#i’m not against being a home wrecker

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝? || 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary_ living the most perfect relationship turned out to be a sharp pain, your boyfriend Reed Richards was married and you didn’t knew, but thankfully, after the storm comes a rainbow.

Warnings_ age gap (not specified, but reader is in uni), ANGST, ANGST, implied smut, retro references, I hate home-wreckers but this is for the plot, DO NOT romaticize this shit irl.

Notes_ I HAVE A REASON TO ADD THE JOE QUINN TAG, PLEASE READ JOHNNY STORM LOVERS, and listen to how did it end?, please please please and Be My Baby with this, worth it.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist | Reed + Johnny playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸

The subway was awfully quiet yet at full capacity. You assumed everyone was minding their business as usual, but you thanked them because you could perfectly hear the radio of an elderly man playing “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes, and it made you smile.

Reed loved when you casually hummed and danced to the song as you cooked.

Oh, you were so in love.

It was at the beginning of your third semester of university when you met him. Being so introverted made it sweet and easy when you stepped into the wrong classroom, expecting an art class. Reed Richards, the physics professor let you know you were not in advanced sculpting class. He was so enchanted by your beehive hairstyle matching purple skirt and top, with a lilac sweater that had tiny embedded jewels.

He went to look after you that afternoon, learning you were at least past your teenage years and that you were not a science person like him.

And the rest was history, after months of having casual dates, he visited you often, and even met your parents. You loved him.

Reed was extremely smart. Always brings you the right gifts although you never ask him for anything. Always suggesting the best places to have dinner. It was like he had everything perfectly measured to make you happy.

I'll make you happy, baby,

just wait and see

For every kiss you give me,

I'll give you three.

Your stop was next and you enjoyed the rest of the song as you savored the feeling of being in love.

Walking through the streets you realized you had nothing else to do for the rest of the week regarding academic stuff. You also were expecting to arrive before the sunset at your home to start dinner. Reed was coming and your parents were going to join you two too.

For a moment you don’t think you’ve ever been this happy before.

-

Your dad opened a bottle of wine when you heard a knock on the door and that had you already blushing. You placed more raspberries and sliced lemon pieces on top of the cake you started as soon as you arrived home.

Reed greeted your parents and they welcomed him kindly.

“Our girl is in the kitchen,” your dad said.

“On my way to her,” you giggled, hearing his footsteps.

Immediately his hands came to lock around your waist. Which startled you but soon made you laugh.

“Hello, my love,” he said kissing your cheeks from behind.

“Reed! I’m trying to finish the cake” Giggling and trying to get away from him, he made you spin around before pulling closer and finally plastering a big kiss on your lips.

You melt into his touch in a second.

“Too bad I have more appetite for kissing my girl” you gently pushed him, returning to finish the cake.

“Don’t be like that… I put my heart in this one” Reed got closer, admiring your cooking skills. He then moved his eyes to appreciate you. His smile grew as his heart started beating faster.

“You sing, you dance, you sculpt, cook and bake. Darling, you’re perfect!”

“Kiss me again and I might believe it, baby” his silly smile made you chuckle, accepting his embrace and another kiss. It took you by surprise when gently pinned you against the counter, making you let out a gasp after feeling his manhood brushing your inner thigh.

“Are we still up for dinner?” Your mother called, peeking through the door of the doorframe of the kitchen.

“Yes. Sorry, Mom” you apologized feeling a sudden sense of embarrassment. Reed let you go, immediately helping you to grab some plates.

“We’ll continue this in the studio, darling” his hand reached out and gave you a soft spank in the ass, making your eyes wide open.

“Reed!”

“I said what I said, dear”

You would never deny his touch. The way the mere brush of the tip of his fingers could set you on fire and he perfectly knew the spots to make your body burn. So you just smiled naughtily. When he turned to see you again, you gained the courage to show him the outline of your shiny mint underwear that was lying under your dress.

“You’re killing me, y/n”

“After dinner, you can do everything to stop me”

His face was priceless, he blushed and looked adorable being so.

“How does it feel this summer without teaching?” You heard your father asking Reed after you gently pushed him out of the kitchen.

Between the laughs of your family and boyfriend, and the soft music playing in the background, you feel very happy.

…

“Reed…” you moaned his name as you watched his face under the hem of your dress. His lips were constantly licking your wet folds and had you biting your own hand to prevent louder moans.

“Darling… you are so pretty moaning like that for me” his hands snaked through your ass to the back of your knees, opening your legs even wider.

You were so close, your eyes closed in advance and you grasped at his hair harder.

yes, yes, yes, oh!… oh no.

His watch oddly beeped. The bubble of pleasure exploded, leaving only ashes of what had been the lust.

“I gotta go…” you frowned.

“What?… Why?”

“A friend. From work… he has a deadline for professors, I promised I would send him some of my archives to save him time,” he said and it only made you frown more.

“Can’t you send him the archives at least after making me reach an orgasm?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll pick you up tomorrow to have breakfast at your favorite place. Then we can have some fun time in my car” he attempted to soothe your worries but it clearly didn’t work.

“Oh… okay, Reed”

He kissed your forehead before squeezing your hand and finally leaving.

The bitter taste of uncertainty hit you. And before you could even prevent it, you were distrusting Reed.

The next morning, while he talked about how lovely you looked and how great was his breakfast, you barely paid attention. While he took your body to the backseat of his car, more than pleasure you felt uncertainty again.

And no matter how much you tried to ignore it, you didn’t believe Reed.

…

It’s all in the past three weeks later. Everything went back to normal, dates were perfect again, and sex was pure gold again. You had no complaints about your relationship with your much older boyfriend.

Even better when he announced he got tickets to see The Beatles on Saturday.

You got your hair straightened. A black turtleneck dress, red seen-through tights, and matching red heels.

Your eyeliner was more perfect than ever. And Reed came to pick you up with a huge bouquet of flowers.

“How did you get the tickets, love?” you asked as he drove.

“Oh, I have a friend who works in the media. A dating show has its target audience set…”

You wonder what show he meant. There were some popular shows on the TV airing at the time. That’s long short story when you notice Reed had been watching you.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I love the sight of you…” his words made you blush. Much more when he leaned to give you a quick kiss that you enjoyed as if it was the last. His beard tickled you and only made you smile more.

“I don’t want to die without seeing The Beatles, Reed” He started laughing and soon you followed with a giggle.

He pulled into a parking lot, and you already felt excited, seeing the crowds making line to go inside the venue, waiting for the concert to begin.

“Oh, I’m so excited!” You squealed, hurrying to apply some more lipstick before getting out of the car.

“Honey, you don’t need more makeup, you already look gorgeous,” Reed said.

“But it’s your favorite color” he looked, noticing it was indeed his favorite color, crimson red.

“Damn right… it is my favorite color” Both of you laughed as you started walking outside of the parking lot.

He placed his arm around your shoulders but soon you remember.

“Wait!… I forgot my coat” Reed hands you the car keys and you go back.

The last sun's rays hit the car when you open the backseat door. You leaned to grab your coat, but a shimmery item caught your attention.

Locked under the passenger seat, you struggle to grab the object, not being able to see just guided by the touch.

First, you felt a paper and a harder one, like a card. Then, with your pinky fingers, you felt a cold rounded object.

Your heart pounded as you fished the object with your pinky fingers.

An ID from the NASA that belonged to a woman, named Susan Richards aka Sue Storm. She was older, but extremely pretty; blonde, blue eyes, perfect nose, perfect hair, just some years younger than Reed.

A picture of your boyfriend with the same woman of the ID, both looking at the camera, her hand gently placed against his chest, a big diamond in a ring also positing for the picture.

And the ring. The solid proof of your sudden question.

“Darling, Why are you taking so long?”

“You are married?” You asked, handing him the golden wedding band with one hand and slamming the door of his car with the other.

“Darling…” he tried to reason, but you are enraged, red face and watered eyes.

“Why am I even questioning? Of course, you are married, Reed!” your hand dropped the picture and ID, and his attempts to calm you failed.

You can’t even process what is happening, you are just being consumed by the anger caused by his betrayal.

“We were going through a rough phase. And then I met you. I- I don’t even know what I’m doing right now” he admitted, sighing, accepting he was an asshole and a loser.

“AS IF I CARE!… YOU LIED TO ME!”

“Let me talk and explain, y/n”

You let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to keep the tears from falling. Your head started pounding, your body welcoming the stress.

“No. Don’t call me again, don’t get close to my university on campus. Just… don’t you ever try to come back into my life again.” he called your name plenty of times, and you heard his footsteps following you, but after leaving the parking lot of the restaurant, he stopped.

After a good time trying to prevent the tears, you started crying. You loudly sobbed, ignoring the few people you encountered while crossing the streets of the vivid city.

By the time you are seated in the subway once again, you don’t realize you have walked more than five blocks. You could only think about Reed.

Every moment with him felt genuine. He was kind, attentive, romantic, and… honest.

Never gave a sign to make you believe you couldn’t trust him, more like the contrary. And that was the worst part.

Maybe you just loved him so hard that it made you blind to see that his love was a lie.

…

The phone rang every day. You never answered. A month passed and you avoided the rest of your life on the beaches of Florida.

