#i can't reply to comments but feel free to ask for the taglist there and ill add u!

[graveantics]

Move on bro 𖤓 Diluc. R

y/n tries to move on from highschool crush diluc, but fate keeps pulling on those goddamn strings.

meet the cast !

⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊

warnings 𖤓 adult jokes, mischaracrerization, cringe but free, non native english, very innacurate depiction of college

status 𖤓 updating

taglist 𖤓 open

Chapters 𖤓

wife

pond | ✎

welcome to the family

smoke bomb

toilet milk

hopes up

sleepover

[seraphicloves]

𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: your family wants to protect you but its impossible with the life you all lead

⊱✿⊰ warnings: kidnapping, minor torture, it will be angsty, almost dying, spitting on your face, the joker deserves his own warning tbh

⊱✿⊰ notes: this is for skye because she wanted some angsty batfam stuff and here we are. I am just shitting on the page and hoping words form at this point. I hope you enjoy and feel free to send me requests. Also this is a platonic fic sorry if you were hoping for romance action

⊱✿⊰ tags: @kozumesphone @fizzywashere87 @fashionablysouly @witherwallflower @goldierey

@finleyforevermore @baecakie @gergthecat @mqstermindswift @anyas-shitposting69 (comment on this or send me an ask if you want to be added to my DC taglist)

"Well, well, well. Looks like baby bird got caged." The clown sneered, leaning close to your face. You scrunched your nose and tried to scoot away despite the ropes scratching your wrists raw.

The Joker's finger runs along your cheek, a horrific grin on his face as he stared at you. You tried to keep a brave face, you tried to act like the domino mask over your eyes was really a shield. You tried to act like your dad, Batman.

Maybe it was your fault you got kidnapped. He said you weren't ready to go out and patrol with your family, but you went away. You stole one of Damian's mask and put on the most costume adjacent clothes you owned.

"Where should I start, little one?" Joker asked, breaking your train of thoughts. Placing blame would be set for another time. Not now, its not time yet. "Should I give you a smile that matches mine? Should I turn you into a firey decoration before dear ol' daddy bat gets here?"

You winced, trying to prevent the ice filling your veins and the fear weighing your stomach down. The Joker grabbed a knife from his table that had numerous weapons littered on top. Carefully the cold metal of the blade brushed against your skin, not harsh enough to cut just yet. He wanted to scare you first.

•───────────•°•❀•°•──────────•

"I am going to kill that son of a bitch." Jason growled as soon as he heard the news. Bruce gathered the family in the batcave, and explained the Joker had kidnapped the youngest of the family- you.

"Jason, I understand your frustration but we can't act with haste. I won't let her face the same fate you did. I won't make the same mistake twice." Bruce replied, already dressed as Batman. He was doing his best to stay professional despite his fear being ever present.

"I don't want to wait too long either." Dick added, crossing his arms over his chest. Everybody was tense, wanting their sister to be safe once again.

"I'll find where that stupid clown is keeping [Name]." Tim said, standing up and rushing towards the computer before anybody could even reply. Barbara silently followed, knowing she would be the most help to Tim.

Bruce looked at all of his family and nodded, "We'll find her and get her back."

•───────────•°•❀•°•──────────•

Your throat was hoarse and tears had dried on your face. There was no point to fighting it anymore, you only hoped he would kill you soon.

"Aw but doesn't the bird look good with her wings marked?" The Joker chuckled, slicing yet another line into your arm. The cuts were deep, sure to scar, and they were deliberate. You could only guess what he was spelling on your arms.

With the amount of blood flowing down your arms like a red river, it was to no surprise you were fading in and out of consciousness. That would be nice, at least you wouldn't be awake while he tortured you.

You almost settled into the pain, eyes fluttering close to let yourself rest, when you heard a crash. Glass was broken and there was yelling everywhere.

The Joker grabbed your face with his hand and forced you to look forward, where you saw your family (the only thing disguising their horrified looks were their masks)

"Looks like they showed up in time for you, baby bird." He grinned, spitting on your cheek. You were too tired, too fragile to even bother being disgusted. It was better than the cutting.

"Let her go and I'll think about not crushing your head into the wall." Red Hood barked out, already aiming his gun at The Joker. You tried to pay more attention but you were fading slowly,, ready to force your body to rest.

The Joker dropped your body like it was nothing, your face smashing into the concrete. It hurt, pain forming in your forehead but it was a distraction from the blood oozing out of you.

Despite your best efforts, you finally blacked out. The last thing you saw was your family lunging at the Joker, rage thick in the air.

Light flooded your eyes, fresh air blasting your lungs. You were laying down on something soft and warm, contrasting against the mildly scratchy fabric on your skin. You blinked your eyes a few times, forcing them to focus despite the dull ache pounding in your head.

"You're awake." Damian said, apparently sitting beside you. It took a little while but you realized you were in the personal hospital at the manor. He had a few scratches and bruises but nothing as horrific as the scars on your skin (and in your brain.)

"Wha-what..happened?" You croaked, throat feeling like sandpaper. Like magic, Dick appeared with a glass of water you gratefully took. The liquid in your throat was almost heavenly in the way it made you feel infinitely better.

"The Joker kidnapped you and we rescued you." Your father explained calmly, not bothering to add details. Which was probably good for you, the devil's in details.

"I'm glad your back, sis." Jason said, making you suddenly aware of his presence in the back of the room. Your entire family seemed to be in here, ready to see your betterment. Despite he general aversion to touch, Jason wrapped you into a hug.

Of course, everybody else joined in (forcefully or not) for a big group hug. You laughed, despite the hollow of your heart, watching as Tim was pushed into the hug by Dick.. It was ridiculous having a group hug after a traumatic event...how family sitcom could you get?

But somehow, it felt good to be in the arm's of your family. It felt like home.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[muniimyg]

5: the oblivious // series m.list

note: okok... i'm sorry i have to taint them. i jus think... HE DESERVED THIS !!! ahwuhaksjf srsly i tried so hard to keep this fic pure n fluffy ,,, mebe next time LOL

warnings: jk fingers oc in the library :') ,, dirty talk ,, oc cums !! implied smut thru/out their convo ?? yeah ...

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @rrosiitas @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo

//

“Hey, you.”

Before you can turn your head, it’s like your heart already knows who it is. Actually, it’s pretty much a given on who it is. 

Jungkook catches up next to you, snaking his arm around your waist. He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head, followed by a tight hug. He squeezes you until you squeal free from his grip. 

“There’s a kinder way of greeting me that doesn’t involve squeezing my guts out,” you criticize him half-heartedly. "What ever happened to just saying hi?"

He chuckles. “It went down the drain after the first time I kissed you."

“You always wanna kiss me, huh?”

Pretending to be offended, he shoots you a glare. “Now, now… Don’t act like you didn’t come running back for a goodnight kiss—”

“Okay, okay,” you yield. “I get it. Can you—”

Without hesitation, Jungkook takes your tote bag off of your shoulders. Along with your books in your hands, he tilts his head towards the library, assuming that's where you're headed. You nod in response. Like second nature, he offers you his hand.

You take it.

With a smile, he adds, “Let's go. I got it, mi.”

Confused, you tilt your head at him. “Mi?”

He then scrunches his nose at you. “Figure it out.”

You huff but mutter an “okay, fine.” Although, you don't really think about it. You have a feeling you already know what he means.

With that, you continue to walk towards the library. As you do so, Jungkook walks beside you, happier than ever. He smiles brightly when you ask him about his day. To which he replies that it was the same old same old. He states that the only exciting part about today was that he got dismissed early from class because his professor had an appointment. Hence, him being able to catch up to you on time. On Monday's, you're usually at the library by 2PM sharp. He usually joins you at 3PM, making today an hour more special than usual. You laugh, joking that he's too into you. Jungkook doesn't deny it. Poorly, he utters under his breath; “like you wouldn’t do the same…” 

You laugh because you heard it. 

But more than that, you laugh because it’s true. If the tables were turned, you’d be in his position. You’d be the one looking for him. In all honesty, you don't know when that started... But it has and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Jungkook likes the mood right now. It’s a lot like the end-of-spring weather today. It’s playful and sweet. Moments like these are exactly why he gets so many butterflies when he’s around you. Maybe it’s because he finally feels like things are moving forward between you two. Maybe it’s because he feels your effort. Maybe because it’s finally happening. 

You have butterflies too.

They say love is only really made up of two things: choices and timing. With your entire heart, you can't help but feel hopeful that this is that.

This is it.

When you two make it in front of the library, Jungkook holds the door open for you. Happily, you head to your spot only to find it taken. 

“Oh…” you frown. “That’s—”

“Do you want me to ask them to move?” Jungkook suggests. "I can do it."

He says it nonchalantly like it's no big deal.

That's the difference between you and him. For many things, Jungkook's approach is much more confident and not personal. You on the other hand... Would rather eat the wrong order than correct the workers. It's difficult for you to feel like you aren't inconveniencing others. It's easier for you to suck it up and move on.

With wide eyes, you shake your head. “What? No. That spot—”

“It's yours if you want it... I know you want it. I can get it for you." He repeats himself. "Just tell me to, baby. I got it.” 

Your heart is touched by the way he validates your feelings. More than that, your heart is touched by how he understands and protects what matters to you. There's kindness in his actions. There's thoughtfulness and in a way, it makes you wonder just how well he knows your heart. Though it's just a spot in your favourite library; it's also where you feel the most safe. That's all he really wants... To be with you wherever you are the happiest. He wants it so bad. He just wants to sit with you.

When that realization hits, you can't stop it.

Your heart skips a beat.

“It’s… Okay, fine. Y-yeah, it is my favourite spot but it's also whatever," because wherever you are is my new favourite spot. "We can sit somewhere else—”

His eyes light up.

“I know a spot.”

“You do?”

“Mhmm.” Jungkook nods towards the other end of the library. Before you can think twice, he takes your hand and tugs you to follow him.

And so that's what you do.

You hold his hand tightly.

You follow him.

You set your butterflies free.

Jungkook leads you to the corner of the library. It’s a little secluded, bordered by bookshelves, and only lit by one big window. Your usual spot is right in the heart of the library. Where the high ceilings look magnificent at every time of day, and the busy atmosphere motivates you to keep going… This part of the library is sleepier. It’s hidden. It’s a little—

“I-is this where you go to make out with your girls?” you attempt to joke your nervousness away. 

Jungkook grins. “Jealous?”

“Only if it’s true.” 

He shakes his head, completely impressed with how you answer him. It’s times like these where he has no doubt that he likes the wrong girl. This is it. You’re the best match for him. He won’t have anyone else. 

He refuses to. 

Jungkook pulls you down to his lap, and as you settle in, he kisses your neck. Out of reflex, you hesitate when someone walks past you two. They chuckle at you two as if they know the spot... As if they know Jungkook.

You clear your throat and shift away.

Instantly, he notices and sighs. He isn't disappointed or annoyed, he knows you're shy. He knows you need reassurance. He knows to listen to you.

“___, if you think this is some fuckboy move I’m pulling… You’re right. But it’s not my move. It’s Jin’s.” He confesses. “I’ve never made out with a girl in the library. Never felt like it… Like, it’s just so boring and like… The lowest level of an exhibition kink.” 

“What’s the highest?”

Jungkook blanks out. 

“Don’t edge me like that,” he warns you. “Don’t ask if the answer has nothing to do with you and me.”

More than his head and heart, Jungkook feels like his dick might go crazy.

You laugh, as you get up from his lap and sit on the chair beside him. He groans and keeps his hand on your wrist as you move. Jungkook only lets go when you reach over for your bag and begin to unpack. 

He watches you as you prepare your notes in front of him and turn your laptop on. In complete disbelief of the direction of the conversation, he can’t take his eyes off of you. 

It’s like he’s in a trance. He doesn’t know if he’s even blinking. He must be, right? You’re the only thing that he sees. The only thing he can think of lately... And to see you so close to him? It feels surreal.

He’s so lucky. 

He’s so in love.

There’s no other way of putting it.

Over these past few months, you’ve made it incredibly difficult for him to deny his feelings. He can’t even suppress them anymore like the good subconscious fuckboy he is. You have not only captured his heart with your gentleness, but you have him mesmerized with every single part of yourself that you give to him. As time goes by, he isn’t sure how much more he can hold out before a kiss turns into something more or how many words he has left to use before the words “marry me,” escape his lips. It’s just so easy with you.

It’s so easy to feel loved and be in love. 

“Stop staring at me,” you hum as you read through your articles. You don’t even glance at him, but you feel it. You feel the desire to. You should give in… Right? Maybe—

“God, you have no idea how hard I’m trying.” 

You turn to look at him, lips curved into a small smile. “T-try harder… Like me.”

This time, Jungkook is caught off guard. Maybe you aren't as oblivious as he once thought you were.

“What do you mean?” he asks, moving his seat closer to you. You sit back and lean in towards his body. It's as if the work you prepared to focus on has completely lost its significance.

It has.

“I think you’re handsome,” you admit. You say it so gently that it comes off a little timid... Sure nonetheless. “But you don’t see my eyes popping out of my head—”

“You think I’m handsome?” Jungkook chuckles, feeling flattered with the way you're trying so hard to get past this nonchalantly. Nice try, ___. He plans to milk this out as much as possible. “What else?”

You scrunch your nose at him. “A little annoying to be honest. This is my study time, and you’re acting all cute.”

“So you think I’m handsome and cute?”

Rolling your eyes, you push away from him playfully. “I think you know know what you are.”  

Instantly, he hates the distance you put in between you two. You were just close to him… Why move away? He moves closer to you. You giggle as you feel him moving your hair from your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your neck and behind your ear. 

“Just means more coming from you… You know? Makes me happy when you think of me.”

“I always think of you,” you breathe, pushing him away again. He gives you a lazy smile and you squish his lips together into a pout. “Are you done? Stop staring at me. Stop trying to make out with me. Stop—”

“Why?” Jungkook tests you, removing your hands from his face. You’re tongue tied. “___, if you’re in love with me, fess up now. Aren’t we supposed to be doing that honesty thing?”

“That was more for you than it is for me…” you remind him. “Now, get it together or get out.”

“You can’t kick me out of the library. You aren’t the police. If you are, show me your handcuffs.” Jungkook demands. “Plus, this is my spot.”

With an annoyed tone, you sit up and argue back. “You took my spot—”

“Shhh,” he cuts you off by pressing a kiss on your lips. Your lips chase his as he pulls away. You let out a whine and furrow your eyebrows together.

One more, please.

One more kiss.

Jungkook settles back to his seat and takes his books out. Ignoring your pleas, he places his hand on your knee (like he always does) and hushes you one last time; “___, get it together or get out.” 

Jungkook’s hand on your knees somehow made it up your skirt. 

Let’s not talk about it. Instead, let’s just accept that this is what’s happening now.

Even so, you admit that a part of you should have seen this coming… Nevertheless, you aren’t mad that it’s happening. You’d be lying if you never went through your ovulation and didn’t think about Jungkook… Besides, he’s been so good to you. He deserves this!

God, did he deserve this. 

He has wanted this for so long. Aside from being mindlessly in love with you 24/7, he has thought about it. Of course, he has. At the end of the day, his heart can't be the only thing that's in(to) you. He's a nice guy, meaning he’d rather service you first.

Mark his word but the day you and him actually do sleep together and it's you doing things to him...

It will be unforgettable.

It will be incomparable.

It will be everything.

For now, this is it. His hoodie sits on top of your lap as his fingers are up your pussy. You two are still in the library at his spot. Everyone has left to eat dinner. The only ones at the library are the workers and the try-hard students in the main rooms.

Besides… You’re close. 

Really fucking close.

As his fingers pump inside you, you squirm in your chair. Leaning your forehead against his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head and utters; “take it, baby. You can do it. Make me proud.”

“I c-can’t,” you cry, feeling it in your bones at this point. His fingers curl inside you, and you practically jump out of your seat when he adds his thumb to rub onto your clit. 

“Wish it was my mouth,” he whines. “Can I do that next time, baby? Can I suck your cunt? So fucking swollen right now... You thinking of me eating you out, baby? Wanna lick that pussy so bad.. Ahh, fuck.”

“M-mnhmphh,” you moan at the thought. “Kiss me, p-please…”

You tilt your face up and pursed your lips at him. Jungkook lowers his head and kisses you, deep and slow. It’s a contradiction to how he picks up the pace and fucks you with his fingers. You gasp, mouth opening for him. He catches your tongue and sucks on it. 

Pulling away, you grab a handful of his shirt and tug on it. Holding onto it, you pant and feel the tingles in your body intensify.

“That’s it, ___. Clench around my fucking fingers,” he hisses. “Be an angel and cream them, yeah? Fuck my fingers back if you want. I’ll let you.” 

You shake your head. “N-no. You started this, you finish it.”

He grins. “What my girl wants, she gets.” 

He keeps going, fucking you with his fingers. They curl, searching inside your pussy as if there’s something to fucking find. Actually, maybe he’ll find your dignity in there. You must have lost your mind to be fingered in the fucking library!

Your thoughts are cut off when he pulls his fingers out and rubs your folds. You almost cry when you feel him pinch your clit. 

“Jungkook,” you whine, feeling yourself climax. 

“Jungkook,” he mocks, as he feels your upper body collapse against his. 

As you feel yourself cum, you gather the strength to stick up for yourself. “S-shut up.”

He laughs, and kisses the top of your head as he pulls his fingers out. He murmurs between kisses; “Good job, baby… Did so good. Proud of you.”

Your heart flutters as you catch your breath and straighten your posture. With Jungkook’s free hand, he reaches in his bag for the little packet of tissue (that you had packed in there a few days ago because you noticed he had a runny nose) and nonchalantly wipes your mess. 

“Your fingers—”

Jungkook shoves them in his mouth, sucking on your cum. As he cleans them off, you glare at him. 

“Don't—oh my god," you huff. Suddenly, you feel embarrassed about everything that just happened. Jungkook laughs and leans forward. He kisses your cheek, asking if you're okay. You nod and feel yourself beginning to blank out.

"You're nasty."

He cups your face and kisses your lips. “Yeah, yeah... But, baby, I wasn’t the one that came in the library.”

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | Menace

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, slight exhibitionism, grinding, references to oral sex (f receiving), fingerfucking, San can't get enough of his Noona Word Count: 1.7k Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: Just a little early Valentine's Day gift from me to you 💝 Please note: there's a time jump here - it's not picking up where the last vignette ended, but later.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

San’s been getting bolder lately.

This thing between you, unnamed because you’d decided it didn’t need naming, nor did anyone else need to know - so far, it’s been easy to keep it a secret. San’s always been very affectionate, so no one blinks an eye at the arm draped over your shoulders when you’re hanging out on the couch, or the way he tugs you onto his lap at parties. 

No one sees the way he kisses you when everyone leaves the room. Or how you roll your hips into his, making him groan into your ear while the party roars around you. Little touches, light teasing, all make the secret even better. 

You’re all over each other any time you have the apartment to yourselves. Which isn’t often enough for your liking. Especially when Haneul’s back on the night shift. Then it’s the three of you together all day and you by yourself at night while San and his sister are both at work. 

So the stolen moments are fewer and further between these weeks. The longing drives you up a wall. At least you’re not alone in your suffering, since clearly San is feeling the same way. You know this from the looks he gives you. The texts he sends. He’s insatiable. 

And it’s making him a little reckless.

Like the other day, for example. You were standing at the stove, lost in thought about your latest writing assignment as you stirred a pot of kimchi jigae. It was your turn to make dinner and you have very limited cooking skills, but stew? Stew is easy. 

San was also in the kitchen, rummaging through the snacks crammed into the cabinets overhead. 

“If you can wait a few minutes, dinner’s almost ready,” you informed him. 

“But I’m hungry now,” he replied, and you just sighed, returning to your jigae. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with your assignment or with the food on the stove, you would’ve clocked the gleam in his eye. 

San came up behind you, crowding his body against yours. You let out a tiny squeak as he reached for a bag of chips on an upper shelf.

“Excuse me, Noona,” he whispered against the back of your neck. “Just need to grab something.”

“San!” you hissed, careful not to be too loud. Your apartment is tiny, too tiny to have any walls  separating the kitchen from the living room. Haneul was watching tv just a few feet away, back to you as she sat on the couch. “Your sister is right there.”

“I know that. But I told you. I’m hungry.” He pressed forward, and you suppressed a moan, feeling him rubbing against your ass. You could picture how his cock looked at that moment, flushed and hard, straining to reach you through the layers of clothing between you. It’d be so easy to let him tug your joggers down a little, you thought, and your back arched slightly at the idea, before you got a hold of yourself, straightening up with a huff.

