were true, "A lady doesn't kiss and tell," Soldier Boy said, his arm around your waist as he finally ushered you inside. The gaudy, tropical-inspired decor throughout the club was almost tacky, but you supposed it had a certain charm to it.

Sitting down in the booth reserved for the two of you, you felt like you just finished running a marathon as you settled into the plush red upholstery.

Soldier Boy looked at you, amused, "Just wait 'til the movie actually comes out, sweetheart."

A waiter arrived, asking if you'd like to start with drinks or hear the specials first.

"What're you drinking?" Soldier Boy asked.

"Bourbon, neat," you said.

"Make that two." He turned to you, his green eyes giving you a once-over, as if regarding you differently than he had before. "I wouldn't peg you as a bourbon girl."

"It's what was in my manager's office earlier," you said, quickly adding, "I don't make it a habit."

He nodded. "Good girl."

You didn't know whether or not to be grateful when the waiter arrived with your drinks, giving you an excuse to look away from him for a moment, flustered by the simple praise.

Soldier Boy waved him off after the glasses were set down, claiming you needed more time to look at the menu.

"Look, I know we didn't start on the best foot," he began, almost reluctantly, "but you're not half bad. And you kiss like you mean it. I can't tell you the number of times I've had to kiss a broad for a scene and might as well have been kissing cardboard."

"So I'm not frigid?"

He chuckled. "Hell no."

The two of you so engrossed in conversation, you'd forgotten to even look at the menu when the waiter returned, and Soldier Boy ended up ordering for you—as soon as the two of you were alone again, he muttered something about the drinks being the only thing worth going to the place for. The dry baked potato and rubbery steak presented to you on an otherwise gorgeous plate proved him right, and you tried your best to pick at your food without too much of a puss on your face.

Drinks kept flowing, and you switched from bourbon to your usual order, though Soldier Boy was outpacing you by a mile.

"How are you not plastered?" you asked.

"Takes about three times as much alcohol to get me drunk than a normal person."

"What's it like, being a superhero? I mean, I've met plenty of other actors, but no one like you," you said.

"It's a lot of responsibility," he began, his canned answer disappointing you a bit, "from the day I was born I had these powers, I don't know why it was me over anyone else, but I have to use them to help people, to do good."

"But what does it feel like? Some kind of adrenaline rush coursing through your veins? Is it something that just happens?"

"You asking if being a supe gets me hard?"

Your face heated up, "No, not like that, I mean—"

"I don't get whisky dick, I can promise you that, sweetheart."

"Have you ever heard of subtlety?"

He shook his head. "That's the limit of my powers. I can do everything but fly and be subtle."

Despite yourself, you laughed. Maybe it was the drinks, or finally having a chance to talk to Soldier Boy outside of a professional setting let you scratch just beneath the surface of the world's first superhero. Since his debut, when the country was in desperate need of a superhero like him, there had been other supes, each with unique powers, but none inspired the awe that he did.

Over the course of the conversation, he moved in closer to you, your space becoming his until you finished your drink, and he managed to talk you into just one more, his hand squeezing your thigh.

"The table service takes too long, I don't mind going up to the bar," you said.

He shrugged, and you took that as permission to go ahead as you slid out of the booth. Not quite steady on your feet, you made it to the bar in one piece, feeling light as you told the bartender your orders.

The bar's polished surface allowed you to see your reflection—and Olivia Yearly's, right next to you. Striking black hair with hardly a strand out of place, green eyes practically made for technicolor, and her signature pouty red lips, you tried not to swoon at the sight of her. She didn't pay any attention to you, of course she wouldn't, she had no real reason to, until you forced yourself to speak up and say something to one of your idols.

"Miss Yearly? I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm such a big fan," you said.

"Thank you. It's always nice to—" She raised a neatly plucked eyebrow. "Hold on, you're that new girl, the one in the Soldier Boy picture, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"He hasn't scared you off yet? You can't be that desperate for a job."

"Soldier Boy's been a wonderful co-star," you said.

She scoffed, her upper lip curling in a sneer. "How much is Vought paying you to say that? He's the most shameless, unprofessional man I've ever had the displeasure of sharing a sound stage with, and I've been on a lot."

"I know, I've seen almost all of your movies," you confessed quietly.

"Then take my advice, stay the hell away from him, and that company, too."

"What did he even do—"

"Olivia," Soldier Boy said coldly, appearing at your side unexpectedly. "Surprised the place made an exception to its 'no hag' policy for you."

You nearly gasped. Olivia Yearly was a star. A goddess. An institution. Definitely not a—

"Hag? Who the hell do you think you're talking to you fucking—"

"Just shove it, Liv."

"You're digging your damn grave if you stick around the sorry likes of him," she shot at you before storming off.

He scowled, moving so he blocked her retreating figure from your line of sight. "Whatever that bitch told you about me—she's gonna be old news as soon as they see you on that screen. That’s why she's trying to scare you."

"Do you really think so?" you asked, trying to ignore the doubt that crept up on you.

"She sure as hell couldn't kiss like you can."

As if to prove it, he leaned in, his plush lips pressed against yours, the same sparks you felt on set flying between you. His hands on your hips, soft and strong as he pulled you closer, something like that couldn't be faked, not so naturally as the two of you seemed to do. Almost couldn't help but lose yourself in his embrace—until a camera flashed in your peripheral vision, tearing you from the intimacy of the kiss and reminding you that you were only there with him for publicity. You wondered if it could ever be anything more.

Taglist: @waynes-multiverse @youdontknowe @sl33pylilbunny @ladykitana90 @urmomissuperhotsworld @riah1606

[notlongtolove]

thanks to the light you shower

it flashed a muted grey, understated but stark as ever in the dim of your living room—blocked. you stared at it, blinking like it might change with every refresh. it never did. you thought, maybe you should’ve seen that coming, too. if she can leave—what’s to stop spencer from walking away too? what’s keeping him here?

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: angst, hurt comfort

content: based on this ask! reader spirals during a friendship breakup and spencer is there to comfort and reassure her tldr spencer reid best bf ever agenda lives on

word count: 3.3k

note: thank you sm for requesting, i hope you like it! also thank you to the ever so lovely @angellic4l and @floraisunwell for helping me proof read this !! <3 was feeling RUSTYYYY i didnt mean to format it like this but i came across a lovely little poem that i loved and hopefully you like it too!

a line: Nostalgia might make a good glue, holding the cracks together when things get shaky, but it’s never to be used as a foundation.

My notebook has remained blank for months thanks to the light you shower around me. I have no use for my pen, which lies languorously without grief. - ha jin

You hadn’t seen it coming.

Well, maybe you did. Lesser texts, lesser calls. Shorter silences that stretched and grew into no texts, no calls, nothing. You should have seen it coming.

What you hadn’t expected was the notification. It flashed a muted grey, understated but stark as ever in the dim of your living room—Blocked. You stared at it, blinking like it might change with every refresh. It never did. You thought, maybe you should’ve seen that coming, too.

You live in a house of cards, its edges delicately balanced with relics and routines you’ve spent years upholding—But houses of cards aren’t built to last. Nostalgia might make a good glue, holding the cracks together when things get shaky, but it’s never to be used as a foundation. 

You hadn’t planned for it to end like this. You’d planned for something else entirely. You’d thought through the steps before the call, rehearsed the words—openings, explanations, apologies, questions. Hi. Hello. I know it’s been a while. Did you forget about today? I waited. It’s okay; I didn’t mind waiting. You’d planned for every possible response, every tangent of the conversation. You’d even practised sharing the updates you were sure she’d care to hear. The call had been brief at best. Few words exchanged, each one clipped and hurtful nonetheless. You don’t make time anymore. You never make time. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not in the slightest. There was the trip you’d booked together five months ago. She’d said the tickets were refundable on the call, her words were painfully unbothered even then. The email with the refund had been the last thing she sent you. 

You’ve changed. Have you really? You’d wondered for hours afterwards. She said you did. Now, you’re starting to believe her.

You don’t hear Spencer come in. Don’t register the sound of his keys clinking against the counter or the soft thud of his bag hitting the floor. He’s standing there in the doorway for a moment, watching you sink deeper into the couch. Normally, you’d already be burying your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the familiar warmth of his hands sliding around you—But not today.

Today, you don’t move. So, he does.

It’s clear something is wrong, he just doesn't know what. Quietly and carefully, he sets aside the book you’d abandoned onto the coffee table and then slides onto the couch beside you. His arms find their way around you like they always do—one hand threading through your hair, the other drawing slow circles on your thigh.

You surprise the both of you by speaking first. “She cancelled the trip,” you say dryly, eyes unmoving from the hardwood floor even when he nuzzles his face into your hair. 

“Something came up?” Spencer asks innocently. 

You shake your head. “Just cancelled it,” you reply, flat and matter-of-fact. 

He starts to say something, but you cut him off. “She blocked me.”

That lands heavier than the rest. You feel Spencer still beside you, his hand pausing mid-circle on your thigh. For all the ways Spencer always seems to know what to say and how to say it, you know he doesn’t have an answer for this. 

She’s been in your life longer than he has. Perhaps the one person who knows you as well as Spencer, maybe even better than yourself. He knows this, too. Spencer’s never had someone like that, other than you, other than the team. He’s spent too many years with his nose buried in books, his childhood built on facts and pages instead of people. But he’s learned and seen enough from everyone around him to know what it means to lose someone like that. 

Spencer can hypothesise the reasons. He’s good at that, good at putting pieces together, even the ones you try to keep from him. The distance had started long before the trip was planned—your recent promotion, longer nights at the office instead of out with her. Unanswered texts, missed calls. Spencer’s schedule didn’t help, his half-weeks spent in other cities. The move to his place had made sense at the time, it had seemed like the obvious next step. She’d been happy for you then, encouraged you to be closer to him. But “closer to him” had also meant “further from her.”

It had seemed like a fair trade at the time. Necessary.

Spencer presses his face into your hair, giving your hand a light squeeze. “I’m sorry,” he says finally. It’s so simple, so achingly gentle.

It’s much too nice, much too kind. You can’t bring yourself to start rebuilding your little house of cards. The cards lay untouched, scattered around you in a meek, pathetic, little pile. 

You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him. 

The couch creaks softly as you stand, letting Spencer’s hand fall away from yours as you move slowly towards your kitchen. As much as things had changed when Spencer entered your life, you could never put this on him. You know him, love him too much for that. “Don’t be,” you say thinly, “It’s not your fault.”

You didn’t call. You missed her party at that one club she was always raving about. You stopped showing up for drinks. You did this.

“It’s not yours either,” comes Spencer’s reply.

The sigh that escapes your lips is shaky and shuddering. Exhaustion weighs it down, and Spencer doesn’t need to look at you to know tears are already streaking your face.

“You don’t know that. You didn’t hear her, Spence. You didn’t hear the way she was talking. It was—god, I was horrible,” you whisper, your voice barely steady. “Do you know I missed her birthday?”

“Sweetheart, you were working on a brief,” he says, like it’s supposed to absolve you of any guilt. “Even I barely saw you that week. It wasn’t your fault.”

You shake your head, your breath catching on a bitter laugh. “No, Spencer. I didn’t just miss the party—I missed everything.” You’re pacing now, as much as the small kitchen allows. When that proves too constricting, you stop, gripping the edge of the counter. Your eyes bore holes into the granite surface. “I called her at three. Three in the morning. Do you get how ridiculous that is? I’ve always been the first to call her. Always. And this year, I didn’t even remember until it was already over.” 

Your gaze trails upward to the small window above the sink where a framed caricature rests—a silly, exaggerated version of you and Spencer, drawn at some carnival she went to last year. She gave it to you for Christmas. It’s hard to think that you'll never receive another one from her. Birthdays, Christmases—she’d always said she’d be the one in charge of your “something old” on your wedding day.

You don’t even realise Spencer’s left the couch until you hear the gentle clink of a cup being set down on the counter beside you. You know he’s making tea—chamomile, with a dash of milk. Just the way you like it. Spencer steps closer, stopping just short of your space, giving you some room. 

“And you know what the worst part was? When I finally called, she just... she didn’t even sound angry. Just tired. Like she was expecting it. At first, I thought she was sad, or mad, or—I don’t know. Something. But she didn’t even bother to show up today.”

“She didn’t show up?” Spencer asks quietly as he reaches for the milk in the fridge. 

You shake your head slowly, your shoulders sagging just a little more. 

Spencer tries to keep his disappointment at bay seeing as his suggestion to meet her in person had been a hopeful one, born from his belief that face-to-face conversations could convey things that text messages or calls couldn’t. After all, studies showed that emotional confrontations were better handled in person—fewer misunderstandings, more connection.

It’s why he despises technology, why he once made the 45-minute drive back to your apartment after your sixth date, just so he could tell you he loved you in person. He’d thought the same principle would apply here, that sitting across from her over coffee might bring back some clarity or some form of resolution. That it could help mend something. But the thought of you sitting alone in a café, waiting for someone who never showed, splinters his heart.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

The tenderness in his voice threatens to undo you entirely. The tea sits untouched as you sink to the floor, your back pressed against the cool cabinets of the kitchen. You hear Spencer move, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pull you up, fuss about how the kitchen floor is no place to sit—how it’s probably crawling with bacteria and god-knows-what-else. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he lowers himself to sit cross-legged in front of you. “I’m sorry honey, you didn’t deserve that,” he says softly as he reaches out gently to brush away a stray tear from your cheek. 

And because he’s Spencer, he knows you well enough to sense when you’re drowning in your own spiral, battering yourself with equal parts blame and self-doubt. So, he leans in just slightly, adding, “You’re not horrible, sweetheart. You’re human. Everybody forgets things sometimes. Even birthdays.” The cup of tea scrapes lightly against the tiled floor as Spencer nudges it closer to your thigh. He pauses, offering a small smile. “The team forgot mine last year.” 

“I don’t think that makes it any better, Spence.” He tilts his head, considering. “It doesn’t,” he agrees, “But it doesn’t make you horrible either. I know you care, you care more than most people do. That’s not nothing.”

“Do you think I’ve changed?”

“How so?” 

“I don’t know,” you murmur, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. “I’ve never missed her birthday. Ever. I don't do that. I never thought this would happen. Like, we used to talk about the kinds of houses we’d get when we were kids. We always said we’d live next door to each other with one of those gardens that connected, with those big bay windows to read by. And now she’s just... gone?” you huff a sharp laugh. “How the hell does that work?”

Rebuilding your house of cards means reshuffling your deck entirely—creating a new order, moving forward with new people and leaving some others behind. You’re not sure if you have it in you to learn new rules for a game you’d grown so comfortable playing a certain way.

“It’s normal for things to change as we grow up,” Spencer says again gently. “It doesn’t mean what you had wasn’t real or important.”

“I know that Spencer, I know things change. I know people change. But I don’t—” You pause, shaking your head. “I didn’t think I changed.” You know you’re being short with Spencer, snappy even, but you can’t help it. All certainty feels like it’s crumbled beneath you, your sense of normalcy torn apart. 

Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. If she can leave—What’s to stop Spencer from walking away too? What’s keeping him here? 

Certainly not the way you’re curling into yourself now, your knees drawn up, arms hugging them tightly. The tea sits forgotten beside you, it's steam curling into the air. Spencer’s kindness lingers around you but you can't bring yourself to hold on to any bit of it. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that even that will disappear if you even try to reach for it.

“I don’t like change.” You can hear the petulance in your voice, the way it makes you sound like a child begging for time to stop. You can almost picture yourself, small and desperate, hands outstretched to hold the world still for just a moment longer. 

“In a way, she’s not wrong,” Spencer says softly, breaking the silence, “I think you’ve changed. I think deep down, you know that too.”

You look up at him sharply, blinking through teary lashes. You wonder if he means it as an accusation.

“I just don’t think it’s a bad thing,” he adds gently.

Your voice is bitter when you finally speak. “I don’t see how it isn’t.”

Spencer hums thoughtfully as he reaches out, taking your hand in his. Slowly, he coaxes you closer, guiding you to sit in his lap. You resist for a second but his patience doesn’t falter. So, eventually, you let yourself be pulled in, resting against his chest.

“Well, you got that job you wanted,” he starts. “And the promotion you worked so hard for,” he adds after a moment.

You huff, the sound half a laugh and half a sob. “That doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a job.”

“It’s not just a job,” he counters, his hand stroking along your back. “It’s something you wanted. Something you earned.”

Your head shakes against his chest, your cheek brushing the soft fabric of his shirt. “Yeah, but at what cost? I messed everything else up. I got so busy, and I started—”

“You got busy because you were doing something you loved,” he interrupts softly, grounding you before the spiral takes hold again. “And I know it’s hard to see it like that right now, but it made you happy. You know over 65% of working adults report feeling disengaged with their jobs? But you found something you care about, and yeah, it made life busier, but it made you happier too. That’s more than just a great thing—that’s amazing.”

“I guess,” you mumble, sniffling into his shirt. 

“I’m just saying,” Spencer continues patiently. “Change is an enigma. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad. But there’s always a reason for change.”

“Bad reasons,” you mutter, almost under your breath.

“Not always,” Spencer says softly. “Change is growth.”

“Will you tell me? If I’m changing too much?” you ask quietly after a beat of silence. “It’s not that I don’t want to grow but… I just don’t want us to grow… apart.”

Spencer leans forward, his forehead brushing lightly against yours. “Sweetheart, I’m in love with you. I don’t think there’s a version of you I wouldn’t love.”

“What if I work too much?” you ask, tilting your head.

“I’d send a SWAT team to shut down your office.” A small smile breaks through and for a fleeting moment, you actually consider whether he could pull it off. Knowing Spencer? He probably could.

“And if I forget your birthday?” 

“I’d remind you by celebrating it for an entire week,” he grins. “But you’d never forget. You’re too thoughtful for that.”

“What if I’m not, though?” you press again, not entirely convinced. “What if I forget things, or miss out important stuff, and you’ll get sad or mad at me and—”

Spencer’s expression softens further, his hand reaching to cradle your cheek. “You will change,” he says calmly. “And I’ll change. That’s inevitable. And yeah, maybe I’ll get sad or mad one day—” 

“You got mad this morning,” you point out quietly.

Spencer’s lips twitch in a knowing smile. “You were mad at me first,” he counters.

“You didn’t kiss me goodbye,” you grumble.

“I did!” he insists, chuckling softly. “You were asleep, and I kissed you on the forehead. Twice, actually. And regardless, honey, I love you because you’re you. And you’re not going anywhere—not if I have any say in it. We’ll both change. We’ll grow together, and I promise that every version of me will love every version of you. I don’t think that will ever change.”

“You loved me even when I spilt scalding hot cocoa on your cashmere sweater on our first date?”

“I think I fell in love with you then,” Spencer says without hesitation, his smile mirroring your own. “Lots of things change, honey,” he continues, “Like how we’re getting a cat next week. You wouldn’t have been able to do that at your old apartment.”

You can’t help the small smile that pulls at your lips. Spencer’s never been an “animal person” outside of his fish—which he hadn’t even bothered naming until you came along. But getting him on board with a cat had been surprisingly easy. Even if you’d asked for a zoo, Spencer’s fairly certain he would’ve found a way to make it work just because you’re you. 

“Stupid apartment manager,” you grumble. 

“Stupid apartment manager,” Spencer echoes with mock solemnity. His lips twitch in a small smile. “And now all I have to worry about is my stupid hardwood floors.”

“We’ll train him,” you say with a smile of your own.

“Who’s we?” Spencer counters, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, swatting at his leg.

“Ow,” he says, the mock pain exaggerated as he rubs his knee. “See, I got shot in the leg. That’s change too.”

You scoff lightly. “Oh, and that’s supposed to be good change?” You ask, unimpressed.

Spencer leans back, his expression earnest. “If I hadn’t gotten shot in the leg, I wouldn’t have met you.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “That happened a year before we even met.”

“I got shot in the leg, which slowed down the speed I walked for a good year and a half. If I hadn’t been limping a little slower, I might’ve caught an earlier train or missed yours entirely. It’s a classic chaos theory example. Even the smallest variables can lead to the most significant outcomes. And I’d say meeting you was a pretty significant outcome.”

You roll your eyes, but this time a genuine laugh escapes you. The deck of cards may change, your house of cards may collapse every now and then and a reshuffle might be needed. But one thing always remains untouched in every game of cards: The Joker.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re perfect,” he counters, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

If there’s one thing you can always count on, it’s Spencer—Ever ready with his with his matter-of-fact tone and  Spencer-brand wit to coax a laugh out of you whenever you need it most.