Your parents believed Reed took advantage of his P.H. D out of the city, so it was better to break up. But they could bear seeing their poor daughter going through some breakdown.

And when you came back to the city, the neighbor told you your ex-boyfriend had sent flower bouquets during your vacation, not knowing you were out.

It only made you feel worse. Questioning How could you have missed the signs of him being married?. And now that the damage was done. Did the wife know? Did Reed ever love you?

If he couldn’t be faithful to his wife, certainly not to you.

But those thoughts are the kind of thing that makes you go out with one eye covered in purple eyeshadow and the other in bright orange. Mismatched socks and disheveled hair. Some girls laugh at you when you enter a cafeteria but you honestly don’t give a damn. You just want a sandwich.

After paying, you’re once again daydreaming with overthinking about Reed. Without realizing a man had stood beside you.

“Hey... I saw the girls over there laugh but… I like the way you styled yourself” You turn to see the stranger.

“I’m so lost in the head, I did something bad that I didn’t even realize what I was choosing” you admitted, moving to grab some dressing and napkins while waiting for your order.

“Well, it must been really bad, with all due respect.”

“It was…”

“Is it too bad that I’m curious to know?” He asked and you shook your head, sighing.

“I was dating a married man and I didn’t know,” you said looking down, too embarrassed to look at the guy in the eye.

“It’s not your fault if you didn’t know” it took you by surprise.

“I know. But it pains me so much because it thought it was… real.” a lady called your name, letting you know your order was ready.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling my problems to strangers. Thanks for listening, have a great day” you said, walking away to grab your sandwich.

“Wait!” The man called you.

“I don’t mind hearing. My brother-in-law always says I’m an asshole but I can actually listen to people. If you had no plans… We could have lunch together” he revealed, making you smile gently.

“I was going to take this home and eat alone. So yes, we could have lunch together…” you finally analyzed him. Definitely closer to your age than your failed previous relationship. He was blonde and had kind eyes, that no matter what you wouldn’t trust at all after what happened with Reed. But this man seemed sweet, slightly cheeky, and too much extroverted, but you liked it.

“I didn’t catch your name before,” he said.

“I’m y/n…”

“Johnny… Johnny Storm” You remember it was the same name as Reed’s wife. But you can’t think this man had something to do with them. You can’t live continuing with mixing Reed with every step you took.

“I like your jacket”

“Thanks. I almost set it on fire this morning” You didn’t think he was saying it for real, so you laugh.

And oh, how much things changed after that.

…

Five months later, in the peak of autumn, Johnny and you celebrated your first month together. And accidentally you discovered he had some… abilities regarding fire.

Soon later, he was convinced you had to meet his family, so you agreed.

But when his sister opened the door, your face went pale. The woman in the ID you found in Reed’s car greeted you along Ben Grimm and soon you encountered with the cause of your endless midnights in sorrow.

Reed Richards looked the same. Wearing his usual clothes, the grey hairs above his ears, a charming smile, and an intellectual vocabulary.

Acting like strangers, he greeted you, pretending he never met you, never kissed you, never touched you.

Reed just slipped from you, but you weren’t afraid to walk away, just truly and messily hurt. Then you met Johnny, magically disappearing the weight of your broken heart. Even so, while walking inside the house, talking to the wife of your ex-boyfriend, you felt his eyes on you.

Reed was merely shocked, not knowing anything about you in months, then suddenly walking into his home as Johnny’s new girlfriend. He was horrified, but then he realized that he was no better than his brother-in-law. Reed always thought Johnny was an asshole for cheating on girls and being condescending. But you had truly changed him. Johnny followed you like a lost puppy, Reed questioned if you were a witch. And he accepted he wasn’t over you.

“How on earth did this happen?” Reed asked you in a brief moment of privacy.

“I don’t know, but I think I’m falling in love with him, Mr. Fantastic” you whispered in his ear. Reed saw how your eyes briefly glowed and he feared you, but more than fear, he felt panic about you completely forgetting about him.

As you walked inside the kitchen, following the conversation with Ben and Sue, Reed was witness of how you dropped a picture of his wedding with Sue, without touching it.

“What was that?” The blonde woman asked.

“A picture, the frame hit the ground very hard” Reed calmed her, but he grabbed the item, noticing how it left some of your strange energy. He would take that frame to run some tests and discover what the hell were you hiding.

Reed entered the kitchen finally, and saw how Johnny kissed your temple, his hand on the small of your back to lead you towards the table to have dinner. You weren’t lying, you were falling in love with Johnny, but you thought back at Reed, and couldn’t comprehend how did it end?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @raiyna-rred

Idk, I’m just excited for this movieeeeeee

[motherroam-rs]

Wrap Me in Your Skin and Bones

NSFW - 18+

Warnings/Tags : Cockwarming, Nightmares, Mentions of Trauma and PTSD, Angst, Comfort, Love Confessions

Relationship: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Summary: After solitary confinement on Mount Tantiss, Crosshair is plagued by nightmares that lead him to seek comfort in your body.

A/N : Wrote and posted this to AO3 before season 3 but wanted to put it here too 🫡 I just had this angsty lil thing in my head about how a touch starved Cross would deal with physical contact after the empire 🫶 (even though I firmly believe Tech survived the fall - he’s dead for the purpose of this I’m SORRY)

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

The sharp hit to your ribs has you springing into a sitting position, eyes wild and scanning the room for a threat. Muscle memory from years in the war has you reaching for the blaster and pointing it towards various shadows in the room.

You would be a lousy shot with the way your hand shook from the adrenaline in your veins. But, there are no imperial agents hiding in your room, no battle droids under your bed, the source of the attack lays next to you, writhing against imaginary forces in his nightmare.

Crosshair.

Abandoning the blaster on the floor, you work on tearing the bedsheets away from him before he can tangle himself any further in the restrictive fabric. Every muscle in his body seems to be rigid, even once you manage to free him, but he still thrashes, as if fighting against invisible restraints.

The sight of his struggle has your stomach forming knots.

“Crosshair, wake up,” your pleading hands press to his shoulder, thankful that the prominence of his collarbones has eased over the last few weeks, but he’s still nowhere close to as healthy he was the last time you saw him before the war had ended.

Unlike the rest of the batch, you hadn’t seen Crosshair during his time under the empire, and although during his absence you were thankful for it, this only made it worse the day his brothers brought him home.

Crosshair had always been the leanest of them, you had even joked with him on several occasions that he resembled the toothpicks which always hung from his lips, but the breath had been stolen from your body when Echo half-carried him down the walkway. Crosshairs face was almost as hollow as Echo’s had been after Skako Minor, and it was now flecked in silver stubble, with a large scar that stretched across the side of his head where patches of hair were entirely missing.

Just as the pair passed you by, Crosshairs eyes had met your own. You were used to a range of emotions in them, from heated glares and desire filled gazes, occasionally there was even an amused look that framed his eyes with a hint of laughter lines. However, what you didn’t prepare yourself for was for them to be entirely void of any emotion, it was if you were just one of the stone pillars that lined the streets.

After a week in the infirmary, it became evident that Crosshair couldn’t sleep alone. With Hunter preoccupied with Omega, the responsibility fell to Echo the first few nights, he was the closest to understanding Crosshairs situation after all.

On the third day after the rescue, Hunter had told you although Omega was kept somewhat safe with another female clone, they had found Crosshair in solitary confinement. Something deep in your chest broke at the unsaid weight of the information. Despite his aversion to most people, Crosshair had spent years of being in tight living spaces with his brothers, only to be thrown in a cell alone for maker knows how long.

Maybe this was why he gravitated towards you once he was finally in good enough physical condition to be released from the infirmary.

Between Echo’s own complicated relationship with sleep, Wrecker’s inability to not snore and wake everyone in the immediate vicinity, and Hunters responsibility for Omega, it was you who took him in.

If Tech was still here, he would have been the one to stay with Crosshair. You push that thought down, but the pain still resonates in your chest.

You give Crosshair another shake, and the second your other hand presses to the bare skin of his face, his eyes snap open. He lashes out like a snarling animal trapped in a snare, gripping both your wrists and pinning you beneath him with a speed that causes the room to spin around you.

“It’s just me, Cross.” You speak in a hushed tone, attempting to calm him as you fight against his grip.

Reality bleeds into his eyes, momentarily easing his pained expression, but then he’s choking on the air, collapsing onto you.

“I need,” although his face is buried in your neck, you hear the emotion crack his voice, and you already know the broken look that on his face. “Please, I need you.”

“It’s okay, Cross.” You nod and widen your legs, allowing his hips to settle between them. Your bodies act on the familiar routine you had both fallen into over the last few months since he moved into your spare room - which he has still never spent a night in. Crosshairs shakes have already begun to ease with the contact, his hands have at least stilled enough so he can effectively rid you both of the few items of clothing until you were bare against each other.

He coils himself around you at first, as if he were a snake trying to suffocate its prey, but you only wrap your arms around him in return, welcoming his touch. You aren’t certain if it’s the solitary confinement that made him need the contact, or if it’s some lingering effect of the chip, but either way you still offer yourself to him.