You shot him a quick dirty look over your shoulder. “Could you be more obvious?”

San laughed. “Oh, I could.” His free hand wrapped around your waist, holding you close while his lips brushed your ear. “Like if I popped you up on this counter right now and ate you out until you cried. Think she’d notice then?”

The image was so strong, you perched on the edge, toes digging into San’s back as he buried his face in your cunt, that your vision went as white as your knuckles did gripping the spatula, and you let out a tiny whimper.

San correctly interpreted this sound as confirmation that you’d gotten his point. “Maybe I’ll do that anyway, after she leaves for work.” 

“You’re a fucking menace,” you replied, voice trembling. 

He dropped a kiss to your shoulder before backing away. “Yeah, but you love it.”

Later, when he made good on his promise, hands firmly keeping your ass in place on the counter as his tongue made your hips buck, you realized you do. You love every minute of it. 

So tonight, when you notice him giving you the eye from the other end of the couch, even though his sister’s sitting in the armchair, mere inches from you, you don’t look away. You’re sitting with space between you and San, a rarity, but it’s intentional. You’re so keyed up right now, a single touch from San might make you come undone. So you’re holding it together until Haneul leaves.

But that doesn’t stop you from letting him know you’re wanting him too. You bite your lip as you gaze back, to be met by a rising smirk, which does nothing to cool you down.

Haneul’s shift is starting soon, a fact that all three of you are hyper aware of, though for entirely different reasons. She should be showering right now, but she’s dragging her feet to catch the end of some movie she and San have been watching. You’ve become intimately familiar with Haneul’s pre-work routine, finding yourself literally counting down the minutes lately before she leaves you and San alone on a rare night when he’s not working.

After what feels like ages, the movie blessedly ends, but Haneul doesn’t rise, stretching in her seat. 

You break. “Don’t you need to get going?” 

“Eh, I’ll just bring Yeosang some coffee and he’ll forgive me for being late,” she says. “He always says I’m his favorite coworker anyway.” 

“I thought he had better taste than that,” San pipes up, earning himself a middle finger from his sister. 

“Whatever. You love me too.” She glances at you. “You know, he’s not seeing that waitress anymore. I could tell him to text you, if you’re still interested?” 

If you looked over right now, you’re pretty sure you’d find San studying your reaction, which is why you try to keep your face as blank as possible. “Oh, I don’t - I don’t know… um, I’ll think about it.” 

She shrugs. “Suit yourself. But I wouldn’t give it too much thought. A sweet guy like him won’t be single for long.” She finally shuffles towards the bathroom, and you breathe a sigh of relief, turning to San, only to be met with a cheeky smile.

“Yeosang, hmm?” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Shut up.” You can feel flames of embarrassment licking at your cheeks. “Your sister asked what I thought about him once and I said he was cute, okay? That’s all.” You’re not sure why you feel so defensive, but San obviously notices. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he states, raising his hands. Yet that bright grin of his remains.

“Well good. Keep it that way,” you say, shaking your head when he laughs. “You really are an absolute menace, you know th- “

San suddenly raises his finger to his lips. Confused, you stop talking. He points to the hallway, where you can hear the squeak of the shower being turned on. Then he mimics zipping his lips, and inclines his head, silently asking if you understand. 

You nod, heart skipping in your chest. 

San grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over your lap and his. Then his arm disappears beneath the soft fabric, and you feel his hand warm on your stomach before it’s diving under the waistband of your joggers.

“S-san,” you stutter. “Wait.” You can’t. You shouldn’t. Right? 

He doesn’t pull his hand away, but doesn’t move it any further. “Do you want me to stop?”

There’s something so dangerous in his eyes right now, in the way he looks at you. You’re afraid you might become addicted to him. 

Who are you kidding? You already know you are. 

“We have to be quick.” 

San grins at your response. He tilts his head, leaning towards you, and you accept his kiss with hungry lips. His fingers slip between your legs, tracing over your clothed slit, picking up more arousal with each pass. 

“Gonna make you forget all about anyone else,” he murmurs, tongue gliding against yours. As if you’re thinking about anyone else right now. As if there’s anyone who could make you feel like San does. Thankfully, his mouth muffles your whimper when he pushes your panties aside and slides his middle finger in, sinking right up to his knuckles in one smooth glide. 

“Nghh,” you groan, and San pushes his tongue into your mouth, trying to muffle your noises with the wet muscle like a gag. But despite the enthusiasm with which he’s trying, it’s not enough. It’s his fault, really, given that he’s the one with two fingers curling inside you now, stroking you just right. 

You start to pant, lungs shaky as need consumes you, and San pulls back, examining your face for a moment, before he shakes his head and clamps his hand over your mouth. “Always so loud, Noona. Do you want to get us caught?” 

You moan involuntarily, surprising yourself, and he drops his head onto your shoulder, fucking you faster with one hand while smothering your whining with the other. His hot, heavy exhalations on your neck are the only sign that he’s worked up too.

When your orgasm hits, you twitch and spasm, stomach and thighs quaking. He holds his hand firm over your mouth, letting you grind against his other hand while you ride it out, until you’re completely spent, making no more sound.

Your heart rattles in your chest when you lift your head. San catches your eye, a tiny smirk on his lips, and you impulsively press a kiss to it, transforming it into a full blown smile. You didn’t realize you were an alchemist. 

When Haneul emerges from the bathroom, she finds you curled in the corner of the couch under the blanket. San’s in the kitchen, rooting through the fridge. You hope you look calm and relaxed, that your best friend can’t hear the way your heart is still racing. 

“All right, kids. Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone.” 

Haneul’s footsteps have barely faded outside the door before you’re on your feet, tugging San towards your bedroom. After all that waiting, you’re not wasting a second more.

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Thirty: Intertwined

Chapter WC: 14,332

Chapter Tags/Warnings: usual amount of angst and hurt/comfort, fighting as a form of flirting, Rex and our girl both discover something about themselves here lmao

A/N: We made it to the end of part one! Next week will be an interlude, and then we'll pick up with part two and a new banner. Thanks to everyone who's liked, commented, and reblogged and stuck around for this long! I hope you enjoy this chapter 🤭

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Coruscant, 21 BBY

The clone barracks on Coruscant is a sprawling complex, with hundreds of buildings housing tens of thousands of clones. The architecture is stark and utilitarian, but the atmosphere is anything but. The halls are filled with life and energy, with laughter and conversation, and a sense of camaraderie that's hard to find anywhere else in the galaxy.

As a Jedi, you're not used to spending time here. You feel strange, out of place, even though you’re among your own men. The few times you’ve visited this place, you’ve stuck to the common spaces. The briefing rooms, the training facility, and once, the mess hall. You've never seen the barracks proper, the private spaces where the clones sleep and spend their downtime. Where they live.

Booker seems perfectly content to break down that barrier for you. 

He's walking beside you, his hands tucked into his belt, his stride confident. He doesn't seem bothered by the fact that he’s bringing a Jedi into a space where clones are supposed to be alone, free from the prying eyes and expectations of the Order and the Republic. You can't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

But he seems excited, and that excitement is contagious. It's the same feeling you had as a child, stealing pastries from the Temple kitchens, or sneaking out with Obi-Wan to visit Dex's. That sense of daring and adventure, of doing something that's not supposed to be done. You’re a general now, though, and his superior officer, so you try your best to rein it in.

“Are you sure they don’t mind?” you ask warily. You can't shake the feeling that you're intruding, even if he insists otherwise.

Booker snorts.

"Of course they don't," he replies. He glances at you and smirks. “Just like they didn’t mind you coming out with us the other night. It's fine."

You snort and look away, your eyes resuming their scan around you. Most of the doors are closed, but there's a steady stream of clones moving through the corridors. Some are headed for the mess hall, while others are clearly off-duty. A group of them walk by, their conversation loud and lively, and their steps falter as they spot you.

"Hey, General!" Screwball calls, a wide grin splitting his face. He gives a mock salute and a wink. "Nice to see ya."

"You too," you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. You wave, and the rest of the squad nods and returns the gesture. They continue down the corridor, their laughter echoing off the walls.

Booker grins and elbows you in the ribs.

"See?" he says, his tone triumphant. "They're happy to see you. You've got nothing to worry about."

You hum, unconvinced, and he rolls his eyes.

"Come on," he prompts. He nods his head towards a door on the left. "We're here."

You follow him through the door and into a large training room. The space is open and spacious, with padded mats on the floor and targets lining the walls. It's empty, save for the two of you, and you turn and raise a brow at him.

"I booked it for the afternoon," he explains as he crosses the room, pulling off his gloves and tossing them aside. He pulls his blasters out of their holsters and places them on a nearby bench. "We've got a couple hours to ourselves."

You let out a snort and start removing your own weapons. You place your lightsabers on the bench next to his and strip off your outer robe and tunic, leaving you in a white sleeveless top and dark leggings.

"Thank you," you say, your voice quiet. "I appreciate it."

Booker shrugs, his attention on removing his armor.

"Figured I owed you for skipping out on you yesterday," he replies, and he pulls off his chestplate and sets it down, followed by his gauntlets and vambraces. He looks up and meets your gaze. "How are you feeling?"

The question takes you by surprise. You'd expected a joke or a comment about being glad to have a day off, not a genuine inquiry into your well-being. You hesitate, unsure of how to respond, and his expression softens.

"You look terrible," he observes, a hint of concern coloring his words. "Were you able to get any sleep?"

"A little," you admit. You hadn't slept well. You hadn't been able to stop thinking about your vision, or the things Obi-Wan had said. You'd lain awake for most of the night, tossing and turning, unable to shut off your thoughts. You sigh and run a hand through your hair. "I had some...unpleasant dreams."

"Yeah?" he asks, his eyebrows rising.

"It was nothing," you dismiss, and you shrug and start stretching. "Alcohol always messes with my sleep. I just need some time to recover."

"Uh-huh," Booker says skeptically. "Right."

You turn away, ignoring his doubt, and begin your warmup stretches. You move slowly, loosening the stiff muscles in your back and legs, and try to ignore the ache in your head and the heaviness in your limbs. It's a struggle, and you know you're going to regret it later, but you don't care. You need this.

"So," he begins as he pulls off his boots and grabs a roll of tape, starting to wrap his hands. He keeps his gaze fixed on the task, and his voice is casual. Too casual. "Have you decided what you're going to do yet?"

"Do?" you ask, your brows furrowed. Your mind is still stuck on the vision, the images and the feelings replaying over and over again. You have to force yourself to focus, to push the thoughts away. To concentrate on the here and now, and what you’re going to do about the information that you now possess. “About what?”

"About Rex," he clarifies. He looks up at you and gives a sly smirk. "You know. The whole...being in love with him thing."

"Oh." The realization dawns on you, and a blush creeps up your neck. "I...uh. Not really."

"You have to tell him, General," he says, and the teasing tone is gone. He's serious. Earnest. "He deserves to know."

"I'm aware of that," you reply, and you can't help but scowl a little. “I thought we agreed no more feelings talk while sober, Booker. What happened to that?"

"We did," he agrees. He finishes wrapping his right hand and moves to his left. "But we both know this is something that can't wait. There’s a good chance we’re heading back out to the front in a couple days. If you don’t tell him now, you might not get another chance. At least not for a while."

You sigh and rub a hand over your face. You can't argue with that. You'd been trying not to think about it, but it's true. You're back to war, and you're not going to be here on Coruscant much longer. Once the Council clears you, you'll be sent back to the field. To the front. And the chance of a moment like this, where the two of you are alone, without an audience or any responsibilities, might not come around again for a long time.

But as much as you want to, as much as you need to tell him, you’re not sure if you can or if you should. The vision of destruction, darkness, Rex’s pain, looms over you. The fact that Rex, in some version of reality, is the only thing standing between you and the darkness. The potential for him to hold your leash, or worse, to be the final defense, terrifies you. That you are, in a very real way, a danger to him. You can't help but wonder if this isn't the Force telling you not to. Not to risk it. To keep your distance.

“I can't, Booker," you say softly. Your shoulders slump, and you shake your head. "Not yet. It's...complicated. There’s a lot more at stake than just my feelings. And his. It's not that simple."

“If this is about the rules—“

“It’s not. Not entirely," you cut in. You close your eyes, the memories of the vision flashing through your mind. Rex's pain. His anguish. The fear. The knowledge that it could happen. That if you don’t figure out how to control the darkness, the rage and the hate, it could come true. "I want to tell him. I need to tell him. But I can't. Not yet."

There's a long silence as you wrap your hands, and Booker lets out a soft sigh.

“Alright," he says. He stands and tosses the tape roll aside, stretching his arms and legs. "You know him best. And I'm sure you have your reasons."

"Thanks." You finish wrapping your hands and stand, mirroring his stretches. "For understanding, and for not pushing. I...I'll figure it out. Eventually."

"I know you will," he replies, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, and he cracks his neck and flexes his fingers. He reaches out to grab a pair of boxing gloves from a nearby shelf, but you grab his wrist, stopping him. His brows furrow, and he gives you a questioning look. "What is it?"

You move past him toward the rack of practice weapons, grabbing a wooden bokken sword and turning it in your hands. It's a rough approximation for a lightsaber, and it’ll serve as a decent replacement for now. Until you're confident he can handle facing the real thing.

You give a cursory test swing, the weight and balance feeling familiar. Satisfied, you turn and motion him over, the sword resting on your shoulder.

"I thought we were sparring," he says, his eyes shifting warily between you and the weapon.

"We are," you reply, a smirk playing on your lips.

Booker stares at you for a long moment until the realization dawns on his face, and he lets out a low groan, his head dropping back and his eyes rolling.

"Fuck, really?" he asks. "Can’t we just box or something?"

"Nope," you answer, and you take a step toward him, the sword swinging down from your shoulder. "We’re doing this.”

"No," he says, shaking his head. "No way."

"Yes way," you retort as your smirk fades, and you fix him with a steely glare. "You need to know how to defend yourself. I've put it off long en—"

"I can defend myself," he interrupts, his jaw set, and there's a flicker of anger in his eyes. "I've trained my entire life for this. I don't need a Jedi to teach me how."

"This isn't a game, Booker," you snap. "There are things out there, weapons, enemies, that will tear through you like paper. You can't rely on the training. You need to be able to anticipate, react, think on your feet."

He doesn't say anything, and you can see the muscles in his jaw working as he tries to find a counterargument.

"Look, Booker, I'm not saying you can't handle yourself. You're a great soldier, and an even better shot," you start. You take a deep breath and exhale, letting the frustration fade. "But the truth is, none of that is going to save you from a lightsaber. None of it."

The words seem to take him aback, and his expression softens. You can see the gears turning, the arguments forming and dying in his mind. You don't back down. You keep your eyes locked on his, and you can see the resignation, the acceptance, slowly settling in.

Booker needs this. They all do. You’re doing everything you can to figure out how to control the darkness inside you, but the visions, the warnings, are a threat. It would be foolish and reckless not to teach him, and the others, how to fight against a lightsaber. How to protect themselves from a Jedi who might fall. How to protect themselves from you.

You need to know that, if the worst happens, they can stop you. You can't allow them to become a part of your vision, the nightmare, the potential future. They need to be able to survive, to escape, to live. To keep Rex from being forced into a decision that could destroy him.

You have to make sure they're prepared, and this is the best way.

"I need to teach you how to defend yourself against a Force user," you tell him quietly. Your hand tightens around the hilt, and the wood creaks. "Because there's no guarantee you'll always have a Jedi with you."

You lift your gaze to meet his.

"And there's no guarantee that the Jedi will be on your side."

Booker is silent for a long moment, his eyes locked on yours, and the gravity of your words settles in. Finally, he nods and drops his hands. The anger and the defiance are gone, replaced by determination and a hint of nervousness.

"This is about Dooku, isn't it?" he asks, his voice quiet, and your heart clenches.

"This is about a lot of things," you reply. You let out a shaky breath, and you can feel the weight of the past weeks bearing down on you, the memory of the vision fresh in your mind. Rex holding the blaster to your chest. His finger squeezing the trigger. The look in his eyes. "But yes. Dooku is part of it."

"I didn't think it would matter," he admits. "That's what we have Jedi for. That's why you're here."

"We're not invincible, Booker," you murmur. Your gaze drops to the floor, and you shake your head. "We can be killed. We can be captured. We can fall. Just like any other soldier. And if we do, you need to be ready. You can't depend on a Jedi."

"I..." Booker starts, but his voice trails off, the words failing him. You swallow the lump in your throat and step towards him, the sword resting on your shoulder.

"Look, I'm not asking for anything more than an hour or two of your time," you say. Your voice is calm and even, and you do your best to keep any hint of desperation out of it. "Just a chance to show you what to expect."

He sighs and runs a hand over his face, and he lets out a humorless chuckle.

"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

You shrug, the corner of your mouth quirking. "Probably not."

Booker gives you a long look, searching, and there's a flicker of something in his eyes. You can't help but wonder if he can see through the thinly veiled excuse, and the truth behind your reasoning. If he knows, or at least suspects, the real reason for the sudden interest.

"Alright," he says, his voice low, and he holds up his hands in surrender. "Alright."

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, and you give him a small smile. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," he replies, and the flicker is gone, replaced by the usual cockiness. "I'm still going to make you regret this."

"Big talk, Booker," you quip, pointing at him with the end of the dull blade. "Let's start with your blaster on stun, and then once I disarm you, we'll move on to hand-to-hand."

"Once you disarm me?" he repeats, incredulous. He rolls his eyes, turning to pick up a blaster, his voice taking on a teasing edge as he checks the setting, and you can't help but smirk at the challenge. "You're gonna be disappointed."

"We'll see about that," you answer. The sword swings down, coming to rest at your side. "Now, come on. Let's see what you've got."

Two hours later, the two of you are sprawled on the floor, covered in sweat. The room is filled with the smell of exertion, and your body is thrumming with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. Booker's breathing hard, and you can see his arms shaking slightly. His hair is damp with sweat, and his eyes are closed, his hands resting on his stomach.

"I hate you," he groans, and you let out a breathless laugh.

"I knew you could handle it," you tease.

"That was worse than the survival training," he mutters. He lifts a hand and wipes his brow, and a shudder ripples through him. "Fucking hell. I feel like I just went ten rounds with a Nexu."

"That is not the first time I've heard that," you admit as you heave yourself up into a seated position. You stretch your legs out in front of you and sigh, pointing your toes and arching your back. "I'm going to have to work on a training program for the men."

"You're kidding, right?" he asks, and there's a hint of panic in his voice. He turns his head and gives you a wide-eyed stare. "Tell me you're kidding."

"Relax, Booker," you say, laughing. "I won't subject them to the full experience, not without proper training. Not yet, anyway. I'm sure they're capable, though. We could start with a simple exercise or two."

"Thank the fucking Force," he mutters, and he slumps back against the floor, his eyes closing.

"You did well, though," you continue, and the compliment slips out before you can stop yourself. "For a beginner, that is."

He grunts, his eyes still closed.

"You were going easy on me," he mutters. "You weren't even trying."

You give a noncommittal hum, your mind elsewhere.

The session was more of a success than you could have hoped. Despite his many protests, Booker is a fast learner, and his instincts are strong. He's quick on his feet and unpredictable, and that, combined with his natural ability, makes him a formidable opponent.

But if it had been a real lightsaber, if it had been Dooku or Ventress or...or you, there's no doubt in your mind that he would be dead. There's no way around it. No way to get the upper hand, no way to escape. A single strike from a lightsaber or a well-timed pull in the Force and it would be over. Done.

He needs more training.

"We'll keep at it," you say quietly, and he opens his eyes, his gaze finding yours. "A couple times a week, if you're up for it. I can make the time. I'll teach you everything I can, and hopefully it'll be..."

You trail off, and he opens his eyes, turning his head to look at you.

"Enough?" he finishes, and the word is loaded with meaning. You can see the fear in his eyes, and the question behind it. If there is such a thing as 'enough.' If the training, the skills, the knowledge, is ever going to be anything close to 'enough.' If he could ever really stand a chance against the enemy. Against a fallen Jedi.

Against you.

"Enough," you agree quietly.

"Hey," he says, and his tone is gentle. "It's gonna be fine. I'll learn what you have to teach, and I'll pass it on. I promise."

You nod, and the words stick in your throat. You're not sure how to respond, not sure how to say the things you want to say. So instead, you just offer him a weak smile, and he sits up and leans forward, his arms resting on his knees. He gives you a lopsided grin and bumps his shoulder against yours.

"So," he says, the lightness returning to his voice. "Who's next?"