Spencer, being Spencer, is right. Time passes, people change, and you have to trudge along with it—even as your fragile paper cards fall to the floor around you. There’s good change, there’s bad change, and sometimes there’s no change at all. 

Like how, now, even when you’re already smiling, laughter escaping your lips in small bursts, you still sit together on the kitchen floor talking for a little while longer, hands intertwined, cold tea by your side and all. 

When the cat arrives a week later, and his unexpected potty spot behind your fig plant by Spencer’s bookshelf is only discovered two days later? Bad change. Very very bad change.

When you finally get the cat fully potty trained and, three weeks later, track down a new version of The Iliad for Spencer with help from Penelope—a first edition, no less, despite his second edition being beloved? Good change. Great change even.

And when Spencer gets down on one knee 18 weeks later, right there by the same station where you first met, his knee now fully healed and you no longer rushing for a train? That’s perhaps the best kind of change.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments or reblogs are very much appreciated!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: when you love someone by day6 (first kpop song rec hell yeah) a frame by jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler

[aphroditelovesu]

Hiya! Hope ya don’t mind me dropping in on your inbox, I’m craving some angst currently so I was hoping you could write Yandere Finnick Odair with a darling that’s pregnant with his child and what goes on through his mind during the 74th hunger games. I wonder how it would affect how the games would go since I feel since he would be a yandere and darling is pregnant that he would prioritize her over everyone else

(author did him dirty when they killed him and he never knew she was pregnant😭😭)

❝ 🏹 — lady l: I focused more on what he feels and since it's been a while since I've done this, I hope it turned out okay. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! Also, he's more of a soft yandere for his darling 💚 he's hate is for the others! :)

❝tw: angst, slight canon divergence, mention of pregnancy (but it doesn't really show).

❝🏹pairing: soft yandere!finnick odair x female!reader.

❝word count: 1,128.

When you announced your pregnancy, Finnick felt for the first time what it meant to be completely overcome by the purest happiness. Well, maybe it was the second time, because he had already felt something like that the moment he met you. In that moment, when your eyes met for the first time, he knew that his life would never be the same again. But the true explosion of happiness came when you accepted being his, when you made it clear that you shared the same deep and unshakable love that he felt for you.

For Finnick, you were more than the woman he loved; you were the center of his universe, the reason why he could endure the horrors that the world had imposed on him. And now, with the news of the arrival of a baby, everything seemed to finally make sense. That little being growing inside you was living proof of the love between the two of you, a piece of both of you, inseparable and eternal. For him, the baby was not just a symbol, but the confirmation that you were completely his — and he, yours, in every possible way.

Finnick knew, at that moment, that he would protect you both with everything he had. You were his reason for living, his happiness, and nothing in the world could change that.

But then, the Hunger Games ripped him away from you, like a storm that destroys everything that is precious. He was separated from his growing family, forced to leave behind the dream of a peaceful future by your side and the hope of being present at every moment of the baby's arrival. The cruel and relentless duty imposed by the Capitol took him away from everything he loved most, and the weight of this separation was almost unbearable.

Finnick knew that every second away from you and the baby was a second stolen from a happiness he might never be able to recover. He left with a broken heart, taking with him the image of your smile and the promise that he would do whatever it took to return to you. Even if the Games were relentless, even if the Capitol tried to destroy him in every way, he would fight with all his strength to survive and return to the family that was waiting for him.

In the arena, every step, every strike, every strategy was not just for survival. It was for you. It was for the baby. It was for the promise of a future that he refused to give up. The only way he'll give up on you, on your child, is if he dies.

But Finnick couldn't focus on what he was supposed to do. How could he? You were on his mind all the time. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the arena, his mind always kept returning to you and the baby. His heart felt torn between two worlds: the brutal chaos of the Games and the home he dreamed of building with you. His soul, his very essence, was with you. He felt like he was living a nightmare, unable to protect the two people he loved most.

He desperately needed to make sure nothing bad would come to you. The thought that the Capitol might use you or the baby against him tormented him at every moment. But in this situation, he was powerless. Trapped in the arena, surrounded by enemies and manipulated by forces much greater than himself, Finnick felt useless. He, who had always been strong, fast, skilled, was now completely at the mercy of fate — and it was destroying him inside.

He remembered the moment he swore to protect you for the rest of his life, the silent words that carried the promise that nothing would ever harm you as long as he was by your side. And now, here he was, unable to fulfill that oath. The weight of that helplessness crushed his spirit, but at the same time, it fueled a fire inside him. Even though the odds were slim, he knew he had to survive. Not for himself, but for you. For you and the baby. He would fight, even if he was broken, because giving up would never be an option.

And he was broken without you.

Anguish gnawed at Finnick like a cold, relentless blade. Every second in the arena felt like an eternity, every heavy breath a cruel reminder of his distance from you. He saw himself surrounded by enemies, but none of them were as threatening as the thoughts that haunted him. What if something happened to you? What if the Capitol decided to hurt you as a form of punishment? What if he could never again hold your hand, hear your voice, or meet the baby that was part of him, part of both of you?

These questions consumed him, making it impossible to focus on anything but his fear and guilt. Finnick had always been a survivor, a fighter, but now he felt weak, broken in a way that even the original Games had failed to do. He was a man divided, struggling to maintain the appearance of strength while inside, everything was falling apart.

He relived the moments with you over and over in his mind, as if he could cling to them to keep from succumbing. The first time you smiled at him, the feel of your fingers intertwined with his, the night you told him about the baby. He remembered the sparkle in your eyes, the hope you shared in that moment. And now? Everything seemed so distant, so fragile.

He hated himself for being here, for not being by your side, where he should be. Finnick had always believed that his strength lay in protecting those he loved, but now he felt helpless, unable to fulfill the most important promise of his life. The guilt was suffocating, a weight that made him question his own usefulness. How could he be the man you needed, the father the baby deserved, if he couldn’t even be there?

Yet, amidst the despair, there was a spark of determination. He knew he couldn’t give up, no matter how much he was hurting. He had to survive, he had to get back to you and the baby. Because even if everything seemed lost, the love he felt for you both was the only thing keeping him going. And he would hold on to that with all the strength he had left.

And he would get back to you, to your baby. The only way he would give up was if he died, and Finnick was determined to survive, no matter what.

You, your baby, were worth any cost.

[fee224]

Love calls from miles away

Bf!rafe x overlooked!reader

MASTERLIST

Rafe had left to Morocco with promises you presumed were hollow. Your mind tended to go to the pessimist dark room and stay there. The night he left, you half convinced yourself there was no work trip, this was his way of tapping out and you’d probably see him at the club the following day.

After crying yourself to sleep under the comfort of your own warm duvet, you were surprised to be woken by your phone singing rather than your fluffy alarm clock.

The contact name sent a warm tingle through your stomach as you accepted the call. “Rafe?” You gulped.

“Hey baby, I just landed, thought I’d ring to let you know” his voice was tired too and you quickly wiped the sleep out of your eyes to lean against your headboard. “You’re there? Is it nice rafe?” You whispered, desperate not to wake the mutt at the end of your bed.

“Sure, Little hotter than the obx but we’ll adjust hey? Shit I didn’t even think of the obx, what time is it over there?”

“Eh nine o clock, I’m just watching a movie” you lied, coughing the sleepiness out of your throat, you wanted to keep talking to your boyfriend.

“Yeah? What movie?” He asked patiently, clearly not calling for a reason as you smiled distracted by his deep voice. “Ah legally blonde, trying to get in a study mood for when college starts” you spoke softly, calmly and slowly. The silence comforting, and rafes breathing soothing you.

“Legally blonde” he ticked his tongue, attempting to make conversation about the movie he’s never heard of. “Cute?” He shook his head to himself as you giggled.

“You wanna see this place we are staying, place is a fucking palace” your feet intertwined underneath the sheets, listening intently about the interior design of said palace.

“I thought ward would be that type of dad, to buy super big palaces as a place to stay” you mused from the other line as he hummed, not burdening you with what exactly he had to deal with in terms of ward, talking about him as a man focussed on business and priorities, which wasn’t a lie.

The phone call ended twenty minutes later with rafe needing a shower before dinner reservations. The next call came a day later, day one being filled with texts, day two came with a FaceTime.

You were sitting at your vanity, applying expensive skin care when the call came and you placed it against your mirror.

It must have been late for him because he was in bed, darkness filling most of his room, as he laid shirtless against the wooden headboard.

He made a conscious effort not to mention your small pink silk crop top that made your nipples exposed, and every time you would lean across the desk, he was gifted with a pretty view. He hoped the darkness in his room would help hide the fact he was staring.

“And this one is a glazing milk, I’m pretty sure this is what makes my skin so soft, my face skin of course because on my body skin I just use moisturising lotion” you rolled your eyes at yourself, still rambling as you poured the liquid into your hands.

“Yeah? What’s next baby?” He sounded out of breath, and his panting made your head snap to the camera, just to be met with his unclear face.

“Hmm” you rummaged around your drawer “this! It’s like a lip mask, for while I do the rest of my make up, then I’ll take it off and my lips will be soft” you show it to the camera.

“Mmmhm” his camera was shaky and you scratched your head watching him

“rafe i cant really see you”

“That’s okay, I can see you” he stifled as you poured, accepting his answer and applying the strawberry lip mask, sniffing the fragrance while you did.

You were the one that had to hang up this time, and not because you had to change into your dress, because he insisted you could do it on camera, but when your mother yelled from downstairs that the car was leaving in two minutes for brunch, you scrambled down.

The third call came on Sunday, the day before he was back. You were missing rafe the most this day. You had just got back from walking Simmons at his favourite beach, and you were making chocolate cupcakes for rafe when he got back tomorrow.

“Hi rafe” you smiled wide, placing him against the wall while mixing the batter in your favourite pink baking bowl. You couldn’t make out the background, just his pretty tanned face, and his navy blue polo.

“Sweetheart” he mused happily. His hand coming behind his head, rubbing his hair as you smiled back. The pair of you staring at each other wordlessly, endearingly.

“Are you baking?” His eyes shifted from your face to the ingredients sprawled across the counter, and the batter on your cheek.

“Mhm” you answered with an exaggerated nod and smug smile. Teasing was something anybody rarely saw, but it was one of rafes favourite trait of yours, the way you’d giggle at his fake begging, shaking your head so cutely.

“You gonna tell me?” He smiled knowingly as you stirred with your spatula, focussed on the base.

You smiled softly at the camera “uh uh” you snorted putting the mixture down to go find cupcake cases. “It’s a surprise rafe! Ever heard of one” you rolled your eyes, which he chuckled at, amused by what your idea of banter entailed. Entertained by anything that came out of your silly mouth.

“When do I get my surprise” he set you down on the coffee table, leaning back to cross his arms and manspread as you stared at him complacently. “Hmm” you responded clearly distracted by the camera.

“You there baby?” He chuckled at camera as you nodded dumbly.

“I miss you rafe”

“Miss you too sweets” his smile dropped, replaced by something more tender as you quickly made a silly excuse about the oven, before hanging up to quickly rush to the bathroom and wipe your tears.

You clicked your phone open to see a small message

One more sleep xx

- fee xxx

[my5ticvyv]

I'll Always be Here With You.

Rafayel x GN!Reader, Xavier x GN!Reader (seperate)

!CW! - Comfort, Intimacy (cuddling, kisses, hugging), Reader is an overthinker, Reader, Xavier x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, GN!Reader, Endearments/Pet Name (my darling/darling, my dear/dear, my love/love, sweetheart). Let me know if I missed anything else!

Description - Reader is having a bad day, returning home and crying. With S/O noticing Reader crying, S/O does his best to comfort Reader!

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۶ৎRafayel۶ৎ

You entered his house, gently shutting the door behind you. You sniffle softly, taking your shoes off and heading to the bathroom to clean up. It had been a long day. Your mother was scolding you because you hadn't gotten full points on a test. It wasn't long until your boyfriend, Rafayel, knocked on the bathroom's door.

"My love?..." he softly calls out to you, hoping you'd open the door and tell him what was wrong. Normally, you'd greet him the second you return home before doing anything else. So, something had to be wrong. "Please, (Reader), talk to me."

Reluctantly, you open the door, revealing your tear stained face. He was right. You were crying. He gently extends his arms out to you, offering you a hug. You let him embrace you, and you sob into his shoulder.

"You're hurting.. please, tell me what's wrong. If not now, then later?" he pulls back just the slightest, cupping your face gently. He wipes your tears away, leading you to the bedroom and sitting you down on the bed. He brings you a change of clothes for the night, helping you change into them.

"I-I've.. I had a bad day.." you mutter, trying not to cry again. "I'm.. my mother got mad at me for not scoring 100% on a test..." you mutter. "She said that because of that I'm a disappointment... I'm so tired of trying to be what she wants me to be, college is stressful enough.. I'm so tired of her wanting me to be perfect..." you sob.

"Oh, sweetheart..." his gaze softens, and he hugs you tighter, "It's not your fault, okay?.. You don't need her to be perfect. You're perfect just the way you are.." he kissed your lips softly. "If you do not mind me asking.. what'd you score?" he asks, but not pushingly.

"...96%.. I got one question wrong.." you mutter out, wiping your tears away, slowly trying to calm down.

"That's still good, you still passed." he cups your face. "Now.. you feeling better?" he strokes your cheeks, lovingly. You nod in response, and he smiles softly. "Good.. You must be tired.." he pulls you down on top of him. "How about we cuddle?" he offers gently.

"Okay.. that'd make me feel better..." you smile back at him cuddling close to him. "Thank you, Rafayel.. I love you..."

"I love you, too. Goodnight, my dear." he says sweetly.

(WC - 405)

۶ৎXavier۶ৎ

You sighed, entering the apartment, only to be met with a sleeping Xavier. Of course, that's to be expected. You were just glad he wouldn't see how upset you were. Your day was rough, and it was just too overwhelming for you. You had gone out, and of course, being a hunter is no easy task. You sustained some injuries, though nothing too bad.

You headed into the bedroom to clean yourself up, you were facing the window, so you didn't see the door open, nor did you hear it. Xavier walks up to you, drowsily.

"Darling?.. You're injured.. why didn't you wake me?..." he asks softly, his voice startling you just slightly. He takes the bandages from your hand, and helping to tend to your injuries. "Didn't want to worry me?..." he mutters out.

"..No. I.. I didn't want to wake you. You looked so peaceful." you say in response, letting him tend to you without fussing. Xavier shakes his head at your response, smiling softly. He looks up at you.

"That's the least of my worries. You, however..." he sighs, finishing up. He puts everything away. "You must be hungry." he says. Leading your into the kitchen, he sits you down before heating up some food he had made. "Here.. eat up." he says, silently watching you as you eat.

"...Stop watching me, weirdo." you huff, embarrassed. He chuckles softly, kissing your forehead as an apology. "..Thank you, by the way..." you utter out, leaning into him.

"Of course, my love. It's my pleasure to help my sweetheart." he smiles at you, "Though.. You need to be more careful, okay? I know you're strong, and I do not doubt your abilities. But I do worry for you."

"I'll be more careful.. I appreciate your concern, Xavier." you sigh. After you finished eating, the both of you headed to the living room and settling down on the couch, cuddling each one another.

"I.. love you, (Reader)." he says earnestly, "You mean a lot to me. So please, when you're injured, come to me?" he requests softly, his face buried into your hair.

"I will, and I love you, too." you smile, kissing his jaw.

(WC - 365)

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[clappingandcheering]

(Percy Jackson x reader)

Shiny like the ocean

Warnings: None! Super cute story about you and Percy wanting to be parents and then becoming parents. Lmk if you want another part with the baby making, but I'm like a fresh writer, so I didn't want that to be my first impression!

"You know," Percy began, his voice casual but with that unmistakable gleam in his eyes. "I've been thinking."

You glanced up from the book you were reading, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? This should be good," you teased, half-smiling, knowing full well that when Percy Jackson got that look, you were in for something unexpected.

Percy's grin widened, clearly pleased with your response. "What do you think about having a kid?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you suddenly found your fingers twirling absentmindedly around the edge of the book. "A kid?" you echoed, trying to sound nonchalant, but the truth was, you weren't sure how to respond. You'd always imagined this kind of conversation would come up eventually—but now that it had, it felt like your words were stuck somewhere deep inside.

Percy, sensing your hesitation, leant forward on the couch, his voice softening. "I know we’ve talked about it before, but... I just really think we’d be great parents." He was already smiling that goofy, hopeful grin, the one you couldn’t resist even if you tried. "We’d make an awesome team, you know?"

You could feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks as you looked anywhere but at him. The idea of having a child, a little one to take care of, to love... It was terrifying and exciting all at once. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that kind of responsibility, but Percy was always so sure about things, and it made you want to believe it too.

“I mean, I guess we could..." you mumbled, your voice small and shy. “It’s just… I don’t know.”

Percy raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What, you scared of a little diaper duty?”

You snorted despite yourself. “You’d be the one doing all the work, huh?”

“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “But honestly, I think we could do it. And if we mess up, we’ll just blame it on the gods.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Always the Greek way.”

Percy laughed, and before you could think of a more serious response, he leant over and kissed you on the cheek. “No pressure. Just something to think about.”

But as he pulled away, there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart swell. You weren’t quite sure what to think yet, but when it came to Percy Jackson, sometimes the best things in life came when you least expected them.

Three years later...

You woke to the soft sound of giggles echoing down the hallway. A small hand tugged at your arm, pulling you out of your sleepy haze.

"Mum! Dad’s making pancakes again!" the little voice squealed.

You blinked, your mind struggling to fully wake up, but when you opened your eyes, you saw the tiny form of your son standing at the foot of your bed, his curly hair sticking out in all directions like a cute little mess. He was wearing his favourite Captain America pyjama shirt, the one Percy had picked out for him because it "matched his heroic spirit." The little boy grinned at you, his eyes wide and full of excitement.

"Did you sleep okay, buddy?" You asked, sitting up, your heart warming at the sight of him.

"Yeah!" he said, bouncing on his heels. "Dad said we’re having chocolate chips in the pancakes today. And we’re going to the park afterwards! Can we go, Mum? Can we?"

You smiled sleepily, brushing your hair out of your face. The house was quiet except for the soft noises of Percy in the kitchen and the sound of laughter spilling out from there.

“Give me a second, okay?” You said, ruffling your son’s messy curls. "I’ll be right down."

As your son hurried off to the kitchen, you let yourself take a moment. You could hear Percy’s voice, light and cheerful, as he worked at the stove. The warmth of the moment settled over you—this was your family now. The little boy who had come into your life and changed everything, who was both a reminder of the love you and Percy shared and a miracle of your own making.

You felt a soft tug in your chest. It was hard to remember what life was like before him, before you’d taken that leap, before you and Percy had gone from shy, unsure newlyweds to confident, exhausted—but incredibly happy—parents.

Downstairs, Percy was flipping pancakes with the same easy confidence he'd had all those years ago. The three of you—together, imperfectly perfect—sounded like a family now.

As you made your way into the kitchen, your son immediately ran over to you, his arms wide. “Mum! Look!” He showed you his tiny pile of pancakes, adorned with a mountain of chocolate chips.

“You made all of that?” You asked, pretending to be impressed, though you knew who had done the bulk of the work.

Percy chuckled, tossing his flour-covered spatula into the sink. “Teamwork,” he said, winking at you. “He’s getting good at this.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your two favourite people, your hearts full. "I think he’s going to give you a run for your money in the kitchen soon."

“Good,” Percy said, scooping your son up and tossing him into the air, earning a burst of delighted laughter. "We’ll need all the help we can get."

And just like that, your heart melted. This little family of yours—it wasn’t perfect, but it was everything you’d ever wanted.

[hugmekenobi]

I Do

A Bad Batch Post S3 Oneshot

Gif by @barissoffee

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Your wedding day finally arrives

Playlist for inspo:

Warnings: Limited (Y/N), swearing, reader nickname of 'Spark' and 'sweetheart' is used, wedding traditions mentioned and applied, my interpretation of the Force, my limited wedding ceremony knowledge, references to past torture and death, vague references to alcohol/hangovers, limited wedding dress description, LOTS of fluff and feelings, I make up a mission plan, kissing, for the sake of the plot they can leave Pabu safely, SMUT (dirty talk and innuendo, marking, reader wears lingerie, light body worship with mentions of scars, use of a toy, teasing, brief edging, light marriage kink if that's a thing?, switch reader and Hunter, unprotected P in V but let's be safe irl please!) mildly bittersweet ending

<Previous Oneshot (not totally necessary to read but helpful for build up)

Masterlist for S1, S2 and S3

Word Count: 13.4K

Rating: 18+

Author's note: Well, the state of the world is concerning and pretty depressing rn but in a bizarre way, it acted as that final motivator to finally finish because I wanted to focus on something that brings me joy. So, with that, I hope everyone is doing okay and that this was worth the wait!