Seemingly unable to wait for his heart to settle, he chases the comfort only you can provide, and begins the slow push of himself inside you. Crosshair’s breaths are escaping him in desperate pants and he’s pressing as much of himself to you as possible, seeking the warmth of your body to drive away the sensation of the cold interrogation table that plagued his mind.

The stretch burns with the little preparation you have, and Crosshair senses your silent discomfort. He draws his hips back with a mumbled apology, so only the tip remains inside you, and draws slow circles on your clit with his thumb. It doesn’t take long for the resistance to ease with your wetness, and soon enough he’s rocking back into you with a groan, allowing you time to adjust.

He doesn’t attempt to bring you to the precipice, or anywhere close to it. Once he fully settles into you, his hand withdraws and instead tangles itself in your hair.

Right now Crosshairs need for you isn’t sexual, despite what it seems.

Some nights it will delve into more once his body relaxes, and he’ll take his time to have you come undone beneath him with more care and attention than he had ever possessed before the rise of the empire. But tonight, as he does most nights, he stills once fully seathed inside you, his only desire being your embrace.

“Where was it this time?” Sometimes he would answer, but other times he would give a slight shake to his head in response.

“Barton-4, then the interrogation room.” His voice is strained, and you recall everything he’s already told you about these places, specifically the haunting memory of Mayday’s death.

“You’re safe, we’re both safe, Crosshair.” You press a kiss to his temple as if it would help the promise sink into his mind. One of your hands moves to the back of his head, cradling him against your neck as the other traces patterns on his back.

It takes a few minutes of silence for his breathing to fall in sync with yours, and despite his cock being inside you, the light exhale against your neck has your face heating at the intimacy. His shakes have entirely ceased now, and you think he’s fallen asleep, until you hear the broken whisper.

“I love you.”

Your body freezes at the admission, both hands stopping their comforting movements. His throat bobs against your neck with a dry swallow, and you wonder if it’s his body trying to subconsciously take back the words.

You had been somewhat together during the clone wars, but it was never emotionally intimate. He had a physical need for you in a way that led to fucking you from behind against almost every surface on the marauder. And yet, true to his cold nature he never faced you, or even kissed you. Once he finished, he would neaten his armour and leave without a goodbye, yet you would still allow him back every time he gave the word.

“Crosshair-“ you start, but he’s cutting you off before your mouth can form another syllable.

“I know it’s not the right time to say it, but I do, I always have.” He rasps, trying to force the confession out in one breath, as if ripping the bacta patch off a wound.

Always have?

Your mind begins unravelling years of your self-imposed torture during the clone wars from biting down your feelings, pretending not to care when some pretty girl inevitably threw herself at him in a bar.

“You need to sleep.” He bites out, hurt evident in his tone at your lack of response, but he doesn’t dare peel himself away from you. Despite the hurt seeping into him, he’s too selfish to let you go unless you ask him to leave.

“Crosshair.” There’s no response, but something possesses you to reach out anyways, and you’re pressing your hand to his face, craning your neck to meet his stare. His eyes are open, but still avoid your own.

Your brush your nose against his, and your thumb traces over the sharp angle of his jaw, memorising the way he ever-so-slightly leans into your touch.

“I love you too.”

His eyes close, a shaky breath of relief escaping his lips. Crosshair had never needed a helmet to mask his emotions before his brothers brought him back to Pabu, back to you. His face had always been set in an ever cold smirk, whether it be when he was taunting a reg, on a stealth mission, or when you caught glimpses of him in mirrored surfaces in the marauder as he fucked himself into you. However, at your words, something akin to peace washes over his face, allowing it to morph into a rare expression of something softer, like that of a soldier returning from battle finally setting eyes on his home.

When the morning comes, you half expect the bed to be cold, or at least as cold as it can be in the climate of Pabu, but when the midday sun casts its warming rays over your skin, he’s still inside of you. Slender limbs have tangled with your own and his face is nestled against your neck, but you can tell from his breathing that he’s already awake.

“Stay.” It’s a whispered prayer against your skin, a desperate plea to some deity that seems to have abandoned him long ago in that cell on Mount Tantiss. But you don’t think the gods, the Empire or even the force could keep you apart now, and you don’t want them to. You press your forehead to his, a wordless answer to him that you aren’t going anywhere, that he’ll never have to be alone again.

[in1-nutshell]

Hi! Rapidfire on the Lost Light? What would Ultra Magnus reaction to her?

More Rapidfire!

Hope you enjoy!

Rapidfire on the Lost Light

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE/TFP

Magnus believed that today was the day he was going to get his work completed.

With all the trouble with the time travel incidents and getting everything back in order, he barely had much time to complete his reports.

That was until he heard a bunch of yelling outside his office.

Magnus opening the door: “What in the All—” He pauses seeing an unfamiliar bot with her back to the wall, looking frightened, and Brainstorm with a gun pointed at her. Magnus: “Brainstorm!” He pushes the gun down as the bot scrambles slightly behind him with a look of disbelief. Magnus: “What is the meaning of this? And why were you going to shoot the unarmed bot!?” Rapidfire: “You-You weren’t kidding when you said this was a different universe, huh?” Magnus looks at her then at Brainstorm, who sported a sheepish look. Magnus: “Explain. Now.”

Turns out another one of Brainstorm’s interdimensional inventions had crashed and brought the new bot on the ship.

 Magnus could practically feel the incoming migraine coming in.

The news of the new bot quickly spread throughout the ship, and everyone wanted to see them.

While walking to Swerve’s with Brainstorm and the now identified, Rapidfire, Magnus noticed that the new bot seemed to stick close to his side.

He figured that she would want to stay by his side after the save from Brainstorm.

But at the same time, it didn’t make sense as she was happily chatting with the bot who brought her into this mess in the first place.

Rapidfire is at one of the booths answering questions when Swerve passes her a cube of engex. Swerve: “Here have some engex! I’m sure that interdimensional travel can work up an appetite.” Rapidfire: “Thanks, but is it possible to get some normal energon? Not that I’m picky! I’m just not supposed to drink this yet.” Whirl: “Ha! Not supposed to drink it, what are ya? A Youngling?” Rapidfire: “Umm, yes?” Everyone: “…” Magnus: “What?” Brainstorm: “HOW!? You’re almost the exact size as Megatron!” Rapidfire stiffens a bit: “Yeah, I’m a bit taller than my Megatron back home too…” Tailgate: “Hey, where is Megatron anyways?” Rapidfire: “What?” Ratchet: “He is coming in with Rodimus.” Rapidfire: “Wait this universe has a Ratchet too? And what was this about—” The doors open and in walks in Rodimus and Megatron. Rodimus: “Sorry for the hold up, Megs here—” Rapidfire leaps over the table and tackles Megatron to the ground and starts slamming his helm against the ground. Tailgate holding onto Cyclonus: “By the Allspark!” Rodimus and Magnus try to pry her off Megatron. Rodimus: “HOW ARE YOU THIS STRONG!?” After a long talk, some patch work and several apologies later… Rapidfire: “Once again I apologize—” Megatron: “You have been apologizing for the past 10 minutes, you have already been forgiven.” Rapidfire: “You can blame my father for being polite sir.” Drift: “Father? Who? Must be a Wrecker with your strength and size.” Rapidfire: "The Commander of the Wreckers or what’s left of us.”  Magnus suddenly concern: “How many?” Rapidfire: “…5 counting myself and our newest human Wrecker, I’ll explain Miko later.” There was a lot of whispers and murmurs. Rapidfire: “If you think those numbers are bad, there are only 9 Autobots on Earth, well 8 now that I’m here.” Rodimus: “Sheesh, didn’t Prime want to send more recruits?” Rapidfire: “Umm, Rodimus Prime, right? I meant that as in the only bots online.” The bar fell into a deafening silence, she didn’t like it. Rapidfire: “But We’ll win, I’m sure of it. Magnus and Prime said to have faith then I’ll have faith.”

After the conversation, Rodimus extends his personal welcome to the ship telling her to stay as long as she can.

Which meant until Brainstorm and Perceptor could fix the gun to transport her back.

Rapidfire made fast friends with the former Wreckers and engineers of the ship.

And in a surprise move, also befriended the minibots, stating that she was ‘one of them’.

The crew thought it was a joke… until she showed an old data pad with a picture of her as a sparkling, dwarfed in the palm of Optimus Prime.

Megatron: “Is that Prime?”  Rapidfire: “Yep! Optimus and my father found me on the same day. That was how I looked before the first few weeks.” Tailgate: “You’re so tiny! But you still haven’t told us who your father is.” Rapidfire: “… You still haven’t figured it out? Wait, does he have a different job in this universe? Knew I should have considered that in—” Magnus: “Rapidfire—” Rapidfire: “Not now dad, what else could—” Everyone: “DAD?!” Rapidfire blinking: “Yeah?” Whirl looking back and forth at her and Magnus: “… I want a DNA test.” Rapidfire: “Adopted Whirl, not biological.”

Sadly, this wasn’t the worst reveal from Rapidfire’s visit on the Lost Light.

That award goes to Minimus Ambus reveal.

Minimus had made the mistake in leaving his office without his suit to go get something from his habsuite.

The next thing he hears is a blood curling scream and thunderous pedesteps shaking the ground.

Turns out Rapidfire had gone into the office and had seen the grey mech suit and immediately thought the worst had happened.