You raise a brow and shoot him a confused look. "Next?"

"Yeah," he replies, his tone casual. "Next victim."

"Snap, probably," you reply, and he grins, the anticipation flashing across his face. You roll your eyes, fighting a smile. "And wipe that look off your face. You're going to scare him off before he even accepts his promotion."

Booker snorts.

"He's already agreed," he says, his voice filled with confidence, and you stare at him. "I told him when we were at 79s, and he said yes. Didn't even hesitate."

You shake your head, not bothering to hide your smile. Snap's always been the first to volunteer, the first to take charge, the first to put himself in the line of fire. And the fact that he had seen what you'd done on Bothawui and didn't flinch, didn't run, spoke volumes. He wasn't afraid. Of you, or what you were capable of.

The thought both warms and terrifies you, and you take a deep breath, forcing the fear away. You can't dwell on it, not now. Not while you still have a chance to prevent the vision from coming true.

"Then I guess we should start planning his training sessions," you finally say, and Booker grins, slinging an arm around your shoulder and giving you a playful squeeze. You elbow him in the ribs, and he releases you, rubbing his side with a laugh.

"He's gonna hate us for this, you know," he tells you. "When he finds out we're training him to fight Jedi."

You give him a sideways glance, your gaze meeting his. There's a hint of mischief in his eyes and a smirk playing on his lips. You know it's meant as a joke, but there's a hint of truth behind the words. You know how hard it is to trust someone who has the potential to hurt you. Who has the power to kill you. And it’s a fear that every clone is intimately familiar with.

Your eyes flick to the lightsabers sitting on the bench, and a knot of dread forms in your stomach. You don't want the men to fear you. You've had enough of people being scared of you, of being afraid to get too close. The clones are different. They're your friends, your family. You don't want them to look at you and see the potential for danger or death lurking beneath the surface. You want them to know that you would never, ever hurt them. That the darkness, the visions, are under control. That they have nothing to worry about. Nothing to fear.

But that's a lie.

And you would rather they be prepared and wary, than unprepared and dead.

"He'll get over it," you say quietly. "They all will."

"Yeah," Booker murmurs, and he runs a hand through his hair, smoothing the damp locks away from his forehead. "I guess they'll have to."

You sigh and stand, offering him a hand, and he allows you to pull him to his feet. He staggers a bit and grabs onto your arm to steady himself, and you can't help but chuckle at the sight.

"Don't laugh," he grumbles, but there's a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Sorry," you reply, doing your best to suppress a smirk. You grab the towel hanging from a nearby bench and toss it to him, and he catches it with a grimace. "Thanks again for humoring me. I know it's a lot."

"It is," he agrees as he wipes away the worst of the sweat. "But if it keeps my boys alive, it's worth it. I'd rather be prepared. Just in case."

"Yeah," you sigh. "Just in case."

You lift the hem of your shirt and dab at the sweat from your neck and chest, your gaze fixed on the mat below. The weight of his words settles over you, and the memory of the vision, the darkness, looms large in your mind. 

Just in case. That's all this is. That's all any of this is. A precaution. An insurance policy. Something to keep the men safe. To keep Rex safe. To keep him from having to make the impossible choice.

To keep him from becoming the man in your vision.

There's a loud clatter behind you, followed by a gasp and a muttered curse, and you turn to find Rex standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed. There's a datapad on the ground next to his feet, and his hand is still raised where he had dropped it.

"Oh, hey Rex," Booke says casually. He picks up his blaster and tucks it into his holster, apparently unbothered by the captain's sudden arrival, or the fact that the man is staring openly at you. "Good timing."

Rex's mouth opens and closes several times as he tries to form a coherent sentence. He manages a strangled grunt and a feeble wave, and Booker lets out a snort.

"Well," he says dryly. "This should be fun."

Rex clears his throat and straightens his back, his eyes flicking between you and Booker.

"General," he says. His voice is low and strained, and his cheeks are still a bright red. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Hey Rex," you say, offering him a warm smile as you drop the hem of your shirt. You turn to face him, and his gaze flicks down and up your body, taking in your disheveled appearance. The flush deepens.

"Uh. Hey," he manages, his voice cracking slightly, and Booker snickers.

"We were just finishing up," you tell him. You walk towards the bench and start to gather your things. "I didn't realize you'd be stopping by."

Rex opens his mouth to respond, but Booker beats him to it.

"Yeah, she's been kicking my ass for the past hour or so," he says, grinning. He wipes the last of the sweat from his brow and tosses the towel aside before shrugging on his chest plate. "Not that I'm complaining. She's pretty good, actually. Even better than the holo-programs."

"Is she," Rex mutters, and the strain in his voice is more pronounced. He seems to realize he's staring and clears his throat, tearing his eyes away and turning to face Booker. "How's that?"

"I don't know," Booker replies, shrugging. He glances at you, and there's a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You should get her to train you sometime. She'll probably kick your ass too, but it's worth it."

Rex lets out a noise that could almost be a laugh, his hand running over his head. He moves to collect his fallen datapad, his eyes avoiding yours.

"I'll, uh, I'll think about it," he says.

"Right, well, I've got a meeting with Cody, so I'll catch you two later," Booker announces. He grabs the last piece of his armor and fastens it in place, and he moves past Rex, clapping the other man on the shoulder as he goes. "Don't stay here too long. Don't want anyone to get the wrong idea."

He flashes a knowing grin at the both of you, and Rex stiffens, the blush returning full force.

"Right," he says. His voice is tight, and the vein in his temple is starting to bulge. "Thanks."

"Don't worry, I'll be out soon," you say, and Booker gives a mock salute before disappearing through the door, leaving you and Rex alone in the training room. There's a moment of silence, the only noise coming from the steady hum of the lights above and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Rex takes a deep breath and turns to face you, and the flush is still prominent on his cheeks.

"So, uh, I didn't mean to interrupt," he begins, and his voice is low, hesitant. "Booker asked me to meet him here. Said he wanted to talk to me about something, but..."

He waves his hand in a vague gesture and lets out a weak laugh.

"Looks like he was too busy for you," you finish, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

"Yeah, looks like," he agrees with a snort. He tucks the datapad under his arm and clears his throat again. "You said you were leaving soon?"

"Yeah, I've got a meeting with the Council," you say, and your stomach twists. You have no doubt in your mind that another battle is in your near future, and the thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You force a smile and give a shrug. "I’ve got a little time, though. How have you been?"

Rex nods and leans against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.

"Good," he answers. There's a hint of a smile on his lips, and his eyes soften. "Better now."

Your heart leaps into your throat, and a warmth spreads through your body. You can feel his presence, the warmth and comfort and love radiating from him, and you know he would understand. You know that if you told him, if you confessed everything, he would accept you, flaws and all.

He would love you anyway.

You swallow hard and tear your eyes away, your heart pounding in your chest. Your fingers clench into a fist, the nails digging into your palm, and you focus on the pain. The sting. Anything to keep the memories of the vision at bay.

"That's good," you say, and the words come out a whisper. You take a deep breath and steel yourself, pushing the thoughts away. "Glad to hear it."

Rex's smile grows, and he pushes himself off the wall, closing the distance between the two of you.

"How have you been?" he asks. His eyes are dark and intense, and there's a hint of concern in his tone. "Really. You seem...tired."

"Fine," you answer, and you give him a sheepish look. "Or as fine as can be expected, I suppose. Better now."

He gives a low chuckle and shakes his head. "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah," you admit, sighing. "That bad."

"You sure you're alright?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. His brows are furrowed, and his eyes search yours, as if looking for the source of the problem. You give a weak smile and nod.

"I will be," you say, and it's almost the truth. You are fine, for the most part. The darkness is under control. For now. But there's a storm brewing inside of you, and it's only a matter of time before it breaks. "Just tired."

You take the opportunity to return the sword to the rack, unable to handle the weight of his gaze any longer. Your hands are trembling, and your nails bite deeper into your palms.

“What were you and Booker talking about?" Rex asks, his voice quiet. His tone is casual, but you can sense the underlying curiosity, the hint of worry. "Was he giving you a hard time about the other night? Because I'll set him straight if—"

"No," you interject, and you turn to face him, the sword still in your hand. "No, it's not that. I just...I needed to make sure he’s prepared for what's coming. I have to know he can handle himself. That he'll be ready."

Rex's brow furrows, and he takes a step closer, his expression softening. He opens his mouth, but no words come out. Instead, he nods slowly.

"You're worried," he says. His voice is quiet, and you can see the understanding on his face. The knowledge that the two of you share the same burden.

"Yeah," you sigh.

You look down and grip the sword, the memory of the nightmare fresh in your mind. You can't tell him the rest. Can't tell him that the reason, the real reason, for the training is more than just the war, or the possibility of Dooku, or any other Separatist. That the true reason is more personal. More selfish. That the real reason is him. The thought of Rex being forced to decide, to choose whether or not to pull the trigger, whether or not to end your life, is a pain greater than any you have ever felt.

The thought that the clones might need to protect themselves from you, from a fallen Jedi, is a bitter pill to swallow. But it's a reality you're going to have to face, and sooner rather than later.

You lift the sword, turning it over in your hands.

"It's just...I can't let anything happen to him," you continue. "Or the others. I can't let anything happen to any of you."

“What were you teaching him?" Rex asks gently. He takes another step towards you, and the distance between the two of you lessens. His eyes are warm and full of understanding. "Can I ask?"

You nod, and the corner of your mouth lifts.

"He needs to be able to defend himself against a Force user," you explain softly. "Against a lightsaber."

"And, what, a blaster won't cut it?" he jokes. He tries for a smile, but there's a shadow behind his eyes. A flicker of doubt. "Because he's got a pretty good aim, and he's quick."

"Aim is meaningless," you reply with a frustrated sigh. "You've seen what a lightsaber can do. How fast it can be. You've fought Ventress before. If it came down to him facing her, a blaster would be useless. He needs to know how to block. How to disarm her. How to...survive."

Rex frowns, his jaw working as he processes the information. You can see the same struggle Booker went through in his eyes, but it's quickly replaced by a weary resignation.

"You're right," he murmurs, and he gives a small shrug. "I don't like it, but you're right. We all need to be prepared. In case the worst happens."

Your heart clenches, and you turn away. You take a deep breath and exhale, willing yourself to stay calm, to stay focused.

"Has Anakin ever tried to teach you?” you ask. Your voice is shaky, and you hope Rex doesn't notice. "How to fight a lightsaber?"

"Yeah," he says, and the surprise is apparent. "A couple times."

"And?" you prompt. You raise a brow, and his mouth pulls into a smirk.

"I'm not bad," he admits. "It's not my strongest suit, but I've picked up a couple things. Not sure I'm a match for Ventress, but I can hold my own."

“Think you could hold your own against me?” you ask, and you're only half joking. You've seen him in action, seen him spar with his brothers, and you have no doubt in your mind he would give you a run for your money. You can't deny that you've always been curious about his abilities, and this is the perfect opportunity.

You move the sword through the air in a series of quick, practiced motions. The wood hums as it slices through the space between the two of you, and you can't help but grin.

"You might even learn a thing or two," you add.

Rex’s eyes widen slightly, and his lips part.

"You’re serious?" he asks. He doesn't hide the surprise in his voice, or the interest, and his gaze flickers to the weapon and back up to meet yours. "You want to spar?"

"Yeah," you answer, grinning.

"What, now?" he asks.

"Unless you've got something better to do," you tease, and you twirl the sword in your hand. "Unless you're afraid I'll kick your ass."

He barks a laugh, the surprise and doubt quickly fading from his expression. The spark of challenge ignites, and his smirk grows as he sets the datapad on a nearby bench.

"I think I can manage," he replies, his voice low. He unbuckles his pauldron and lays it down, followed by the rest of the armor on his arms and shoulders. "I'm a fast learner."

You can't help but chuckle at his boldness, and your eyes are drawn to his arms as he strips off the layers, leaving only his black undershirt. His muscles are clearly visible, the fabric straining against his biceps, and it only becomes harder to look away when he removes his chest plate. He places it beside the others, the movements methodical and precise, and his hands move to the buckles of his utility belt.

The image sends a shiver through you, and your cheeks flush. You’ve seen him without his armor once before, when he’d met you at Dex’s to give you the information he’d found about Yaddle, and the memory of him in the dimly lit booth, the way he had looked at you, the way his shirt had clung to his skin, still haunts you. It was the first time you had realized that maybe his feelings for you ran deeper than friendship, and the thought only made the ache stronger.

You can't help but stare, watching as he unfastens his belt and sets it down, the metal clanging against the bench. He turns back to you, the smirk still on his face, and your heart skips a beat.

"Well?" he prompts, and you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You force yourself to look away and focus on the sword in your hands, tightening your grip.

"You've got thirty minutes," you announce as you walk to the center of the room. You can feel his eyes on you, watching your every move, and it sends a thrill through you. You stop and turn, and Rex quickly looks down at his hands, busying himself with wrapping his knuckles. "Ready?"

He finishes tying the knot and flexes his fingers, testing the wrap, and a smile ghosts across his lips.

"As I'll ever be," he answers.

"Start with your blasters set on stun, and once I disarm you, we'll switch to hand-to-hand," you instruct, and you twirl the sword again. "Sound good?"

Rex balks, and he stares at you in disbelief.

"I'm not going to shoot you," he says, and his voice is full of shock. He shakes his head, and there's a note of worry in his voice. "You really think I'd—"

"It's a learning exercise," you interrupt, and his mouth snaps shut. He stares at you, his jaw working, and you give him a reassuring smile. "Look, you're not going to hit me. And if by some miracle you do, I can easily deflect it. Trust me, I'll be fine."

Rex looks affronted, his mouth opening in protest, but he seems to think better of it and sighs. He turns and pulls his blasters from their holsters, setting them to stun. He checks the setting, then checks it again, and you can't help but roll your eyes.

"Stop worrying.”

"I'm not worried," he mutters.

"Oh yeah? What are you doing, checking your settings three times?"

Rex huffs and glares at you, his brow furrowed.

"I'm taking this seriously," he grumbles. "That's all."

"It'll be fine," you assure him, and he gives a short nod, still not looking at you. You sigh and shake your head. "I wouldn't ask you to do it if I didn't trust you."

He looks up at that, his eyes searching yours, and his expression softens.

"I know," he says quietly. He looks down at the blasters and exhales. "Alright, I'm ready."

You nod, and he steps back, his feet planted shoulder width apart, his body lowered into a combat stance. His grip on the blasters is loose, his fingers twitching against the triggers. You try to block out the flash of the vision, the sight of him with the blaster in his hand. Pointed at your heart. Finger on the trigger. 

You take a deep breath and center yourself, pushing the memory away. This is training. Nothing more.

"I'm not gonna go easy on you," you warn, and he scoffs.

"I'd be offended if you did," he replies. The smirk returns, and he tilts his head toward the wooden blade. “You should use two.”

Your brows rise, and you can't help but snort. 

"Two?" you repeat, incredulous. "One should be more than sufficient."

“You fight with two lightsabers," he points out, and there's a hint of defiance in his voice. His eyes flick down to the sword and back up to your face. "I want a fair fight. Don’t hold back.”

You let out a huff of laughter, and your lips twist into a wry smile.

"Alright, if you say so," you say.

You lift your hand and call the second bokken from the rack, the weapon flying through the air into your grasp. Your body automatically settles into a ready position, and you can't help but smirk.

This should be fun.

"Whenever you're ready," you tell him, and his expression hardens.

He doesn't hesitate. His fingers squeeze the triggers, and the air is filled with the sharp, piercing whine of the blasters, followed by a flash of light. The bolts hit one of the blades held up in front of you with a burst of energy, and your hand clenches around the hilt, absorbing the impact. The second bolt goes wide, hitting the far wall with a loud crack.

Rex fires again, and you swing the other stick up, catching the bolt in midair. It bounces off and fizzles into nothing, and he lets out a curse. His fingers squeeze the triggers again, and again, the air filling with the whine and flash of the blasters. 

You deflect, dodge, and twist, the sticks moving like extensions of your body. He's faster than you expected, his aim steady and true, and you can't help but be impressed. You can't deny the thrill that runs through you as you spin and flip and duck, the blades slicing through the air.

You slide under a shot and move forward, closing the distance between the two of you. The blade swings out, and he ducks, his body instinctively moving out of the way. You pivot and lash out with your other hand, aiming for his legs, but he leaps over it, tumbling into a roll and coming up on his knees. 

He fires again, and you raise a hand, catching the blast with the Force. The bolt reverses direction, flying back towards him with a twist of your wrist. Rex curses and dodges, rolling to the side as the blast hits the floor beside him and dissipates into nothing against the mat.

"Did you just...?" he begins, but you don't give him a chance to finish.

You sprint towards him, the swords held low. He fires again, and again, the bolts flying past you as you twist and spin, deflecting them. He tries to keep pace, his shots precise and calculated, but he's no match for the speed and agility of the Force. You close the distance, and he tries to roll to the side, but you're too quick.

His blaster goes flying out of his left hand as you pull it from his grasp. It clatters across the floor and slides under a bench, and his eyes go wide. But the distraction is only momentary, and he nearly manages to clip your shoulder with a shot from his remaining blaster before you catch him in the leg.

Rex stumbles, letting out a muted grunt of pain. He's able to remain upright, though barely, and his grip on the remaining blaster tightens.

“Lightsabers cauterize the flesh," you explain as you back up, resuming your neutral stance. “You’d have lost the leg, but you would have survived to keep fighting…If you could fight through the pain, that is."

He stares at you, his eyes still wide, and the shock is replaced by understanding. 

"Right," he manages. He takes a deep breath and adjusts his stance, his gaze dropping to the stick. "Okay. Alright. That was...unexpected."

"You're not giving up, are you?" you tease. "We've barely gotten started."

Rex barks a laugh. "Not a chance."

He raises the blaster and fires, and you spin out of the way, the bolt sailing harmlessly past you. The sticks move in unison, slashing and jabbing and slicing, and Rex does his best to remain untouched by the blade. He blocks, ducks, and rolls, his movements fluid and precise, and he almost manages to land a hit.

You can't help but grin as you dance around him. You are playing with him, just a little, and he can tell. There's a flash of irritation in his eyes, and his expression hardens.

Your instincts warn you of a shift, a change, and the hair on the back of your neck rises. Your gaze snaps up as Rex fires, the blaster pointed at your chest. The bolt moves through the air, and your hand automatically reaches out.

Your fingers twitch, and the bolt stops, hovering between the two of you. It hangs in the air, frozen in time, and you can feel the electricity humming against your skin. It's a simple trick, and not even a particularly difficult maneuver, but the effect is impressive nonetheless.

Still, you're unable to stop the reminder, the echo of the nightmare, from surfacing. The memory of the vision, the way his eyes had looked, the horror and the fear, flashes before you, and the guilt rises in your throat. You're able to hide the flicker of emotion, but the hesitation is a mistake.

You hear him move, his foot sliding along the mat, and it's only due to years of training that you're able to react in time. You drop the bolt and lunge to the side as his fist grazes your shoulder. You manage to stay on your feet, but it's close. Too close.

He moves to strike again, but the sword sweeps up, and the hilt connects with his arm. The blow knocks the blaster from his hand, sliding across the floor and coming to rest against the opposite wall.

Rex doesn't stop moving, doesn't falter, and he comes at you with a series of jabs and punches, his fists flying. He's faster than before, his moves precise and coordinated, and he doesn't let up.

You're hard pressed to keep up, the swords moving in a flurry as you deflect his blows with your arms, blocking and parrying and redirecting. His foot connects with your shin, and a bolt of pain shoots up your leg. You stifle a curse, gritting your teeth, and you drive a shoulder into his chest, sending him stumbling back.

The fight is a blur, a chaotic tangle of limbs and bodies, and the only noise is the dull thud of flesh on flesh, the grunts and pants of exertion, the slap of bare feet against the mat. He’s not giving you enough room to maneuver your weapons, keeping you on your toes, and it’s exhilarating.

You can feel his presence in the Force, his energy and emotions, and the two of you move together as if it's a choreographed dance. He knows where you're going to be, and you anticipate his moves. It reminds you of when you first fought together on Geonosis, before you even knew each other, and how quickly and seamlessly the two of you had worked together. How well the two of you fit.

You strike him with the hilt of the bokken, a solid blow to the shoulder, and he lets out a cry of pain as the crack reverberates through the room.

You can't help but feel a pang of guilt, but you push it away. He needs to learn. Needs to know what he's facing.

"I know you're better than this," you say, your voice quiet. You take a step forward, the swords held low, and his expression darkens. "Show me."