“How did it go?” Hunter asked as he entered your living room just as you finished your call with Jax.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with your brothers right now?” You asked instead.

“I convinced them to come get me later. How did it go?” He asked again, unwilling to let you change the subject so easily. 

You heaved a sigh and shrugged as you slouched against the couch and fidgeted with your ring. “Fine? I think? I don’t know, I feel like I’m just making this up as I go. I guided him through the ways meditation can help him if he starts to lose focus, or things feel out of control, but I have no idea if that’ll be helpful.”

“It sounds like good advice.” Hunter replied whilst he put his stuff down. 

You grunted, “I don’t know that it’s fair for me to preach the benefits of meditation when all I’ve done with it has come up with a whole lot of nothing.”

“Still nothing from your master since Christophsis?” Hunter asked sympathetically as he sat down beside you. 

You nodded dejectedly. “There’s just nothing there. I know that it was a long time ago and we had Tantiss to deal with, so I wasn’t as on top of it as I used to be, but I thought Christophsis opened some sort of door.” You breathed heavily and leaned against his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” 

“You’re awfully down for someone getting married in two days.” 

You snapped your head up and stared at the ghost ahead of you but also tugged on Hunter’s sleeve. “You’re seeing this too, right?” You double checked as you saw the face of your master staring at you with a smile on his face.

Hunter found himself going back into autopilot and his days as a soldier because he immediately stood to attention as he clocked the pale blue figure.

“At ease, Sergeant. No need for such formalities and with the war being over and me being dead, it’s not like I could write you up.” Your master said to the clone at your side. 

“I- um- right.” Hunter stammered because now he had no idea how he was supposed to act or behave when speaking to someone from the dead. Never mind the fact that this was your old Jedi Master. He relaxed his posture, but only slightly because he still had no clue what to make of this entire situation. 

“Hello, Spark.”

“That’s all you have to say?” You questioned the ghostly blue figure with a frown. 

“I believe that to still be the appropriate greeting.” 

“I don’t understand this. You can really show up that easily?”

“When the need arises, yes.”

You let out a laugh that was void of positive emotion. 

“I’m sensing some rising anger, Spark.”

“No shit!” You shouted in irritation. 

“Spark…” Your master said with a tired sigh. 

“I’ve been meditating for months, and you’ve been a no show all this time! I was taken prisoner and tortured and you weren’t any help!”  

“An awful feat to endure but you haven’t needed me. You relied on your training and sense of self; you didn’t need me there to bring you back.”

“I almost didn’t! I nearly gave up on Tantiss!”

“Dwelling on the almost helps no one, you did not and that’s the outcome that matters. If you had needed me, I would’ve provided my assistance but there’s never been an opportunity or requirement for that in the recent times.”

He sounded so unapologetically himself and like the master you’d studied under that you couldn’t help but let the initial anger you’d been feeling over this leave your body. “Hey, there was a perfect opportunity for you to show up a month ago! Technically, I died! A few times I might add!” You pointed out. 

“You sound a little too delighted by that.” Hunter grumbled.

“You were nowhere to be found!” You continued to be disgruntled. 

“Please, I know you’re far too stubborn to die at the hands of a bounty hunter.” Your master said dismissively.  

You gave up with a sigh, “So, why are you here now?” You asked instead since you realised you were going to get nowhere disputing the past with him. 

Your master nodded to Hunter. “I wanted to formally meet the man who pulled you away from your Jedi teachings.” He said sternly. 

Hunter’s eyes widened in distress. “I didn’t- it wasn’t- sir, I didn’t mean to-” He stuttered in a panic. 

“Surely you understand how encouraging such serious attachment from someone in her position is dangerous?”

Hunter couldn’t calm his ever-increasing alarm. A Force ghost appearing suddenly felt so small compared to what he was having to argue with said ghost about. “Sir, I’d never risk- I don’t- when we happened I-” He was scrambling to find anything that would reassure the man, but he was failing miserably. 

You shook your head in disapproval at your master who now had a rather pleased smile on his face, “Would you stop torturing him? Talking to Force ghosts is already hard enough for someone not used to it.” You gently pulled on Hunter’s hand, “My love, sit down.”

Hunter dazedly sat down beside you.

“And remember to breathe.” You prompted him quietly as you patted his knee before you glared at your master, “Are you done?”

Your master chuckled, “I couldn’t help myself, but yes, I am. Although I did want to meet you, Sergeant. I wanted to know more about you if you’re amenable to that?” 

“Y-yes, sir.” Hunter collected himself as he straightened his shoulders and awaited the questions. 

“You led a small squad during the war did you not? You and your brothers were made to be different from the other clones and battalions that existed during that time?” 

“That’s correct, sir.” 

“But you made a habit of deviating from standard protocols and orders? You never considered that to be a reckless course of action to take?”

Hunter sensed you getting ready to defend him, but he placed his hand on yours to signal that he was fine. “Yes, sir, but with respect, that’s why we were as successful as we were. Our unique skill sets made it that going against the usual procedures was better for us and the war effort.”

Your master nodded appreciatively over the honesty in the clone’s voice. “And you understand the added responsibility you’re taking on with having a Jedi in your life and as your partner? You are aware of the risks that will remain in place for you and your squad even with this home you’ve created?”

“I understand it, sir, but it never felt like extra responsibility to me. I look after my people the best I can, I always have, and she was a part of our squad and family long before my feelings developed into what they are now. Making the choice to stand by her despite the dangers it comes with was simple.”

“I see. And what about-”

“Okay, what is this?” You interrupted, “You’re dead, and I stopped being your student years ago. You don’t get to approve or disapprove-”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, Spark. The mere fact that you’ve been seeking that connection with the techniques I passed on shows that our relationship has not ended. And yes, I may have become one with the Force but that doesn’t mean I stopped being your teacher- dead or not, there’s always a lesson to be learnt. Something you should keep in mind since you’re on your way to becoming a teacher yourself.” 

You suddenly felt rather bashful as you heard the hint of pride in his voice, “I’m not really doing anything.”

“You’re doing far more than you realise and I’m not solely referring to those children you rescued. That young girl you’re raising is going to do great things.” Your master complimented you both.

“We know.” Hunter agreed. 

The soft change in Hunter’s voice and the fondness in which he said that and made your heart soar with affection. 

Your master smiled warmly as he saw the unfiltered emotion written across your face as you looked at the man by your side and he knew there was nothing dangerous or wrong about the feelings you had for him. He addressed Hunter once more, “I just have one last question…” 

Hunter braced himself. 

“Do you love her?”

Now that was something he could answer very easily. “Yes, I do.”

“Good.” Your master said with a nod of approval before he turned to face you again. “I wish you both a happy future and Spark, remember, you don’t need to see me to feel me with you.” Your master reminded you before he faded away.

“Spark?” Hunter asked with a curious look in your direction. 

“Do you want the embarrassing or the more emotional answer?” You replied lightly. 

But before Hunter could reply, Wrecker came barging through the door.

“Time’s up! Get moving!”

You caught the look of dread on Hunter’s face. “You’re going to have fun.” You said through a laugh as you both got to your feet. 

“Remind me why I can’t just stay here? Your plans for tonight sound relaxing.” Hunter pleaded jokingly. 

“Because we don’t want you here, Bandana.” Phee responded with mock seriousness, “This night is for us girls only. You’ve got your own thing.”

“Right, how could I forget.” He replied with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening.” Hunter promised you, hoping he slipped it subtly enough into the goodbyes that it would go unnoticed. 

You’re not that lucky. You said with a grin as you noticed Omega’s look of horror.

“Nu uh! Wedding tradition number three states that it’s bad luck to see the bride the day of the wedding so you can’t stay the night tomorrow!” Omega insisted as she yanked on Hunter’s arm to take her place next to you instead whilst Phee and Lyra pushed past the rest of the men to join you in the living room. 

Tech tapped on his datapad. “Yes, the schedule for the next two nights and two days sees to it that proceedings begin with Phee, Omega and Lyra staying here whilst we go to Shep’s to pick him up before leaving on Phee’s ship to-”

“Celebrate tonight! Recover tomorrow! Celebrate again!” Wrecker bellowed merrily. “It’s really not that complicated, Tech.” 

“Yet you still got confused the first time we were planning this.” Crosshair pointed out wryly as he chewed on a toothpick. 

“Not my fault! Shep brought out a plate of dessert when Tech was figuring out the days, I was distracted!” Wrecker said defensively but with a smile on his face. 

“I still don’t understand why you planned it this close to the actual ceremony.” Echo pointed out. 

“With those two wanting to hurry things along, our timeline got rather rushed.” Tech replied. 

“Sorry for not wanting to give the next bounty hunter another chance to ruin things.” You joked.

“Or an Imperial invasion.” Omega added.

“Or the chance for (Y/N) to get herself killed.” Crosshair piled on but his tone was laced with familial teasing as he looked at you.

“Hey!” You protested indignantly. “The more recent ones have not been my fault.��

“Crosshair…” Hunter scolded as he moved his way around Omega and instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“Thought I was helping.” He said with a nonchalant shrug. 

“Your definition of ‘help’ should be re-examined.” Tech interjected as he adjusted his goggles.  

“Well, point made anyway.” Echo acknowledged with a slight grimace.

“Great, now that that’s settled, let’s go!” Wrecker demanded again as he reached for Hunter. 

Hunter gave you one last desperate look. “You’re really forcing me to do this?” He feigned needing to be rescued as his brother pulled him into the group. 

“I’m not doing anything, you’re the one that let Tech give Omega the list of readings about all the different wedding traditions that exist in the galaxy.” You pointed out with a smirk as you warmly rested your hands on the young girl’s shoulders whilst she stood in front of you. 

“Yes! This is tradition number seven!” Omega said excitedly as she pulled up the various files that she’d pulled on the subject and recited, “Bachelor parties and bachelorette parties are iconic pre-wedding celebrations that mark the end of singledom for soon-to-be-weds.” She waved the datapad in Hunter’s direction. “You can’t argue with that.”

“No, I suppose I can’t.” Hunter replied through a sigh, but he wasn’t referring to the information as he smiled at the young girl.

“It’s not like spending time apart will kill you.” Lyra added absentmindedly as she got to work on unpacking the supplies for your night here. 

The room went silent as you all turned to stare at her. 

“Okay, that was a bad choice of words,” Lyra acknowledged sheepishly, “But you know what I mean!”

You chuckled before you noticed the impatient way Wrecker was bouncing on his heels. “Okay, time to go.” You ushered them out but caught Hunter’s wrist just as he was leaving. You went to kiss him but before he could help close the gap, Crosshair pulled on his arm. “If I’m going to throw up tonight, it’s going to be during the party, not before.” He said in faux disgust.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” Hunter conceded as he shoved Crosshair away in a brotherly fashion. “See you in two days?” He asked you by way of farewell.

“See you in two days.” You confirmed with a mildly nervous but excited smile. You waved them off before you shut the door and accepted the drink from Lyra as your lovely night of rest and relaxation got underway.

--

The sound of your comm chirping woke you up from your peaceful slumber.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.” You teased as you heard the pained rasp in his voice. 

“No, it’s not.” Hunter grumbled.

“You sound like a ball of energy.” You quipped and the only reply you got was a disgruntled huff and it made you smile to yourself. “Sooo, how was your night?”

“I haven’t celebrated like that since our days as a fresh squad during the war. I don’t know how we did it.” Hunter responded with a weary sigh. 

“And here I thought you were trying to be sensible.” You taunted. 

“Somewhere between Tech insisting that he could make Crosshair a hand and trying to steal Echo’s to prove it whilst Wrecker kept trying to get the bartender to give us free drinks by challenging him to an arm wrestle and Shep lamenting over what’ll happen when Lyana gets married, I gave up.” Hunter through a groan.

You laughed, “Kinda wish I’d been there to see that. But how are your senses holding up? Your headache isn’t too painful, is it?” You asked with more genuine concern.

“I’m fine, this is nothing too overwhelming, I’ll be okay in a few hours.” Hunter reassured you. 

“Promise?”

“I promise. I knew what I was doing last night.” 

“Okay, good. And you had fun?” You double checked.

“Yes, I did.” Hunter admitted. 

“Omega will be delighted by that. I think she enjoyed this part of the wedding planning quite a bit.”

“Your night was good too then?”

“It was a nice time! We just chatted and ate good food- it was all very calm and fun. We all turned in at a reasonable hour. Oh, and Omega finally got permission from Lyra to see my dress, so she was very excited by that.”

“Sure, Omega’s allowed to see it.” Hunter grumbled with light-hearted seriousness. “Remind me why we let this tradition slide through?”

“Because the argument about an ex-Jedi marrying a genetically enhanced clone being about as untraditional as we could get was hard to dispute so we’re making up for it where we can and keeping the reveal until the day of falls into that category according to Omega.”

“Right,” Hunter griped, “I should’ve fought harder.”

“You have one more 24 hour wait.” You reminded him with a loving but exasperated sigh. 

“It’s not been as easy as it sounds. You’ve been overly secretive and non-informative about it for weeks now. Having the answer to my curiosity tucked away in our closet and being banned by every single person from seeing it has been a challenge; you do realise that?”

“Yes, because I live to torture you.” You said, playing into his dramatics.

“I can feel your eyes rolling.”

“Look, in all fairness, Lyra only finally decided she was finished with it a week ago. And of all the wedding traditions we’re doing, this is one I kinda like keeping. Besides, you’re getting your first dance tradition which is the one part of this whole thing I’m dreading.” You said lightly. 

“Hmm, that’s true. And I hear marriage is all about compromise.” Hunter said playfully.

“Exactly. This is just good practice.” You replied jokingly.

Hunter chuckled softly over the comm, “Well, I can hear the pained groans of the others so they’re waking up now, so I better go. I love you.”

“I love you too. Safe flight back.” You signed off and breathed deeply as you realised that after today, the day you’d been waiting for was almost here. 

--

Time passed by in a blur and before you knew it, you were waking up with the nervous butterflies in your stomach that signalled what was happening at sunset today. 

You had barely opened your eyes when your door burst open, and a bundle of blonde hair and excitement joined by a ball of fur were jumping on your bed and clambering in next to you.

“It’s wedding day! It’s finally time!”

“Are you sure?” You double checked teasingly as you pretended to pull your covers back and over your head.

“Yes!” Omega tugged on them and insistently shoved your shoulder. “You need to get up!” She whistled to Batcher and pointed to you. 

“I’m up, I’m up.” You said through a laugh as you avoided Batcher’s enthusiastic kisses and got vertical. “But you can relax, Omega, we have ages.” 

“Not according to my schedule.” Omega propped herself on her knees as she revealed her datapad and showed it to you. 

You scanned the list as you absentmindedly stroked Batcher’s side. “Okay that all looks good but what is that?” You indicated to the words with your name and ‘panic’ written side by side.

“My research said it is highly likely that a ‘freak out’ will occur once the time of the ceremony arrives, no matter how sure your feelings are. I’m just leaving it in as an option.” She said casually. 

“I’m not going to freak out,” You insisted, “I’m perfectly fine.”

“For now…”

“Omega!” You gasped in faux offence. 

“And, now you know there’s time if or when you need to.” She replied with coy indifference. 

“Seems like you’ve got this all figured out.” You observed with a smile.

“Tech and I coordinated so he’s keeping Hunter on track,” She told you proudly, “And don’t worry, his panic time is longer than yours.” 

“Great.” You replied dryly. 

She clapped her hands together, “Now, you can have fifteen minutes to yourself while I go get breakfast started.”

“Alright, you’re in charge, Omega.” You said fondly as she tossed her arms around you and squeezed you tight before hopping off the bed to signal it was time for the preparations to get underway. 

--

“You’re getting married today!” Lyra squealed in delight as soon as you opened the door.

“So, everyone keeps telling me.” You kidded as you stepped aside to let her and Phee in. 

“Right on time.” Omega stated with a satisfied nod as she came out of her room. 

“Between you and brown eyes, it would be impossible not to be.” Phee commented with a smile. 

“You all look great!” You said warmly as you took them all in and your heart swelled as you saw Omega in particular. She was growing up every day before your very eyes and it was both terrifying but beautiful. 

“Hush, we are not the focus here. Come on, let’s get you ready!” Lyra started shoving you towards your bedroom.

--

“Oh, this turned out better than I imagined!” Lyra said with a misty-eyed smile, “Phee, Omega, get in here!” She called out as she dabbed away the tears and re-opened your bedroom door. 

“You look amazing!” Omega cried joyously. 

“Okay, so can I look yet?” You asked nervously in response to Omega’s words and elated gasp and Phee’s wide smile. 

“Go ahead!” Lyra said excitedly. 

You took a deep breath and turned around to face the mirror in your room and you scarcely recognised the person staring back at you. You’d never been allowed to see this dress aside from getting a gauge of how it looked on you and even when it was done, you’d only seen how it had looked hanging up. 

This was the first time you’d been able to see it properly and it took your breath away. 

The silhouette complimented your body perfectly, the fabric was light enough for the Pabu climate but what really got to you was- as you angled yourself to see all side of it- the way the rays of late afternoon sunlight hit it and the tiny crystals scattered around the bodice and skirt glimmered a subtle red that matched a shade you were all too familiar with. “Lyra… it’s- I can’t believe- I don’t know what to say… it’s beautiful.” You said breathlessly. “Thank you, thank you so much!”

“I know.” She said, equally emotionally over seeing you in this. “Worth every hour of each day, the late nights and prick of a needle.” 

You laughed, “I’m glad.”

“Hunter won’t know what hit him when he sees you in this.” Lyra added as she couldn’t help herself and started adjusting bits and pieces of your ensemble. 

“Your dress is something new, the necklace from Lyra is your something borrowed. We’re missing your something old and something blue but that’s okay.” Omega said as she checked off the list.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, kid.” Phee said smugly as she went to her stuff and brought out a small, wrapped box and handed it to you.

“What is this?” You said in confusion as you took the package from her but the familiar thrumming in your veins that you sensed as you held it got your heart practically started beating out your chest. With shaky hands, you opened it and inhaled sharply, “Phee… how did you- where did you find this?”

“Liberator of ancient wonders, remember? The people I got it from had already scrapped the hilt so couldn’t get all of it but figured this was the important thing.” Phee said kindly. 

“What is it?” Lyra asked curiously as she took it from you and tied it around your wrist.

“Something from my Jedi days.” You breathed as your blue kyber crystal hung delicately from the leather band. The comfort and familiarity it brought calmed your ever-increasing nerves as you realised it was almost time to go. “Thank you, Phee.”

Phee dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Tech helped me track it down.”

You were overwhelmed by the kindness that had been shown to you and the occasion of it all, but for once, it wasn’t a bad feeling. It only cemented how certain your feelings were and how sure you were that you wanted to do this, but you were only human, and the butterflies refused to die down. 

“Still fine?” Omega asked quietly. 

“Still fine.” You confirmed with a smile as you exhaled deeply to settle your nerves.

“Knew you would be.” Omega said as she wrapped her arms around your waist. 

“Okay, come on. I have to do a few touch ups.” Lyra said. 

“Lyra…” You groaned in an exaggerated fashion. 

“Don’t question me.” She said firmly as she guided you back to your room.

--

“It’s time to go.” Omega announced.

“Okay, okay I’m done!” Lyra said with a satisfied nod as she finished off. 

You took a deep breath as you got to your feet, but you smiled when you saw a familiar person standing ahead of you.

You playfully wolf whistled as you saw the lean figure standing in your living room donned in an all-black suit and tie. As always, Lyra knew what she was doing. “Looking sharp, Crosshair.”

Crosshair’s eyes widened slightly as he saw you step out before he gathered himself and hummed, “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Lyra repeated with exasperated disdain. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I’m not the one marrying her.” Crosshair said with a shrug. 

“I’ll take it.” You said with a fond shake of your head. 

“Where are my credits?” Omega enquired gleefully as she bounded over to the clone. 

“Credits?” You repeated. 

“There may have been a wager on whether or not you would need the time to panic about today.” Omega revealed awkwardly. 

“You bet on us?” You said through a huff of laughter. 

“Omega was the only one that thought neither of you would if that helps.” Crosshair grumbled as he handed her the amount that she was due.