She kicked down the door to the med bay holding the suit in her arms, tears streaming down her faceplate pleading for someone to help him.

Ratchet and First Aid were in the middle of explaining the suit when Minimus came in.

She had a blank stare while he had finished his explanation.

By the end, Rapidfire fell to her knees and hugged him tightly.

Rapidfire prefers Minimus to be out of the suit so she can carry him.

Minimus DOES NOT like this.

It was a couple of weeks before the ray was finally fixed.

Many of the bots did not want her to go back.

Whirl tried to baracade her in his habsuite.

But to be fair, Rapidfire did want to smuggle Minimus so he could meet her Magnus.

In Primeverse… Rapidfire falls on top of Bulkhead. Bulkhead: “Kid!” Bulkhead pulls her into a tight hug. She immediately gives one tighter. Rapidfire: “You have no idea the kind of trip I—” Thunderous pede step are heard. Magnus: “RAPIDFIRE!” Rapidfire gets up and gives a nervous smile at the fast-moving bot. Maybe staying in the other dimension wasn’t such a bad idea… Rapidfire: “Hey—” She gets pulled into a tight hug by Magnus, who lets out a shaky sigh. Magnus: “Oh thank the Prime… Are you hurt? What happened? You’re signal went out and--” Rapidfire: “Hey, its fine, everything is fine. I promise I’ll explain everything.” Magnus just held her tighter.

[kybercrystals94]

Stolen Time

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 4 | "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen."

Rated: G | Words: 4,213

Author’s Note: Is this idea unique? Nah. Did I write it anyway? Absolutely I did. *throws another Tech-lives fic into the fandom*

The sensation of falling is not unfamiliar; however, the sensation of helplessness, of utter resignation, of a broken heart…these catch like a sob in Tech’s throat. Mere seconds stretch into an eternity. The devastated expressions of his siblings are seared behind his eyelids when he closes his eyes. He wishes they hadn’t witnessed him fall. It will haunt them, he knows. He never wanted that for them. However, he’d rather that they live with the trauma than die trying to save him. The price of his life for theirs is one he willingly pays. 

He just hopes that the impact kills him instantaneously.

***

He breaks the surface of consciousness with a breathless gasp. When he moves to sit up, a weight on each of his shoulders holds him back. A soothing voice speaks incomprehensibly and close, warm breath on his face. Tech continues to choke down gulps of air, his lungs greedily accepting the panicked doses. 

Words begin to take shape in the voice above him, and he hears his name, spoken so softly and gently that Tech knows that the speaker loves him. But he doesn’t recognize the voice, although his mind feels thick and muddled. Perhaps he simply cannot remember. 

“Easy, Tech, you’re safe. Shhh, you’re safe.” The weight on his shoulders lifts, and a heavier weight folds around him instead. It startles him until he realizes that it is an embrace, arms threaded behind him, pulling him close. “I missed you. We missed you. It’s alright. Shhh.” 

He doesn’t understand why the voice continues to hush him, as if he is making any noise at all. And then he hears it. Feels it. Shuttering sobs, hot tears, trembling limbs. But he doesn’t understand why. 

“Where am I?” he chokes out, “Why can’t I see?” 

“Your vision will come back,” the voice says, now close to his ear, “It’s a side effect of being in stasis. You were there for a long time.” 

Stasis…

“Who are you?” Tech asks next. “Why do I know you?” 

The voice does not answer for a long time, but the embrace holding becomes impossibly tighter. The face against his neck feels wet. “Oh, Tech. It’s me…It’s Omega.” 

“Omega?” Tech’s mind cannot reconcile the little girl of his memories with the woman’s voice speaking now. 

You were there for a long time. 

Years. Lost. Gone.

I missed you. We missed you.

His sister. His brothers. 

“We’re on our way back to Pabu,” Omega says. She pulls back, the weight of her embrace gone from his chest. It leaves an ache in its absence. Before he can despair, hands wrap around his, holding fast. “I haven’t told them that I’m coming…that we’re coming. They wouldn’t believe me unless they saw you with their own eyes.”

“Hunter,” Tech gasps out. “Wrecker?” 

“And Crosshair,” Omega adds. “They’re safe.” 

A knotted pain in his chest loosens, one he hadn’t recognized was there until Omega said the name. They’d found Crosshair. They’d brought him home. This time, Tech knows why he begins to cry, and knows that it is his little sister that gently comforts him. 

***

His vision comes back as Omega said it would; however, his sight remains impaired without his goggles to assist. Omega hands the lenses over, cracked and damaged from his fall, evidently, long ago. He doesn’t put them on. They won’t do much good in their dismal state.

Glancing up at the young woman sitting next to him, Tech experiences a strange and hollow grief. “You look older,” he says. “Much older than I remember you.” 

Omega smiles. “Wait until you see our brothers,” she tells him with a wink. It is meant to be humorous, but it just sends another wave of grief. That is what Tech is afraid of, if he is honest with himself. They will have aged while he has stayed the same. Having matured with them concurrently all his life, the reality that they have carried on without him is disheartening.

“Are they happy?” Tech asks, fingers tracing lightly over the broken glass of his goggles. 

Omega considers the question carefully. “Yes, they are,” she says at last. “They weren’t happy when I joined the Rebellion, but it was a different sort of sadness, I think. I might be older and stronger and wiser, but I’ll always be the little girl from Kamino, won’t I?” Omega chuckles. “Always my little brothers’ kid sister.” 

Tech can appreciate that sentiment. He releases a huffed chuckle. 

“But how are you feeling?” Omega asks. “It must be overwhelming.”

“It is,” Tech agrees. “It does not quite seem real. Like it might be an elaborate hallucination.” 

“If it would help,” Omega says, the edge of her lips quirking into a mischievous grin, “I can pinch you.” 

Tech snorts, rolling his eyes. “That is not necessary. I only said it doesn’t quite seem real.” 

Omega shrugs. “Just putting the offer out there.” 

“You have become quite adept at flying,” Tech says, shifting the subject away from himself. He hasn’t seen more than Omega’s little vessel hurtling through hyperspace, which does not take any sort of talent; however, the comment seems to shift something in Omega’s stance. She looks proud, as though he has just paid her the highest of compliments. 

Perhaps he has. 

Omega leans back in the pilot’s seat. “I hope so. That’s kind of my job now.” 

“Indeed?” 

Omega spends the hours of hyperspace recounting to Tech everything he’s missed. While his sister is animated and entertaining in narrative, it is shared with a subtle detachment. After all, she is sharing her past, her history. He is catching up, trying to understand the circumstances which have shaped the future he has unceremoniously stepped into. 

And while he listens with rapt attention, it also breaks his heart.

***

Omega’s flying skills are fully demonstrated as they approach the familiar island on Pabu. Omega guides her ship toward the base of the island rather than the landing pad at the top. When Tech opens his mouth to ask, Omega answers before he can get a word out. “Oh, you’ll love this, Tech. Watch.” 

With the practiced ease of a veteran pilot, Omega brings them nearly to the surface of the ocean, steering the ship into the gaping mouth of a cavern, neither wings nor fin scraping any sort of stone. Deftly, she activates the landing sequence, bringing the vessel to rest on the floor of the cave.

“Where was this when the Marauder was destroyed?” Tech retorts. 

Omega sighs. “Hindsight is much clearer than foresight,” she says. “In our defense, we were trying to load the ship to flee Pabu at the time.”

Tech is fully aware; however, the sharp sting of loss is still persistent. 

“If we give them a minute, I’m sure they are on their way down from the house,” Omega says, standing and stretching, her spine and shoulders popping loudly in the now silent ship. “Hunter has a radar for incoming ships.”

Tech looks out the viewport. The cavern has been lit up with strategically placed light sources, likely activated by their arrival. The island is already dark, several hours into the night cycle, although the evening is young enough that their brothers would not have gone to bed yet. 

Omega walks back into the main hold and begins shoving items into a leather bag. Tech watches her, feeling unsure what to do with himself. He does not have anything, possession or otherwise. If Omega notices the awkwardness, she does not show it, and merely slings the strap of her bag over her shoulder before lowering the ramp. 

“And there they are,” she says softly, tossing him a grin over her shoulder before she descends the steps two at a time. 

Tech hears them, their voices familiar but strange. More conversational and emotive than he remembers them…with the exception of Wrecker, of course. He sounds exactly the same. They greet Omega cheerfully, questions about her wellbeing and health tangling over one another. Is she being careful? Has she been getting enough sleep? Enough to eat? Resting between missions? Omega patiently answers each one, and Tech can hear an indulgent smile in her voice. 

“You should have told us you were coming home,” Hunter admonishes lightly, with absolutely no heat in his tone. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” Omega says. “Because I found something…someone…and I brought him back just as soon as I could.” 

Tech knows that that is his cue. He inhales a deep breath, but it shudders weakly when he exhales. Stepping into the doorway, he finally sees his brothers. Without the benefit of his goggles, their expressions are smudged to his view, but they go completely still, frozen in place as they stare up at him. To his mind, it has only been a few short hours since he has seen them, and with Crosshair, long months.  