Rex doesn't respond, and his body drops, his fists flying. His hands are like lightning, and you're barely able to keep up. He's relentless, his blows coming hard and fast. He manages to knock one of the blades from your hands, and the weapon skitters across the mat. You move to block the next strike, but the other sword slips from your grasp, and you let out a frustrated huff.

He doesn't relent, his fists moving in a rapid blur, and you can't help but laugh, a mixture of shock and admiration.

You can feel his confidence rise, and his smirk grows. He's starting to believe, starting to understand the challenge, and you can see the hunger, the thirst for victory, flare in his eyes. He moves faster, his strikes more powerful, and he begins to anticipate your blocks.

His knuckles graze your cheek, and a small thrill rushes through you.

Rex isn't just quick and agile. He's clever, and his attacks are unpredictable, his movements fluid and graceful. He's able to adapt, to learn from his mistakes, and you're reminded once again that he was born for battle. That he was made for this.

He's good.

The thought sparks a new fire within you, and your pulse quickens. You want to see him, to know his limits. You want him to show you everything he has, every skill and talent and strength, and to see just how far he can push himself.

To see how far you can push him.

Your eyes lock, and you can feel the heat in his gaze. Rex’s jaw is clenched, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, and you can't help but marvel at the sight. The intensity of his gaze, the determination, is intoxicating. You want him, need him, to be more than he is. To be the best version of himself.

But most importantly, you want him to survive.

Your body moves on instinct, the Force flowing through you. It guides your movements, and your hands move faster than your mind. You barely register that you've caught his fist in your hand until you're pulling and twisting, and he lets out a strangled cry of pain.

“You can do better than that, Captain," you tease, your voice low.

He grunts and lunges, his free hand lashing out, and you easily dodge the blow. Your grip on his wrist tightens, and his breath hitches. You can feel the heat radiating from him, can feel his pulse pounding in his wrist, and you can't stop yourself from smiling.

"Try harder," you whisper.

Rex grunts, and the look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. There's a mix of rage and determination, a fire, and the intensity is breathtaking.

You let out a sharp exhale and twist, using the momentum to throw him off balance. He stumbles, and you follow through, pushing him to the ground. He lands face first on the mat with a heavy thud.

You drop down, straddling his waist, and you push his arm higher, forcing him to arch his back. Rex lets out a hiss of pain, his eyes squeezing shut, and his other hand grips the mat, his knuckles turning white.

You press a knee into the small of his back, and his eyes snap open, his lips parting. He turns his head to the side, his gaze finding yours. His expression is pained, but there's something else. Something deeper, and darker.

"You need to think about your options," you explain, your voice low. You can feel his muscles tense, the heat of his body radiating into yours, and you try not to focus on how good it feels, how right it feels. You tighten your grip on his arm, and he winces. "If I had a lightsaber, this would be the end. And if I didn’t, I could still kill you. All it would take is a little pressure. A bit of Force. Snap your arm, or your neck. And that would be it."

He lets out a gasp, his body jerking under yours. His hips rock upwards in an attempt to buck you off, and the sudden friction sends a jolt through your body. You bite the inside of your cheek, doing your best to ignore the feeling, and his eyes widen as your hand twists.

There's a hint of panic behind the pain, and you can sense the shift in his energy. He's realizing, perhaps for the first time, just how much power you have over him. And the knowledge that he's vulnerable, that he's at your mercy, seems to be affecting him in more ways than expected.

"Is this the part where you tell me you could crush my skull?" he grunts. There's a hint of frustration in his voice, and he turns his head, trying to get a better look at you. "Or maybe strangle me with the Force?"

You lean forward, the pressure on his back increasing, and a soft gasp escapes him. You can feel the rapid beating of his pulse hammering beneath your fingers, and a shiver runs down your spine.

"Not a bad idea," you agree, a husky note to your voice that wasn't there before. You swallow hard and continue, giving him a wry smile. "Though not very practical. You've got a thick head."

"Thanks," he huffs. 

Rex tries to push himself up, his bicep bulging, but you use the Force to hold him down. His body shakes with the effort to push against the invisible weight, and a low growl builds in his throat. He strains and writhes, his muscles flexing, but it's no use. He's pinned.

"If you're not going to give up," you murmur, "then you need to know how to handle this. A Jedi can sense what you're going to do before you do it. That's the advantage. That's how I'm able to counter you so easily."

Rex grunts and arches his back, his hips pressing against yours, and your breath hitches. You try to maintain focus, try to ignore the way his body feels beneath you, but it's a losing battle.

"What would you do?" you ask as you lean down, your lips inches from his ear. Your fingers dig into his skin, and his eyes darken. "If you could get the upper hand, how would you do it? What would be the best way to disarm me, or disable me, so you can make your escape?"

Rex doesn't answer, his breathing ragged, and you can see the muscles of his jaw working as his eyes squeeze shut. You can't help but be a bit impressed. Even under this level of duress, even with his arm nearly at the breaking point, his body straining against yours, his resolve is unshakable.

"Come on," you coax. Your voice is gentle, and you loosen your grip, allowing him a bit of slack. "Show me."

The slight hitch of his breath is the only warning you have before Rex suddenly twists, wrenching his arm free. He throws his elbow back, the point connecting with your ribs, and the pain blossoms through your body. You lose your grip, and he rolls out from underneath you.

He moves faster than you expect, and the next thing you know, he's flipped you onto your back, his legs pinning yours.

You're stunned by his sudden burst of strength and speed, and the air rushes out of your lungs as your back slams against the mat. Your arms are pinned by your sides, his weight holding you in place as his hand finds your neck, his fingers pressing into the soft skin.

"I'd do that," Rex murmurs, his breath hot against your cheek. His fingers tighten around your throat, and his thumb presses into the hollow of your neck. He draws back and meets your gaze. "If I was trying to kill you, that is."

Your breath catches, and the heat in his eyes threatens to burn you alive. His hand is like fire against your skin, the warmth spreading through your body, and you can't help but notice the slight tremor in his fingers.

The hand planted beside your head flexes as you tilt your head up, his fingers digging into the mat. He's staring at you, his eyes dark and a little wild, and there's a war raging within him, his conflicting emotions crashing into each other like waves.

It takes every ounce of willpower not to kiss him.

Rex shifts slightly, and it gives you the opportunity to pull your hands free, but he doesn’t move further. He seems to be waiting, watching. Waiting for your response, or a sign, or some sort of approval.

You know you should call the exercise to an end. That you should congratulate him and get up, put the space between the two of you before things go too far. Before the lines blur, and the rules are broken. But his hand is at your throat, and his face is so close to yours, and you can't bring yourself to move.

His grip loosens, and his fingers trail down, tracing along the side of your neck. You can't help but let out a soft whimper, the feeling of his skin against yours sending a shiver through you, and the fire within you flares. The flames lick up your spine, and the heat pools in the pit of your stomach.

You want him. You've wanted him for so long, and here he is, his body pressed against yours. His lips, inches from yours. He could kiss you. And if he did, if he made the first move, you would let him. You would wrap your arms around his neck, pull him close, and never let go.

You can see in his eyes he's thinking about it. What it would be like. What it would’ve been like, if you hadn’t been interrupted weeks ago in your quarters.

But it’s different now. Things are different. The war is different, and the stakes are higher. The last time you nearly kissed him, you didn’t know how he felt, and now...now everything has changed. Now you know, and you can feel the weight of his emotions, the depth of his feelings, and it breaks your heart.

The memory of the vision rushes through you, and your heart clenches. The fear. The pain. The agony. How could you let him love you, knowing what was to come? Knowing what would happen, what you would force him to do? How could you be so selfish, so cruel, as to allow it to happen?

That's the reason for the training. To keep him safe, from you or anyone else who may try to hurt him. That's why you're here, pinned underneath him, his hand at your throat, his lips so close. You're preparing him. Preparing him for the worst, in case the worst happens.

In case the worst happens to you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, and you feel his hand tense.

"Rex..." you begin, your voice low.

It's the wrong thing to say.

Rex pulls away as if burned, pushing himself up and rolling off of you. He sits on the mat, his gaze fixed on the floor, his shoulders slumped. He won't look at you, and a sharp pain pierces your heart as a heavy silence settles between you.

"That's...that's what I would do," he finally says, his voice quiet. "I would find an opening, and I would use it."

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. You take a deep breath and exhale, trying to center yourself. Trying to regain some semblance of composure. It doesn't work, and the ache in your chest intensifies, threatening to overwhelm you.

You sit up and wrap your arms around your knees, resting your chin on top as Rex runs a hand over his face and sighs. The two of you stare at the wall, neither willing to look at the other. Neither knowing what to say.

It's not fair. None of this is fair. You didn't ask for this, didn't ask for any of this. You didn't ask for this power, didn't ask to fall in love, and you didn't ask to be placed on the path towards the inevitable. You didn't ask for the visions, the nightmares, the pain. 

But they're there, and there's nothing you can do about it. Nothing except sit here and watch the clock tick down.

How much time will you have left before it happens? How much time will Rex have to prepare for what's coming? For the possibility that he might have to make the ultimate sacrifice. That he might have to choose between killing the woman he loves and betraying his duty. That he might have to kill you, and live with the guilt of knowing that it was him who pulled the trigger.

The thought sends a wave of nausea through you, and you can't help but shiver, the image flashing through your mind.

Rex, with the blaster pointed at your chest, his finger on the trigger. Both of your fingers, together, squeezing. Putting an end to the nightmare. An end to the pain. An end to everything.

An end.

You glance at Rex to see the sadness is still there, written all over his face. His eyes are closed, squeezed shut, and his hands are balled into fists. He's holding it in, the pain, the anguish. But it's there. It's always there, lurking just beneath the surface.

It’s too much, and you have to look away, reaching for the tie holding your braid and tugging it loose with more force than necessary. Your fingers rake through the strands, the motion soothing, and you try to focus on the movement.

"That was good," you say quietly. You run your hands through your hair, letting it fall around your face, and the gesture does little to hide the fact that your hands are shaking. "We should...we should train more. I can teach you more. Teach you how to disarm me, how to disable me. How to—"

"I'm sorry."

The words are spoken so softly, you almost miss them. Your hands still, your fingers tangled in the strands. You don't turn, but your eyes find his. He's staring at the floor, his hands resting on his thighs, and his expression is pained.

"It's okay," you say. Your voice is strained, and your throat feels tight. "You did what you needed to do. And you did it well. Really."

Rex shakes his head, his jaw clenching.

"I shouldn't have..." he trails off, and he lifts his head, his gaze meeting yours. The anguish is there, raw and exposed, and you can see the shame in his eyes. "I shouldn't have pushed. It wasn't...I'm sorry."

The ache in your chest returns, stronger than before, and you have to look away, focusing on the mat. It's easier, safer, to keep your eyes down, your gaze fixed on the spot where the two of you had fallen. The look in his eyes reminds you too much of the vision, the moment he pulls the trigger. The resignation, the agony. You can't handle it.

"It's not that," you murmur, and you close your eyes, fighting the urge to cry. "I just wish..."

You swallow, the lump in your throat becoming too large to ignore, and the tears well up, stinging your eyes.

"It's not that," you repeat. You take a deep breath and open your eyes, meeting his gaze. The anguish is still there, but there's something else, too. Something soft and tender, something hopeful. It's too much, and the words come out in a whisper. "It's never been that."

Rex's eyes widen, and his breath hitches. His expression is a mixture of surprise and confusion, but it quickly gives way to understanding, and his brow furrows.

The hope flares in his eyes, and he opens his mouth, the question on the tip of his tongue. He wants to know, to understand, but you can't bear to tell him.

You push yourself to your feet and turn away, calling the discarded practice swords to your hands and moving toward the rack. You hear his footsteps following you, but you force yourself to focus on the task.

"It was a good match. You're a fast learner. Next time we'll train with actual blades, see how you do against that,” you say, speaking quickly. You shove the swords into their respective slots, your hands shaking. Your voice cracks, and you blink rapidly, willing the tears to subside. "I need to meet with the Council. I'll see you later."

"Wait," he pleads, and his hand closes around your arm, gently pulling you around. "Just...wait a second. Please."

You can't resist, and your feet follow his lead, turning to face him. His hand is still wrapped around your arm, his thumb gently stroking the skin. You look down at the spot, unable to meet his eyes.

“You need to be ready," you whisper. Your voice is barely audible, and the tears spill down your cheeks. "I won't...It won’t always be training, and I need to know that you can handle yourself. I need to know that you'll be ready, no matter what."

Rex's brows knit together, and the hand on your arm slides up to cup your cheek. The motion is so familiar, so gentle, that you can't help but lean into it. His thumb brushes away the tears, his eyes never leaving yours.

It's a stark contrast to his earlier actions, and it sends a fresh wave of guilt through you. Guilt for not being strong, for not being able to control the tears. For not being able to tell him what's really wrong. For not being able to tell him that this, whatever is between the two of you, will end in pain and heartache. For not being able to tell him that no matter what, no matter how much you care about each other, this is all doomed to fail.

He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours, and the distance between the two of you disappears.

"Hey, come on," he murmurs, his voice thick. "It's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."

You shake your head, and you try to pull away, but his grip tightens, keeping you in place. He leans forward and rests his forehead against yours, and you close your eyes, fighting the urge to melt into his embrace. 

"We're going to be fine," he whispers. His hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in the strands, and he pulls you closer. "Don't worry about me. I'll be ready. I'll be ready for whatever comes, because I know you'll be there. You're going to protect me. Just like I'm going to protect you. And nothing's gonna change that."

A broken sob escapes your lips, and his grip on your neck tightens. He pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight embrace. You can't stop the tears from flowing as you bury your face in his chest, the sobs wracking your body.

"Shh, hey, come on, it's alright," he soothes, and his voice is rough, his grip strong. "It's okay. I've got you."

The words only make the tears come faster, and you cling to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. He holds you tighter, his hands rubbing circles on your back, and his voice is low, his breath warm against your ear.

"I've got you, and I'm not letting go," he whispers. His voice cracks, and you can feel his body shudder. "I'm not letting go, okay?"

You nod against his chest, the words coming out in a sob. "Okay."

He lets out a shaky breath, and his grip on you tightens. He rests his chin on top of your head, his hands never stopping their motion, and you can't help but wonder how much longer the two of you will have together. How much longer he'll have to hold you. To protect you. To love you.

How much longer the two of you will have until it's too late.

You don't know how long you stay like that, wrapped in his arms, but eventually the tears stop and the pain fades, replaced by a quiet exhaustion. You take a deep breath and let it go, the ache in your chest becoming a dull throb. 

Rex doesn't release his grip on you, and you don't move. It's comfortable, familiar, and the steady rise and fall of his chest is soothing. It lulls you into a sense of calm, a feeling of peace. The thought of the future seems far away, and for the moment, all you can focus on is the here and now, the feel of him pressed against you, his arms wrapped around you.

He's safe. He's alive. He's here. And he's not letting go.

"Sorry," you mutter, your voice muffled against his shirt. You try to pull away, but he doesn't loosen his hold. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine," he assures you as his fingers run through your hair, tucking a lock behind your ear. "Better to get it out now than have it blow up later, yeah?"

You huff a laugh and wipe the tears from your face, your gaze shifting to the ground. He's right, of course, but you can't help the shame and embarrassment that flare in your chest.

"I shouldn't have..." you begin, but you trail off, unable to finish. You shake your head, the guilt returning. "I didn't mean to take it out on you. That's not...I'm sorry."

Rex's hands are on your shoulders, and he gently pushes you back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His expression is serious, and there's a hint of worry behind the concern.

"Don't," he says. His voice is firm, but there's a hint of desperation, of fear. He gives your shoulders a squeeze, his thumbs tracing circles on the skin. "Please, just...don't."

Your heart clenches at the plea, and the shame intensifies. The guilt is suffocating, and you're unable to stop yourself from looking away, staring at the floor. His hand moves to cup your cheek, tilting your chin up, and he searches your eyes.

"Just tell me," he murmurs. There's a note of urgency in his voice, and the desperation is still there, lingering beneath the surface. "Just talk to me. Whatever it is, I can take it. I just need you to talk to me. Please."

Your heart skips a beat at the plea, and you swallow. You look away, unable to meet his gaze as your mind races, searching for an answer. The idea of telling him everything is terrifying, but you know you can't lie to him, not anymore. He deserves the truth, even if it's not the whole truth. Even if it's a twisted, fragmented version of the truth, he deserves to know what's happening.

"It's..." you trail off, unable to find the words. The lies, the excuses, all seem hollow, and the truth is too painful. You sigh and shake your head, trying again. "Look, I know I'm not...I know this is difficult, but you have to trust me. Okay? I just...I need you to trust me."

His brows furrow, and his hand drops from your cheek. His eyes search yours, and he exhales.

"I do," he replies, and his voice is soft, full of sincerity. "I do trust you. Just...tell me what's wrong. Let me help. Please."

The tears are welling up again, and you take a deep breath, blinking them away.

"I had a vision yesterday. A warning," you finally manage. Your voice is strained, and your eyes fall shut. You don't want to see his reaction. "About...well, it was about me, I think. I was trying to figure out a way to control the darkness, to channel it, and I guess the Force was trying to tell me something. Or warn me, I'm not sure. Either way, I can't stop thinking about it. What it meant. And what will happen if I don't find a way to stop it."

Rex's breath catches, and his hands find your shoulders, gripping you tightly.

"What did you see?" he asks, a tremor in his words. "In the vision."

Your stomach twists, and you force yourself to meet his gaze.

"Fire," you whisper. "Death. Destruction. A thousand voices, crying out, pleading for help. And I couldn't do anything. I just stood there, watching, as they all died."

Rex's hands tremble as he pulls you close, his palms resting on your lower back, and his touch is comforting, grounding.

"What else?" he asks, his voice soft. "Did you see anything else? Anything that might have helped?"

You hesitate, and his gaze flickers over your face, his eyes searching.

"I saw..." you trail off and take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "There was a city, burning, and I was alone. Everyone was gone. Dead. And I..."

You close your eyes, the images flashing through your mind. You can't tell him. You can't bear it. You can't bear to see the look in his eyes if you tell him he's the one who kills you, and you can't bear to hear him deny it.

He deserves the truth. He does. But not now. Not like this.

You can't tell him.

Not yet.

"I saw myself," you finally say. It's not a lie, not exactly. "I think I lost control. The darkness took over, and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop myself."

Rex's expression darkens, and he pulls you closer still. His grip is almost possessive, protective, and his hands slide up, cupping the back of your neck.

"That's not going to happen," he says firmly. His tone is sharp, brooking no argument, and his eyes flash, the gold flecks standing out. "I won't let it."

You can't help but smile at the determination in his voice, at the sheer certainty of his conviction.

It's not his fight. It's not his responsibility. But you appreciate the gesture. You appreciate the way he cares, the way he worries. The way he tries, in his own way, to keep you safe.

He won't let you down.

But he will have to, eventually.

You can't help but reach up, placing a hand on his cheek, the stubble scratching your palm.

"Maybe," you murmur. You can't bear to argue, not now, and you close your eyes, resting your forehead against his. "Maybe not."

Rex sighs, and he gives you a small shake, his fingers flexing against your back.

"Look at me," he orders. His voice is stern, but there's a hint of desperation, and the emotion in his tone tugs at your heart. "Look at me."

You do as he asks, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze. The gold flecks are bright, burning with a passion, and there's an intensity to his expression, a ferocity, that takes your breath away.

"It's not going to happen, and that's the end of it. Okay?"

His tone is so commanding, so authoritative, that you can't help but nod. You know better than to argue, and you can't bring yourself to speak, so you simply stare at him, your heart racing.

"We're going to figure this out," he promises, his voice gentle. "Together. You and me. We'll figure it out."

You swallow, and your hand slides down, tracing along his jaw, the stubble prickling your palm.

It's a sweet lie, a gentle fantasy, but you can't bring yourself to argue. He's so earnest, so confident, and you want more than anything to believe him. Believe in him. He's never failed you before, and you trust him. You have faith in him.

You want, desperately, to believe that the two of you will be okay. That he won't let the darkness take you. That he won't let the future come to pass.

"We'll figure it out," he repeats. His thumb moves across your cheek again, and his gaze flickers between your eyes, searching for a response. "Alright?"

The words are a lie, a false hope, and you know better. But the look in his eyes, the intensity, the passion, the desperation, the love...it's too much, and the lie, the fantasy, becomes real. For a moment, just a moment, you allow yourself to believe him. 