The fact Hunter hadn’t panicked either went a long way to steadying your nerves. “I guess?” You rolled your eyes and let it go because you honestly should’ve expected something like that from them before you realised you didn’t actually know why Crosshair had shown up, “Why are you here, though? Shouldn’t you be with Hunter right now?”

“The kid said you needed someone to walk you down.” Crosshair said airily.  

You narrowed your eyes at him before you asked Omega in confusion, “Thought Hunter was going to have all his brothers with him so we decided that I could walk myself?”

“You did, I didn’t. With Wrecker as best man, Echo as the officiant and Tech as the ring holder and creator, we had a role for Crosshair that wasn’t just groomsman.”

“So, I’ve been forced into this.” Crosshair pretended to be put out. 

But Omega wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “You volunteered!” She reminded him. “And you offered long before Hunter had even decided who was doing what.”

Crosshair sighed and glared at the young girl, “Thought we agreed to keep that between us.”

“Whoops.” Omega replied with a mischievous grin. 

“Aww Crosshair…” You teased lovingly as you made your way over to him. 

“I’ll take it back. I swear, I’ll walk out of here and you can forget about it.” Crosshair warned but he met your embrace. 

Thank you. You said as you hugged him. 

“Well, you’re family, it’s just how it goes.” Crosshair replied quietly before he released you. “Now, let’s get out of here so you can put my brother’s and I out of our misery.” 

“Thought you said he hadn’t freaked out today?” You asked distractedly, missing the pluralisation as you fiddled with your skirt. 

“He hasn’t. We just had to watch him pine over you for months on end. Today will finally bring an end to it.” Crosshair stated as he offered you his arm. 

You clued in then, “Oh, so this is as much for you as it is for us?” You kidded as you looped your arm through his. 

“Definitely.” Crosshair answered with a smirk before the group of you left to finally get things underway. 

With your entourage and family by your side as you made your way down to the beach, you finally started to feel calm and ready for this next stage in your life. 

--

Hunter, on the other hand, couldn't have calmed down if he tried. Sure, he’d disappointed his brothers in that he’d kept it together the entire day but that didn’t mean the nerves weren’t there. 

He stood restlessly at the end of the aisle, the emotions of the occasion combining into a perfect storm of nerves and excitement as he waited for you. 

Finally, the crowds had quieted down, and the overall feeling of bated breath from everyone around him told him that he wouldn't have to wait for much longer.

--

“Just don’t let me trip, Crosshair.” You requested through an unsteady exhale as the time arrived for you to make your way down the wooden platform that had been made to keep you from stepping on the uneven sand.

“Wouldn’t that be funny though?” 

You shot him a look. 

“Not a chance.” Crosshair reassured you sincerely.

With his nod of encouragement, you started to walk. 

--

As he caught the change in expression on his brothers’ faces, Hunter finally turned around to see you and his breath caught in his throat. Every anticipatory worry and nerve swiftly disappeared, and it made him feel rather light-headed which, mixed with how enthralled by the sight of you he was, made for an inconvenient combination. If it weren’t for Wrecker’s subtle act of support to prop him back up, he was certain that he would’ve staggered backwards. 

And as he realised what you making your way to him finally meant, he felt tears threaten to blur his vision and while he didn’t mind the display of emotion, he’d be damned if they were going to take away a single second of the breathtaking image of you walking towards him. He hastily wiped his eyes and collected himself. 

It was then he caught the way the sun hit the scattered jewels on your dress, and he saw the colour that reflected off of them. He darted his gaze over to Lyra who only offered him a smug smile and friendly wink before looking back at you.

--

Sure, the sunset was gorgeous and added a stunning golden backdrop as the beams of light reflected off the turquoise ocean water but as far as you were concerned, the background view was secondary to the one you cared about and that was the man standing ahead of you who was wearing the same black suit as the rest of his brothers but wearing it in a way that made your skin warm and your heart skip a beat. 

Everyone else faded away, your only focus was on the man in front of you and you’d never felt more ready for this next stage.

--

It felt like forever before you finally reached the end of the platform and into the waiting arms of the man you’d been waiting for your whole life. 

Crosshair smiled at the two of you before he handed you off and took his place next to his brothers. 

You passed your bouquet to Omega who hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d seen you this morning. 

Hi. You said with a loving grin. Was it worth the secrecy?

Hunter could only nod dumbly before he searched for words to actually articulate himself. “You- you- look-” Hunter swallowed down the lump in his throat and tried again, “You look beautiful.” He murmured quietly as he stroked his thumb across the backs of your hands. 

So do you. You comfortingly squeezed his in return as you felt the slight tremble in his grip. 

Hunter released a steadying breath as he let your touch ground him. 

“You two ready?” Echo asked quietly.

You both nodded and waited as Echo got the ceremony underway. 

--

“And now it’s time for the vows. Hunter, are you okay to start?” Echo double checked. 

Hunter nodded and, despite the butterflies in his stomach, this was the one part of today that he’d always been ready for. He exhaled steadily and started, “I was made for war. That’s all I knew, and I thought that was going to be my purpose for the rest of my life. I didn’t know any better and I didn’t think there was anything more I should look for. Then you came along, and everything changed. I suddenly realised that life didn’t have to be about living from one battle to the next, there was room for much more than that and you were the one I’d been waiting to have that with. And as much as I tried to deny myself those feelings in the beginning, I quickly realised that there’d never been a more pointless exercise than that. I’ve been yours for a long time, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You can ask any one of our brothers and they’ll tell you the same thing. The fact that I argued against them for so long was probably far more stressful or frustrating than any battle.” 

You glanced at Echo who dipped his head affirmatively before you looked past Hunter’s shoulder to see the grinning and nodding faces from the rest of his brothers. You brought your sights back to Hunter with a bright smile. 

Hunter returned your grin before he carried on, “We’ve been through and survived a lot, perhaps too much, but we always found a way through it. And, although I wished they never had to happen in the first place, they reminded me of how much time we lost refusing to allow ourselves the reality of what this was, and I never want to do that again. We can’t get back the wasted months, but from this point on, I promise not to waste another moment with you. No matter what, you will have me by your side, whatever you need, whatever forever means for us, you’ll have it. I love you. I always have and I always will.”

You’d kept it together up until now but after that, after seeing the emotions behind his eyes and hearing the love and sincerity in his voice, your own body started to shake with emotion. You didn’t know how you were going to find the composure to speak. 

Hunter picked up on that and he took a closer step towards you. He cupped your cheek and nodded reassuringly as he waited patiently for you to go. “It’s just us here,” He whispered, “Take your time.”

You breathed deeply as you settled yourself. And with Hunter’s encouraging gaze and touch as your anchor, you were ready. “Before I left the Jedi Order, I thought I knew what family was but even when I was there, surrounded by people like me, I always knew there was something missing, but I was always taught to not seek something more out, to not pursue or let those feelings take a hold of me. And even though I argued against it, I still lived my life that way. So, when I decided to leave, I thought being on my own was the answer, that if I would be saving myself a lot of hurt and I wouldn’t have the disappointment of failing to find what I was searching for. Then I met you-” You paused for a second, “And Hunter, you shifted my world. Gravity was no longer my centre; it was all you. There was a time where feeling that way terrified me. I thought it was wrong, that it was a way to a darker path, so I kept trying to distance myself from it, but it was impossible because, no matter how hard I searched for it, there was never any darkness when it came to how I felt about you. You’ve always been my light, even when I didn’t realise it, you brought me back to life and showed me a different way to exist. I knew you were the person I’d been waiting for. You talk about how obvious your feelings were to the people around you, trust me when I say that you weren’t alone. Your brothers didn’t let me off the hook when it came to you either and I don’t even mind admitting now that they were so obviously right.” You added light-heartedly which got a hum of laughter from both Hunter and everyone else. You carried on more seriously into your last part, “I love you, Hunter, I love your kindness, your compassion, your strength. With every fibre of my being, I love you. I can’t wait for the future we’re going to have together. I’m yours too, I always have been. Whatever this next part in our life sees, I promise that I won’t ever stop loving you. You have my heart, my support, and that won’t ever change.” You promised through a choked breath as your feelings threatened to overwhelm you. 

Hunter felt his heart tighten in his chest as your words hit him and now, he was finding himself looking forward to the next part getting wrapped up because every irritating second, he spent not married or closer to you was getting harder to patiently ignore.  

Echo found himself getting affected by the occasion and emotions of the two of you so he quickly cleared his throat and got onto the next part, “Hunter, do you take (Y/N) to be your wife for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Hunter said and he’d never felt more certain in his words as he accepted one of the rings from Tech tenderly placed it on your finger.

Wrecker and Lyra both wiped tears away from their eyes. 

“And (Y/N), do you take Hunter to be your husband for as long as you both shall live?” Echo asked. 

“I do.” You said as well, and you’d never felt more at peace than you did after saying that phrase. You took the gold ring from Tech to place on Hunter’s finger and it was then you noticed a small 99 and your lightsaber hilt had been engraved on the band. You looked to Tech who simply offered a nod and a warm smile. 

Hunter impatiently looked at Echo as you let his hand go. 

“Go ahead.” Echo said with an affectionate eye roll. 

The two of you didn’t hesitate. Hunter cradled your jaw and kissed you within an instant and you needed no prompting to press yourself against him. You flung your arms around his neck as the two of you shared in a short but passionate embrace while the whoops and cheers of the crowd sounded around you and somewhere in between Echo officially announced the two of you. 

When you pulled apart, you were instantly embraced by your family and the seven of you shared in the moment before you and Hunter led the way back down the aisle and to Upper Pabu. 

--

The walk up to the colonnade was one that felt remarkably serene and calming since the citizens of Pabu had laid petals from the Maya tree on the ground in preparation for your ascent. 

“Any regrets?” Hunter whispered into your hair as he kept you tight to his side as the two of you walked. 

Not a single one. You said emphatically as the two of you reached the top and shared in one more kiss before the band started playing and the celebrations could officially begin. 

--

The after party was well under way and you and Hunter were doing your part to speak to and thank as many people as you could. 

“Congratulations you two!”

“Thank you, Shep.” You replied warmly as you hugged him tightly, “For everything you’ve done for us, it means a lot!” You pulled back so he could move on to Hunter. 

“Couldn’t have had this without you.” Hunter agreed as he went to shake the jolly man’s hand but was instead pulled into a bone crushing embrace. 

“Just wait, soon it’ll be Lyana’s turn.” You teased as he released Hunter, “I heard that future thought came up quite a bit a couple days ago.”

“Maybe but don’t forget your situation too… what about when it’s Omega’s?” Shep retorted fondly. 

Oh. Right. You and Hunter shared a terrified look. That was a quick way to turn the tables on your playful banter and it left you both scrambling for anything to say in response. 

“Uh huh. Think about that one.” Shep kidded smugly as he rested a strong, supportive hand on both your shoulders before he walked away.

You and Hunter both searched the dancing crowds and found Omega dancing happily with Wrecker, Lyana, Mox, Deke and Stak, and you knew Shep’s words were going to stick with you for some time. “

“We still have years and years, right?” You asked Hunter fretfully. 

“Yeah… and longer if I have anything to do with it.”

He said the words seriously, but you knew him well enough to understand that neither of you would get in the way of her future happiness, however you could still view that time with a certain degree of apprehension. You glanced at him with a warm smile. I love you for that. 

Hunter returned your smile before thankfully; a new voice broke you both out of your thoughts. 

“I’m sorry but we gotta head out. Congratulations to you both.” Rex said sincerely as he and Gregor approached you. 

You let Hunter bid Rex farewell first and you said goodbye to Gregor. 

“Well, beautiful, you’re leaving me broken-hearted.” Gregor said unhappily but there was a kind smile on his face.

“I’m sure you’ll recover just fine, Gregor.” You said with a fond smile as you hugged him before you hugged Rex, “Thank you both so much for making it out here!”

“I only wish we could stay longer.” Rex said apologetically.

“We understand.” Hunter reassured him with you nodding in agreement. 

“And you’re definitely okay with Echo joining you two later?” You double checked.

It was Rex’s turn to nod. “He’ll meet us at the rendezvous tomorrow. We’ll be fine.”

Gregor tossed Hunter a mischievous grin before he said conspiratorially to you, “Sure I can’t convince you to come along, beautiful? We can get this thing annulled in-”

“Would you stop that?” Hunter griped as he tucked you into his side even though he knew the likelihood of you actually leaving in any way was non-existent but even the thought illogically grated on his nerves. “I have never once found this in any way amusing.”

“Yeah, but you react every time. Can’t help myself.” Gregor said with a laugh. 

You leaned your head on Hunter’s shoulder and placed your left hand on his chest, your rings proudly on display. “Sorry Gregor, I’m very happy with my decision.”

Gregor shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Pretty sure what you’re doing actually qualifies as harassment.” Hunter grumbled under his breath, but he was smiling at his brother. 

You chuckled softly as you shook your head affectionately at your husband. You’re always my choice.

“We’ll get out of your hair.” Rex said as he saw the way Hunter’s face softened as he glanced down at you. He tugged on Gregor’s arm, “Good luck you two.”

“Same to you, Rex.” You said genuinely.

“Stay safe out there.” Hunter added before they walked away. 

--

So far, everything about this celebration had been easy and fun and you’d been enjoying sitting at your table and talking to your family but that was all ruined as the time you dreaded finally arrived. 

“What did we decide about Plan 42?” You muttered hastily to Omega who only shook her head at you and left it to Tech to answer. 

“Since this is not in fact a hostage situation, the parameters of the plan do not apply here.” Tech stated matter-of-factly. 

“Go on, I’m sure you won’t be that bad!” Wrecker encouraged enthusiastically. 

“You’ve survived much worse.” Echo pointed out. 

“And I need the entertainment of watching this anyway.” Crosshair added. 

“I hate all of you right now.” You groaned.

“You’ve managed before.” Hunter said with an affectionate roll of his eyes as he took a hold of your hand. 

“We barely moved, and something tells me that’s less of an option here.” You countered as you reluctantly let him tug you to your feet. 

“You, my gorgeous and amazing wife, are incredibly capable and have lived through several attempts on your life. You will get through this.” Hunter said with great seriousness in his voice though his eyes twinkled with humour. 

The use of that particular word sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine. “See, I can’t argue when you say things like that.” You mumbled as you walked beside him. 

“Why do you think I say them?” He quipped lightly in return as he squeezed your hand. 

Ah so there was always an ulterior motive. Here I was thinking it was just cause you love me. You replied with a playful frown but with every step towards the centre of the colonnade, your heartbeat grew more and more frantic. 

“Well, there’s that too.” Hunter responded good-naturedly but when you reached the centre, he noticed you already staring at the ground and twisting the rings on your finger in an anxious panic. He delicately placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your head up “Hey, remember what I said earlier today. It’s just you and I here, no one else. I’ve got you, okay?”

The sweet melody of the music started to play, and you saw the trust and love in his warm, brown eyes and they grounded you. You took a deep breath and nodded as you grabbed a hold on his hand and rested the other hand on his shoulder and started to move. 

--

The fact that Hunter knew what he was doing, and you knew you could count on him to not make you look like a fool made it much easier for you to relax into this and you were doing much better than the last time you were in this position, and you could feel yourself enjoying it now. 

Hunter spun you around, much to the delight of the crowd, and as he brought you back in, dipped you backwards. “Told you, you’re doing just fine.” He uttered tenderly as he pulled you upright and placed a quick kiss to your lips. 

“Well, I have a pretty good partner.” You said softly as you let yourself follow his lead and dance smoothly around the space. 

Hunter grinned at you before he twirled you away from him but instead of pulling you back against him, this time he let your hand go and backed away. 

“What-” But before you could finish your sentence, a pair of hands caught you. You glanced up to see the beaming face of Wrecker looking down at you. Wrecker, what are you-

“You didn’t think Hunter was the only one that wanted this tradition to stay in, did you?”

“I don’t understand?” You queried as the two of you took a turn about the floor. 

But Wrecker ignored your question and enacted phase two of what this part of the tradition was really for. He kept you slowly spinning around the floor before he started his piece, “I’ve been there for both the good and the bad of what the two of you had to experience. And, especially after Ord Mantell, it was hard, it was really hard to watch him go through that. But you need to know that it wasn’t just him… I missed you too. I’m really glad you decided to take Hunter up on his offer on Devaron. No matter what this marriage with Hunter has in store for you, you ain’t getting rid of us any time soon.” Wrecker finished off; his voice gruff with emotion before he whirled you around and released his grip. 

Wrecker, I- But you barely had any time to process what was going on before you Echo was the one now holding you. 

“Instead of a speech, we all decided to do this instead.” Echo explained as he had his turn with you. 

Oh. Was all you could manage to say. You didn’t trust yourself to speak out loud for the moment. 

“I hadn’t been around this squad for a long time before we met you, but I like to think I knew them all pretty well and seeing how Hunter was around you and vice versa, I just knew you two had something. It was tough to watch you both refuse it for so long and when you finally acknowledged it, I truly didn’t think it would get much better for you two, but it did and I’m so happy for you. But you need to also know that it wasn’t just him, you got something out of all of us. You filled a gap I don’t think he or any of us really realised we needed filled until you stepped aboard that ship.” Echo removed himself and jutted his chin in the direction behind you. 

You turned into the waiting arms of the next one who turned out to be Tech. All of you are really doing this?

“It was unanimously agreed.” Tech responded with a small grin before he said his piece, “Your feelings for Hunter and his for you were obvious from the start, that’s not what I’m here to convey tonight but I do have something to say that I feel is crucial for you to understand. Now, unfortunately I don’t have the exact data to hand, but I have observed this for quite some time,” Tech raised his arm, so you had to duck and spin under it before he brought his hand back to your waist, “You have a pattern of using the word ‘your’ when referring to us as Hunter’s brothers. I don’t think we have said it enough but, despite the official nature of today that cements this fact, you were a part of our family long before this day. We’re your brothers too.” Tech said with affectionate sincerity before he let you go into the waiting hand of the next one in line.

You kept one hand intertwined with his whilst the other rested on his forearm. “So, even you agreed to this huh?” You asked Crosshair with an amused smile but much to your surprise, this time he didn’t play into the joke, he just regarded you with genuine- almost tender- seriousness. 

Crosshair exhaled a short breath before he started, “We weren’t really accepted by the regs and although we owned that, it wasn’t always easy, especially in the beginning. But then you came along, and you took us for what we were. I kept expecting you to realise the extent of the craziness that you’d signed up for and leave but you never did. You just fit. Hunter’s idea to ask you to join us was probably one of his best ones. And it wasn’t only that, you and Hunter worked on a level I’d never seen before. But you’re not just his perfect match you know, you were meant to be a Bad Batcher.” Crosshair said quietly with a smile before he let you go and walked away. 

The final person was considerably shorter than the rest of them so instead of dancing, you crouched down to be eye-level with the young girl. 

“When I was on Kamino, I didn’t hear much of anything about the war or the rest of the galaxy, but I always knew about this squad. And when I heard about you, I knew I had to finally find a way to meet you all again. I may have been new to the group, but I watched you. I watched you with Hunter and it was clear how much you loved each other. But it was also clear how much love you and the rest of the squad have for one another. I wasn’t just joining a squad; I was joining a family filled with people I admire. You have a bit of all of them in you and if I grow up to be anything like the person you are, I know I’ll be living my life right.” Omega said meaningfully, her voice choking up slightly as she finished. 

You hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Omega.” You whispered, your voice clogged with emotion. 

Omega let you go and smiled at you before she retreated backwards into the group of them, and she felt Tech’s hands on her shoulders. 

You straightened up and stared at the group of six people that formed your beautiful, wonderful family and you didn’t know what you’d done to deserve them or this happy ending. “Okay, this isn’t fair,” You said through a weepy-eyed smile, “I was doing a really good job of keeping it together until now.” You dabbed away the happy tears that had fallen down your cheeks. 

Hunter stepped towards you and kissed your brow before he pressed his forehead against yours. “Marrying you has been the best decision I’ve ever made and it’s an adventure I have been ready to take with you for a while, no matter how bumpy it could get, and I never want you to think otherwise. But I know you, and I know the doubt and anxiety can creep in regardless. If through the years, you ever need reassurance on how much I love you or how important you are to this family, there are plenty of people who would be willing to remind you.”

A sob mixed with a noise of elation sounded from your lips and you tugged on his tie to bring him closer as you kissed him deeply, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

Hunter reacted instantly. He placed his hands on your hips and pressed you tight against him but even as the party raged on around you, at this moment, it was just the two of you now and everything had never felt so right. 