But to his brothers, it has been nearly a lifetime. They have mourned him, honored his memory by living as he hoped they would always be able to live: free and safe. He does not know how they will react to seeing that he is alive, preserved just as they last remembered him. A living, breathing ghost. Time has stopped once again when none of them move. Tech doesn’t know how to set the chrono ticking again.

To his relief, Omega breaks the silence. “We discovered a warehouse containing hundreds of cryo-cycle stasis pods. From the intel we’ve decrypted, it seems that Hemlock kept what he referred to as promising specimens that he thought might be useful in future projects. When Project Necromancer was shut down, the coordinates to the warehouse were lost. We recovered dozens of survivors, Tech being one of them.” 

Although Tech has already heard this news, Omega having shared the details of his rescue as soon as he was coherent enough to comprehend, he hears it anew from the perspective he might have if the roles were reversed.  

He imagines the shock alone is incomprehensible. Painful even.

“You mean he’s been alive all this time?” A voice asks, shattered with jagged edges. “We could have found him…Hemlock might’ve told us…” 

It takes Tech a moment to process that it is Crosshair speaking, his most severe and unyielding brother’s voice bloodied and raw.  

Omega shakes her head. “No. We can’t think like that,” she says firmly. “What matters is that he’s back now. We have our brother back now. Wondering what we might’ve done differently won’t change anything.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.

“I don’t remember anything after my fall on Eriadu,” Tech supplies weakly, stepping down from the ramp. “I…had no awareness until Omega found me.” 

He hopes that the knowledge is a small comfort; however, it seems to have the opposite effect. Tech desperately wishes for the lightheartedness of several minutes prior, when he was still out of view, and Omega’s presence had brought their brothers immense joy. 

But suddenly, the mood shifts again, an unruly tide determined to be unpredictable. Wrecker laughs, the sound reverberating off the uneven cavern walls, echoing back at them. He rushes forward and envelops Tech in a familiar, bone crushing embrace. It entirely dispels the air from Tech’s lungs, and he gasps for breath even as he smiles. 

“We missed you, Techie!” Wrecker tells him, lifting Tech bodily from the ground. 

Tech wheezes out, “I would say the same, but it only feels as though I took a prolonged sleep cycle.” 

“Let him breathe, Wrecker,” Omega says, but she is laughing too, the gentle chide ignored for several more moments before Tech is released to a looser hold, Wrecker’s arm still around him. 

Hunter comes forward next and puts his hands on Tech’s shoulders, dark eyes searching Tech’s face for something Tech doesn’t know. “You haven’t aged a day, have you?” his oldest brother asks. 

“Well, that is the design of the stasis pod,” Tech tells him. 

Hunter laughs and pulls Tech close, his embrace nearly rivaling Wrecker’s in its intensity. “And you haven’t changed at all, my brilliant little brother,” he says softly.  

Tech feels the irritating sensation of moisture gathering in his eyes at the gentle words, but he does not wish to cry in front of his brothers. He has done quite enough of that in front of his sister. 

With some effort and not a little regret, Tech disentangles himself from Wrecker and Hunter’s grasp. There is one brother he has not seen since the destruction of Kamino, has not directly spoken to since he stepped in to draw Wrecker away from Crosshair’s cruelty. 

“Let it go, Wrecker. Crosshair has always been severe and unyielding. It is his nature. You can not change that. He cannot change that.”

“Why are you defending me?” 

“I am not. Understanding you does not mean that I agree with you.”

If Omega’s stories are anything to go by and bear any weight of reliability, it seems that Tech was wrong. Crosshair could change, did change, has changed. Tech wants to see and speak to his returned brother for himself, apologize for not pushing to recover him sooner. 

But when Tech steps around Wrecker and Hunter, and they all turn to where Crosshair had stood, the space is empty, gone like a shadow banished by light. 

***

It takes much convincing, but Tech is finally allowed to search for Crosshair on his own. He suspects that their conversation is better done in private. Omega offers him a few places that their brother might have disappeared to, but Tech is fortunate enough to find Crosshair in the first one. It is a tree house near the top of the island, built by his brothers for Omega and any children who might enjoy it. This late in the night, the little structure is seemingly vacant, but Tech climbs the rungs of the rope ladder anyway. Crosshair sits across from the narrow opening in the floor, back against the short wall, one leg out and one drawn up with his arms crossed and propped on his knee. 

“Hello,” Tech says, pulling himself up and settling himself across from Crosshair. 

Crosshair’s face is turned down, and even if he lifted it, Tech could probably not read his expression in the dim light. “Omega already told you about all of our hiding spots?” Crosshair asks. 

Tech hums, glancing around. “Not all of them, I’m sure. She only gave me a brief summary of the most likely locations.”

“I’m surprised you snuck away,” Crosshair says. “I didn’t think Hunter would let you out of his sight for the next ten standard years.” 

“That is a gross exaggeration,” Tech muses, “and I did not sneak anywhere. I told them I was going, and they let me. You on the other hand…” 

Crosshair makes a scoffing noise. It is so achingly familiar that Tech feels a tight fist of emotion lodge in his throat. It does not take much effort to imagine that this is one of the many times that Tech has sought Crosshair out, sitting with him in the quiet of a supply closet until he was ready to return to the barracks. They had always been able to communicate in silent moments, a steady presence when words were inadequate. 

The silence between them now, however, is stilted and strained. A weight and a distance. 

Tech desperately wants to fill it. Before he fell, when he thought they were going to rescue Crosshair from the Empire, Tech had rehearsed what he might say. But now, against Tech’s will, with years passed, his practiced words have expired. Crosshair has come back, has changed, has grown older in both body and mind. A few months to Tech are now years and memories to Crosshair. 

Tech does not know what to say, does not know what reparations have already been made. What he could add, what he should add, what he should leave to rest. 

He wishes he had asked Omega for more insight rather than a basic history of events. 

To his surprise, it is Crosshair that fills the silence instead. “They told me it was you that first wanted to ignore my warning message.” 

“Only because it was I that found it first,” Tech says. 

“I told you to hide.” 

“We were never ones to follow orders, were we?” Tech asks with a grin. 

“You shouldn’t have died,” Crosshair says, voice thick. 

“And I didn’t,” Tech returns. “Merely an extended absence.” 

Crosshair growls at that. “Merely,” he sneers, but Tech recognizes the grief. It is a reflection of his own. 

“Not merely,” Tech amends. “I do not regret my attempted sacrifice. But since I did not perish, I regret that I have missed growing old with all of you, seeing Omega grow up.” 

“It’s my fault. If I hadn’t…if I had just come with you on Kamino…” Crosshair cuts himself off.

Tech sighs. “Do not try to shoulder the weight of shared blame, Crosshair. We might have all made different decisions with different outcomes. I am sorry we did not try to find you sooner.” 

Crosshair shakes his head, and Tech hears a sharp intake of breath. He is moving before he thinks better of it, sitting next to Crosshair on the rough, wood slat floor. He wraps an arm around Crosshair’s back, drawing him into his side. The former sniper resists at first, leaning away, but Tech takes a metaphorical page from Wrecker’s book and holds fast until Crosshair resigns to be held. 

“I know that I am late to say it; however, it is true nonetheless,” Tech says in a low voice. “I am most relieved you found your way home.” 

“It was Omega’s fault,” Crosshair huffs. He swallows audibly and adds, “She brought you home too.” 

Tech smiles. “She does have an uncanny aptitude for finding things that are lost.” 

“How is it that you can say something profound and make it sound like an understatement?” Crosshair chuckles brokenly. 

“It is one of my many talents,” Tech says. 

They sit for a long time in comfortable silence.

***

Omega announces that she can stay on Pabu for two weeks. What is exploring the island to Tech is reminiscing to his siblings as they share stories and memories associated with every place they go. 

This large rock formation on the west beach is where Crosshair and Hunter taught Omega how to dive. 

This little fishing boat is the one they built together during their first spring on Pabu. 

These tide pools are where they spent nearly every Benduday in the summer. 

This is where they built a sand castle so big that it took the tide nearly a week to smooth it back to nothing. 

This clearing is where they’d go camping to practice Omega’s survival skills. 

This is the street Omega was running down when she fell and broke her arm. 

This is the food stall where they’d get their decanting day treats every year. 

Countless memories excitedly shared. 

And he missed every single one. 

It is the last afternoon before Omega leaves that their brothers return to the house early. They do not say it, but Tech can see that they are tired, their stamina not the same as it was when they were soldiers and younger. So they leave Omega and Tech and Batcher down on the beach, telling them they’ll have fresh caf ready for them when they come home. 

Tech and Omega watch Batcher chase after the moon-yos, the little creatures chattering at the lurca hound as they scamper just out of reach. Omega chuckles sadly, poking at the sand with a piece of driftwood. “She's getting old,” she mutters. “The moon-yos are letting her keep up.” 

“Batcher does not seem to mind,” Tech observes. 

“She doesn’t know any better,” Omega says. “She doesn’t know that time is a thief. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t know either. Just enjoy each and every day without wondering when it will end.” 

That is a somber thought. Tech turns his gaze to the water, waves calmly lapping the shore, unperturbed by the bleak conversation. 

“You will leave tomorrow?” Tech asks. 

Omega nods. “At sunup.” 

Batcher starts barking at something she’s found, leaping and wagging her tail. Omega smiles and pushes herself to her feet, going to see what the beast has discovered. 