You wrap your arms around Rex's neck and pull him down into a tight embrace, standing on your toes to meet him halfway. He stiffens in surprise, but his hands move to the small of your back, pulling you closer. He buries his face in your hair, breathing deeply, and the action sends a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you," you murmur, and your lips brush against his neck. "Thank you."

Rex doesn't respond, but he squeezes you tighter, his hands trailing up your back, tracing along the curve of your spine. His breath is warm against your ear, and the sensation sends a thrill through you, a shiver running down your spine.

You know better. You've seen the future, the path that awaits you. The fire, the death, the destruction. But for now, for this moment, you allow yourself to live in the lie. To believe that the two of you will be okay. That things will work out, in the end.

"I don't know what I would do without you," you confess, and the words are quiet, barely a whisper. "I...thank you. For being here."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he replies, his voice rough. He pulls back, his gaze finding yours. "And you never have to thank me, for any of this. Being here. Protecting you. Being your friend. I'm glad to do it. You know that, right?"

Your smile widens, and you can't stop the heat from rising in your cheeks.

"Yeah, I do," you manage. Your voice is thick with emotion, and you look away, embarrassed. "I'm just...I'm glad you're here."

Rex lets out a low chuckle, and he leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead. The contact is light, almost hesitant, but the gesture sends a thrill through your body, and you close your eyes, relishing the sensation.

"So am I," he murmurs, the words spoken softly against your skin. He lingers for a moment, his nose pressed into your hair, and he sighs. "So am I."

He finally releases his grip on you, and your hand slides from his neck as he takes a step back. The distance between the two of you is suddenly noticeable, and you can't help the slight shiver that runs through you at the absence.

You open your mouth, the apology on the tip of your tongue, but the look in his eyes silences the words. He doesn't want to hear it. Doesn't want the space, doesn't want the separation. He's here, and he's not letting go. And neither are you.

Instead, your eyes flick to the chrono on the wall, and your stomach drops. "Shit. I'm late."

"Late?" Rex repeats, a note of confusion in his voice. He glances at his wrist, and his eyes widen "I didn't realize...kriff, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you—"

"It's okay, it was worth it," you assure him as you rush over to the bench, throwing your equipment back on before sitting down to pull on your boots. You look up at him, a small smirk tugging at your lips. "Besides, they're used to me being late by now."

Rex huffs and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You shouldn't make a habit of it," he chides, his brow furrowed. "It's not a good way to start the day. They're probably going to be even less forgiving now, considering what happened."

"Well, if anyone has a problem with my punctuality, they can talk to me about it," you retort. You pull the laces tight and stand, straightening your tunic. "Personally, I don't think they have a leg to stand on. And if they want me to be on time, they shouldn't keep changing the meetings."

"You're impossible, you know that?" Rex snorts, and a small smile crosses his lips. "We don't need to give the Council any more reasons to dislike us."

"Us?" you tease as you grab your outer robe, fumbling with the clasp around your neck. "Pretty sure it's just me they don't like. You're the perfect soldier, after all. They have nothing but praise for you."

"Yeah, well, they don't know what they're talking about. You're a good general," he mutters, and his hands move to your shoulders, gently turning you around. He brushes the strands of hair aside and reaches for the clasp, his hands gently pushing yours away. "Let me get that. You're going to rip the thing."

You can't help but laugh, and the heat rises in your cheeks as his fingers brush your collarbone. 

"I've done this a hundred times," you protest weakly.

"Humor me," Rex replies, his voice gentle. His gaze flickers up, and he flashes you a wry smile.

You sigh and hold still, allowing him to do the clasp. You can't help but watch him, the way his expression shifts, the crease in his brow, the set of his jaw. The weight of his words settles over you, and the realization that he truly means it, that he believes it, warms your heart.

You've spent so long feeling as though you've let everyone down, as though you're a disappointment. But Rex doesn't think that. He sees something different. He sees you. He always has.

The clasp snaps closed, and his hands drop to your shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

"There. All set," he murmurs. His thumbs stroke the fabric, and his eyes find yours. "Don't worry about the Council. Just...keep doing what you're doing. Don't change, okay?"

Your heart flutters, and you place a hand over his.

"You're sweet," you say, watching as the color rises in his cheeks. He grunts and shakes his head, pulling his hands away, and you smile. "Really, you are."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles as he moves back to his discarded armor, grabbing his chest plate and slipping it over his head. He lifts his head and nods toward the door. "Get out of here."

"Yes sir," you quip, giving him a mock salute as you walk past. He rolls his eyes and chuckles, the blush still visible. "I'll see you later. And next time, we'll use actual blades. If you can handle it."

Rex huffs and shakes his head.

"I can handle it," he says firmly, his voice tinged with annoyance. You smirk, and his eyes narrow. "I can."

"Of course," you reply, giving him a wink. You push the button for the door, and it slides open. "If you say so."

He grumbles under his breath and waves a hand at you, turning his attention back to his armor.

You pause in the doorway, unable to tear your gaze away. It's hard not to think about how lucky you are, to have him. To have his friendship, his support. To have his love. He's a constant in your life, a pillar of strength, and you're not sure where you would be without him. How far you would have fallen.

You can't help but think that the Force must have some sort of plan, some sort of purpose for bringing him into your life, for letting him into your heart. For giving you this. For allowing him to give you this.

You turn and face him, taking a moment to savor the sight. To burn the image into your mind, to memorize the details. The curve of his spine, the broadness of his shoulders, the strength in his movements. The way he carries himself, the confidence in his stride. The warmth of his gaze, the kindness in his touch.

Before you realize what you’re doing, you’re speaking.

"Rex?" you ask softly, and he glances at you, his brow raised.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say..." You trail off and swallow, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I meant what I said. Earlier. I...It's never been that. It's never been for a lack of want. Not for me."

Rex goes still, and the flush creeps back up his neck, his mouth falling open. He doesn't speak, doesn't move. He doesn't seem to breathe. You're not sure if he even blinks.

You give him a shy smile and duck your head, stepping backwards into the hall.

"Just thought I should tell you in case...in case I don't get a chance to," you add. You take a deep breath and step further out into the hall, giving him a small wave. "I'll see you later."

"Okay," he manages, his voice a strained whisper. His hand is at his throat, fingers fiddling with the collar of his blacks. He clears his throat and swallows, his expression softening. "Okay. I'll...I'll see you later."

The doors slide shut, and you turn away, hurrying toward the lift. Your heart is racing, your hands shaking, and a blush is spreading to the tips of your ears. You're not sure why you said it, but you can't bring yourself to regret the words. They were the truth, and you needed him to know. Even if the future is uncertain, even if it's bleak and terrifying, you needed him to know.

It's a small comfort, a tiny reassurance, but it's there, and it's yours.

You can't burden him with the whole truth, not yet, but this...this is something. Something you can give him, something you can leave behind, should the worst come to pass.

You'll tell him the rest eventually. When the time is right. You'll tell him everything. Once you figure out a way to control the darkness, a way to channel it, to bend it to your will. Once you've figured out a way to make it safe, to make it right. To make sure it doesn't end the way the vision did.

The Force has given you an opportunity to change things. You have to believe that. It's shown the path that lies ahead, and what will happen if you lose control. It's shown the pain, the fire, the destruction, and you won't allow it. You can't.

Rex deserves more. He deserves a future, a happy ending, a chance at something better than war and death and loss. And if the Force has brought him into your life, if the Force has granted him the ability to touch your heart and soul, to heal the broken parts and fill the empty spaces, if the Force has given you this chance, you won't let him down.

You won't fail him.

You'll find a way.

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[towriteloveontheirarms]

Hidden behind the gardenias (Alicent Hightower x Reader)

synopsis: On a warm day Alicent and you spend some time shielded away from everyone´s eyes.

warnings: period typical homophobia, fluff and smut, thigh riding, afab reader

word count: 2k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by me

It was a beautiful summer day, that had driven Alicent and you outside to the gardens. The two you had gotten a blanket and a basket of sweets from the kitchen and snuck into a place of the gardens that hid your forms behind tall bushes and trees. Your head laid comfortably in her lap as you feed each other the pastries and laughed about some gossip or another that you had heard around court. Yet Alicent can't keep her mind from wandering. Just like her gaze it always wanders back to your lips and as the sound of your laugh sounds through your secret hide out, thoughts about the forbidden demand her attention. By the seven she usually would know better than to be tempted into sin so easily, but her heart longs to feel the touch of your lips on hers. Her heart keeps whispering that it would be worth it, so she knows that the only way to truly know is to take the risk, she brings her face closer to yours, looking at your lips. May the seven condemn her.

At the same time your lips part slightly in unspoken curiosity of what she was planning. Eyes searching, in hopes to find even the slightest give away to what led her to those actions in Alicent's face. Your gaze on its own is enough of an encouragement for the youngest Hightower. She looks at your lips for a few seconds, taking in the sight and feeling how her heart beats faster with every second. A light blush tints her pale cheeks and then her lips barely touch yours for only a moment, but it is long enough to get a taste that lingers on both your lips. Alicent pulls away feeling breathless, with a smile that slowly forms in her face, waiting for your reaction, nervous yet expectant.

Instantly your cheeks begin to burn as you lift your head from her lap. Your heart beats uncontrollably, threatening to break free from the excitement and giddiness buzzing through your veins.

"Now how did I deserve that, my lady?" I say in the end with a breathy voice and small smile as my whole body begins to tingle.

Alicent's ears become pinker with the sound of your voice, feeling even more embarrassed for her bold move, she feels the excitement and thrill, feeling her heart beat more and more. Her smile grows as she replies, keeping her gaze on yours, the adrenaline and butterflies in her stomach making her want to do it again, if only for another taste.

"Did you not like it?"

"On the contrary." You begin to play with her fingers, kissing the tip of each one of them. “In fact, I believe this is the most excited I have ever felt in my life after receiving someone's affection."

And there is no truer statement. The thought of being with her was the first time you felt comfortable with the thought of courting. If only you were allowed to actually do so openly.

"Is that truly so?"  she asks softly, a gasp of surprise in the undertone of her voice. The way her eyes lay on your lips caressing her, it seems as if she was trying to read the deepest part of your soul. On her arms a layer of goosebump became visible when she shivered.

"It is." You look at Alicent through your eyelashes.

The longer the two of you stay like this, the more you grow glad for this special spot in the gardens, for hiding you from prying eyes. It simply allowed two young women to express their affections without having to fear repercussions. Alicent can't help but blush deeper at your words, feeling the heat in her cheeks and her chest, she feels as if she is going to pass out. With every second of this encounter, she wants more.

"Will you allow me to taste your lips one more time?" She requests in a raspy voice, her lips now getting close to yours again.

With stopping motions you inch towards each other, until you feel her sweet lips on yours once more. This time for a longer moment. When you part you can´t hold back but whisper the first thought that comes to your mind.

"I wish we could run away together. To the free cities or the land beyond. Just anywhere but here."

Alicent's breath is noticeably taken away by your confession. The thought runs in her mind as well, if there only could be a way to escape from the responsibilities they have and leave these lands for a better and freer one. But reality sets in all too soon, and she responds with great tenderness and affection.

"Unfortunately, our paths and obligations keep us tied to this place, but you have made me dream this dream as well."

"I know. I simply wish I could be free to love you. As long as we are here, we will have to hide. They will never accept us." I sigh deeply.

"You are right, but simply because we cannot change our fate, does not mean I cannot let my skin learn to feel your touch and kisses."  With that she runs a finger lightly down your neck and across your lower jaw.

She would not let the social conventions or the faith ruin this for her. For both of you. This feeling was too good to keep it locked away. A shaky breath flutters from your lungs at the gentleness of the touch. It feels like your heart is about to jump out of your chest.

Speechless you nuzzle your face against hers. Your forehead and nose rest comfortably against Alicent's warm cheek as one of your hands comes up to play with her hair. The other tracing a finger over her facial features. Desperate to feel her skin.

"You have such tender hands..." 

"You must have been made by the gods. For you are simply perfect." I whisper against her lips. This time the kiss is less hesitant, though it is still chaste. “The sweetest sin to have ever tempted me.”

"Sweetest sin?  Have I corrupted you then?" Alicent chuckles.

"I believe you have. Now you better come and save me from the threat of the seven hells." You tease her back with a smile.

You have never felt this giddy and don't know where to put this energy that tingles all through you.

Your hands cup her cheeks, as you begin to place kisses all over her face.

Alicent´s hands wander to your waist to keep you steady, wishing to keep you close as she feels the warmth of your hands on her face, but in the end the two of you topple over. Falling side by side into the soft grass, giggling.

"I would do anything to save you from that fate." She says softly, her hands now going from your waist to your hips.

It becomes physically impossible to keep your lips away from hers any longer, though this time you don't go to kiss her immediately. Instead, you let the tip of your tongue flick out experimentally and a bit ungainly to tease her lower lip. The sugary taste from earlier treats still lingers on the rosy skin.

Instantly Alicent´s lips part and her tongue coyly meet yours, the feelings she is experiencing now, her entire body trembles at the action and she can't help but giggle softly, the touch, the action, everything feels so good. The young woman´s hands run over the fabric of the dress, from your hips to your back, where the rub small circles as they pull you closer to her, even though there was barely any air left between the two of you already.

Her eyes look at you full of desire and joy, suddenly heating up the last bit of air that has been left. Tasting it, the two of you explore each other's mouths in a deep, mutually clumsy kiss. The both of you lay on your sides, taking in the divine sight that is the other’s relaxed face.

“I would follow you anywhere.” It's a promise that you would mean until the last breath left your body.

“Anywhere?” Is the almost unbelieving answer you get.

"No matter where you want me to be, I'll be there. Your presence could make even the deepest hell seem like the highest of heavens.”

Suddenly the air around you grows even thicker. You are so close to each other and Alicent smells even sweeter than the flowers around you. So, you can´t resist but to hold her tighter to your body and slipping one of your legs between hers. The moment of possessiveness behind it is welcome, though it also fires the change in mood between you.

“Then I wish for you to never leave my side.” Alicent's breath fans over your neck.

“As if I could ever resist you…” you murmur back.

You are locked into each other's gazes so much that you only realize that you were moving closer, when you meet in another kiss. Lips locking, hands growing more frantic with every moment, both of your bodies demanding more yet never getting enough.

Your breathing grows heavier the longer you go on and soft whines can be heard from Alicent. So wrapped up in the moment, neither of you realize at first, that you had begun to move your cores against the other's thigh. Little shocks of delicate pleasure running up your spines and etching into your faces from the stimulation of your sensitive pearls. When you do, your hands hold onto Alicent's hips, guiding her every move, while the brunette's lips graze your jawline and neck.

“Is this alright?” You whisper into her ear as one of your hands sneaks up to cup one of her breasts over the dress.

Alicent's mouth opens ever so slightly at the new sensation.

“Yes, please keep going.” She hums with the hints of oncoming ecstasy coloring the tone of her voice.

The fluttering sensation of an impending release begins to settle in the pit of your stomach, tickling and tingling all over your skin and quickly forming a tight knot. Alicent´s actions make it wound tighter fast, however. Her body nestles against the curves of yours perfectly, like you were truly made for each other. Her hands cup your breasts exemplary, bringing divine pleasure by pinching and rolling the sensitive mounds between her gentle fingers, receiving the same treatment back from yours. The two if you pause for a moment when your hand comes to lay under the brunette’s chin making her look you in the eyes with those beautiful brown ones of hers.

Then when you move in for yet another brush of the lips, you move against each other with seemingly renewed vigour. Your companion is simply too irresistible with her kiss swollen lips and that utterly taken gaze in her wide eyes.

“You are so perfect.” You mutter against Alicent's lips.

“So are you.” She answers in the same way.

“I can't hold on any longer.” You warn her, promptly beginning to shake all over from the gentle force of your love making.

Your legs are trembling and you let out a garbled moan as you find your release, pussy clenching and spasming around nothing. Alicent follows you almost immediately, succumbing to the pleasure as she helps you ride out your high.

Her fingers run up your back, burying themselves between the strands of your hair to rest at and massage your scalp. If she would get her choice in life, the two of you would stay there forever. Intertwined with each other in your special spot in the garden.

“Promise me that you will never leave my side. I could not stand to be away from you.” Alicent whimpers with her hips snapping up instinctively in the aftermath of your time together.

“I swear to you, my lady Hightower. I have never once thought about leaving your side, but after the moment we have shared I pray for the gods to strike me down should the thought even so much as cross my mind.” You smile at her, brightly and happily to mirror the overwhelming feeling inside her at the plea. With you she would never have to wish for anything.

[gauloiseblue]

Medic!Reader × Poly!141

Part I | Part II | Part III

[Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, a love confession if you squint]

Taglist: @rainlovesyou12 @nijiru

When you're back at the base, the first thing that you get from your team is collective stares

"What happened to your cheek?" Price asked, visibly concerned

"Got punched by an asshole." You replied, still holding the ice pack against your face

"How did it happen?" He then glares at Graves, "You let this happen on your watch?"

He throws both of his hands in the air, while maintaining his smug face, "Easy there, soldiers." He said, "Sorry that I got your princess harmed, but it's necessary for the mission."

"Necessary?" Price growls, "Watch your mouth when you speak, Graves."

"Alright, alright. I'll leave." He then pats on Gaz's shoulder before turning around

The group immediately approaches you after he leaves, trying to look at your wound

"Whoa, he really gave you a nasty punch." Soap commented, "He wore rings?"

"All over his fingers."

"It'll take long before the bruise heals." Ghost interjected, "Since you're the medic here, I'm sure you know what's best for you."

Price nods before he looks at you, "You don't have to work today, you can rest after a mission."

"No, I'll come to work." You said, "Don't worry about me, captain."

He seems reluctant, but lets you do it anyway

Thankfully, your job requires you to use a mask, so most of your bruises are concealed.

At dinner, Graves brings quite a lot of alcohol to celebrate their mission. (The team had retrieved the important documents, as well as eliminating the target, so It's pretty much a success)

You usually skipped alcohol, but tonight you feel like you need it, so you join in

The table that you're in is pretty big, so three other soldiers are sitting with you and you team

Surprisingly, your team can handle their alcohol very well, but Soap is a lively drunkard, he talks a lot, and keeps the alcohol flows

Meanwhile, you're a chatty drunk. You can't keep a secret when you're drunk

"He touched me with his filthy hand, so of course I'd slap him." You confessed, "But then he dared to punch me in the face. The audacity."

"That's rough." Gaz winced

"But y'know, sometimes our job comes with those kinds of things." One of the men shrugged, "I didn't ask for it when I got shot or tortured, but then again, that's the consequences of my job."

"I didn't ask to be a surveillance." You hissed, "I'm just a medic, for God's sake."

"You could've ask him—"

"I did! I even tried to reason with him but nooo, he did care." You grit your teeth, "Even after roping me into this, he never once gave me any info for the mission and told me to be pretty and meek. At least I could've prepared if he told me things I could be dealing with during the mission."

"Cut it out, boy." Price stopped him before he could reply, "Y'know Graves was in the wrong here. We always brief our soldiers before missions."

"I'm not defending him."

The other man, who's silent for the whole interaction, finally speaks, "Maybe he did it because you've been using his name for unnecessary things."

You snort, "Somehow borrowing his name equals me almost getting raped?"

He shrugs, "Sometimes mentioning a certain name equals death."

"Yeah, okay, I get it." You immediately got up from your seat, "I'm just a spoiled bastard who can't handle the slightest discomfort aren't I?"

"Where are ye goin'?" Soap called when you're walking away

"My room. I'm tired of this shit."

Once you get into your room, you don’t bother to change your clothes as you go straight to bed

Of course, after getting angry and all, you can't immediately fall asleep. It takes about 15 minutes, before you're free from your anger

Then, you hear a knock on the door, before you hear a voice calls your name softly from outside

"Are you still awake?" You heard Price spoke

You contemplate whether you should answer or not, and decide to pick the first one

"Can I come in?" He asked, and you said yes

He steps inside, and pulls a chair by your bed. You turn around to see him, not hiding the tears streak on your face

"I'm sorry for what happened earlier, I hope you know he didn't mean that."

"I know." You frown while looking away, "I know all of those soldiers didn't mean to yell, or use hurtful words, I understand that, but I always try to comfort them, not telling them to grin and bear it."

He nods understandingly, "The constant threat in the field does make people numb to other's needs."

"Why are you here? Are you apologizing on their behalf?"

"No, I just got a feeling that you'd change division if I didn't clear it up."

You let out an amused snort, "I was just thinking about leaving. I hate Graves anyway."

"I won't force you to stay but I'll be very sad if you don't, you know how much I love your food." You roll your eyes at him, he chuckles, "Please hold on for one more month, then we'll go back home, to our base."