--

The celebrations had finally drawn to a close and you were making your way home, happy laughs and chatter filling the silent night of Pabu as you walked back with your family. 

You and Hunter reached your home first and paused outside your door to say your goodbyes to everyone first. 

As the group of you split off, you remembered the final thing you had to say today. 

“Lyra?” You called after her.

Lyra turned around expectantly.

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. I never thought meeting you on Ord Mantell would lead to having a friend like you but I’m very grateful it did. Thank you for being a part of my life.”

Lyra smiled and hugged you tightly. “I’m very glad to be in it. Oh, and don’t forget, I know that you’re finally using the gifts I got you, so I want the details when you're back.” She whispered to you, a mischievous tone in her voice.  

You’d forgotten you’d told her about that idea, and you had to be sure to conceal your reaction and merely nodded and returned her necklace before she winked and walked away from you.

--

“Hey, can you do something for me?” You asked as the group faded into the distance. 

Hunter glanced at you with a questioning look on his face.

The future isn’t always certain, I know that, but please don’t fall out of love with me. 

Hunter huffed out an affectionate laugh and tugged you to his chest as he uttered into your hair, “There’s no chance of that. I will fall in love with you over and over again.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I don’t care how, where or when.”

“No matter how long it’s been?” You questioned teasingly as you slowly kissed up the column of his throat.

“Mmhmm.” He murmured as he got lost in the sensation of your lips on his skin before he took a small step back and cupped your cheek as he looked into your eyes. 

The slight coolness and weight of the gold band against the skin of your cheek made your breath hitch and the small act was enough to ignite the simmering tension that had been building between you since the ceremony. 

“You’re mine.” You both said in unison before you met each other in a passionate embrace and Hunter all but kicked the door to your home down before backing you inside.

--

Muscle memory guided the way to your bedroom and despite the eager and frantic noises that sounded from you both as you kissed each other, when it came to turning you around and undoing the buttons on the back of your dress, Hunter was careful- almost delicate- in his touch. As your skin was revealed to him, he managed to plant a few adoring kisses to the fading scars on your back before you turned around and placed a hand on his chest to halt him from going any further. 

“Wait a moment.” You requested breathlessly but you saw the flash of confusion in his eyes. “I won’t be long. There’s just something I need to do first.” You assured him. 

Shoulders heaving, Hunter dipped his head in acknowledgement of your wish and dazedly retreated out of the room.

--

You shut the door and took a breath for courage as you took your dress off and hung it up in your closet before you studied your reflection as you were left standing in the final white lingerie set that Lyra had gifted you. If Hunter’s reactions to the red and black ones were any indication, you knew this would go down just as well- it was the second part of your plan that had you wondering about how long his patience would last and you couldn’t wait to put it to the test. 

Feeling good, you donned your robe and, leaving it untied, you reached into your nightstand and removed the small black velvet bag that, along with other items that could be used at a different time, had the particular one you were searching for. 

Feeling ready, you reopened the door.

--

Hunter only got as far as taking off his shoes and undoing his tie before the door reopened and he stopped everything he was doing and just stared at you. 

It wasn’t just the striking image of you in the white lingerie that had him rooted to the spot, he’d also clocked the object you were holding in your hand. His breath hitched. “Sweetheart…” His tone was cautionary because already his self-control was evaporating and his own plan was forming in his head but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be involved as much as he wanted to be.

You gestured to the small bag you now left open on top of your bedside table. “I’ll admit, I was a bit unsure when I first saw this as one of the things in there but after finding what worked for me, I understand why Lyra included it.” You responded, your voice low and enticing as you kept his attention entirely fixed on you. 

“When- when have you used this?” Hunter said, his voice hoarse as the images were enough to make his head spin. He couldn’t help himself either and he closed the gap between you before he immediately removed the robe and traced his mouth along your neck and across your collarbone. His hands caressed the fabric that graced your body. 

Your eyes flickered shut and a content sigh emitted from your lips. “Some nights you were home late and I just couldn’t wait.” 

In response to your words, Hunter ground out a groan against your throat and his hands tightened their grip on your hips but from the way you took a hold of his wrists, he was beginning to understand that was as far as he was going to get with you for the moment. 

“Remember what I said about not falling out of love with me?” You asked as you found your composure once more. 

Hunter nodded slowly as he waited for you to elaborate and then you said the words that made him feel immediately faint and all he could register was the primal desire that was coursing through his veins as he got clarity on your intentions. 

“I want you to wait. And I want you to watch. Can you be good and do that for me?” You crooned against his lips before you kissed him seductively and you watched the change in his eyes as your words registered with him. 

A noise that was mixed with agreement and anguish left his lips as he could do nothing to prevent you from removing yourself and taking your place on the bed. 

Feeling emboldened by his reaction, you offered him a coy smirk and laid down. You turned it on and a sharp gasp that swiftly morphed into a groan left your mouth as you ran the toy down your clothed chest, and further still, teasing yourself in the areas that heightened the arousal coursing through your veins. 

“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking about.” Hunter begged. He needed to know what you were thinking about if he had any hope of standing by and waiting for your permission to touch you. 

Now that was something you had no trouble divulging. “I always imagine you. I imagine your touch, your lips on my skin.”

In a bizarre way, that was the last thing he wanted to hear. He’d hoped for some generic fantasy, something different that could aid him in distancing himself from the moment so he could just enjoy the view but he was now unable to do that. Those words were not helpful in quelling his ever rising need for you. “Sweetheart, please…” Hunter croaked as he could barely find the strength within him to stay standing. Hearing and seeing you like this was sending every part of him into overdrive. 

But you just about managed to shake your head as you kept going, “I imagine your fingers, your tongue, how right it feels when you’re inside of me.” Your words left you through breathless, pleasure induced whispers and your hips bucked as you finally pulled your underwear to the side and applied pressure with the toy where you were also craving his touch. Hunter’s quiet but eager words of encouragement only spurned you on. You kept changing the pace and vibrations so you could prolong the experience. You didn’t mind toying with him or teasing yourself, you knew it would only lead to the reaction from him that you were hoping for. 

Hunter’s mouth felt like it was filled with cotton but he just about managed to gain control of his faculties to reply, “What was that you said about living to torture me?” He rasped, the raw, unfiltered desperation in his voice seeping through as he watched you in utter awe. He sank to his knees at the end of the bed, fingers clawing at the sheets as he forced himself to follow your instructions. His gaze alternated between what was happening between your legs and the expression on your face as you took control over your own pleasure. It was a sight that set his blood on fire but what he was watching was like no test he’d ever faced before, and he would give anything to do this with you, no matter how small a contribution it would be. 

You couldn't find the words to reply for the moment. You were careening towards that cliff-edge that would bring your unbridled relief and you couldn’t bring yourself to delay it any further. 

Hunter immediately recognised the change in your breath and the crinkle in your brow and he couldn’t wait any longer. His patience snapped and he grabbed a hold of your wrist to stop you from going any further. He crawled up your body and kissed you fiercely, muffling your sounds of protest. He pinned your arms above your head, all the while never breaking away from your lips and the slow grind of his hips served as a temporary relief for him as well as an easy and pleasurable distraction for you as he worked the toy out of your grasp. 

Hey- You started to argue as you realised what he’d done.  

“My turn.” Hunter growled against your throat as he sucked a mark on your pulse point, relishing in your quiet moan and the way your body arched under his in response to the action. He found the strength to remove himself from you and alter your places, so he was against the headboard of the bed and your back was against his chest. He angled your head to face straight ahead. “I’m not the only one who should be watching,” He murmured into your ear, “I want you to see how stunning you are and why I can’t control myself around you. You, my perfect wife, are a sight to behold.” With that, he raked his teeth across the skin of your neck and reapplied the toy to where he was longing to be but for now, he would resist. He wanted to have his way with you like this first.

You watched yourself in the bureau mirror and your breath quivered at the sight. Not only was there something particularly and devastatingly arousing about the fact that Hunter was still fully dressed in his immaculate suit while you were wearing next to nothing. But what also added to the excitement was that you had never seen yourself like this and you finally grasped what he was talking about. You couldn’t take your eyes away from your reflection. Your pupils were blown wide, your lips were parted in a perfect ‘o’ shape and your body slotted against his like you were made to be with him. 

Hunter rested his chin on the crook of your neck and watched as your spine bent to his every design, watching your face carefully as he worked the toy between your legs. The noises leaving you fuelling his need to make this an unforgettable experience. “These sounds you make, they’re better than any noise I’ve heard before…. that furrow in your brow, the way your lips part when you can’t stay quiet… the tension in your body I feel before you find relief… all of it is something I can’t believe I get to witness or that I get to create.” Hunter said the words in a frenzied state of passion and he needed to make sure you also understood. “Do you see why I’m so glad to call you mine? Do you see how beautiful you are?”

“Yes.” You agreed with a broken groan as your hips chased the sensations he was giving you. 

He removed the toy, ignoring your faint mewl of annoyance. “Who are you?” Hunter growled as he nipped on your earlobe. 

“I’m your wife.” You gasped, practically delirious with the effect he was having on you.

Hunter hummed his approval and put the toy back, grinning against your jaw as he kissed a sensual path along it before he asked next, “And who am I?”

“You’re my husband.” You panted as you saw the way his ring reflected in the evening light. 

Yes he was. And that was never going to change. “Come for your husband.”

You fell apart with a loud cry and panted breathlessly as you sagged against his chest, but he wasn’t done with you yet. “Hunter-” You choked on your words as he kept going. You went to snap your legs shut but the way he’d entangled his legs with yours made the act impossible. You were completely at his mercy, and you couldn’t think of anything better. As you kept your eyes fixed on your two reflections, you saw the hunger in them and you couldn’t believe you’d spent so long denying yourself these feelings you had for him but you couldn’t linger on those thoughts as you felt yourself stumbling towards another release. Another shout emitted from your lips as that build up of wonderful pressure crashed through you.

As he worked you through the second one, another idea entered Hunter’s head and he kissed the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I wonder how many times I can make you finish with this.” He purred with seductive intent but he allowed you a moment to recover as he traced his lips over any skin he could reach.  

A whimper left you at the very thought but that wasn’t what you wanted yet. You wanted to feel him, you craved the feeling of him inside you. You wanted your husband. You used your freedom to turn and straddle him. “For the next two weeks, you can do whatever you want. But I need you. Now.” You insisted breathlessly against his lips as you practically tore his jacket off and frantically got to work on unbuttoning his shirt. 

It hit him then. Two weeks. He had two weeks of pure relaxation with you. One week here, and one away on the neighbouring island planet that he’d been to a couple days ago upon Shep’s safety recommendation and he’d seen for himself how little the people there cared for or even paid attention to the Empire. 

There’d be no interruptions.

No jobs needing done. 

Just him and you. 

Alone. 

And the thought excited him much more than he’d anticipated. With a low, eager groan, he let go of the toy, wrapped his arms around you and captured your lips in a searing kiss and helped aid you in your attempts to undress him before he did the same for you. 

You raised your hips before carefully bringing them back down to welcome him as your bodies became one, the sensation making both your breath’s catch in your throat. 

Hunter kept you secure for a second as your hips became flush with his. He needed a moment to compose himself and he also wanted to give you time to adjust. He tenderly tucked the dishevelled strands of hair back from your face and looked into your eyes and he saw a love that he knew was reflected in the way he looked at you too- and it wasn’t an expression that was just for tonight but it was one that you shared for as long as you’d known one another. He couldn’t believe how there’d been a time where he thought feeling this happy, feeling this much love wasn't a possibility for either of you. “Tell me when.” He requested, his voice strained. 

Move. Please. You gave your consent instantly as you kissed him once more and finally, he loosened his grip and the act gave you both what you were longing for. 

The two of you moved in perfect synchronisation, swallowing each other’s groans with loving, passionate kisses. 

There was nothing but pure, unfiltered love between the two of you as you got lost in the pleasure induced haze you were gifting one another. 

“Sweetheart, I- I can’t- I’m-” Hunter stammered desperately as he moved his hips in tandem with yours. He’d already been close to the edge when he was both watching and participating in your little game and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out with how perfect you felt now but he needed you to finish one more time. He needed to feel you come apart again. 

You recognised the change in his pace and you knew he was nearing that same point you were. “With me.” You encouraged as you twisted your fingers in his hair to ground you as you were tumbling towards that moment of ecstasy. 

Hunter felt you tighten around him which only brought on his own release. He buried his face in your chest as he finished with a deep moan.

You collapsed against his chest and for a moment, the only sounds that filled the air were your uneven pants and the island critters that came alive at this time of night. Wow, that- I- I don’t know what else to say other than that.

Hunter huffed out a laugh. “When we go away, bring that bag with you.” He requested into the quiet through heavy breaths as he stroked your back.

You chuckled softly as you rested your head against him and worked on catching your own breath. “So, Sergeant, now that you’ve made an honest woman out of me, what’s the plan for the next 14 days?”

“Keeping you in bed is a key part of my agenda.” He said with complete seriousness. 

A rush of arousal swept through your body at that thought. “We’ll need to eat at some point.” You pointed out with playful logic, a smile in your voice as you listened to his heartbeat. 

“Oh, I will… We know the counters here are strong enough anyway…” Hunter mused as his hands now slid up and down your sides. 

You raised yourself to catch the gleam in his eye and you shook your head fondly. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Hunter hummed out a soft laugh and made a path of kisses from the tip of your nose, to the hollow of your throat before he switched your positions, so he was now on top of you. “The second part of my plan is making sure I make you as happy as you make me.”

Your fingers stroked through the small pieces of his fringe before you threaded your fingers in his dark locks. “You’ve already done that and more. I’ve never been happier.” You said with deep sincerity, and you kissed him gently, the promise of your new life together implicitly understood in the tender way you met the passionate, loving strokes of his mouth. 

Finally, you felt utterly complete and at peace.

--

Ten years later

The moonlight was her only guide as she walked the familiar path to the cave.

She quietly made her way into the cavern and to her new ship that was finally ready to fly. 

She didn’t feel great about leaving in the dead of night without saying a proper goodbye but her mind was made up and she couldn’t face any more debates. 

She was going and that was that. She knew you’d all accept her choice in time. 

–

As she entered and crouched down to turn the lamps on, she heard a faint bark and as she followed the source of the sound, she realised she wasn’t alone after all.

Of course, she should’ve known the couple that consisted of a Jedi and a clone with enhanced senses would make it impossible to do anything sneakily. 

She fondly shook her head and made her way over to where you two were sitting by the area of the cave that looked out through and opening to where the moonlight and ocean met.  

–

“Thought you could just sneak off?” Hunter said with an amused lilt to his voice before he sighed as he realised there was no changing what was about to happen. “Time hasn’t dulled all my senses.”

“And older Jedi or now, you forget that we know you pretty well by now.” You pointed out with a kind smile from Hunter’s left. 

Omega sat down on Hunter’s other side. “This shouldn’t be a surprise. The Rebellion needs pilots now more than ever.” 

Hunter simply released a resigned sigh. 

“I’ve made my choice, Hunter. I want to do more.” 

“And we want to keep you safe.” 

A light huff of laughter left her lips. Some things time never changed and Hunter’s protective nature was one of those things. “You have but I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Oh, come on, Omega. You know we can’t do that.” You reminded her with a slight smile. You were prepared for this but the reality of it was always going to be hard to handle. 

Hunter nodded his agreement with your statement before he said to her, “You’re our kid, Omega. You always will be.”

She glanced at you “Hunter, you’ve all fought enough. This is my fight. I’m ready.” She needed him to understand that or she’d be leaving with a heavy heart. Omega looked to you for confirmation that he was finally ready to let her go as you were the only one during the beginning of all the back and forth that had immediately shown a willingness to hear her out. 

He’s not here to stop you but let him have a bit longer with you, okay? You requested gently and you saw her give you a subtle dip of her head that she’d heard you.

“Yeah I know you are, but I’m not.” Hunter admitted with a deep sigh. He registered your hand squeezing his knee in comfort. 

My love, it’s time. You said delicately.

Hunter released a shaky exhale before you all got to your feet.

Omega gave Hunter a warm embrace before she pulled back but left her hands on his shoulders. “Keep an eye on the others while I’m gone. Batcher too.” Omega instructed with a sad but also content smile. Leaving was never going to be easy but at least now she had the blessing of those that mattered most to her.

You took your turn and squeezed her tight. Take this.

Omega’s eyes widened as she parted from you and saw what you were holding. “No, I can’t. It’s-”

“I want you to have it, Omega.” You insisted as you tied the bracelet with your blue kyber crystal attached to it. I love you, kid and I know you won’t exactly have time for a weekly comm chat but this way, I’ll always know where you are.

Omega gave you a happy but slightly teary-eyed smile as she nodded her acceptance of the gift. 

The three of you shared in a final group hug before you separated for the last time.

“Off you go.” Hunter encouraged with a sad but accepting grin.

Omega darted up the steps of her ship.

“Omega…” 

She half turned to face Hunter again.

“If you ever need us, we’ll be there.” He promised as he wrapped his arm around you and squeezed your shoulder. 

“Just say where and when.” You affirmed passionately. 

Omega nodded and powered up the shift and she’d never felt more ready for this next adventure. With a final wave of farewell from the cockpit, she got the ship in the air.

In response to Batcher’s quiet whine as the ship took off, Hunter reassured the hound, “It’s alright, girl. She’ll be fine.” 

“They won’t know what hit them.” You said proudly as you watched the ship fade into the distance. 

“The Empire or the Rebellion?” Hunter quipped.

“Both.” You replied with a smile. “Come on. We’ve got our family to get back too.” You intertwined your hands and the two of you and your faithful hound companion left the cavern. 

–

“So, now that one of our own is off on the next adventure, are you still liking the boring, domestic life?” Hunter asked light-heartedly as the two of you made your way back to your home.

You paused and looped your arms around his neck with a doting smile. “I love my boring, domestic life and you forget, this life has my handsome husband in it and I would be crazy if I wanted anything different.” You replied sincerely. 

Hunter offered you a small, playful smirk. “Still handsome huh? Don’t you mean old?”

You arched a sceptical brow. Surely he wasn’t serious? Your eyes hungrily scanned the healthy body of a man that didn’t have to live battle to battle or ration to ration and the grown out hair that had beautiful streaks of light grey mixed in with the dark brown locks. And the beard? You didn’t have enough words or time to even express how well that worked for him. He never failed to get your heart racing, no matter how much time passed. “Have you seen yourself, Hunter? It’s actually unfair how good you look.”

Hunter returned your smile and placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. He nuzzled the side of your face as he murmured, “You get my heart racing too.”

You chuckled softly- you knew he would’ve sensed the increase in your heartbeat. You kissed him tenderly in response before the two of you walked on. 

You ruminated in your thoughts as your home drew nearer. Omega wasn’t a kid anymore, this decision was hers to make and she had all the support behind her. Would you all worry? Of course you would, that was a given no matter what she was signing up for but she had proven time and time again that she could take care of herself. Your paths may be different now but family was the only thing you could always count on and no matter where any of you ended up, that was a certainty that was never going to fade with time. 

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @moonychicky, @notgonnaedit, @arctrooper69, @dizzy-9906, @nightmonkeysstuff, @allthingsimagines, @thegreymarveljedi, @jellybeanstacey0519, @callsign-denmark, @superbookishhufflepuff, @qvnthesia, @justsomerandompersonintheworld, @ooostarwarsfandom501st, @dreamsight73, @yourreababboon, @livin-life-to-the-coolest

[nopxxx]

OK UPDATE I FEEL THE NEED TO SHARE THAT IS NOT RELATED TO BATMAN AT ALL AND IF THIS CHANGES HOW YOU SEE ME THEN MY FEARS ARE CORRECT AND I AM THE ASSHOLE, AND I SINCERELY HOPE I AM NOT. (this is basically a reddit post but I don’t have reddit so)

Ok so my friend and I went to see Mufasa in theaters yesterday and the people behind us were super annoying, I’m gonna get further into that.

We came in and sat down and all was well for moments, then a large family(4 adults, 3 kids) came and sat down behind us, and they were speaking a language I assume was either Ukrainian or Russian, which isn’t really relevant rn but it will be later

So the movie starts, and they’re still talking at a normal-leaning-loud volume, but my friend and I are thinking “oh they’ll quiet down soon enough”

They did not quiet down, as a matter of fact. The three kids, ranging what looked to be 4-7 were literally running all around the room, yelling and all of the things that small children do, and I’m not upset with the kids at all, my issue is with the ADULTS

The adults are still yapping(they never stopped) and one of them turned on their flashlight a few times and WHAT. Who does that. Anyways, the littlest kid starts calling for their mother, literally crying “Mama, mama, mama, mama” over and over again and GUESS WHAT? THE MOTHER DID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. HER KID WAS THERE SCREAMING FOR HER IN A VERY PUBLIC SPACE, AND SHE JUST IGNORED THEM.