Tech knows why his brothers do not join Omega in the Rebellion. They have already fought a war, fought for the life they now have, the peace they’ve now embraced. He discussed it with them late one night after Omega had gone to bed. It was not a decision made lightly, especially Omega leaving to join the Rebellion on her own. Hunter admitted that her ambitions clashing with his fear had led to many heated arguments in the beginning, until Omega tried to slip away into the night without warning. Omega is a warrior, a rescuer, a fighter. She is restless and uneasy until she knows she has done everything in her power to help those in need.

Tech understands her drive deeply. But to watch her leave again, he does not think he can stand it. He’s already lost so much time…

“Perhaps,” Tech says, softly, almost inaudible over the noise of the surf, “I will come with you.” 

Omega doesn’t hear him, but he’s already made up his mind. 

***

Tech wakes before the sun rises, but Omega’s room is already empty. She said her goodbyes last night to each of them, and Tech did not say a word about his plan; however, he had hoped to catch her before she left the house. He does not have much, but he snatches the small bag he packed and bolts out the front door, not as quietly as he would have hoped. The path to the cavern has become familiar enough that even in the dim light of approaching dawn, he finds his way quickly. 

He only slows his pace when he sees his sister ahead of him, just entering the gaping mouth of the cave.

“If you are under the impression that you are going without me, that is not going to happen,” he says as he comes in behind her. 

Omega stops short and her shoulders drop subtly, before she turns to face him, dark eyes weary. “Tech, you belong here, with our brothers. We just got you back…we can’t - we won’t - risk losing you again.” 

“That is not for any of you to decide,” Tech declares. “You have chosen that your path is with the Rebellion, and I have chosen that my path is with my sister. So much of my time has been stolen. I did not see you grow up as our brothers did. I did not help teach you or raise you. I can make up for that now.”

“Tech,” Omega sighs, “You taught me so much–” 

“Please, Omega,” Tech cuts her off. “I have already decided. Do not try to leave me behind, because we both know I can and will find alternate means. It would be much simpler this way.” 

That makes his sister smile, a battle worn grin that looks far too old. “I suppose you’re right about that,” she concedes, shifting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “But what will Hunter say?” 

“He’d probably say don’t take unnecessary risks, and watch out for one another,” Hunter’s voice calls out. 

Tech takes a steadying breath before he faces his brothers who have come in behind them. “Apologies, I did not mean to wake you when I left,” he says.

“If you hadn’t meant to wake us,” Crosshair says with a wry grin, “you wouldn’t have sounded like a herd of stampeding rancors as you ran out the door.” 

“Rancors do not move in herds,” Tech tells him. 

Crosshair groans. “It made my point, didn’t it?”  

“I was trying to catch up to Omega,” Tech explains, “I fully intended on returning to give my farewells before officially departing.” 

“You better have,” Wrecker says, scooping Tech up in his arms. “You keep an eye on little Meg. She’s a crazy pilot. Learned it from you.” 

“It’s called skill,” Omega retorts playfully. “But yes, I did learn it from Tech.” 

Tech wriggles out of Wrecker’s grip in time for Crosshair to sidle up and put a loose arm over Tech’s shoulder. “Make Omega come visit more often,” he says. 

Hunter nods. “And make sure she calls us at least once a week.” 

Omega rolls her eyes. “Guys, Tech’s not coming to be my babysitter. If anything, I’m going to be reminding him we need to call.”

“In that case,” Hunter says, pulling Omega into his arms, “make sure Tech comes and visits his older brothers once in a while, huh?”

Omega leans into him. “Of course. We both will. I promise.” 

It is well past sunup before Tech and Omega board her ship. He waits for her to move to the pilot’s seat, but she hangs back, watching him with a smile. “You wanna get us out of here?” she asks. “Modified this beauty myself…well, Echo helped. But you can let me know how she handles.” 

Tech grins. He does not need to be asked twice. 

END

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[sokkadora]

Protective/ knight in shining armor Wrecker that’s fluffy with a bit of steamy. Like with a regular civilian reader who he has a soft spot for.

too sweet — wrecker x reader

summary: you can handle yourself quite well, but when a handsome clone comes along and protects you and your business without question; who are you to refuse?

a/n: hope this lives up to your expectations anon! <3

wc: 647

warning(s): rude man 💔, a bit steamy (i’m not great at smutty stuff yet so pardon, me projecting my hate for customer service as a girl working as a waitress 🙏

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

“We quite literally have a minute until we close, sir,”

The Rodian before you continued to ignore common courtesy, still trying to force his way into your restaurant on Ord Mantell. You held a hand out and it stopped him for a moment, but he brushed past you. You groaned, following him back into your establishment.

“One minute more to serve!” His voice booms through the empty lobby as he walks to the cash register. You rub your forehead, placing a hand on your hip.

“Sir, I have to tell you again that we are now officially closed,” You inform him sternly, unaware of the presence looming in the doorway. “Everything’s been washed and put away, I’ve sent my employees home with their tips, and just took note of today’s earnings. We’re not accepting any more customers now that we’re closed.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” He scoffed, eyes narrowing at you. “I’m here, offering you money, and you turn me away?!”

“If you come back tomorrow before closing, I’d be more than happy to serve you,” You offered out some sort of olive branch, hoping he’d just take it and leave— but of course; he does not.

But before he can say anything else, his gaze lands on something behind you; eyes widening. 

You try to turn your head to see what he’s seen, but a large, warm, and familiar hand lands on the small of your back and a kiss presses to your temple. The potent smell of sweat, smoke, and vanilla creeps into your senses, and you turn to see your gentle giant.

“There a problem ‘ere?” Wrecker asks the much shorter man, voice loud and firm enough to cause him to flinch. His stare moves to you and he glares sharply right into your eyes.

“Your spouse here just lost a customer, is all,” The Rodian straightens up, finally walking over to the door. “Good night.”

Huffing out a sigh, you yelp as Wrecker lifts you by the waist and spins you. You begin giggling happily before he pulls you down into a warm embrace. His large hands dug into the fabric of your work shirt, but you could care less; your love was home and that was all that mattered.

“You alright, mesh’la?” He gently sets you back onto your feet, hands engulfing your head gently as he caressed your cheeks softly. 

“Better now that you’re here,” You admit softly, turning your head and planting a kiss to his callused palm. His heart fluttered at the sight of your vulnerability. Wrecker was well aware of your ability to fend for yourself, and it made him so happy that you were willing to trust him enough to catch you if you really needed his help— with absolutely anything. He’d do anything for the most important person in his life. “It’s good to see you in one piece.”

“Had to get back to my girl,” He grinned down at you, leaning down and planting a kiss to your lips. His grin grew even wider— something you didn’t think was possible, —- as he leaned down and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting and setting you onto the counter. He pecks you once more, “My riduur,” 

Your thighs tightened around his hips in a knee jerk reaction as he let his head fall to the crook of your neck, kissing upwards. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be used to him calling you that— not that you were complaining.

“Missed you so much,” He slides his hands down your sides, settling them on your hips as he rested his forehead against your own. “I hate being away from you. Makes me miserable.”

“I missed you too, love,” You swallowed thickly, resting your hands on his shoulders. “Thought about you every second of every day.”

His right hand rose to rest on the side of your neck, thumbing your bottom lip softly, “Every second?”

“Every second.”

He grinned, picking you up and beginning to walk to your office, “Let’s make up for lost time then.”

[pimosworld]

Santa’s a home wrecker

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

Summary- A little kiss leads to a Christmas morning misunderstanding.

CW-18+, Fluff, so much fluff, Kissing Santa, Pregnancy hormones, tf boys being great parents, polyamorous relationship, navigating a mixed family.

WK-1.6K

A/N- Set in the story of us universe but obviously in the future. We jumped way ahead here folks but I hope you love this fluffy snippet into their future lives.

Not beta read

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

It’s a little easier now since they let you sleep on the end, but it’s still a chore to roll out of bed with your heavily pregnant belly in tow. You sit on the edge for a moment trying to soothe yourself as the kicks come in quick succession. 

  You try as quietly as you can to make your way out of the bedroom, stealing a glance at Ben’s large form sprawled across Frankie in the most uncomfortable way. 

  You're wrapped up in your fluffy red robe, an early Christmas gift from the boys that you’ve been living in for the last month or so while you grow out of everything else you own. 

  The house is quiet and warm as you shuffle down the hallway and smells like cinnamon apples from the pies you made for Christmas Day. 

  A peek into the spare bedroom shows you a glimpse into most of your nights when it's Santiago’s turn to put the kids down for bed. 

  He’s snoring in the chair that sits between Camila and little Santiago’s beds. Both children slumbering away as they dream about the most exciting day of the year. 

  Some rustling is coming from the living room and you round the corner to a site that will never cease to make you smile. The boys take turns being Santa every year and they never do anything halfway. Your arms are crossed as you lean against the wall staring at the rich, dark red velvet material bent over in front of the tree. Deliberately placing gifts from the giant red bag in various spots. 

  You let out a low whistle as you make your way towards the bearded man. “Santa has a nice ass.” 