"Well, I can't disobey you if you say that, Captain."

"You better be."

You chuckle at him, and he gives you his usual (and sweet) smile. "Thank you, Price. I really do."

"No prob." He pats your arm, "You can talk to me whenever you want."

"I'll keep it in mind."

The next morning, when you're preparing your medical equipments, a patient comes into the room, and catches you by surprise as you recognize his face

"Johnny? Oh—" You hurriedly come to his side, "What happened to your face?"

"Got into a fight last nite." He grins, "Y'should've seen the other guy tho."

"My God, why did you do that? Who was it?" He looked away when you asked him, "... Don't tell me,"

"Ye don't 've ta worry 'bout it, bonnie."

"You can't make me not worry about you." You retorted, "They could've given a penalty!"

"Nah, they won't. 'M too valuable for that."

"Still," You let out a sigh, "You didn't have to do that."

"Yer angry at 'em."

"But it's only for a moment. I'm… used to that."

He looks at you for a moment, before pulling your hand into his. "Bonnie, ye kno' when you asked me to be a fake boyfie, ye told me that no one in the group'd be willin' ta help ya?" You furrow your brows at him as he continues, "Well, t'was a lie. They won't hesitate ta help ya, bonnie. But I didn't tell ya because I don't want 'em to."

You open your mouth to speak, but no word comes out of your mouth.

He chuckles at your silence, before giving your shoulder a pat." Make of that wha' yer will."

With that, he left the room. Leaving you there, dumbfounded, before you realize you haven't even treated him yet

You thought about him for half of a day, until lunch came and you sat down on the table without looking around. You didn't hear when the chair beside you was pulled, before someone took a seat

"Man, I miss your cooking." You snapped out of your thoughts, as you turned to see Gaz. "Everything tastes bland here, I can't even tell the difference between one dish and the other."

You chuckle when he pokes out his tongue in dismay, "I miss cooking too," You stare down at your plate, "... Helped me clear my mind."

"What's on your mind?" He asked, "Care to share?"

"Not sure if you'd wanna hear it though."

"What are you saying?" He retorted softly as he gave your shoulder a squeeze, "You know I'd listen to you."

"You're sweet, Gaz." You chuckled, "But really, I just wanna go back to our base. But at the same time, I feel like I'm just retreating back to my shell. I know that I can't be choosy for this job, but I wish I could be with you guys for a long time."

His gaze stays on you for a while, before he speaks in a hushed tone, "Don't tell anyone that I say this to you, but last night, me and Price were discussing about your contract, and," He leans closer, "It's possible to do a rescission for the contract. Since you've been put in harm's way."

"Really?"

He nods, "He might pull some strings to get you back, but the higher ups would dismiss it since you're not an operator. We're confident that this'll work, since Laswell herself has approved it."

You look at him for a moment, before pulling him into your arms. "Thank you." You said to him, "I don't know what I'd do without you guys."

You feel him smile before he pats your back, "People said that you're a spoiled princess," He grinned, "But we certainly don't mind spoiling you."

"You'll regret it someday."

"You're worth the regret."

His words stuck with you for the rest of the day, and somehow it lifted up your spirit as you took care of the wounded with ease. At night, when you're walking back to your room, you spot the masked man in the hallway. His head turns when you call his name, and you wave at him.

"Hi."

"Hey."

"Are you done for the day?"

"Mostly." He replied, "Just need to fill some paperwork."

"Alright then."

The two of you would bid goodbye, if you both didn't hear the angry stomp echoing in the corridor. You turn your head towards the sound, and your blood runs cold as you recognize the face

"I need to talk to you." Graves said with an unmistakable rage in his voice, "My office. Now."

You're about to open your mouth before you feel yourself pulled, until your body bumps against a hard muscle. It takes a second before you realize that Simon has his arm wrapped around you.

"Get outta the way, boy." He warned with a glare, "It's none of your business."

"No." He stated, as he kept you by his side

He snorts when he hears it. "No?" He sneered

"If it's about the revocation of the contract, she's not the one who filed it." He glared, "I did."

"Oh." He raised his brow in a mocking manner, "So you're the one who wrote those things?"

"Affirmative." He responded, "I was the one who saw her during the assault, so I'm eligible to give the account as a witness."

You see his muscles harden under his neck, as he hisses to the masked man, "I hope you're ready for Russia because that's where I'm sending you."

"Go ahead and try."

Just like that, the storm has passed by.

You don't know how long you stand there, before he reluctantly lets you go from his arm. You clear your throat as you step aside to face him.

"Um… Thank you." You told him while looking down

You feel his eyes on you, before his hand reaches up to pat your head. "It's nothing."

He bids you goodnight as he tells you to return to your room. You obey as you walk to your door, but when you look back to see him, you still find him standing on the same spot

The next morning, when you deliver your report to the Captain's office, you notice a familiar figure by his desk

The two men were talking, before they lifted their head when you walked in

"Hi." You greeted them, "Hope I'm not interrupting?"

"Not at all." Price reassured, "We were just discussing over something."

"Somethin' ta help fo' yer case, bonnie." His captain nudged him when he said it, "Wot? 'M sho she a'ready knew."

"Is it about Graves?"

"Well," He sighs, "It is. We were just talking about the things that he submitted as evidence."

You shot him a puzzled look, before you turn to Soap.

"The letters, bonnie." He grinned, "I gave him the letters tha' bastard wrote."

"You still had those with you?"

"'Course!" He chuckled, "Ah wanted to use it to rile him up, turns out they're useful for yer case."

"While they won't be included as real evidence, they're enough to convince Laswell to give her approval."

You look at him, while hugging the file close to your chest. "Price, I don't know if I could even repay you back—"

"Don't worry about it, (Name)." He dismissed it by a flick of his hand, "It's my job to ensure your safety."

"And out job ta keep the valuable member o' the team by our side." Soap added with a pat on your back, "Graves can bugger off with his shite."

"Oh…" You cover your mouth, trying to contain your emotions. "Thank you, I—"

"Stop it, bonnie." He said as he pulled you against his chest, "You owe us nothin'."

You didn't cry joyless tears, but they didn't know since you couldn't speak through your sob. You feel bad for causing them to panic, since you cry not out of distress, rather, you're touched by their kindness. When you feel Soap's embrace tightens, and your Captain's hand on your back, you can't help but indulge for a little while

[stylesispunk]

"I couldn't want you anymore" | part 2

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next | masterlist |

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: no use of y/n, bee is the reader's nickname Joel gave to her. There is some slight angst, fluff, and an age gap(Joel is 36 and reader is 28)

a/n: Hello! chapter 2 is here. Firstly, I want to thank everyone for reading this fic, I was really excited about writing this story and I appreciated all your comments, reblogs, and all <3 Which, by the way, are always appreciated. I hope you like this chapter as things start to escalate from here. Happy reading! and please feel free to share your thoughts with me. If you want to be added to the taglist, please tell me 💌

“You did what?" Tommy asked Joel, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair as he reluctantly admitted, "I asked her to pretend to be my girlfriend."

Tommy couldn't hide his disbelief. "I can't believe you asked her to pretend to be your girlfriend."

Joel chuckled, trying to downplay the situation. "Well, it's not like I had a lot of options, and it's just a temporary arrangement."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying Joel's nonchalant attitude. "You know, I think there's more to it than that."

Joel furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

Tommy leaned in closer, a mischievous grin on his face. "The only reason you don't like her is because you had a crush on her when she arrived."

Joel's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he sputtered in protest. "No, I didn't!"

Tommy just shrugged, clearly not convinced. "Whatever you say, Joel."

“Look, the only reason I’m doing this is because I don’t want Lauren with me. One thing is she wants to know Sarah and another one her wanting to be a family”

“So, your only solution was asking her to pretend to love you? 

Joel didn’t reply.

“You’re fucked” he said laughing at his big brother. 

“It's not about love, Tommy. It's about keeping Lauren away from me"

Tommy's grin softened a little bit "I get it, Joel. You're trying to do what's best for Sarah, and I respect that. Just be careful, okay? These fake relationships have a way of getting complicated, if you know what I mean” 

With that, Tommy made his way upstairs leaving Joel alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had put himself in a turbulent situation that could cost him something. 

At the same but in a different place of the city, the same situation was happening with you and your best friend.

"Wait, you did what?" Lily, your best friend, exclaimed in disbelief as you recounted the events of the past few days.

You leaned back in your chair, sighing. "I agreed to pretend to be Joel's girlfriend so he can convince his ex that he's moved on."

Lily raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on her face. "And why would you agree to that? You've never got along”

You rolled your eyes, knowing she had a point. "Trust me, I didn't want to, but he was desperate, and well, I think that maybe this could help us to get along.

Lily's grin widened as she leaned in closer, clearly enjoying the news "I can't believe you're playing his girlfriend. The same guy you've called a dick for years”

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion. "I know, it's insane. But it's just temporary, and we both know it's just an act.”

“Oh, but do you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” 

“I just want you to be careful with your heart,” she said, taking a seat beside you “Remember when you and Conell broke up because he left for Europe? You were heartbroken and I don’t want to ever see you like that again.” 

“That was real. I loved Conell”, you reminded her. “And this is not real.” 

Her expression was still serious, so you gave in and nodded at Lily’s words, “I’ll be careful, I promise.” 

Lily gave you a reassuring smile. "Okay, as long as you're aware of the risks. Just don't forget that you deserve someone who's genuine and treats you right."

You leaned in and gave her a quick hug. "Like who?"

“Conell. He was the best boyfriend you had.” 

You smile at her, but you couldn’t help but feel this could lead you to have a real heartbreak. 

The following day, Joel was opening his gallery, trying to put the events of the previous day off of his mind. He truly thought he was stupid for asking you to pretend to be his girlfriend. He couldn’t sleep because of it, he felt he had made a mistake, especially because he found himself unable to stop thinking about you. 

Even when he unlocked the gallery doors and began arranging his art and tools, his thoughts kept drifting to you. The way you had looked at him, the unexpected spark when your hands briefly touched—it was consuming his thoughts.

Just as he was settling into his work, the sound of footsteps from behind caught him off guard. 

He turned around expecting to find you, but when he faced Lauren standing there, he felt disappointed.

"Lauren," he greeted her, his tone polite but distant. "What brings you here today, again?"

Lauren looked around the gallery with admiration. Joel was a really talented man and his work showed it. "I got a job in the building across the street," she said, gesturing to the building in front of Joel's gallery. "I'll be working there, so I thought we could have lunch together sometime."

Joel's heart sank at the news. Having his ex, who was trying to rekindle their relationship, working just across the street was the last thing he wanted. But he couldn't stop the nagging feeling that his thoughts were drifting back to you and how your (his) already complicated plan was going to become a harder task to do.

“I don’t feel it's correct for us to have lunch,” he said.

“Why? Your girlfriend doesn’t allow you to have female friends?”

“You’re not my friend Lauren” he replied shortly.

“But I’m the mother of your child.” 

“The one who abandoned her. Besides Sarah is 13, she is not a child anymore.”

Lauren's face twisted with frustration, guilt, and a hint of sadness. She had hoped that her return would be met with open arms and forgiveness, that Joel was going to be there waiting for her to return, but instead, she faced the truth of him moving on. 

"I know I made mistakes, Joel," Lauren admitted, her voice carrying the regret of her actions "Leaving you and Sarah was the biggest one. But I'm here now, trying to make amends. Can't we at least try to be civil for Sarah's sake?"

Joel hesitated, he had built a life for himself and Sarah in Lauren's absence, and he didn’t trust her intentions completely. “It's not that simple, Lauren. You can't just walk back into our lives and expect everything to be as it was."

Lauren's shoulders slumped, and she let out a heavy sigh. "I understand that, Joel. But I'm willing to work on it, to earn back your trust and Sarah's love."

Joel met her gaze, his eyes reflecting a tint of longing for her. After all, she was right, she was Sarah’s mother. Nevertheless, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to you.

And as he had called you with his mind, the gallery's entrance door suddenly swung open, breaking the momentary silence. Both Joel and Lauren turned to see you, entering the gallery carrying a cup of coffee and a bag of pastries.

You glanced between them, sensing the tension in the air, and cleared your throat before speaking.

“Joel?”

The sound of your voice broke Joel's tension and a sense of relief rushed inside him, and he managed a grateful smile at your arrival.

“Baby. I missed you” he said as he approached you, signaling you to keep the act. 

You fake the best of your smiles in order to follow the lines of this stupid plan he made up.

“Me too, my honey bee”, her smile was so big, and Joel knew he had continued the laugh at the name. 

“Honey bee?” Lauren interrupted, as she crossed her arms.

“Yes. It’s a joke, you know. Because I’m a florist, get it?” you said. 

Joel wrapped his arm around you, squeezing a little bit harder than he should.

“Look, sunflower. I didn’t really have the chance to introduce you both properly yesterday. This is Lauren, Sarah’s mother.” 

You extended your hand toward her with a tight smile. 

“Nice to meet you." She shook your hand politely, maintaining a composed demeanor. 

“Oh, I’m sorry for my behavior yesterday. I was stressed. ” You apologized, feigning politeness and keeping up the facade as you continued to play your part in this.

Lauren nodded; her initial reservations seemingly put at ease by your polite behavior. "No need to apologize. It's nice to meet you, Bee?"

You nodded “This is what this one calls me”, you smiled, looking at Joel.

Joel, relieved that the tension decreased a little, spoke "A special name for my special lady.” 

“Am I?” you asked Joel through your teeth.

He nodded, keeping his smile in place. “You don’t have to pretend you’re not, honey.”

You grit your teeth and bop his nose with your finger. 

Lauren's curiosity got the better of her as she looked around the gallery. "It's a lovely gallery you have here, Joel. You must be proud." 

Joel nodded, his pride in his gallery evident. "Thank you, Lauren. Then he directs his look at you. “Actually, in a few weeks, I have a new exhibition and my bee here is helping with everything. Don’t you honey?”

“I’m gonna make you pay, Joel Miller” you whispered in his ear, without dropping your smile.

“I wanna see you try” he answered defiantly. 

"So, how did you two meet?" Lauren asked, her tone casual but her curiosity evident.

Joel exchanged a quick glance with you, and for a moment, his guard slipped. He hadn't anticipated this type of question, and he knew that any answer he gave would need to be natural.

"We met at the gallery," Joel replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "She was a regular, always coming to see art, but I feel I was the art she wanted to look at.”

You laughed and nodded, playing your part in the charade. "Yes, I've always been a fan of Joel. It was only a matter of time before we connected on a more personal level."

Lauren raised an eyebrow, her skepticism growing. "It's just... you both seem so different."

Joel and you exchanged another look, this time with a touch of unease. "Well, you know what they say, opposites attract," Joel offered with a forced chuckle.

Lauren didn't seem entirely convinced, but she let the matter drop for now. 

Joel couldn't help but wonder how much longer he could keep this act, especially with someone as perceptive as Lauren watching every move.

“I just came to give this," you said. Giving the coffee and the pastries to Joel. 

Your nice act was unexpected for him. It actually warmed his heart how attentive you were, and the little details like this. he found himself in awe of you.

Joel accepted the coffee and pastries with a grateful smile, genuinely touched by your thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Bee. You didn't have to do this, but I appreciate it."

You shrugged casually, trying to keep up the appearance of a loving girlfriend. "I know you're always so busy with the gallery, and I thought you could use a little pick-me-up."

Lauren watched the interaction with a hint of curiosity, and Joel couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for the elaborate web of lies he had created.

He had to remind himself he was doing this to protect Sarah and his own heart, there was no way he was going to fall for you. 

“So, I’m gonna go now. I have things to arrange with the shop” you said, placing your hand delicately on his upper arm. 

Joel nodded, his eyes briefly meeting yours. "Of course, honey. We'll catch up later."

Lauren also gave you a polite nod. "It was nice meeting you, Bee. I hope we can get to know each other better."

“You too. You can stop by the shop anytime ” You offered a polite smile.

There was a brief glance between you two before you turned onto your heels to walk away, but before you could take a step, Joel gently grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Bee, wait,” he said.

Joel's eyes locked onto yours, meeting with a questionable gaze. At that moment, it felt as if the world around you had faded away.

Then, without saying a word, Joel leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss that was meant to be a performance in front of a woman he once loved. It was a soft, lingering kiss as if the two of you were trying to convince the world you were madly in love.

Your eyes closed instinctively as the kiss deepened, and for a moment, it felt as if time had stopped. The feeling, the taste of his lips, and the desperation in the way Joel held you against him, made this feel like falling until your bones crashed against the ground.

The kiss eventually ended, but the lingering sensation of it remained. When you pulled away, there was a flicker of surprise in both of your eyes, as if you had just shared a secret only for the two of you to know

“Now, you can go,” he said, smiling as if that would help him to calm the crimson color of his cheeks.

But you were lost for words, so you just nodded in a daze, unable to form a coherent response. You turned away from Joel, your footsteps unsteady as you made your way to the gallery's exit.

Once you stepped outside, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm the racing of your heart. The kiss was a surprise and you needed a moment alone to process it.

Meanwhile, inside the gallery, Joel’s heart pounded hard in his chest, the thoughts in his mind were racing, and he was confused and conflicted about his own emotions. The kiss woke up something he hadn’t anticipated. 

As he stood there, he forgot about Lauren’s presence behind him. The only thing running in his mind was the feeling of your soft lips on his. One he had initiated as a part of the game he was playing, but the gravity was too much for him to handle and the spark was something he couldn’t deny. 

What had made him kiss you like that?        

You

Come asap to my shop.

Sent at 9:30 AM

Joel

Sorry, can't. Busy with work.

Sent at 9:32 AM

You

Do I care? Oh wait, No. Come here before I make you

Sent at 9:33 AM

Joel

If you wanna see me so bad, I’ll go. 😉

By the way, how did you get my number?

Sent at 9:34 AM

You

Tommy.

Sent at 9:35 AM

Joel sighed, setting his phone down for a moment. He had tried to resist, he didn’t want to face you yet, but your persistence had won out and he had to act like a man.

Minutes later, Joel entered your flower shop, the bell above the door chiming softly. He scanned the colorful array of blooms, then turned to find you. But before he could react, he was welcomed with a hard slap on his right cheek.

“Ouch. What the hell was that?” he asked defensively.

“What was that?” you asked furiously. “You kissed me!” You hit his chest. “Who gave you the right to touch me?”

Joel rubbed his stinging cheek, his eyes wide with surprise at your reaction. He hadn't expected a slap. That meant you didn’t feel anything after that kiss. 

"I... I didn't mean to upset you," he stammered, taking a step back to create some space between you two, avoiding making you more upset. "I thought we were just playing a part for Lauren."

You glared at him. "That doesn't give you the right to kiss me without permission, Joel."

Joel sighed, realizing he had crossed a line. "You're right, I shouldn't have. I'm sorry.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Just don't do it again, okay?” 

“What do you want me to do? Boyfriends and girlfriends kiss each other” he said, as a matter of fact.

“And we aren’t. Remember?” You felt your anger dissipating as you saw the look in his eyes.

“We are going to have to spend more time together, by the way,” he announced, already taking a step away from you in case you slap his face again.

“What? Why?”

“Lauren found a job in front of the gallery” 

You sighed, the news about Lauren working nearby adding another problem to deal with. "Great, just what we needed, more opportunities for her to snoop around."

Joel nodded in agreement. "I know it's not ideal, but we'll have to be careful and make sure our act is convincing."

You reluctantly nodded. "Fine, I'll try to be more convincing, but please, no more surprise kisses."

Joel snorted. "Agreed”. He closed his mouth for a moment, as he was contemplating something. “Maybe we could sit and talk about what we can or can’t do.” 

“Like a date?” you asked skeptically. 

He snorted “I would never take you on a date” His tone was like a knife stabbing your ego, and at your expression, he regretted his words immediately "I mean, not that you're not... I just mean we're pretending to date, and it's not a real date” 

You gave him a pointed look but decided to let it go.

“Today. My place” he said. 

You sighed, realizing that it was necessary to discuss the boundaries of their fake relationship. "Alright, today at your place”

Joel nodded "Great. I'll see you later then."

With their plans set, you and Joel parted ways, each of you feeling the weight of this act, and as the day passed, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than Joel.

That same evening, as the day cast the last ray of light. You were closing your shop without noticing Joel was waiting for you leaning on his car. 

"Bee Bee” he called out softly, careful not to startle you.

You turned, your heart skipping a beat as you saw him standing there. "Joel," you replied, a hint of surprise in your voice. "What are you doing here?"