THAT REALLY BOTHERS ME. So the entire time the kids are obviously upset and don’t want to be there and the parents AREN’T EVEN WATCHING THE FUCKING MOVIE, THEY ARE YAPPING. ITS FINE TO DO THAT AT HOME, BUT IN A THEATER? Like I get small comments here and there, but they were speaking legit constantly

And when the small kids are sitting down, they’re kicking our seats or pulling on them, one of them even grabbed at my hair(or tried to, I moved) AND THE PARENTS DID NOTHING

Saying this again, I AM NOT, I REPEAT, AM NOT UPSET WITH THE KIDS AT ALL. THEY ARE LITTLE AND DESERVE SO MUCH ATTENTION AND AFFECTION AND THEY WERE JUST UNHAPPY. I AM NOT UPSET WITH THE CHILDREN.

Like, if the adults had been trying to keep them quiet, ANYTHING, then I wouldn’t be saying any of this. I understand having to look after a screaming child in public, and I know it’s not fun, but it is NEVER okay to just ignore your child like that.

I feel like if a kid is that little, you shouldn’t be taking them to the movies. Their little minds can’t really comprehend whats happening, and tbh there were some parts of the movie that I think could be frightening to a young child. A 7 year old I can understand, but a 3 to 4 year old doesn’t have the mental capacity for it.

So the movie ends and we leave, neither of us said anything to them(we were stupid and decided to bus around rather than drive and had to catch our bus)

So moving on to today, I was in my biology class right?(college), and it’s nearing the end of class and I decided to tell my deskmate about it, AND HE WAS LIKE “Well… it is a kids movie..” AND CALLED ME NATIONALISTIC, PROBABLY ONLY BECAUSE I SAID MAYBE THEY JUST DIDNT KNOW AMERICAN THEATER ETIQUETTE (yes, that is the exact word he used) and said that my friend and I should have just waited until it was released to streaming services.

SO LIKE AM I IN THE WRONG. SHOULD I NOT HAVE BEEN ANNOYED?

I just went and saw mufasa in theaters and the people sitting behind me were SO annoying like it was awful but it got me thinking, what would the batfam be like in a movie theatre?

I feel like they would

a) not go at all, or at least not as a family

b) be the LOUDEST most infuriating people in the room

or c) sit so quiet and still that it creeps out the people sitting near them. Like their expressions don’t change at all, they don’t utter a peep, no snacks or slushies, nothing, just silence. Then they leave the SECOND it’s over, all standing in unison

maybe I’ll make a fic of it

[lilgarbitch]

Running In Circles - One

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: Slight angst, slight fluff, anxiety...I think that's all so far

Word count: 6k

Author's note: I’M BACK BITCHES!!! So I changed/ am changing a few things and I hope it doesn’t upset anyone. As much as I loved Tommy, Tony, and Cam, I feel like I could’ve put more effort into their names. So Tommy is now Finn, Tony is now Calum/Cal, and Cam is now Damien. Some dialogue and things have changed as well and I can’t say I’m extremely happy with the way I wrote this chapter, but I didn’t want to change too much. Still, I hope you’re as excited as I am ;)

Y/N

I sit hunched over, elbows resting on my knees as my leg rapidly bounced up and down. My chin rested on my fist, with a stressed scowl covering my face as I sat in the lounge of our tour bus. I realize I’m shaking my whole body by bouncing but I truly don’t care. It eased the racing thoughts of the show we’re about to play. The first show of our new tour.

Finn walks into the lounge and gives me a slightly pained pitying look. I try to sit up and let his presence distract me from the stress, waiting for him to say something, but it just takes over my body once again and I fall back against my seat with a loud huff and shut my eyes. 

“I know you always get nervous shows, but…Hun..” he sends a small pout my way, “you look like you haven’t slept. You’ve been dreaming of us touring with someone big for so long…But it almost looks like you’re regretting it.” Finn looks at me with pity filled eyes. 

I let out a long exhale, rubbing my hands against my fishnet-covered thighs, trying to soothe myself. 

“I am excited, trust me. I-” I pause to squeeze my eyes shut and try to push the stress away again. I try to give him a smile, hoping to look nervous rather than unbelievably stressed. “I just… can’t wrap my head around it…especially who we’re touring with.” 

He gives me a look telling me that he doesn’t believe me and is slightly confused. I had never fully explained myself to Finn. He knows nothing about what’s truly been on my mind for the past few years. He doesn’t know who I write about in my lyrics. And there’s a reason for it. It’s utterly embarrassing and confusing for me to say any of it out loud. 

I wave him off with a small ‘it’s nothing’ before getting up and pacing around the tour bus. We were about a half hour away from the venue for the first show. I look at myself in the mirror and run back to my bag, deciding to change my outfit once more. I just want to feel good enough for first impressions with the band, so I can’t have myself thinking too much about my appearance. I look through my bag, look down at myself, then back at my bag. I grab my phone and check the weather before picking out a few pieces of clothing and walking back to the seating area, Cal now sitting with Finn. 

“Is Damien still sleeping?” I ask, my mind getting sidetracked, seeing all my bandmates but my drummer. 

“No, he’s in the back on his phone. Said something about needing quiet, as if he isn’t the one causing the noise most of the time” Cal replies with a snort, staring out the window at the passing scenery. I give him a nod before remembering what I was holding. 

“Okay, so. It’s going to be a little chilly out today, but I’m sticking to my skort and fishnets. Do I wear my sweater-” I say holding up my oversized knitted sweater, “Or my lace top with a cardigan?” I proceed to hold that pairing up. Cal turns to me and eyes both choices and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he visualizes what both outfits would look like, causing a small humorous smirk to form on my face. 

I glance towards Finn and he’s tapping a finger against his chin, before replying, “The sweater would be warmer, yeah?” and I give him a small shrug. “That one, then.” 

“Dude, I’m asking which would look cuter, not which I would survive better in,” I laugh. I love my band. I can fully say that I view everyone in the group as my family. My brothers. But it has reached a point where I am purely treated as a little sister and not their lead singer. 

I turn back to Cal as he’s still deep in thought, but he finally spoke. 

“I agree. But only because the lace top with the fishnets may clash, and the sweater still lets your neck tattoos show,” he answers as if I gave him a pop quiz. I roll my eyes with a smile before turning around and heading to change. I look at my outfit after, and agree with Cal. The short skort shows off my leg tattoos which I hate covering up, and the sweater covers enough to keep me warm, but shows off the cybersigilism tattoo on the front of my throat, the barbed wire on my left collar bone as it hangs down on that shoulder. The sleeves are a little too long, so I rolled them up enough so they aren’t going to get in the way, and so they show off the detailed skull on my left hand and the more cybersigilism print flowing onto my right. 

I give myself a final look over in the mirror, take account of if I’m comfortable enough, and if there’s anything I’m going to think too much about out of insecurity. Giving a small smile to myself in my reflection, I leave the bathroom and walk towards the front. 

“ETA 5 MINUTES” Damien shouted from behind me, both scaring me and bringing the dreaded stress and fear back into my body. I let out a small shriek and he laughs out an apology, patting my back as he passes me and goes to sit with the rest of the boys. With a long exhale, I sit down with them all as we pull down a dirt road and head towards the bus park. We have 3 hours until doors even open, so I let out a sigh of relief when I see no other buses around as our bus halts to a stop. Maybe I can eye this place out and find a good place to relax (aka finding good hiding spots to get away from everyone when things get too much.) 

I feel a small pat on my shoulder, waking me from my daze as the boys get up and start heading out of the bus. I stand and follow, trying my hardest to calm my nerves. If this was a situation where I was just a fangirl about to perform with her favorite band, this would be so much easier. But it’s so much more. 

We all step about and stretch our legs, finally feeling solid ground after hours and hours on a tour bus. Feeling better, I head off towards the venue, stopping as I notice something in the distance, towards the front of the venue. A group of people forming, causing a wave of confidence to rush over me. Even though I know most are here for Bad Omens, they’re here early. Meaning they still want to see our band, whether they know anything about us or are just open to new music. I let out a deep exhale. Maybe I can do this. I walk further until I’m heading in through the back doors. I eye up the green rooms and backstage. I search out all available bathrooms because it’s always good to know. And then I walk towards the actual stage, seeing where I will be performing today. I mentally start mapping out where everything will go and watching our show perform perfectly in my mind as a way of bringing some sense of comfort and stability to this stressful day.

Suddenly, I heard doors opening and footsteps behind me, making me jump, but when I turned around, I was thankful it was just the boys and our crew carrying our things in. I grab my custom mic stand, that I just had to splurge on for this tour because I for some reason thought it would help with my identity crisis of this whole thing, and walk with everyone onto the stage and help set up what I can. We thankfully have a large enough crew now that we had gotten bigger, so the boys and I are eventually able to walk away and scope out the area more. 

Once we finally felt settled in enough, knowing where everything we need is, we stepped outside for some fresh air and to let off some pent-up stress and emotions that we didn’t need on stage. 

A few feet from me, Finn and Cal are chatting about whatever the hell guitarists talk about, occasionally letting out their practice vocals, as they’re my backup vocalists for a few parts of songs, while Damien and I are doing an odd preshow ritual that we started way back when. I’m doing my vocal exercise, making sure my screams and growls are up to par for today, while also making sure I can hit my clean vocals well, with Damien letting me know if anything sounds too harsh. And while I do all of this, I have my hands extended out, palms up, with Damien beating on them lightly with a pair of drumsticks. It looks and sounds insane, but it’s a good exercise for both of us, as we need to be able to do our own thing while listening to the other to make sure we work together, but also so we don’t get distracted by external noise. 

We get so stuck in our own zone that we, or I guess mostly I, don’t even notice the other tour bus pull up close to ours. Damien stops beating on my hands, bringing me back to reality as I look up at him. I follow his eyes and land on the new bus in the lot. I instantly feel my heart and stomach drop down to my ass. My breathing stops as I see a few heads starting to file out of the bus. They don’t immediately see us, but when they do, they send a wave and a smile. 

At first, I only see long, slightly messy hair, instantly recognizing it as Jolly, Mr. Joakim Karlsson himself. Finn and I have talked about him a lot, just pure adoration of how he plays. Finn has even become good friends with him over the last few year, even helping us get this spot on the tour. Then I see one of the Nicks. Nick Folio, the drummer, causing Damien to instantly leave my side and immediately use his gift of being an extrovert to walk up and start chatting with him. Next to him was the other Nick, Nick Ruffilo, their bassist, who had the sweetest smile on his face as he waved to all of us, and I just couldn’t help but mirror his actions. 

But now, the stress was fully hitting me. It hit me that the only way I could get through today and even the rest of the tour was to do what I do best. Put on a complete front when stressed. It was what I’ve always done when I was in uncomfortable situations. Even in childhood, I could pretend to be someone who was completely not myself, just so no one would see what I was truly feeling. I know it’s going to throw my bandmates off guard, but they’ll catch on.  Unless I want to look like a maniac to the new group, I can’t let my true feelings show. 

As I was planning out in my head my plan, thinking of ways to make it foolproof, the man of the day stepped off the bus. With hair like Levi Ackerman, looking beautifully styled even though you could tell the only thing he’s done was run his hands through it. With his arm and throat tattoos on full display as if I were walking around a goddamn art piece. He looked ethereal. To me, at least. I now realized that I had once again fully stopped breathing and my heart was beating out of my chest. Before Noah could even glance my way, I slowly backed up toward Finn, letting him know that I was going to be right back, trying my hardest to sound okay and not cause any concern. With that, I sneakily slipped past him, praying that no one saw how suspicious it looked, and sped walked back towards the venue, to a bathroom as far out of reach as possible.

I walked in and locked the door behind me. My breath started picking up and I immediately did everything I could to stop a panic attack from fronting. I ran my hands under cold water, trying to shock my body back to reality. I did my breathing exercises. I did everything I could. But the second I glanced at myself in the mirror, it was as if I allowed my brain to go back in time. 

I couldn’t be happier right now. Finn and I were walking around a metal festival. I had just forced him to watch Erra’s set with me and now he was taking me to see a band he thought I’d like. He was excited to show them to me and I was just happy to be here, seeing bands I love and seeing new artists that I would absolutely be adding to playlists tonight. We stopped and stood in a spot where we thought would be perfect. There were a few people in front of us, but we were close enough to the barricade and stage that we could see the whole show perfectly. 

While we waited for their set to start, Finn and I chatted about the bands we had seen that day. We both mentioned a few we enjoyed that we never heard before, then talked about how some bands put on performances that we either loved or thought could have been a lot better. We even threw some ideas back and forth of what we saw and heard that could be implemented into our own shows. We were just joking, giggling, and having the best time. It was a little sad that we had to wait until the next day of the festival for Cal and Damien to join us, but I truly enjoyed spending today with just Finn, as I definitely felt closest to him out of all of them, knowing him a lot longer than the others.

We were talking about the lineup for tomorrow and what bands we wanted to see and who we wanted to show to Cal and Damien. I was mid-sentence when I heard people beginning to cheer around us, which brought a giant smile to my face, out of complete and utter love for the environment at concerts, and then to glance up at the stage, trying to see who had stepped out. It was the drummer. He was cute. He flashed the crowd a sweet smile, waving at everyone, before sitting behind his drum set. Then came the guitarist and bassist. I eyed all three up and down, a little shocked at how attractive everyone was, but knowing Finn, it made a lot of sense as to why he wanted to be so close to the stage. 

The three of them got everything ready, and I was about to turn to Finn to mention how hot they all looked when the voice in my throat died and my body stiffened as the lead singer walked on stage. No words could explain the feeling that overwhelmed my body as I saw that confident, long-haired man stand right before me. 

He started addressing the crowd, hyping everyone up, including Finn, but I didn't hear a single word he said. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t regain control over my body. I did my best to shake out the stiffness, trying my hardest to look like a normal person in the crowd, but there was nothing I could do to get my brain to start working again. 

I watched as he moved around the stage. I could see the love that he had for performing. But absolutely nothing could knock me out of the daze I was in. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. The emotions were so foreign. I completely forgot where I was after a while. The only thing my brain allowed me to focus on was him. Everything about him. I felt like an owl, using all my senses to focus on every single thing he did. I knew I probably looked like a madman, or at least I felt like one, but there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop myself. 

After some time, probably a few songs, he was closer to the crowd, looking through it as he sang, and we locked eyes for a moment. But it almost seemed like he did a double take, before forcing himself to go back to serenading the whole crowd after a few moments. It was most definitely because I looked utterly insane, but in that moment, I didn’t care. The feeling that shot through my body when we did make eye contact was like nothing I had ever felt before. 

Time moved by at such a weird pace in my daze, so before I knew it, the set was over and he was thanking the crowd and the festival for having them. As he bowed and was about to leave the stage, our eyes locked again, and a shiver was sent through my body. I saw him blink a few times before sending a final wave to the crowd and walking off stage. 

The second he was no longer in my line of sight, reality finally came back to me. I blinked a few times and let out a deep breath as if I had been holding it the entire time. Finn started talking and caught my attention, so I turned to him as if nothing happened. 

“So… what’d you think?’ he asked, nudging my arm with a smirk. I gave him the best fake smile I could before replying, “Oh, that was amazing. Why didn’t you warn me about how hot everyone was?” which caused him to let out a chuckle.

“I figured it would be a good surprise.” he shrugged out as we walked away from the stage and towards the next set. My mind was racing a mile a minute but I tried my best to keep my composure as we continued to talk.

“So, who was your favorite?” Finn randomly asked as we stood at a different stage, waiting for Of Mice and Men to start. 

“Uhh..” I trailed off, not wanting him to know I already had an answer. 

“It was Noah, wasn’t it.” he cut me off with a smirk. 

“Was that the-” 

“The singer? Yeah. I could totally see the heart eyes you got when I saw him look at you.” he laughed out, causing my face to redden. All I could do in response was nod. I mean, it’s a simple crush, wasn’t it? We all fall for random artists, so there’s no reason for me to feel weird about it. As long as I completely ignore the fact that what I just felt was nothing close to what I felt when I used to fangirl over boybands in middle school. 

A year later

‘This isn’t a normal crush.’ I kept repeating in my head. I was currently writing lyrics for new songs, trying to find emotions in me to write about, but all I could do was dwell on that feeling I got that day, and the feelings that came after it. 

I look at my paper filled with messy writing, which was surrounded by other papers of the same misfortune, all with the same thought behind it. One talking about losing control to a man who never knew me, another begging to “be his sweet dreams.” My eyes land on another, catching the words, ‘I want to feel your heartbeat on mine,’ causing me to let out a loud groan and fall back into my chair. I rub my hands down my face and let out a dry sob. I was so tired of this. I’ve become a fucking cliche.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Cal with a small sheepish smile on his face. He crouched down next to my chair and looked up at me. 

“Do you need some help?” I know he thinks my frustration is coming from the struggle of writing, and not who I’m writing about, and I’m going to keep it that way. 

“Please. I can’t keep looking at these. And if anyone could help me, it’s going to be the other hopeless romantic in this band.” I answer with a sad chuckle. He nods and motions me to stand up so he can sit at my desk. I do so, sitting in a chair a few feet away and just staring up at the ceiling as I hear him rustle the papers around. 

“Oh for fucks sake, dude, who the hell are you writing about,” he asks, thankfully rhetorically. He knows I never answer, the embarrassment being too much, so I just reply with a tired giggle and let him do what he can to fix this part of my mess. 

I blink a few times, finally back in the bathroom. Reality crashing into me, finally grounding me once again. My hands are cramping as I look down and see that I’ve been gripping the sink so harshly, I don’t know how I didn’t break it. I loosen my grip and stand up straight, shaking off my nerves. I take an actual look at myself in the mirror, fix my makeup with my finger a little, before taking a deep breath and unlocking the door, ready to at least confront today. I can deal with the future later. I run my plan in my head a little, deciding that I can at least pretend to be an extrovert for a little while, just to ease the awkward tension that I know will build if I keep acting this way. 

I walk back through the hallway of the venue, then outside, towards the group of guys who were all chatting, and let out one last exhale of stress before putting on my confident front and joining the rest of them. 

Thankfully, it seems I was gone for barely 10 minutes, as their crew bus wasn’t even here yet and they’re still chatting about interests and how they were happy to finally meet after talking for a few months. I walk close enough that I have now caught the attention of a few of them, and I give them the best confident smile that I can. I walk towards the other band of boys and give them a small wave. 

“You must be Joakim!” I say, him giving me a proud smile for using his real name, and I internally thank myself for pronouncing it correctly. He tells me to just call him ‘Jolly” as I give him a small side hug, feeling comfortable with him since I know that he and Finn have become good friends lately, and I would love to be one as well. I then face to his right. 

“And you must be the Nicks!” I say without trying to under or overdo my enthusiasm. “I am really happy to meet you all. Sorry I haven’t been as chatty over the phone as the others, but preparing for a tour kinda makes me a recluse.” I give them both a sheepish smile as I give my hands a squeeze, trying not to feel too embarrassed about completely ignoring them when the boys would chat with them. They both chuckle and tell me that it was all good since we’d be hanging out now, and that thankfully made me feel better, knowing they were falling for this fake extroverted version of me. 

Now here comes the hard part. I take the deepest breath I could through my nose so they can’t tell how hard this is for me. I take a few steps to their right and meet face-to-face with Noah. I hold my arms behind my back, knowing that my hands are definitely shaking right now, and give him a warm smile. 

“And you must be the famous Noah Sebastian.” I try giving him my warmest smile and a small nod of acknowledgment. His eyes show an emotion I can’t quite understand and his mouth parts slightly before closing and giving me a fake warm smile back. Almost completely mirroring mine. My stomach sours at the sight, fearing that he may already hate me, but maybe he is just nervous and trying to hide it as well. 

“And you must be Y/N.” my breath softly hitches as I hear his deep smooth voice, and it being directed towards me was causing small shivers down my spine. I play it as cool as I can and nod before he continues, now facing my whole band.

“We’re really excited to play with you guys. We’ve actually listened to Praising Deities for a while, even before Thomas and Jolly met. So I was super excited to hear that our teams were able to come together and make this happen. And I truly hope that we all enjoy spending the next few months together and become good friends.” He finishes, giving us all a warm smile, his eyes trailing over all of us, but lingering on me the longest, making my heart race.  