  He chuckles and stands gesturing with his arms for you to come to him. It’s a bit of a struggle now to be held but he still makes you feel all warm and fuzzy as you sway in the living room in front of the lowlights of the tree. You humm as he rubs your belly, somehow the kicking stops as if the baby taking up home inside knows whose hands are caressing you. 

  “How’s mama doing?” He asks as he kisses your neck, the fluff from his beard tickling you slightly. 

  “I’m tired…someone keeps kicking me.” You sigh into his touch as he drops to his knees, his fingers kneading that spot in your back that he knows pains you throughout the day. 

  “Hey little guy.” He speaks so softly in some adorable voice he’s made up. 

  “He’s a big guy, Will…a very big guy.” You know well enough having been told ad nauseum Miller babies are big.

  “Hey big guy…I need you to give your momma a rest so she can enjoy tomorrow okay?” He holds his ear to your belly and nods. When he looks up at you all you can make out is those piercing blue eyes nestled between the red hat and white beard. “He said okay.” 

  A small tear escapes as he kisses your belly and stands again. You can’t even blame it on the hormones. 

  “Go lay down, I’ll bring you some tea when I finish here.” One last kiss to your lips and he’s shooing you away so he can complete his Santa duties and enjoy his peanut butter cookies special request. 

  ****

  Frankie stacks the pancakes high on the plate next to the stove, as he moves on to the eggs and bacon. 

  Ben hasn’t said a word just eyeing the food as you enjoy your morning tea, surprised the kids haven’t graced you with their presence yet. 

  Santi’s creaking bones enter the kitchen before he’s seen as he cracks his back in the hallway. Frankie laughs from the stove as he flips the bacon perfectly somehow never burning it. 

  “Laugh it up hermano.” He leans down and kisses your forehead before heading over to the fresh coffee pot. 

  “I’m not the one that keeps falling asleep in the chair.” 

  You hear the sound of hurried footsteps down the hallway as Camila quickly emerges into the kitchen beaming from ear to ear. She barrels into Frankie hugging him from behind as he reaches around and ruffles her long black curls. “Buenos Días papá.” 

  “Buenos Días mi amor.” 

  Frankie kisses her forehead and she makes her way over to you and Santi to say her good mornings and receive hugs and kisses. 

  She climbs into Ben’s lap forgoing an open seat as she waits for breakfast to finish. The way the two of them could eat you were worried about welcoming another Miller into the household for lack of food resources. 

  “Good Morning daddy.” She wraps her little arms around him and it’s a feeling he’ll never get used to. 

  “Good morning honey.” She stole your nickname early on when she could look so sweet at them and instantly get her way. 

  There was a rule from the beginning that there would be no distinction unless medically necessary between the fathers. They were all fathers and that’s all that mattered. 

  “Sweetie, where's Santiago?” She looks slightly uncomfortable as she leans in and whispers something in Ben’s ear. 

  “He’s not coming?” Ben looks over to you as Santi looks to Frankie now done cooking breakfast. 

  She leans in again whispering something as Ben’s eyes widen. He has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at the situation that he knows will need to be handled swiftly. 

  “He doesn’t want to open presents from a home wrecker.” 

  You’re grateful you hadn’t taken a sip of your tea or it would’ve been all over your new robe. 

  Frankie flicks off the stove and heads over to the table. “How do you even know that word, young lady?”  

  Ben leans in whispering something in her ear and she relaxes slightly. 

  “Well…ugh.” She’s in the hot seat by way of Santi much like her father often does to other people. You lay your hand on hers and wince slightly cursing this baby for picking the most opportune moments to make himself known. 

  “Camila it’s okay, you can tell me…you’re not in trouble.” 

  “Tia Marí said Tio John kissed a homewrecker and that’s why they’re not together anymore.” It comes out all rushed and flustered and you're trying not to giggle at her panicked confession. 

  Frankie points at Santi while he still looks on confused. “Your sister is off babysitting duty for a while.”

  Santi scrubs his hand down his face. “I'm still not following.” 

  Ben places his hands over her ears so she can’t hear. “Will was Santa last night.” He grits out as she giggles.

Santiago must have woken up and seen you kissing “Santa”.

  “Daddy I can’t hear anything.” He starts tickling her as she squeals in delight. 

  “Good because if you did, you wouldn’t get any presents.” They continue their giggles as you let out a long sigh. 

  “We’re gonna eat breakfast while you two go handle that.” Frankie starts serving up plates as Ben and Camila clap in excitement. 

  ****

  Santiago is face down in the blankets when you enter his room. He was a deep sleeper so it was pretty obvious when he was pretending. His little breaths are coming in shallow like he just ran here and plopped himself down. 

  You have a seat on the edge as Santi sits in the chair beside him. 

  Santi rubs his back hoping to calm him a little before he speaks. “Hey bud, you want to tell me what’s wrong?” 

  Inaudible mumbles come from the pillow and you bite down on your tongue at the mirror image. Payback for all the time Santi made someone chase him for a simple misunderstanding coming back ten fold. 

  “I didn’t hear you mijo, que pasó.” He slowly rolls him over as Santiago rubs his red eyes. 

  “I…don’t want…I don’t want.” He’s sniffling and Santi tries to calm him so he can catch his breath. 

  “Deep breaths bud.” 

  He shakily inhales and wipes his little hands on the blanket. “I don’t want Santa to break up our home.” 

  You could kill Maria for almost ruining Christmas morning, but you know one day you’ll get to tell this hilarious story to your children when they’re all grown up. You let Santiago take the reins even though you did kiss Santa. This was not your mess to clean up. 

  “Santiago, no one is breaking up our home. I love your mama very much.” Santiago crawls over to you as you wrap him up in your arms, kissing his unruly brown locks. 

  “You promise?” Your heart breaks a little as those little puppy dog eyes look up at you. 

  “Yes we promise.” He exhales as he relaxes in your arms and you look up at Santi incredulously. 

  “Santa is my friend…he’s allowed to kiss your mama.” Santiago looks up at his dad with pure shock written all over his face. 

  “WHAT!” He balks at him as you burst into a fit of laughter. 

  “HO, HO,HO…” The boisterous sound echoes down the hallway from the living room. 

  Santiago scrambles off your lap as you fall back with an oomph. Your belly won’t allow anymore movements like that so you succumb to the comfort of his tiny car bed, as his father chases after him. 

  ****

  Camila is standing in front of the tree as Santa hands her the first gift. 

  “Well hello little boy, would you like a gift from Santa?” 

  He runs up to him with his hands on his hips as he pokes him in the surprisingly hard belly. “Next time just drop off the gifts and go.” 

  Will looks up confused by his son's words as Frankie and Benny are losing it in the kitchen. 

  Santi stands there in the same stance. 

  “Don’t worry I’ll explain later.” 

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[moonrisecoeur]

content warning for dubcon/borderline noncon (consent is always mandatory in real life)

different scenario of best friend!leon where he’s crying and curled up against you and you just can’t help but want to take him from his girlfriend, whether or not be lets you. their argument wasn’t going to end their relationship, but he’ll never be able to look her in the eye after this <3

he whimpers loudly and pathetically as he cries. i just know he does. he’s crying over something stupid she did that he’ll eventually get over, but if you’re being honest? it would be so easy to take advantage of him.

you start out by pressing very very light kisses to his shoulder over his shirt. he doesn’t even notice, but something about him not noticing makes it even hotter. and then your lips hover on his neck, hot breath on his skin should be something that catches his attention, but it doesn’t. not even when you start to kiss his neck, until you get a little too cocky and your teeth graze against his skin.

“what… what are.. you doing?” he stutters, asking nervously, suddenly realizing that he’s not in the right headspace for this. he’s not completely sober, he’s emotionally distraught, he’s crying and sobbing into your shoulder, ruining your pretty shirt, yet you’re… kissing his neck.

“accident, sorry,” you say quickly, trying to prove your innocence, but your hand on his waist feels anything but innocent. even after you apologize, claim you didn’t mean to, you leave another soft kiss on his neck. this time, you physically feel him and hear the beautiful sound of him whining, as if crying out and begging you to keep going. you know that’s not what means. that doesn’t really matter.

he feels his heart pounding in his chest, “but my-my girlfriend… i don’t… i’m not just going to…”

“you’re not doing anything wrong, she doesn’t have to know,” you whisper as you press your lips to his jaw, hanging slightly open, “you can just let me keep going… i’ll make you feel good when she can’t, when she won’t.”

he feels the need to fight back a little more, say something like she’s my girlfriend and i can’t just do that to her. but he doesn’t feel fully in control of himself either. maybe it was the alcohol he drank earlier from the bar with his cop buddies. maybe it’s the way he didn’t realize your hand is down his pants until you were stroking his cock through them. maybe it’s something else.

maybe he liked you? he didn’t really know. he kinda liked you before he had a girlfriend, but thought you didn’t want him like that. his current girlfriend was someone new, and he just fell for her charms because she was remarkably forward and bold, always touching his leg, running her fingers through his hair, telling him how handsome and attractive he was, etc. leon was helpless in falling for her.