“We are having dinner tonight. Don’t you remember?” 

“I thought-"

“Get in the car,” he said, interrupting, as he opened the door for you. 

You hesitated for a moment, something in the air was thick with tension. But something in Joel's gaze made you take a step forward. Without a word, you walked forward and got into his car.

When you arrived at Joel’s house, the warm and cozy atmosphere of his house felt nice. 

As you entered the living room, there stood Sarah. She had a mischievous expression on her face as if she had just found out a secret. Her eyes flicked between the two of you, and there was a hint of amusement dancing in her gaze.

"Hey, Dad. Hey, bee” Sarah greeted you both with a knowing smile.

Joel cleared his throat, his cheeks faintly tinged with a red color. "Sarah, we didn't expect you to be home."

Sarah raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Clearly."

You couldn't help but feel a flush of discomfort at the situation. It was one thing to pretend to be Joel's girlfriend in front of adults, but having his own daughter catch you in the act was a whole different situation.

Joel shot you an apologetic look as if silently acknowledging the awkwardness you felt. 

"Sarah, let me explain..."

But Sarah waved a hand, still wearing that amused grin. "No need, Dad. I think I've figured it out."

You exchanged a glance with Joel, both of you unsure of how to act in front of her. It was clear that Sarah had pieced everything together. 

As Sarah turned to head upstairs, she couldn't but say something else “By the way, you guys make a convincing couple. Almost had me fooled."

With that, she disappeared up the staircase, leaving you and Joel standing in the living room without knowing how to address the situation. 

“Well. That went well.” 

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, she saw right through us, didn't she?"

Joel ran a hand through his hair, his expression conflicted. "I didn't want her to find out like this. It's just... complicated."

You nodded in understanding. "I know. No one would like to let her daughter know that she had a ridiculous father.” 

Joel couldn't help but chuckle at your choice of words. "A ridiculous father, huh? Thanks” 

You grinned, the tension in the room gradually easing. "You know what I mean. This whole situation is just... well, ridiculous."

Joel nodded, but still, he gestured for you to take a seat, and you both sank down onto the couch. 

"I didn't want her to think that... well, you know," Joel began, struggling to find the right words.

"That we're actually together?" you finished his sentence, your voice gentle.

Joel nodded, his eyes meeting yours. "Yeah. I didn't want her to get the wrong idea."

You sighed, “Would it be that bad if she had believed it?” 

Joel hesitated before answering, his gaze fixed on a distant point, “I don't want her to get attached to something that's not real."

You nodded in understanding, appreciating his concern for his daughter. "I get it, Joel.”

He offered a small smile, grateful for your understanding. 

But then, Joel's expression shifted, and he looked directly into your eyes. "Maybe this will help us to get along. There's something about you that I didn't see before.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, and your heart should be skipping at that. 

Joel cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, I guess we should discuss some boundaries."

you nodded, meeting your gaze with his. 

“Do you like wine, right?” He asked.

“Sure.” 

Once Joel came back from the kitchen, taking a sip of wine, he began talking about the boundaries you were both setting up.

 "First off, we need to maintain a certain level of physical contact, like holding hands or the occasional kiss in public." 

You raised an eyebrow, "But it should be natural.” 

Joel nodded in agreement. "Absolutely, we'll keep it subtle. And not touching when we’re alone."

"Agreed," you replied. "Now, about spending time together. We should aim for at least a couple of nights a week, maybe dinner or a movie."

Joe smiled, appreciating your help in all this situation. "That sounds reasonable. And we can attend some social events together, like gallery openings or parties."

Your conversation continued as you laid down more ground rules. It was a strange situation, talking about their fake relationship as if it were real.

As the evening wore on, they finished a takeaway meal, and Joel poured more wine into your glasses. You chatted about other topics, gradually letting go of the tension that always existed between both of you. 

You couldn't help but notice that, despite the differences and the odd circumstances, there was a certain comfort in Joel's presence. There was a genuine connection you didn’t expect. 

Joel also found himself strangely at ease with you, despite his initial thoughts. There was a depth to your personality that he had never got to appreciate before, and he was beginning to see you in a different light. 

 "So, Joel, tell me more about your art. What inspires you?"

Joel leaned back; his gaze thoughtful. "Well, art has always been a way for me to express things I couldn't put into words. It's a way to capture emotions and moments, you know? I find inspiration in life, in the people I meet, and the stories I can tell through it.”

You nodded, genuinely interested. "That sounds amazing. I've seen your gallery, and your work is incredible."

Joel smiled a hint of warmth in his eyes. 

“So when will you show me?”

“Show you what?”

“The things you’re working on now” 

“Soon” he replied, gracing a smile at him.

“What about you Bee? What made you become a florist?" he asked, in order to continue the conversation.

You chuckled. "Oh, that's a long story. I've always had a fascination with flowers and their symbolism. They're like nature's way of speaking to us. Plus, I love the idea of brightening someone's day with a bouquet."

Joel found himself captivated by her passion. "That makes sense.”

“Why?” you genuinely asked

“You’re a sweetheart to everyone.” 

A hint of blush colored your cheeks at his compliment. "Well, thank you, Joel. I try to be."

Joel smiled warmly.

You continued sharing stories about both of you. Joel listened to your own stories about moving to Texas and opening your shop, and you got to learn so many things about Joel, some struggles he had at the beginning of his career, how he raised Sarah on his own, and things you could never have thought of him.

"And what happened after she was born? I mean, how did you end up raising her on your own?"

Joel took a deep breath "Lauren and I were together back then. She was thrilled about having a child at first, but after Sarah was born, something changed in her. She became distant, started going out late at night, and eventually, she left."

Your heart skipped a bit as he spoke. "That must have been incredibly difficult.”

Joel nodded, with a sadness that also showed nostalgia "It was. I never expected to be a single parent, but I had to step up for Sarah. I couldn't let her down."

And there was a time when you understood why Joel was so afraid of letting Lauren back into his life. 

After the night wore on, you left Joel's house, and the atmosphere inside his home shifted, now it felt empty.

Joel sat back at the table, nursing what was left of his wine. He knew inviting you over was a risky plan, but the night was a pleasant surprise, you were a pleasant surprise in his life. He got to know glimpses of you he didn’t know existed. 

As he pushed his glass away, Tommy entered the house, scanning his surroundings. At the state of his brother, he couldn’t help but tease him. 

"So, Joel," Tommy said with a mischievous grin, "How was it dinner with bee?”

Joel rolled his eyes, knowing exactly where this was going. "It's not what you think, Tommy. We're just pretending” 

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Pretending, huh? Tell that to your face”

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. "Tommy, you wouldn't understand. It's complicated."

Tommy leaned in closer, a sly grin on his face. "Complicated, huh?”

"It's complicated, okay?" Joel finally admitted, rubbing his temples. "I didn't expect any of this to happen."

Tommy chuckled, clearly enjoying his brother's discomfort. "Is Joel Miller falling for Bee?”

Joel shot him a warning look, but Tommy just grinned wider. "Relax, brother. I'm just teasing”

Joel didn't respond, lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't deny that something had changed over dinner, something he couldn't quite put into words.

Over the next days, Joel and you continued to play your act as a couple, and your interactions became less about pretending and more about genuinely getting to know each other. You were sharing time, laughing together, and interacting in a way that was unexpected for Joel and you four years ago. 

Joel was surprised to find he was enjoying your company more than he had expected. He appreciated things about you, your dedication, your dreams, and especially the look on your face when you talked about something you love, the sparkling of your eyes that could light up the whole city.

One evening, as you were closing up your flower shop, you received a text from Joel.

Joel

 Can't get enough of me? Dinner tonight? My place.

Sent at 4:30 p.m.

You couldn't help but smile at the message and reply to it. 

You

 You're becoming quite the charmer, aren't you? Dinner sounds good.

Sent at 40:30 p.m.

You ended up spending time with Joel, Tommy, and Sarah at their home. You were even invited to spend their traditional movie night with them. Joel had picked a classic film, and the living room was enveloped in the soft glow of the television screen. Popcorn bowls were passed around, and Sarah curled up in an armchair while Tommy claimed the couch.

You found yourself sitting next to Joel on the couch, and as the movie played, you couldn't help but feel the consequences of a tiring day. The soft lighting and the comfort of the living room made your eyes feel heavier, you fought to stay awake, but without even realizing it, you leaned on Joel’s shoulder and rested your eyes for a moment. 

Joel glanced down at you, noticing that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He didn't want to wake you, so he simply adjusted his position, to allow you to rest your head on his chest, making sure you were comfortable. The way your face seemed to be at peace melted his heart, and he couldn't help but smile.

The movie played on, and Joel allowed himself to relax, as you slept soundly on his chest. He couldn't help but wonder why the nagging feeling in his stomach was intensifying.

The next day, you were back in your flower shop, tending to vibrant flowers as usual. Autumn was arriving and the cozy environment and scent were filling the air. The scent of flowers filled the air, and the soft music playing in the background added to the nice atmosphere. It was a simple but normal day. 

Just as you were arranging a bouquet, the bell above the door chimed, signaling a customer's arrival. When you turned to greet them, you froze in your tracks. It was Lauren, wearing a polite but insincere smile.

“Lauren,” you said, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach. " How can I help you?”

Lauren's smile didn't reach her eyes as she leaned on the counter. "I just wanted to stop by and have a little chat."

You couldn't help but feel a growing tension in the air. "About what?"

Lauren's tone remained polite, but there was a soft threat in her words. "About me, about you and Joel, of course. I hope you're not getting too comfortable in his life."

You maintained a calm expression, despite the growing unease in your stomach.

She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering "I just wanted to remind you of something, dear. You see, Joel and I have a long history, and Sarah is our daughter. I'm sure you understand how important family is."

She paused for a moment, as if considering her words carefully, and then added, "You are just a girlfriend he is going to get tired of."

You felt a surge of anger at her words. "I understand your concern, Lauren. But my relationship with Joel is our business.”

Lauren's smile remained, but there was a glint of steel in her eyes. "Oh, I'm not trying to say anything bad about it. I just thought you should know where you stand. After all, Joel and I have a daughter together, and that's a bond that can't be broken."

With that, she turned and walked out of her shop, leaving behind a flame threatening to hunt you with the venom of her words. 

Joel had made you stand in a mess that wasn’t yours, but now you were too deep into it and you didn’t know where it would lead you from here. 

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 8, Unexpected - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, poorly translated Russian, bad jokes all around, Jade Carthage (she's a warning at this point), mentions of Bucky's sad past.

Word Count: 851

Previously On...: You and Bucky were enjoying some Thai makeout takeout in the common room, but you were rudely interrupted. Now you have to deliver Jade to her new room. And why is Steve acting like such a dick?

A/N: A short Part 2 for your 2sday! Feeling generous; might post Part 3 later today; idk. Just kidding; I'm going to do it, either on one of my breaks or when I get home from work, lol.

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows

You were leaning against a couch and mindlessly scrolling through your social media feed when Jade walked back into the common room about twenty minutes later.

"Where's Sergeant Barnes?" she asked by way of greeting.

"Bathroom," you said, slipping your phone into your pocket. "Should be back in a minute."

Jade sighed and walked closer to you, her stiletto heels sending her towering above your head. "You know, you really don't have to come with us," she drawled, as if offering you a way out was doing you some kind of favor. "I'm sure Bucky can show me to my room all by himself. There's no need for you to inconvenience yourself to babysit him. Unless, of course, you don't trust him around me." She smirked at you, emerald eyes hard and cutting.

You chuckled, moving away from the couch and standing up straight, though you couldn't hope to match her height. "It's no trouble at all," you replied, your tone sickeningly saccharine. "I'd hardly call it an inconvenience to take a nanosecond to point to your door while my boyfriend and I are already on our way back to my room to fuck."

"You're a real bitch, you know that?" Jade seethed at you. Well. That took you aback.

"Excuse me?" you countered. "I'm a bitch?"

"It wasn't enough for you to humiliate me in front of Stark and Rogers during my interview, but you had to go and make a play for Bucky once you knew I was interested in him," Jade scoffed. "That was a real mature stunt you pulled at dinner, by the way, storming off like a baby, hoping he'd follow you."

You stared at her, at a loss for words. She couldn't be serious; no one suffered this heavily from Main Character Syndrome. "Look," you said after staring at her for a moment, "you're free to think whatever you want, but Bucky and I--"

"You and I what, Sweets?" Bucky returned from the bathroom, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to your temple. "Hey, Vixen; ready to see your new home away from home?"

Jade battered her lashes up at him. "I can't wait, Sergeant," she purred at him.

"Uh, Bucky's just fine," he said, a slight blush creeping up the side of his neck. You couldn't help but wonder what that was all about. No, you reminded yourself. You two were in a good place. It wouldn't do you any good working yourself up over something that was most likely nothing. Instead, you took Bucky's hand.

"Ready to go, then?" you asked him. "The sooner we show Jade here her room, the sooner you and I can take advantage of my impromptu half day."

It was a tense trip from the common room down to your floor, though Bucky was doing his best to keep up a casual and friendly conversation.

Exiting the elevator onto your floor, Jade said: "Sorry if this is overstepping but, they kept you at the facility in Siberia, didn't they?" You froze in your steps, immediately squeezing Bucky's hand as you felt his entire body go rigid alongside you.

"Jade," you said, your voice almost pleading, "he doesn't really like to talk--"

"Yes," said Bucky, stiffly, as though his voice was coming on autopilot. "Yes, they did."

"They kept me there for a little while in the early 2000s," she said. "I wonder if our time there ever overlapped."

Bucky coughed into his hand. "I, uh... I wouldn't really be able to tell you. I was on cryo most of the time."

Jade gave a soft laugh. "Nu, dazhe ne nakhodyas' na l'du, etogo mesta bylo dostatochno, chtoby zastavit' menya nenavidet' kholod do kontsa moyey grebanoy zhizni." Well, even without being on ice, that place was enough to make me hate the cold for the rest of my fucking life.

Bucky's barked a short but genuine laugh, startling you. "Kholodneye, chem ved'minskaya sis'ka, ya prav?" Colder than a witch's tit, am I right?

"Vo vsyakom sluchaye, kholodneye, chem moi sis'ki." She said to him with a wink. Colder than my tits, anyway.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed aloud at that, and Jade shot you a side smirk. You rolled your eyes.

"If you want to stand here all day and make jokes about tits, Bucky, I may as well go back to work." Your voice was annoyed as you made to extract your hand from his and move away, but Bucky's grip on you tightened.

"What? No! You are not going back to work, Doll," he said as he pulled you into him, letting his arms envelop you. "Vix, your door's right over there," he pointed down the hall, "and please feel free to let us know if you need anything. But for now, if you'll excuse us," without warning, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder like a goddamn caveman, "I have to fix it so work's the last thing on this one's mind." With a grin, he carried your shrieking self down the hall and into your room.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Can't sleep

Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N this is day one of my 100 followers celebration series. If you have sent an ask I am working on it. I'm sorry this one is short and so late but I didn't know I would have so much to do today. Also, all mistakes are my own so if you see any feel free to comment them and comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated.

THIS IS NOT AN 18+ FIC BUT I STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS SO PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR

Summary you can't sleep (I wrote this based on my own issues with sleep and I hope it comforts anyone with the same struggles)

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/WEBSITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings fluff, slight angst (kinda)

You don’t know how long it's been since you first got into bed, but at the moment it feels like forever. You have been tossing and turning, unable to get comfy. You look over to Bucky who is fast asleep. 

He looks so peaceful. 

You huff before getting out of bed in hopes of tiring yourself out. You trudge into the living room where you grab your laptop and the blanket that has been left there from your movie night with Bucky.

You sit on the couch and put the blanket on your lap. Then, you open your laptop and begin to get on with some work that you need to do. 

After a while, you look at the time in the corner of your laptop and sigh. Its 4:01 am which means you’re not going to get to sleep any time soon. 

Then, you are startled when you feel a cold hand on your shoulder. You look up to see Bucky, his eyes barely open and his hair a perfect mess. 

“Why aren’t you in bed doll?” he asks.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply.

“You should’ve woken me up. I would have come in here with you so you aren’t alone,” Bucky said, walking around the couch to lift you and put you on his lap.

He wraps his arms around your stomach and pulls you flush against his chest, his chin resting in the crook of your neck.

“I didn’t wake you because you looked so peaceful and I didn’t want to disturb your sleep if you’re not having a nightmare,” you look down at your hands as you pick the skin around your nails. 

“Doll, I've told you a million times now, I don’t care if you wake me up, even if it's for something small, but I especially want you to wake me up if you can’t sleep. You know I can’t sleep properly if you’re not in bed with me anyways,” he kisses your cheek.

“Sorry,” you turn just enough so you can kiss Bucky on the lips.

“No need to be sorry doll, I just don’t like the idea of you being awake alone if I can help it,” Bucky responds and kisses the back of your neck.

You both stay in a comfortable silence until it is broken by the alarm on your phone going off. You reach over and grab your phone to turn the alarm off.

“I guess it's time to start the day,” you say to Bucky, getting up off his lap and going into the kitchen to make s drink for the both of you. 

A few minutes later, you feel two arms make their way around your waist. 

“I love you so much doll,” 

“I love you too baby,”

If you want to join my taglist to know when I post these fics or any others please click on the link.

Also, if you want to see what I reblog, my other acount is @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin-library

[mcbenson25]

I Have Something For You (Eobard Thawne X Reader)

A/N: Helloooooo. Here's a little one-shot that didn't make it into More Than He Bargained For that I thought you would all enjoy!

---------------------------------

"I have to go out of town for a couple of days," Eobard reluctantly informed you, his expression softening as he looked down at your pouting face. "What? Why?" you protested, your eyes searching his for an explanation.

Eobard couldn't resist the charm of your pout; it made him feel guilty about leaving you. A warm smile graced his lips as he reassured you, "I have to do this thing for work, but I'll be back before you know it."

"Impossible," you countered, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss on his lips before snuggling closer to him. "I always hate when you aren't here."

He sighed, his gaze fixed on you. He wished he could freeze this moment, capture it in eternity. You and him…happy, lovers. You made the stagnant existence in this time period bearable. "Why can't you take me with you?" you asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"You know I can't," he replied, his voice filled with a touch of regret.

You groaned in response, not happy but acceptingly. "Alright."

A comfortable silence enveloped the room as the television droned on in the background, providing background noise with its latest stock market analysis.

"I have something for you," Eobard suddenly broke the silence, his voice infused with anticipation.

Your eyes lit up, and you sat up eagerly, a smile tugging at your lips. "Oh? What is it?"

"We have to go outside, though," he teased, pressing a tender kiss on your lips. "Meet me outside," he said, his voice carrying a hint of excitement.

You giggled as you watched him almost trip on his way to your shared bedroom, his playful smile and wink leaving you with a sense of curiosity. Grabbing your shoes, you headed outside to join him.

Eobard's house was a cozy haven, nestled alongside the lake bordering Central City. The backyard was a sight to behold, with towering, lush trees adorned with delicate jar lights. A beautiful garden with a meandering stone path guided you towards the shimmering lake. From this vantage point, you could also see the dazzling cityscape, adding to the enchantment of your little piece of heaven.

"It's beautiful."

You turned around and found Eobard standing beside you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him. "It is," you replied, unable to contain your joy.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about the view," he sweetly retorted, his gaze filled with affection.

You couldn't help but grin, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks.

"Before I go, I wanted to give you something, but first, I have to ask you something," Eobard began, his voice laced with nerves.

Curiosity ignited within you. "Okay," you responded, your voice soft and filled with anticipation.

He took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as it ran through his hair. "Is everything okay?" you asked, concern creeping into your voice.

"Yes! Yes, I just—" he stammered, his eyes meeting yours before he finally gathered his composure. Stepping forward, his voice regained strength. "Will you marry me?"

You stood frozen, unable to process the question at first.

Did he just...?

Oh my goodness..

He just asked me to marry him

"Yes, of course!" you squealed with delight as he kissed you passionately, sealing the moment. As you pulled apart, your eyes glanced down and spotted a dazzling diamond ring with your beloved gemstone nestled in the center.

Overwhelmed with joy, you looked up at him and said, "I love you."

A radiant smile graced his face as he replied, "I love you too."

--------

Taglist: @khayrrilrainxwells @kirareaper13 @i-dont-care-lol @cursedfaechild @lovepeaceorelse @roryjames82 @brianllamawrites @achromaticerebus @honeybeezgobzzzzz @bellagomez-barriga @readingfanficdonotdisturb @tahiraseoti @roguerieka22

Hope you enjoyed this little snippet! Please feel free to leave any comments or thoughts as well as ideas! Love you all!