Finn, Calum, and Damien all thank him and continue on with compliments and getting to know the other band, Jolly and the Nicks responding back the same way. But that just left Noah and I alone in our own little worlds. We listened to the others chat about things, occasionally answering if someone asked us something, but we didn’t contribute much. I couldn’t get my mind away from the thought that I was barely a foot away from the man that has been infiltrating my thoughts daily for the past few years. 

At some point, I guess I had dazed off, overthinking everything and just staring down at the ground while everyone chatted. Who knows how long I did this before I felt someone to my left nudge me. I blinked a few times before turning to them, only for my eyes to widen slightly, seeing that it was Noah and that he was closer than ever before. He leans down until his face is near my ear.

“You alright?” He mumbles into my ear with a slight nervous strain, sending shivers down my spine, once again, at how deep his voice got when he was trying to keep quiet. I take a deep breath before giving a half-assed nod. He clears his throat, standing up straight, and then places a hand on my lower back, pushing me out of the crowd of our bandmates. I really didn’t know how to react other than letting my heart start racing again, so I just let him, until we were far enough from them that we could have our own conversation. When he stopped, I looked up at him, slightly confused. 

“I- uh I just figured you needed to get out of there. I was starting to get overwhelmed and saw you staring off in the distance, so I figured you needed a way out of there as well.” He answered my silent question, rubbing his tattooed hand on the back of his neck, almost looking shy. 

“Oh!” I let out a fake airy laugh. “ Yeah, I uh just have a lot on my mind… I was honestly waiting for our manager to come out and tell us to do our soundcheck, just something to get away from the questions. I..uh..it’s been a stressful day, so as much as I’d love to have a good chat with all of you, it’s probably going to have to wait until I’m more settled in with..all of this,” I finish, motioning to the tour busses and venue. He seems to be listening intently when I talk and gives me a small nod when I finished. 

“No, I get it. To be completely honest, I still get anxious on the first show of a tour..” he pauses for a moment, before looking like he had an idea. “Here. You go head inside, I’ll be right back.” He quickly moves towards his tour bus. I shoot him a confused look at his sudden excitement but realized he was already so far away, so I just do what he says and start walking back inside. On my walk in, I continue my deep thinking. How I’m actually really happy that I’m playing off my anxiety toward him super well, and was surprisingly able to have a conversation with him without freaking out. And I was especially thankful that he had more confidence than me, actually starting the conversation. Maybe I can survive this. Maybe I can get over all these weird feelings over the next few months. I mean, having a natural human conversation with him seems to be okay for me, so hopefully my brain will start seeing him as a normal everyday person…right?

Still deep in thought, I make it inside and head towards the backstage area. As I walk, my reflection catches my eye, and I turn and take a good look at myself in the full-length mirror they have in there. “I look sane enough” I quietly tell myself with a nod as I fix my outfit a little before letting out a deep breath, forcing the rest of the stress out of me. I’m glad I put extra thought into my outfit today. I know I’m gonna have days where I’ll just want to put something comfy on to perform, but with first impressions and it being the first day of the tour, I’m pretty proud of my appearance.

Since it was the first day, and I liked my look, I pulled out my phone and took a quick picture (or a few, trying to find the right pose) and then headed towards the couch. I open Instagram and click on the picture I like the most. One where my tattoos show and the lighting was good enough. Then I type, “Day 1 jitters slowly easing away. Can’t wait to see you all out there <3” in the caption, making a face at how that was somehow the best idea for a caption I could come up with, but not really caring and hitting post anyway, after tagging the band’s account. 

Almost instantly, I started getting likes and comments and was about to put my phone away until a few caught my eye. They all mentioned Noah. Some asking weird personal questions, some wanting to see how we were all getting along, and some even asking when a collab was happening, which made me chuckle. Then I saw a few with account names that had either ‘Bad Omens’ or ‘Noah’s’ in them and each had some snarky comment to make. One mentioning how I was probably sleeping around since I was going to be touring with 7 other boys, which I just rolled my eyes at. If it hasn’t happened yet, I doubt I was ever going to do anything like that. I don’t like mixing work and play, and I absolutely would never see any of my boys like that. The thought alone made me grimace. 

But then I thought about it more. I’m going to be spending the next four months with Bad Omens. I’m going to be spending the next four months with Noah. Singing my songs. The songs I wrote..about Noah. Fuck.  And Noah is currently on his way here by himself. We’re going to hang out by ourselves…Why did I let him tell me to wait in here? What happened when speaking to him that I just forgot about the debilitating obsession I got all those years back. Hell, what am I even doing here?

Almost as if on cue, the doors open and I hear a single pair of footsteps walk towards me. My knee began to bounce and I tried my best to hide my attention in my phone as he got closer.

“Hey,” he said softly, not needing to be any louder since it was just me in here. I looked up from my phone and saw that he brought a Nintendo Switch with him. I giggled as the sight brought me out of my mental battle. Such a large, tatted man, looking down at me with excitement as he held a colorful, handheld gaming device. He walked closer to me until he sat down about a foot from me and gave me a smile, which I mirrored back as authentically as I could. 

“Whenever my nerves are getting bad, I always force one of the boys to play with me until soundcheck. So I figured..” he trailed off as he motioned the switch towards me. I let out a small laugh before responding. 

“You know, that might actually help. Are you sure you don’t have anything you have to be doing? I don’t want to be using up your time-” 

“No! I mean… I have a lot of time. You guys still have, what? An hour? before soundcheck, and I can do everything I need during that time’ he rushed out, catching me a little off guard a little, causing me to giggle. 

“Okay. Okay. If you say so.” I laugh out as I reach my hand out. He gives me a smile and places the controller in my hand before setting the body of the switch on the table in front of us. We go back and forth deciding on what game to play and eventually just settle on Mario Kart. 

Finn

The boys and I chatted for a good 20 minutes or so, or what I thought was only 20 minutes, before we realized that Y/N and Noah never came back. I noticed first, then slowly the rest of them did, a few of us sending each other confused glances before Cal mentioned needing to look for them, as we probably had to get ready soon. I agreed and we all started walking back.

We all headed towards the door to the back of the venue, Damien being the one to open it. As soon as we stepped inside, we all heard arguing, causing a few of us to share concerned looks before speed walking towards the voices, leading us to the room backstage. The second we got close enough, we saw Y/N leaning over Noah, trying to knock a tiny switch controller out of his hands, as he was yelling about how she was cheating. 

“WHY’D YOU PICK RAINBOW ROAD FOR YOUR TURN, JACKASS! YOU OBVIOUSLY KNOW THE TRACK WELL! SO YOU’RE THE CHEATER!” Y/N yells, still occasionally elbowing Noah’s arm, but his tight grip on the controller and focus on the screen not faltering once. Noah’s laughing more and more every time she tries messing with him. 

“YOU’RE LITERALLY TOUCHING MY CONTROLLER! THAT’S AGAINST THE RULES!” Noah yells back as he starts shouldering her back into her spot. The boys and I just watch in awe as these two argue over a racing game, which I do fully understand, especially since I have played against Y/N before and boy, does she get competitive. I see Y/N catch us in the corner of her eye and she smirks. 

“Noah, the boys are here for you,” she tells him, and the second he glances up at us, she instantly smacks the controller out of his hands, it landing on the thankfully carpeted floor, and she lets out an almost evil cackle. Noah shouts as he loses the controller and immediately reaches for it as fast as he can. He sits back up, fumbling with the controller to get a good hold of it, and goes back to playing, only to let out a ‘WHAT THE FUCK’ which causes her to laugh even harder. 

“I WAS IN SECOND PLACE AND NOW I’M IN TENTH,” Noah shouts towards her before turning towards us. “She is vicious!” he warns us, causing all of us, but mainly Cal, Damien and I to just laugh because if anyone already knew that, it was us. Damien and Ruffilo walk closer to them, standing on each side of them, watching as they finish the race. I can tell by the teasing scowl on Ruffilo’s face and the excitement in Damien’s that Y/N was winning. After a few moments, with Noah and Y/N looking like they were both about to fall out of their seat, Y/N jumps up and Noah falls back as Damien and Y/N cheer and high-five each other. The boys and I all clap for her and she gives an over-the-top bowing performance, before turning to Noah, who’s throwing a fake pity party. This causes her to sit back down and try to ease her laughter. 

“Awe, I’m sorry, Noah,” she says with a fake pout. He lets out a huff in response, causing her to have to stifle a giggle. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the stage manager walking towards us, and I look over to Y/N. The movement catches her eye as well as she glances at us, getting the hint that we need to head for soundcheck. She stands and walks around Noah so he’s looking at her and leans down. 

“I’ll make this up to you next time,” she tells him with a smile as she turns and walks away, Damien following her. As I was about to turn to follow, I managed to catch Noah’s eyes trailing down Y/N’s body, eyeing up her tattoos, and then just her, as she walked away. I had to hold back a snicker as Cal and I walked away from the group and headed on stage.

Part Two

[dreamingofep]

Forbidden Love pt. 11 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem! reader]

TW: cussing, angst, tension

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Hi everyone! Haven’t posted anything for this one in a bit! Sorry about that! This one only has 2 chapters left so I’ll be posting more soon. These pics make me feel like a puddle🫠Hope you like this next part.

🖤

After a week and a half of staying with him, you were quite comfortable. Without even trying, Elvis was your home. You had never felt so at peace before. Things would never be the same now. You tried just being friends with him and time and time again, it doesn’t work. You needed each other on a different level and couldn’t stay away. You weren’t sure how you two were going to pull this off, but you weren’t going to give up just because it was getting hard.

For the most part, you two hadn’t hadn’t had any roadblocks yet. You were still careful in the house and always made sure the house was empty before walking around freely. Elvis convinced Dianne to keep staying at her sister's for the next few weeks. That didn’t stop her from calling every day. It irked you how Elvis would continuously answer the phone without fail and feed into her every last whim. Nothing ever came of those empty promises he would make to her but it drove you crazy. You tried not to make an argument out of that situation. You had to remind yourself that you had him all to yourself, not her.

On the other hand, you know you need to make decisions. You needed to talk to John about a ton of things that were bothering you but you needed to start with what he was doing with all the money he was getting paid. It agitated you that he was pissing away all the money he was earning and he couldn’t even make rent.

On a quiet Friday evening, you look at the clock and see it is almost time for dinner. You change into a nicer dress, which Elvis kindly bought for you. Being around Elvis so much made you dress nicer than you ever had. He was always dressed to the nines no matter the time of day. But he didn’t want you going back to your apartment if John was going to be there. He knew John would try to make you feel bad for leaving and try to get you to stay somehow.

A quiet knock on the door makes you look up and you feel your heart flutter.

“Come in.” You say quickly as you go to the closet to put on some cute heels.

Elvis walks in looking down at the floor, looking damn good in a brown suede jacket and red scarf draped on his neck. As good as he looks, you can’t ignore how his eyes are timid and full of pain when he finally looks at you. Something is wrong. His face always lights up when he sees you.

“What’s wrong Elvis?” You ask him stopping in your tracks.

He takes a long, ragged breath before speaking,

“Dinner is ready,” he says quietly. He still won’t look at you, his eyes burning a hole in the carpet at this point. You grew wary and didn’t understand what brought on this behavior.

“Elvis, are you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, come on,” he says quietly, opening the door for you.

You both make it to the dining room table and Elvis pulls your chair out for you. The uncomfortable silence only grew. You two didn’t normally mind silence but this was completely different. He sits at the head of the table and you are to the right of him. Both of your plates sit there steaming, not a word spoken.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” You say sharply.

“Please, eat dinner, we can talk after,” he says coldly.

“No, I can’t eat if you won’t even look at me! What’s going on?” Your mind races at what could be the problem. Your head only makes up the worst-case scenarios and it doesn’t do your nerves any good.

“Umm, well-, I really don’t want to tell you this because it’s going to hurt you but you need to know,” he says carefully.

“Okay, tell me, I can handle it,” you try to say strongly but you are too nervous.

“I did some digging… I wanted to know what John was up to and where the money I’ve been paying him was going,” he explained.

“Oh, okay, did you find out what’s going on?”

A part of you didn’t want to know. You didn’t want to hear the shady behavior he was being a part of. But if you were to end this, like you’ve been wanting to for some time, it would be best to have a clear understanding of what kind of person he’s become.

“He’s been late coming here to work pretty much every day that he’s started working for me. I don’t like that one bit. Then a few weeks ago, you came to me crying about his behavior and that really upset me. I hate seeing you like that. So I knew I needed to figure out what was going on with him too,” he says low. He looks behind his shoulder before continuing, making sure it is just you two in the room.

“Honey I-, I followed him one day when he said you called and needed him to come home right away. I knew that was bullshit because you were filming that day, not at home waiting for him,” he snarls. His tone makes the hair in your arms stand up. You could feel how much he didn’t like John in this moment. How strongly he felt for you…

“So I followed him and he was in a neighborhood in Bel Air and-,” he grabs your hand, his breathing shaky as he tries to go on, “he pulled up to this house and this woman was standing out on the porch waiting for him… I saw them kiss and-, that’s all I needed to see to understand what was going on… I’m really sorry honey.” He says as he shakes his head.

You felt numb. You weren’t sure if you should be angry, sad, annoyed, or everything in between. You knew things were not good between you two already, but the confirmation that he was doing this for God knows how long still hurt to hear. You wanted to have this blind faith in people that they can be good. John was not a part of that percentage though. He was an opportunist. Someone gave him attention when you weren’t so he clung to that attention until he was tired of it.

“Fucking bastard,” you mutter under your breath. He looks at you a little shocked, not expecting such an outburst.

“Did you know?” He asks gently.

“I always had a feeling. We stopped making time for each other and everything went downhill these last few years. I can say I’m not the least surprised,” you tell him.

“Baby I’m sorry you’ve felt like this. It’s just awful. You have no idea how hard it was to not get out of my car and beat the hell out of him for putting you through all of this,” he grits through his teeth. Your body stiffens at his tone, he had never talked this way around you and threw you by surprise. You squeezed his hand momentarily, trying to assure him you’re okay.

“You deserve better honey,” he says low. His eyes have that sensual heavy look to them, burning their way into your skin. You felt on fire and you couldn’t say anything to assure him that you’re going to be okay. It did hurt to hear your worst fears have come true so you couldn’t lie that you were completely unphased.

“It’s okay, I’ll be okay,” you say shakily.

“I’m so sorry honey,” he murmurs, kissing the back of your hand. He’s so overcome with emotion and you can see how he’s trying to make the situation better. He pulls at your hand slightly to get you closer to him. You stand up from your chair and sit on the corner of the table, looking at him with concern.

“I’ll take care of you, honey, don’t worry about a thing,” he assured you.

That’s everything you wanted to hear from him. You wanted him to take care of your every need.

“I know,” you whisper, your breath wavering.

You didn’t want to cry about it and didn’t want to think about John anymore. You wanted Elvis to distract you from real life. LA was not very forgiving and kept giving you one struggle after another.

Elvis kept looking at you like he was about to rip your clothes off and as much as you would love that, you didn’t want to do that here.

“Get me out of here,” you tremble.

His face flashes a bit of concern, “what do you mean baby?”

“Just get me out of here. I don’t want to be in LA, let’s leave for Vegas tonight,” you plead.

He nods his head and stands up, pulling you into his arms and holding you there.

“It’s okay baby, it’s going to be okay. Go pack your bag, I’ll take care of everything,” he coos, leaning down and kissing you.

You sigh into his mouth and hold onto him tighter. This was exactly what you needed. You needed his lips on you soothing all your worries away. He gets carried away easily, his hands squeezing at your hips, wanting you completely. You want to let him take care of you and have you forget about anything else that might’ve troubled you.

The sound of the front door opening scared you out of your skin and you quickly pushed yourself away from him, turning your back to whoever just walked in.

“Hey EP I-.”

You recognize that voice instantly and freeze. No no no this cannot be happening.

“Y/n?” They say.

You slowly turn around and face John, your stomach dropping looking at him. You stay silent, there was nothing to say to him. Not after how he’s treated you and not after the revelation Elvis told you tonight.

“Where have you been?” He asks you a bit coldly.

“I’ve been here,” you say stiffly.

John looks at Elvis, shocked at your admission.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Elvis has a pompous look on his face before answering and you find it amusing, “you didn’t ask,” he says flatly.

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were?” John says giving you an annoyed look.

“I didn’t feel like you would care.”

“Really!? So you just disappear for a few weeks and I don’t have the right to know where you went?!” He says raising his voice.

You were over his attitude and couldn’t be here a minute longer.

“I know you don’t love me anymore, I’ve known it for quite some time now. I don’t need to answer to someone who doesn’t care about me,” you scowl.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters under his breath.

You glance over at Elvis and see he has the same smug look on his face.

“You were about to go pack your things, right honey? Why don’t you go finish that,” Elvis tells you with a smile. You glance at John and see the disgust he has on his face when he hears Elvis call you honey. To most people, it’s a harmless Southern thing. But John hated it and always has. He must have felt threatened in some way and it always stuck with him.

You thought that was a great idea Elvis proposed though. Anything to get you away from John. You could barely be in the same room as him without blowing up on him. You start to make your way to the bedroom when John starts moving in your direction.

“Woah honey, where do you think you’re going,” he snaps, grabbing your arm to still you. He grabbed you too roughly and looked down at how tight his hand was around your forearm. You pull your arm away from him and look at him shocked. You see red marks where his fingers were and it disgusts you.

“Get your hands off of me!” You snarl. You never wanted to feel his hands touch your skin ever again. It made you so angry with not knowing how long he’s had this affair and how he would still come home and touch you. Elvis is quick to act and steps between you two, his large stature blocking you easily from John.

“You need to relax, right now,” he says through his teeth.

“What’s your problem EP?! You're always so defensive when it comes to her.” He says annoyed

“You don’t need to grab her like that,” he spits back. John takes a step back from him and crosses his arms against his chest, analyzing Elvis in front of him.

“You’re awfully fond of my wife, aren’t you?” He scowls.

Elvis hums softly to himself, amused with such a question.

“I am, always have been, are you?” He questions, cocking his head as he sizes up John.

Your heart hammers away at the challenge. You didn’t think Elvis would say such a thing to John but you can tell he was just as mad as you were over this whole thing.

“Excuse me?!” John exclaims.

“It’s a pretty simple question, are you fond of your wife?” Elvis asks again, anger flowing off of him in waves.

“You’re ridiculous! How dare you question my feelings!”

“You haven’t asked anyone where she’s been! You couldn’t give a shit about anything she does!”

“I do! She’s my wife. You don’t need to defend her shitty behavior.”

Elvis chuckles, “Oh you’re one to talk,” he snaps.

Your heart drops, oh this isn’t good. You’d never think Elvis would confront John about all of this. You look over at John and see how his face lost color and he’s looking at Elvis mortified.

“I know, I know all about where you’ve been sneaking off to. So you have some audacity to yell at her for running to a friend when her husband is being a pathetic excuse of one,” Elvis snarls. John takes another step back, weak and aghast.

Elvis takes a step closer to him, not letting him cower down. “You’re done workin’ for me. I don’t want you near me either. You’re fuckin’ toxic for anyone to be around you.”

He turns around to find your frightened eyes and not sure what to do.

“Go wait in my car, we’re going,” he says sternly.

You lower your eyes and quickly go to the front door. You couldn’t look at Elvis when he was so upset. His eyes seared through you and could have killed you. You reach the door and Elvis’ voice makes your hair stand up.

“And she’s not yours, she never has been. Don’t you dare ever utter those words again.” He growls.

Shit.

You rush out to the driveway and go towards Elvis’ Cadillac. There are some of the guys standing outside with questioning looks on their faces. You grew extremely nervous and anxious with their deafening stares.

“Elvis wants to go to Vegas tonight,” you say sheepishly. They don’t move or say anything but their attention gets turned to the booming of Elvis’ voice coming from the house and the sound of thing breaking inside. He was over the edge and fuming. They don’t make a move, knowing better than to get in the way of Elvis when he’s mad.

Elvis bursts through the front door and looks beside himself.

“We’re going to Vegas tonight. Call in a plane for us,” Elvis demands. Everyone starts to scramble and you quickly get in the car. Elvis puts the key in the ignition and rushes out the gates. The radio blares on a famous LA radio station and it was one of Elvis's songs. You didn’t recognize the tune, it must have been one of his newer songs. A pang of guilt hits you when you realize it’s been well over a month and you still haven’t listened to his new album.