[nekoannie-chan]

Bound

Bound

Title: Bound.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 296 words.

Square: 3 “Bound.”

Rating: Teen.

Summary: You and Steve have a special bond.

Major Tags: Fluff.

Additional tags: This is my entry for the @fandom-free-bingo Valentine edition.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @Smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @Harrysthiccthighss @Marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @Here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard @rogersbarber

As soon as you walked through the door of the café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and freshly baked bread enveloped you. You made your way to the far corner of the place, looking for the usual spot; you settled into the wooden chair. You knew you had arrived a few minutes early, while you thought Steve had been distant in the last few weeks.

Steve approached the table, and you smiled at him.

“Hi, Steve,” you said hello.

“Hi. Thanks for coming,” he replied.

For a moment, you were both silent. Outside, the rain was starting to fall. Steve let out a sigh.

“I need to talk to you about something important,” he began. Something that's been on my mind for a long time but I haven't known how to approach it.

You nodded and clasped your hands on the table as your heart began to beat a little faster.

“Since I've been back, I've felt like things don't quite fit together. It's not that I regret coming back... leaving the past behind. But... something here, in the present, hasn't been what I expected, and, honestly, I'm not sure how to explain it, but... “ Steve paused; his gaze met yours, and in that instant, everything seemed to stop. I think there's a reason I feel this way, and it has to do with you.

“Me? “you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Ever since I met you, I've felt a connection I've never felt with anyone else. It's as if... as if there's something that binds us together in a way that I can't explain with logic or reason. I've tried to ignore it, to try to understand it, but every time I do, I end up more confused.

“Steve, you don't have to explain everything now if you're not ready. I can wait; I'll always be here.

“No, that's what I've been doing so far, and it hasn't worked. I need you to understand what I'm feeling because I can't keep ignoring it. Not when I feel like we're... tied together somehow. I feel like our lives are intertwined in a way that I can't undo. Like you were always meant to be in my life. And it's something that scares me because... I've never felt anything like this before,” Steve continued.

“Steve... I've felt that too, but I never knew how to express it. It's as if... as if we've always been part of the same destiny, but I didn't know how to explain it without sounding... ”

“Crazy,” he said.

“So, what do we do with this? “you asked.

“We accept it.”

[moonlightpirate]

Return to The Madding Crowd

Chapter 3: To Love or Not to Love

Time for Bathsheba to find out if you have feelings for William or not.

Taglist: @its-just-me-chey @nothingbutcloud @thegoldfishbowl @ingeniousvemon

Ao3 Masterlist

"Okay William you've been here at least once a week for about a month now. Care to tell me what's going on? You do know I'm married….." Bathsheba began to speculate.

Authors notes so I aged William to 45 to show a passage of time. I also have the reader at the age of 30 but feel free to imagine whatever age you would like!

Several months later:

"Bathsheba please I am aware you are married! I promise I am not here for you." William gasped at her accusation. 

Bathsheba looked at him curiously for a minute,"Then who are …..wait……William don't tell me….".

"Yes. I'm here because I can't seem to stay away from y/n. Now I know what you're going to say. She's 30 and I'm 45. It's not proper. But I can't deny how I feel for her. But unless I'm mistaken I think she may truly feel something for me.".

"I highly doubt that since she has turned down so many men before. William, I just don't want to see you get hurt again.".

"That is why I am here. I would like you to talk to her for me and see if she has feelings for me. If she doesn't I'll stop pursuing her and leave her alone. I swear it.".

"Fine but I do not want to see you here until I've given you her answer." Bathsheba demanded. 

"That's only fair. Thank you for your help." William smiled, slowly standing up and making his way out of the farmhouse.

Bathsheba sighed and slumped down in her chair. 

"I think he is right. About her having feelings for him." Gabriel commented, causing Bathsheba to jump as she had not seen him come in.

"Oh goodness you frightened me! What makes you think she likes him?". 

"I've seen their interactions when he comes to visit her when she's been working. Bathsheba if you could see the way her face lights up when she sees him and the way she stops what she's doing to go talk to him. She's usually blushing and has a smile that is almost ear to ear when he leaves. Now tell me that doesn't sound like she has feelings for him." Gabriel explained, sitting down in front of Bathsheba holding her hands. 

"I mean maybe a little. I just worry since she has been hurt recently. Plus she has also turned down so many men before. I don't want to see anything bad happen to William again.".

Gabriel could see the fear in her eyes and gently put a hand to her face, "Well I think he has learned his lesson the hard way dear. He is being cautious. So just go and talk to her like William has asked and see what she says. You can't speak for her and you won't know until you hear it from her.". 

"What if she lies to me? Or tells me she doesn't want him? What would I say to him?".

"Take it one step at a time. Talk to her and see what she says first. I don't believe she would lie to you.".

"I suppose you are right. I'll take her with me when I go into town later this week. We will talk and I'll go from there.". 

Gabriel leaned in and gave her a kiss before they both got up to resume their duties on the farm.

Later that week:

"This is so fun! You hardly ever take me into town with you. Though I must ask what's the occasion?" You inquire of Bathsheba. 

"Am I not allowed to want to spend time with you?" Bathsheba replied, trying to look innocent. 

You cock an eyebrow at her and shake your head no. You had been wandering around shops for hours buying things but all this time and Bathsheba had hardly spoken a word to you. 

"Well we have been shopping for hours now. How about we stop for lunch before we need to go sell the grain?" Bathsheba suggested, gently ushering you towards a small Cafe. 

After you both sit down and order food you finally demand, "Okay seriously what is going on? You seem on edge.".

"Fine, I've noticed William has been hanging around the farm a lot recently. Tell me about him.".

"Not sure I know what you mean cousin. What do you want me to tell you about him? You seem to already know him, you should be telling me about him.". 

Bathsheba glared at you, "Do you have any feelings for him? I need to know. He has been hurt before and he doesn't deserve to be hurt again so I need to know what your intentions are with him."  

You stare in shock at her as her words sink in, "You really think my intentions are to hurt him?". 

Just then the waiter sets the food down in front of both of you. You both utter a quick thank you and begin to eat.

"He really likes you and you've turned down so many men….." Bathsheba finally began to reply.

Your face lights up, "He likes me?! Really?! Wait…..you think I'm leading him on? I've turned down those men because I didn't love them and they didn't love me! I feel safe with William and he makes me feel happier than I have in so long. Though I mean if he asked me to marry him now I would say no simply because of how that soldier hurt me has me not quite ready for something like that. But in time if he were to ask…..I would say yes.". 

Bathsheba looked at you trying to judge if what you said was true, "Okay I believe you. But if you change your mind and hurt him I will ask you to leave the farm.".

You gasped and nodded solemnly. You finish your lunch and help Bathsheba sell the grain before you guys head back to the farm. Once back, Bathsheba went over to tell William what she had learned. 

 Williams' face lit up in excitement, "Oh what a happy day! I am willing to wait until she is comfortable with the idea of marriage! Her having feelings for me is more than I could have ever hoped!". 

"I told her if she hurt you though that I wanted her to leave the farm so if anything happens you won't have to see her." Bathsheba stated.

"I don't think she will hurt me but thank you for your concerns and thinking of me." William smiled.

Bathsheba gave him a small hug before returning home. William practically jumped with joy at the news. He couldn't believe his luck it almost didn't feel real. 

[yourfantasyfigures]

The Name Chapter: Temptation

Masterlist Info AO3

The moment he closed his eyes, he could feel that something had changed.

Words: 2251 (one shot) [completed]

Tags & Warnings: TW at the end of the post as it would be a spoiler.

Genre: elements of fanstasy, mystery, slight angst and friendship fluff [No reader insert, no romance/sex]

If you have any questions or concerns regarding the tags/warnings, feel free to contact me. Please let me know if I'm missing any tags.

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Do not repost or translate without permission.

Further notes & disclaimers: info post

Taglist: @jswizzledizzle

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Devil By The Window

Yeonjun awoke from a scratching noise.

At first, he had brushed it off as just a part of his imagination, the sound perfectly blending into his dream. He began twisting and turning in his bed as the scratching got louder, unease taking over his body.

Then, the scratching stopped.

Tap tap tap tap tap

It had now turned into a tapping noise, louder than the scratching had been, growing more persistent as time went on.

Finally, it had gotten too loud, too irregular.

Though his dream ebbed away, the tapping remained, unrelenting.

Yeonjun opened his left eye, peeking towards the source of the sound.

The tapping stopped as his sight landed on a bright figure, so bright that his tired eye couldn't make out any defining features. The figure was by his window, and though Yeonjun knew he should be alarmed by an intruder in the night, he didn't feel like he had to be. He felt uncomfortable, yes, but not unsafe. Something about the figure led him to continue laying still in his bed, one eye slowly blinking.

"Yeonjun"

Yeonjun's body tensed.

"I can take you to the place you've been dreaming of" the voice spoke.

Yeonjun didn't dare react.

"You will experience what you've been craving, what you've been begging for every night before you go to sleep."

Yeonjun mustered up the courage to reply.

"That's impossible" he croaked.

"It's not. I'm granting you one afternoon until the late evening."

"What's the catch?" Yeonjun mumbled, still drowsy.

"There's no catch, as long as you return in the night. If you don't, I can't help you. Now relax, close your eyes." Yeonjun caught a glimpse of the figure moving towards him as he followed the instructions.

The moment he closed his eyes, he could feel that something had changed.

Sugar Rush Ride

His sense of hearing was first to return.

There was a loud sound, constant, with a rhythm to it, but Yeonjun could not place it.

Then, he felt a poking sensation on his cheek, a slightly uncomfortable surface scratching at his skin.

Then, something was shaking his shoulder, quickly raising him from his slumber.

"Yeonjun"

Yeonjun opened his eyes, the bright sunlight blinding him for a moment.

"Come on, the others are getting ready to leave."

Finally, Yeonjun could make out the face of the person talking to him.

"Beomgyu... what is- where" he looked around, his view clearing up every time he blinked. He looked around.

The sun shined brightly in the clear blue sky, blinding Yeonjun. Shielding his eyes, he took in where he was. Blue waves, calm and rhythmical, sand underneath his fingertips.

Beomgyu who was standing in front of him impatiently gestured for him to get up.

"They're already all the way over there, stop sleeping!"

Yeonjun followed Beomgyu's gesturing hands, his eyes landing on three figures, walking towards the trees that had grown a few feet away.

"Beomgyu, is that..."

"Soobin, Kai, Taehyun. Let's go, I don't know how much time we have."

"But-"

"Come on"

Dragging Yeonjun up by his right arm, Beomgyu pulled him towards the others.

There was a cottage that appeared if you walked past three rows of trees, one Yeonjun had never seen before.

Before he could ask any questions, Taehyun had already opened the door, welcoming the others in.

"Water, herb tea or orange juice, what do you want?"

The other four looked at each other for a moment before Huening Kai spoke up first.

"Orange juice, please"

Soobin followed, asking for the same, while Yeonjun took up the offer of drinking tea, Beomgyu decided to stick to water.

When Taehyun disappeared to the kitchen to fetch the drinks, Yeonjun turned to the others.

"Am I- is this- Am I out of my mind?"

The others barely reacted, though Yeonjun could spot Soobin shaking his head in the corner of his eye.

"No? Ok. So this... this is strange, right?"

"It's not" Huening Kai replied before Yeonjun could finish his question.

"We're at the beach. We went to the beach, like, five times before this."

"But-"

"Do we not go to the beach together?" Kai's voice was low, but it didn't sound necessarily calm.

"Well yes, but-"

"Then it's normal that we're at the beach together. Nothing is strange."

Taehyun reentered the room, carrying in a tray of drinks for the others along with tea for himself.

Happy Fools

Taehyun's cottage was beautiful, simply being inside filled Yeonjun with a sense of comfort he wanted to bask in.

The white flowers that decorated the tables and windowsills were especially eye-catching, he wasn't sure but something about them instilled a feeling of familiarity in him.

When he asked Taehyun about them, he just shrugged, answering that they were called Chrysanthemum, though he couldn't remember where he got them.

Their conversation ended there, Yeonjun's attention instead shifting onto Beomgyu who was urging them to finish their drinks and go back outside again.

Outside, Kai turned to the others with a glint in his eye.

"That patch with the pink flowers!"

Barely having finished his sentence he started running towards the goal he had set in the distance. Taehyun followed immediately after, quickly catching up to the youngest of the bunch. Beomgyu, who had been caught off for a second too long, trailed behind, though the distance between him and the other two was considerably big.

Yeonjun turned to Soobin who was still walking in a regular walking pace next to Yeonjun.

"Where's your competitive spirit, Soobin? Don't you usually join in?"

Soobin kicked something that was at his feet, Yeonjun assumed it must have been some stick or rock of some sort.

"Why aren't you joining? Weren't you the one who originally started this game?"

Yeonjun shrugged, thinking about his next answer.

"I don't know, Soobin."

"Me neither."

The oldest couldn't meet the other's eyes.

"Why doesn't that make me feel any better? Or worse?"

"I don't know, Yeonjun. I want to throw myself into it but I'm scared I'll ruin it."

"Yeah"

They were silent for a few second before Soobin's head snapped up.

"But there's no way I'm losing against you"

In a blink he had set off, leaving Yeonjun behind.

When Yeonjun finally caught up with the others, they were already comfortably laying inbetween the pink flowers, waiting for Yeonjun to arrive.

Kai, his head resting on Taehyun's stomach, blinked up at him.

"You're so slow."

"And you're childish"

Yeonjun flicked Kai's forehead, then let his own head rest on Kai's stomach.

"Kai might be childish but at least he's not old", Beomgyu pointed out.

"I'm two years older than you, that's not exactly retirement age."

"I wouldn't be too sure... is that a gray hair?"

Yeonjun squeezed his eyes shut as though that could help with tuning out Beomgyu's teasing.

Comfortable silence fell over the five.

"What do you guys think about Peter Pan?"

Beomgyu was first to respond. "What do you mean, Taehyun? As a story? I guess I liked it as a kid, I don't really remember it now."

Soobin chimed in: "Or like Peter as in the character? Cause he was kind of annoying."

"No, not that" Taehyun replied.

"As a concept. Being young forever. Never growing up."

Nobody answered at first.

"I mean" Yeonjun cleared his throat. "It doesn't make sense. You always grow up, even if your body somehow doesn't mature. You don't grow up because your body develops a certain way or because you hit a certain age, you grow up because you exist. So even Peter can't never grow up."

"But that's where Neverland comes in. It is possible there." was Taehyun's rebuttal.

"I guess so." Yeonjun responded, once again letting silence surround them.

"Would you want to go there?" Taehyun asked.

"Neverland?" Beomgyu thought for a second.

"Maybe. I don't know. For a while. I would try to enjoy it while it lasts, regardless where I was."

"What about you guys?"

After hesitating for a second, Huening Kai gave his answer.

"If I knew Peter, I would. If he was my friend and I knew he would stick by me, I think so."

"I think the idea sounds nice but it wouldn't be in reality." Soobin said. "You wouldn't know who's there and how long you can stay and what you should do. And you can't take everyone with you."

"That's true" Taehyun replied. "Forever young sounds great but I would never want to leave everyone behind."

Nobody replied after that, the sound of waves in the distance.

"Kai?"

Taehyun's voice sounded insecure, only slightly louder than a whisper.

"What are... are you crying?"

Taehyun and Yeonjun quickly sat up, looking at the youngest's face. Kai brought up his hands to hide his tears but it was too late.

"What's wrong?" Taehyun asked, worried.

Kai shook his head, silent sobs making his body tremble violently. He turned, his face now buried in Taehyun's stomach, his arms tightly wrapping around his body.

Yeonjun reached over, patting the youngest's head softly.

"Kai, what's wrong?" Taehyun asked, but he still didn't get an answer.

Yeonjun's eyes met Soobin's who gave him a light smile, his own eyes seeming to well up.

"You know you can always talk to me, right?" Taehyun asked softly.

Kai sat up, looking at Taehyun with bloodshot eyes.

He hesitated for a moment, contemplating, then hastily got up, turning around and quickly walking away.

When Taehyun was about to follow him, Yeonjun stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "I got it. You guys stay here."

Tinnitus

Kai hadn't run far, Yeonjun could easily spot him leaning against a tree.

Yeonjun leaned against the tree in front of Kai, facing him, though the younger avoided his eyes.

They stood in silence, letting the sounds of nature calm them down.

"What if-" Kai's voice was weak. "What if we don't go back?" Kai asked, eyes still fixated on the ground.

Yeonjun brought his hands up to his face and took a deep breath.

"Kai, no."

Finally, Kai looked at him.

"Why not? Do you really think I can let go now?"

Yeonjun took a step forward.

"I understand, Kai, you know I do. But we can't. You don't know if you can even stay or where you would go and just- just think. What that would mean. What it would really mean."

Kai squeezed his eyes shut.

"But... but..."

He drifted off, knowing it was fruitless.

"Listen, okay?" Yeonjun fixed Kai's hair. "We'll take a deep breath, go back and enjoy it. Say what we want to say, do what we want to do. And when it's time, it's time. Let's make the most of it, okay?"

Kai reached out to take Yeonjun's hand, squeezing it once and then let go.

He looked up and nodded.

Nobody asked any questions when the two returned, simply scooching over so they could sit in a circle.

Kai decided to lay down again, resting his head on Taehyun's thigh and absent-mindedly playing with the fingers of his right hand.

The five talked with no end, Beomgyu, as always, making the others laugh who themselves couldn't resist the challenge of getting back at him with a teasing joke of their own.

They spoke about their families, recalled memories and told anecdotes they had all heard before.

Yeonjun could not recall the last time the five of them sat together like this, peaceful and happy.

The sun had set a while ago and darkness replaced it's shining light.

That's when Yeonjun heard it.

Scratch scratch- scratch scratch

"No", he whispered.

Tap tap tap tap tap

"Please"

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

Yeonjun looked at the others.

"Come here"

He said, stretching out his arms and quickly making everyone gather in the middle. He pulled the others into a hug which they happily fell into. They squeezed each other tightly.

"I love you guys. And thank you for everything"

They continued to hold each other.

Yeonjun heard Kai sob.

The last thing Yeonjun saw was Beomgyu, his eyes closed.

And then-

.

.

.

Farewell, Neverland

"We just cleaned it up three days ago, how are there already so many?" Yeonjun muttered, pushing the leaves to the side.

When he was satisfied, Yeonjun opened his backpack.

"Look what I got you." He took out the small object.

"I actually bought it two weeks ago but I always forgot to give it to you. It's a snowglobe, see?" He shook the globe.

"Well, it's not really a snow globe. I guess you could call it a sand globe? It's got a beach inside. It reminded me of some of our trips together."

He watched in silence as the sand settled down.

"I'm just going to put it right here, next to the candle, okay?"

He hesitated for a moment, then set the globe down in front of the headstone.

"It looks nice, right?"

He let the silence of the graveyard envelop him for what must have been a minute.

There it was again, the feeling of tears stinging in his eyes, begging to be let out.

Yeonjun threw his head back, hoping it would stop them from coming.

"I don't know how I'm ever supposed to get used to this, Taehyun," he whispered.

Of course, there was no response. Just the contiuous rustling of leaves in the wind.

Two tears escaped Yeonjun's eyes before he managed to recompose himself.

He slowly got up.

"Last night I had a dream about you. I hope you had the same one."

*

Author's Note

This story was surprisingly therapeutic to write. When I conceptualized it I didn't even realize how much it was inspired by my own experience with grief and a hyperrealistic dream I had about that person. Because it was sometimes difficult to separate my writing from my experience and grief, I ended up changing the ending three times.

I will leave whether or not it was a dream up to you, dear reader, and am more than curious to hear your thoughts on it.

Do they experience this again? Will he talk to the others and realize it was real? Or not? I think I know my answers to these questions, but I will let you come up with your own.

Thank you for reading this story.

Posting this for the public to see feels very vulnerable, but I hope others can get something out of reading it - be it enjoyment or relating to it.

I never shared this aspect of my grieving process or even the fact that I have had a dream like this with anybody, so thank you for listening.

Likes, reblogs and messages are the only ways for me to see if someone is reading and enjoying my stories, so I would truly appreciate the feedback.

I have 4 chaptered fics half-finished and I'm excited to share them with you too, so stay tuned.

Thank you so much!

Trigger Warning for this Story: Major Character Death (only aftermath)

[tveitertotwrites]

Random Question Time Week 7

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[flowerandblood]

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