We’re caught in a trap

I can’t walk out

Because I love you too much baby…

Only the first few lines are played before Elvis frustratedly shuts the radio. You stay silent the whole ride to LAX. You were holding onto the door handle the whole way with how fast he was driving. You both get to the airport in record time and he opens your door for you.

A small charter jet was waiting on the tarmac for you two and Elvis led you into the cabin. The engines were roaring and the captain was waiting for Elvis’ call to take off. He sits next to you and holds your hand on his lap. You hold on as the plane starts to take off and slowly ascend into the sky.

After a few moments, you gently caress his face and make him look at you. His anger subsided and all that was left was the look of defeat. You hated seeing him like that and it was because of you in a way. You lean in and kiss his lips, savoring the moment. He sighs into your touch and he places his hand on your cheek. There wasn’t any rush with your kisses, they were just soft and tender. His hands scorched into your skin, clouding any thoughts of the consequences of doing this with him.

“Take care of me,” you whimper pulling at his scars around his neck.

He nods his head and groans at the proposal you gave him.

“Of course, you know I will,” he breathes, pulling you onto his lap.

You instantly wrap your arms around his neck and let your fingers intertwine in his soft hair. Your lips crash into his and the once soft, tender kisses you began giving him soon turned into intense, fiery, needy ones.

You felt lightheaded by the way he was kissing you and how his hands kept drifting up and down your thigh. You wanted him to make all your problems disappear and never get out of his arms. It felt like a whirlwind these last few hours and if you had found out all of that on your own, you don’t know how you would’ve handled it. But something about having Elvis back in your life made you handle things differently. It was complicated, yes, but you would never change a thing that’s happened. He was exactly what you needed.

*

Once you landed and a car picked you two from the airport, it discreetly took you to the International. Elvis was explicit that he wanted his arrival to be discrete and gain no attention. He technically wasn’t supposed to arrive for another two days so the hotel was not ready for him. You were so nervous being here with him. All you needed was one camera to take a picture of you next to Elvis and it would be all over the front pages of magazines.

You ride the elevator all the way to the penthouse and have a sigh of relief once you know you’re out of the view of an onlooker. Elvis loosely keeps his arm around your hip, making sure you aren’t going anywhere. The suite's double doors had his name on a gold plaque in black letters. He opened the door for you and you can’t believe the grandeur of the room. It screamed Elvis everywhere you looked. The heavy black curtains were open and the whole front wall was windows overlooking the loud, boisterous city. There was a piano directly in the middle of the windows and the couches were black velvet and looked plush.

You explore the suite, leaving Elvis in the front room as he makes a phone call. Every room in here was decorated with the most lavish things and you could see how they did as much as possible to accommodate Elvis. You quickly find the master suite and and sit on the edge of the bed.

The world felt heavy on your shoulders and you thought being so far from home would help but it didn’t. You can’t help but think about what was next. Would you get a lawyer and get divorce papers? How long do you stay with Elvis? Would he be willing to take your relationship to another level? There was too much swirling in your head and none of it was going to be easy. A few tears fall down your cheeks thinking of the uncertainty of your life.

And that comment Elvis man before you left the house..

She’s not yours, she never has been…

Did he always want to be with you? Or did he say that just to get under John’s skin? You wish you hadn’t heard that part because now you need it to be true and be his.

You see a shadow approach from the doorway and sniffle.

His eyes look hurt when he looks at you. He hates seeing you like this.

“Baby,” he murmurs walking to you.

You stand up when he’s in front of you to hug him. You needed to wrap your arms around him and feel that sense of safety that you do with him.

“Everything is going to be alright. You have nothing to worry about,” he reassures you.

“Thank you,” you manage to squeak out

“I’ll take care of everything and have some new clothes come in for you. We’ll figure everything out together.”

You lift your head from his chest and pull him back toward the bed.

“Can you lay with me, just for a little while?” You ask.

His lips curve into a little smile, “anything for you.”

•

•

•

Tagging:

@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister@velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley@chasingwildflowers

@dontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog @louisejoy86@misspresley@cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway@gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

[taniahylian]

Tristes tropiques: The worst chapter in Reverse 1999

Alright, so I’ve wanted to talk about ch8 of the main story since I’ve finished it because it’s, imo, the worst drop in writing quality we’ve seen in the game so far. It has a lot of inconsistencies, things that aren’t explained or happen off-screen, and the emotional segments are rushed/not impactful enough, and about characters we’ve barely seen (excluding Anjo Nala, who is the best part of the chapter imo). Now, as you can see, this will be quite a negative take, so if you liked this chapter, please don’t let me ruin your fun lol. Also, it’ll have spoilers, so be warned.

Part 1: The representation.

Alright, had to get this out of the way first because it’s what everyone is talking about. The representation.

Is the representation bad? Yes. Really, really bad if we compare it with literally all other stories in the game. To put things in perspective, imagine if in the Notes of Shuori event nothing changed but they clamed this was Japan instead of China, yet characters still spoke in Chinese, had Chinese names, and many of the references were Chinese. That would have been outrageous, wouldn’t it? Well, that’s basically what happened here but with Brazil and other Latin American countries.

What they tried to do, basically, was dump all of Latin America (you, know a region that’s bigger and more diverse than Europe) into one singular “culture” and put this in fictional Sao Paulo. Why do I say that? Because many of the words they use for different things are in Spanish, and many characters speak in Spanish, have Spanish-sounding names, and reference things from other countries in Latin America. Also, one of the npcs, whose name I don’t care to remember, is literally a walking Mexican stereotype. To me what this says is that they didn’t do any research at all about Brazil (for those of you who don’t know, they speak Portuguese and are also far enough away from Mexico that these two cultures aren’t really comparable); enough that they couldn’t get even the language right, or even the geography or the Sao Paulo landscape, judging by what I’ve seen being said by Brazilian players.

Remember when they accurately portrayed the Secession building in Vienna? Or Jantar Mantar in Mor Pank? Or how they usually have characters speak small phrases in their native language, which is appropriate to the region and their character? Well, Bluepoch doesn’t, apparently.

Then there’s the whole “life here is hell, this is hopeless and everything here sucks” aspect of their portrayal of Sao Paulo (and their infamous tweet). This feels especially disrespectful when the story so far has always had quite a good amount of nuance. Vienna for example, having the contrast of being the “city of freedom”, yet having such a strict oppression of arcanists. Or San Francisco, having such a huge poverty and gang problem, yet still portraying the people living in these conditions as actual humans with hopes and dreams that they sometimes were able to accomplish.

And finally, to wrap up this representation thing… it feels disrespectful that the only Brazilian character we get is Mr. Duncan. Mainly because it seems he’s not really Mr. Duncan, but actually Mr. Karson. You know, an English man. I think they should’ve made Lopera Brazilian because so far having her be from Colombia adds nothing to the story, and if she was from Sao Paulo it’d make a lot more sense for her to be Vertin’s guide/translator in the city.

Okay, so that’s what we get from the representation in this chapter, which is pretty bad (haven’t read Anjo’s character story, which I’ve heard is better in this aspect, but that’s not actually part of ch8, so I excluded it). However, honestly I wouldn’t mind that much if the story had at least been good. So… let’s talk about that next, shall we?

Part 2: The story.

The good.

Okay, first let’s get the good things out of the way, because I don’t want to sit here and pretend that everything about this chapter was bad; that would be unfair and disingenuous.

I liked Lopera and Molly. They were interesting characters and have a lot of potential for the future of the story, which I really hope they deliver in future chapters.

I liked White Rum; she’s a funny character, and the concept of an Awakened pirate ship that has the skeletal hand of her former captain (Anne Bonnie, my favorite pirate of all time) is quite an interesting and unique idea, and I wish we got more characters like this. Also, I need to see her interact with Regulus lol.

I absolutely adored Anjo Nala. She’s the highlight of the story for me; an interesting, complex, and adorable character with a lot of potential for stories to tell, both about her past and her future. I really became attached to her over the course of this story, and I think they did a good job making you care for her… in this specific chapter. Don’t look back at versions 2.0 and 2.1 if you don’t want to get your fun ruined, because consistency is something they didn’t care about at all while writing this patch. And that brings us to…

The bad.

Buckle up my friends because what’s bad about this chapter is really, really, REALLY bad. Consistency is something they don’t believe in anymore, retcons are on the market, and setting up characters/settings/relationships is a thing of the past.

Does it sound like I’m being too harsh? Maybe, but it’s deserved, so idc.

Let’s start from the least bad, shall we? Anjo Nala’s hunger. In 2.0 and 2.1, as well as the first of Anjo’s monologues (the things you unlock after getting traces of a specific character), it’s implied that she can’t eat human food. Not that she doesn’t find it satisfactory, or that she doesn’t like it. It’s heavily implied she literally can’t eat it.

But then she steals some bread and Vertin gives her chocolate, and she eats both, so… what’s up with that? Also, they never really explain what her hunger is for. Was it really just normal human food? Or something else? In her trailer (which btw I wouldn’t consider it part of the main story because it’s a freaking trailer, but whatever) she “feeds on someone’s love” by using her tail. Okay, but then that person turns into a “walking corpse”. Does she have to do that every time she’s hungry? What happens if she doesn’t? Is human food substitute enough? The game never answers these questions, which is a mistake because this whole thing is a central part of Anjo’s character, as well as her turning from her bloodthirsty self to the Anjo we meet in this chapter.

And this brings us to my second issue… the inconsistency of Anjo’s character with the two events we had before this patch. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying anything she ever did was her fault since she was simply a slave following orders, and one thing that is consistent about her character is that she doesn’t like when people do give her orders. However, what really annoys me is how in 2.0 she was very bloodthirsty. Sure, she didn’t know J and his gang, and she had done these types of jobs before, but imo it would’ve been more consistent with the other patches if she was indifferent about killing them, rather than excited. 2.1 was slightly more consistent with ch8 when it comes to Anjo’s character, but it’s kind of implied it was all an act, and her “real” personality was that of 2.0.

Now, I’ve seen some ppl explain this as “well, in a wilderness interaction she says she acts however her master prefers her to”. Okay, but why put such important information in a freaking wilderness interaction and not in the main story??? You can’t even see those unless you have the character, and seeing as Anjo is limited, not everyone will have her. This is a fact.

Another problem I have with Anjo (this is the last, I promise) is that we’re not introduced to her again in ch8, which surely is a decision. Why? Because 2.0 and 2.1 aren’t part of the main story; they’re side events, which are time-limited and, at the moment, not available in-game. This is a problem because anyone who didn’t play those events for one reason or another will be very confused by Anjo Nala and how Vertin reacts to her. It would’ve been better if we were introduced to her from the pov of Lopera, for example, when she raided the Manus base and captured her. And then we could have Vertin run into her on the ship and explain to Sotheby (with a little more detail than what we got) that she actually met her before.

I’m just saying, this isn’t the first time we got a character in a main chapter that had been previously introduced only in an event (Marta/Bessmert), but in that case, if you missed the event, you could still fully enjoy the main chapter, because you wouldn’t even know that you were missing information. That’s not the case here.

And speaking of Urd… okay, let’s talk about how little sense it makes for the Foundation to want to find her in this chapter. In ch5 Vertin and her team found a suspicious radio that talked about a travel note about Aperion written by someone named “Urd”. In this case it makes sense for them to want to investigate, since the base Ms. Radio was in had things that belonged to the Manus, and they found some Manus followers there as well. Even after ch5 and everything that happened, it still makes sense for Vertin to want to keep looking for Urd because now she has the suspicion, based on what 6 said, that Urd is her mother.

However, although it makes sense for Vertin to want to find Urd, it doesn’t make sense for the freaking Foundation to want to find some random UTTU editor. Because that’s really all Urd is, isn’t she? She’s not the head of UTTU (that’d be Pandora), and the fact that she can traverse the storm, which is the only reason we’re given in ch8, is shared among all UTTU editors, as we learn from Barbara.

But even if we assume the Foundation wants to know how UTTU keeps its editors safe… first of all, why? We already have the equilibrium umbrellas, don’t we? We spent a whole chapter seeing their creation, and even saw ppl die for this cause. Why would they need yet another method for surviving the storm? If they instead suspected UTTU to be involved with the Manus somehow, and that’s how they’re traversing the storm, then at least give us that!

Furthermore, the Foundation already knew where she was! They were the ones who gave her the white marble chair with a button! If they just wanted to speak with her, surely a simply call would’ve sufficed? Why send Vertin?

And that’s another thing! Constantine knows Vertin’s mom, and I'm sure she’s not the only one in the Foundation who does, yet the Foundation tried to cover it up and tell Vertin that she doesn’t have a mother. Clearly they have some motivation for keeping it hidden, right? Then… why send Vertin specifically to search for Urd? Why not send some other random investigator, preferentially one with experience finding ppl? Why Vertin???

If Vertin had gone out of her own will, like in ch5, I’d have no problem with this, but no; the Foundation sent her this time. And I just can’t bring myself to understand why.

Maybe if Urd isn’t Vertin’s mom, that would explain this, but for now this makes no sense at all.

Next I want to talk about Lopera and Molly’s relationship. I said before that I truly liked their characters and their relationship, which is true, but… I wish it had been better stablished. Why? Because we had only had one, one single scene, of them together and the suddenly there was a grand betrayal and we’re supposed to feel bad for Lopera? Lmao.

If I felt slightly bad for Lopera it was because of the voice acting, the music and the art. I can assure you, not one single ounce of those feelings came from the actual story being told. It’s even worse when it comes to Igor because he barely exchanged words with Lopera, and all we know from their relationship comes from Lopera telling us “he’s better than my biological father”. And let’s not talk about Ptoleme. He literally only appeared to be a jerk for like five minutes and neither Molly nor Lopera seem to care much about him. How are we supposed to care about that entire family? They really don’t feel like a family at all (except for Lopera and Molly, but even then, it’s the bare minimum this chapter could do with this concept).

It would’ve been so much better if we had this whole chapter to stablish Lopera’s relationship with her adoptive family, with Zeno, the veterans and the Sao Paulo community, and then in the next chapter we could have the big betrayal be more impactful. But here? We barely spent any time with these characters!

And then we have the actual betrayal scene, which is… nonsensical. At best.

What happened in it? Molly arrived at the Colonel’s manor with her squad of Zeno soldiers and attacked the few Apostles Brotherhood ppl that remained, then says she’s glad that Lopera was able to rescue Dr. Dores and that they should all go back to the base. None of this is suspicious, imo, because Vertin had already told Lopera that she was going to call Zeno for reinforcements, specifically to assist with the rescue of Dr. Dores. It’s true that Molly hesitates a little when Lopera asks “what about the timekeeper?”, and that she dismisses Lopera’s concerns about evacuating Sao Paulo, but imo this shouldn’t be enough for Lopera to be so suspicious of her freaking sister. Also, why ask “who’s waiting for you in Tierra del Fuego”? Why would Lopera every think this was anything other than a mission from Zeno???

Sure, they didn’t tell her about it, but also she’s been gone from the base for a couple of days and she knows there’s been traitors and rebels. A lot could’ve changed in that time. Even if she didn’t want to leave because she got attached to Sao Paulo, I think it’s weird that she immediately was so confrontational about it, especially with her sister, who famously just follows their father’s orders without questions.

This could’ve worked if Lopera was already suspicious of her family beforehand, or maybe even of Zeno’s higher ups, or if Molly and her squad had just waltzed in without attacking the Manus or being attacked by them. But that’s not what happened. Also, if she really was suspicious, why not go back to the base and question Igor about this whole thing like Molly suggested? I don’t see why she immediately would think base=bad when her whole family and the army she’s part of is currently at the base.

Like, I get she already had trauma because of her biological father being a jerk, but that situation doesn’t seem to have anything to do with this one imo. All in all, what I’m saying is that the bad writing of this scene lessens the emotional impact.

And it’s not the only emotional scene that’s affected by the blatant bad writing in this chapter. No, that “honor” goes to the scene the trailer for this patch opens with; Anjo being ordered to kill Vertin by Ptoleme.

Okay, so as a refresher, Igor requests that his son, Ptoleme, is sent to the base because “he can only trust in his children because they always obey him”. Okay, so then what does Ptoleme do when ordered to bring back Kimberly, preferentially without a fuss? Of course, cause the biggest scene imaginable, which leads to Kimberly being freed.

Now, I wouldn’t be so harsh on him if his actions were reasonable but due to circumstances led to an unfavorable outcome for him, but that’s not what happened. Okay, he ordered Anjo to kill Vertin. Whatever, he’s a sadistic asshole, but this at least kinda makes sense. What makes no sense whatsoever is that he not only gave Vertin a gun because “he won’t shoot an unarmed civilian” (why does he care? Also ultimately he orders Anjo to kill her, so he wouldn’t have shot an unarmed civilian anyways), but also that he kept trying to make Vertin shoot Anjo.

Why? Just why? There was no reason for him to want Vertin to kill Anjo. None at all. And if what he wanted was to convince Anjo to kill Vertin… he can’t play both the “I’ll free you if you kill her” and the “Vertin, kill her, she’s a monster” cards at the same time. It makes him look like a pathetic moron with no sense of reality whatsoever, and in retrospective makes Igor look like a bigger idiot who doesn’t know his children at all. I think the reason they did this is because they wanted to replicate the infamous orange scene from ch2, but without all the logic, lore and emotional impact behind it, just hoping players would feel emotions by association.

And finally, we come to my biggest complain about this chapter: the retcon about how the storm works. Because yes, it is a retcon. Why do I say that? Mainly based on ch6.

In ch6 we learn that Heinrich, in 1912, left Vienna to study at Berlin. There, he met the Manus and joined them, surviving that storm, and subsequent ones, until time returned to 1913 and he went back to Vienna, reuniting with his old friends and telling them about the storm.

Now, how is this relevant? Well, from Heinrich’s story we learned two things; 1) you can indeed see again someone who was once reversed by the storm, but only if time ever goes back to that era, and 2) The fact that his friends recognized him and he recognized his friends, and his friends’ existence was consistent even though the storm had once reversed them. You see where I’m going with this, don’t you?

At the end of ch8, Vertin says “the storm doesn’t kill ppl, at least not physically”. Okay Vertin, did you have a lobotomy between chapters? The storm has never killed ppl; it’s just the end of an era, remember? It reverses time! It’s in the freaking name! The scariest part about the storm isn’t the storm itself, but the storm syndrome, which is when most casualties seem to happen. Sure, the storm sucked for Vertin because she kept traversing eras and losing the friends she made in them, but those friends remained anchored in their own time (perhaps with the exception of ppl who had already crossed the storm at least once, like The Ring and Isabella, but I digress).

My point is, that I really don’t like where this retcon is headed, but I do hope they somehow fix it in the future, either by making it clear that not everyone who gets reversed is reincarnated and there’s very strict conditions that should be met (like having knowledge about the storm, for example), or this hypothesis is wrong and the storm isn’t actually making ppl reincarnate.

One reason I especially don’t like this new reincarnation thing is that… Mr. Duncan isn’t Mr. Karson. Let’s not lie to ourselves. He looks nothing like Mr. Karson (and I wish the game would stop gaslighting me), doesn’t act like Mr. Karson, doesn’t speak like Mr. Karson, and doesn’t even have the same nationality as him! The only things that are similar about them is that they’re both old war veterans who once had a dog and now have a soft spot for young ladies. And if this is the approach they’ll use to bring back characters in the future… thanks, but I’d rather they stayed reversed.

Think about it! Will they next say that Anjo is Schneider? They look similar enough (more similar than Duncan and Karson, that’s for sure!), both were antagonists that joined the manus for reasons beyond their control, both had a fight with Vertin in which they almost got killed, and both have a snake bracelet on their left arm. Surely that’s enough to say they’re one and the same, according to this logic!

My point is that using such simple similarities, they can literally invent any new character they want and then say “this is actually this other character, who was once reversed by the storm”, regardless of if they’re actually similar at all, and I don’t think that people who wanted them to bring back Schneider or Marian, or Mr. Karson, or 888, or literally anyone, wanted them to be brought back like this.

But that’s enough of me ranting lol. What do you think? Did you like this chapter? What are your main complains about it?

To be clear I’m not saying we should stop playing the game or anything like that; from what I’ve heard the next event is actually good, and I have faith Bluepoch will listen to the players and make sure ch9 is better than whatever ch8 was, but it’s precisely this why it is important for us, as players, to speak out when we don’t like something so that Bluepoch knows they can’t get away with such blatant drops in quality.

Now, if you somehow made it to the end, thanks for reading!