“can i kiss you?” you ask, bringing him out of his thoughts. the question is startling, and it’s a big decision to make.

if he doesn’t let you, he’s scared of what might happen. will you leave him? will you kick him out and leave him no where to run to like the lost puppy he’d be?

if he does let you, what does that make him? a cheater?he didn’t really want to cheat on his girlfriend, but you’re just so… convincing. and he’s not in a state where he’d need a lot do it. what would it make you? the home-wrecker? would his girlfriend hate you for it? would she hate him? should she?

his girlfriend is so passive, yet so demanding. she’ll give nothing and take everything leon has to give, and he keeps giving just to keep her satisfied. leon wonders if you’d be any different.

leon has thought about kissing you before. he’s thought about a lot worse, actually, but tried to pretend he didn’t because you weren’t his and he wasn’t allowed to think about his friend like that. but he has. he imagines your soft lips, sticky with the lip gloss he knows you like to wear. he knows it would taste like strawberries if he could just…

“yeah,” he finally decides, “you can kiss me… please… uhm, kiss me, please.”

you smile softly and nod, acknowledging your victory, before leaning in. it’s everything he thought it would be and more. he tries not to compare you to his girlfriend or her to you, but he can’t help but think you’re a million times better.

he could list off the reasons why he likes kissing you more, but he’d say the main one is how you’re giving and taking with balance, letting him touch your face gently while also resting a hand on the back of his neck. your hand down his sweats releases him and just holds his waist while he holds onto you the same. he doesn’t feel empty as he gives you his all but he doesn’t feel smothered with the intensity he knows is locked inside. he’s looking for the key.

he moans at the taste of your lip gloss, and yes, your lips are just as delicious as he imagined. he can’t bear to let you pull away, holding the collar of your shirt when you try to to keep you in kissing distance. not that you mind, you just didn’t expect leon to be so desperate so fast.

“i’m… i’m not… i’m not a bad person right?” he breathes heavily as he finally lets you pull away, and his moral conscious starts to come back to him, “our argument was so dumb, a-and i… i still couldn’t… maybe we should stop.”

“oh, sweetheart,” you mumble gently, pressing your fingers into the soft skin of his waist, while your free hand traces the lines of his face. he still can’t stop blushing, “you can’t just leave me like this. can’t just kiss me and then expect me to not get addicted, pretty boy.”

well that name was new. he certainly was not called that by his girlfriend, “i don’t.. i can’t do this to her. a kiss was bad enough, but if we… go all the way… i can’t do that.”

your hand on his waist drops down to caress his thigh, moving up closer and closer. whether or not leon admits it and lets you do anything, he’s needy. he’s extremely turned on, his body practically begging you to touch him.

“no, wait, stop, i- i know you- you’re trying to help, and i- i appreciate it! but, please, i can’t do this to her.”

but his body betrays him as he lets out a moan, his voice breaking, and his hand grasps your arm for support. he throws his head back as you finally touch his aching cock, gulping nervously.

“please, i don’t want to hurt her, this is so.. this is wrong. you need to stop, i need to go—”

and that’s when you look up at him, baby blues staring back at you helplessly. he’s begging you to keep going. he’s also begging for you to stop. he’s confused too, if it helps. you narrow your eyes at him, “and go where? you already betrayed your girlfriend by making out with me and letting me touch your cute n pretty cock, baby. you can’t go back to her.”

and when he opens his mouth to defend himself, you stick your index and middle finger into it instead, “suck, baby,” you murmur to him, and he moans as he complies. for someone so resistant and not giving in to what he knows he wants, he’s oddly obedient.

“she doesn’t want you anymore, now that you’ve cheated on her,” you say like it’s a simple fact. like that the grass is green and the sky is blue, “you’re just a pretty little toy now, aren’t you?

he’s breathing raggedly as your soft touches become full strokes. his body is tense as he shakes his head, “no, fuck, please, i-i know we’re friends but this isn’t okay, please…”

“shhh, don’t cry, sweet boy,” you whisper as you notice the tears in his eyes. you lean in to kiss him, suddenly less soft and sweet like strawberries, but now his sobs feel visceral as he moans in your mouth, his ragged breaths cutting of the kiss before you pull him tighter to keep it going.

when you pull away, he looks soft, vulnerable, dazed.

“fuck, leon..” you mumble, pressing kisses to his shoulder, “if you keep looking at me like that, i’ll have no choice to do this to you every day, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

he stutters, briefly imagining a reality where he spent all his days being kissed and touched and loved by you. he doesn’t hate it, “n-no! i… i mean kind of, yes, i don’t.. i like it, it’s just… i’m with her, i can’t.. i can’t be doing this with you.”

his insistence of putting up this wall between the two of you is getting tiring, so you up your game. you lean in to press soft kisses to his neck, enjoying his heavy breaths and the little sounds that escape his throat when your lips are on him.

“please don’t, i… my girlfriend is—” his voice sounds strained, like he’s using all of his effort to keep himself contained and controlled.

“doesn’t fucking matter anymore. all that matters is that i want you. and i will get what i want, leon, won’t i? i always get what i want.”

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hi beautiful!!!!!!

Goodness I've been over your prompt list so many times. There are so many good ones I don't know which ones to choose 🥵 so here's what I finally decided on! (For now 😉) 11 and 23 with my man Hunter please!!!

Can't wait to see what you create!!!! ❤️

Hello gorgeous! My dear @dragonrider9905 I knew you'd come to me with Hunter. Not that I blame you in anyway, shape or form. Also the GIF has nothing to do with the story ... I picked it because he looked hot in it. LOL

I hope you enjoy it, it's a little short.

I Love You

Warnings: Blaster shot, headache, injury, feelings being a burden, fluff, angst, declarations of love.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

You sat beside Hunter, holding his hand waiting for him to come to; the blaster to the chest knocked him out for a good while. Thankfully, his armour stopped any serious damage, but seeing him not responding was driving you crazy.

“He’ll come to, in a little while” Tech offered as he came to check on Hunter. 

“I know. I just … when I saw the blaster hole on his chest plate … I couldn’t breathe … I just need him to wake up.”

“So you can yell at him?”

You glanced up to Tech, smirking, “Maybe. But that’s neither here nor there.”

“Just try not to yell too loudly, he’ll have a horrible headache when he wakes.”

“Then my point will get across even faster.”

Tech shook his head, “You have a strange way of showing your love.”

“I know,” you answered, your smile slowly shifting. It had been something Hunter mentioned over and over again, sometimes you got a little carried away with how much you loved him. Worrying about things you didn’t need to worry about. Putting pressure on him, when you didn’t have to … it wasn’t because you were possessive, or needed to lay a claim on him. It was because you were afraid to lose him. 

You already lost so much, family, friends, home, that when you met Hunter and his brothers, it was a life line you desperately needed. 

“Don’t worry, he may grumble a little but he enjoys the way you shower him with affection.”

“Thanks, Tech.”

He nodded before moving away, and he was right. It was about ten minutes later when Hunter started to stir, “Easy.” You kept your hand on his shoulder, keeping him from sitting up. “You took a blaster shot to the chest.”

“Is that why it feels like Wrecker sat on me?” He groaned out.

“Yeah … listen, I need to say something and I want you to really listen.”

Hunter looked into your eyes ready for whatever you had to tell him, “Okay …” he could never really tell where your thoughts would run to, this could’ve gone one of two ways, you breaking up with him or you declaring your love for him. It was one of the things he did love about you, your unpredictability. 

“I want you to know, the only one who gets to kill you, is me.”

He tried to laugh a little, his head hurting with each jostle, “Not what I was expecting.”

“I’m serious,” you giggled along with him. “I’m the only one that’s allowed to kill you, so next time, duck.” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I didn’t get shot because I wanted to.” He clarified, closing his eyes and relishing in the kiss on his forehead.

“I know. I just … Seeing you get hit, the smoke, the hole … I thought I lost you at that moment.” You pressed your forehead against his as you gently cupped his cheek.

“You didn’t. You won’t.”

“I can’t lose you, Hunter.”

“I know, love. I know.” He let out a sigh filled with tension and disappointment.

“I’m sorry for loving you the way I do.” You offered, you tried not to be a burden, but from the way he sighed you could tell, “My feelings were never supposed to be a burden for you.” You pulled back to look at him, “I’ll try to do better. I promise.”

Hunter shook his head as he cupped your cheek, “No. I love the way you love me. Makes me feel special, that I matter. My sigh wasn’t because I was upset with you, I was upset by what you’ve been through already. I don’t want you to lose anything else, either. I promise to be more careful.”

You turned your head and kissed his palm nodding as a tear slid down, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders knowing that you weren’t a burden to him. 

He patted the spot beside him, an unspoken invitation to have you lie down in the space that you had claimed since the first time you both started dating. You smiled as you adjusted yourself, resting your head on his shoulder, as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“I love you, cyar’ika”

“I know. I love you, too Hunter.”

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

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[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Home-wrecker’s son

Synopsis: Toji Fushiguro is known as a home wrecker, breaking up several relationships, marriages and family’s just for a fun time. But when he finally finds himself a pretty thing to commit too, his son shows just how much his father has taught him.

Warnings: Cheating! Smut! P in V! unprotected (please don’t do this! )! over-stimulation! mild dirty talk! age gap between reader & toji! She / Her pronouns for reader! AFAB! reader! Aged up Megumi!

A/N: based off of this post I made, i feel like we need more of this Megumi content 🤌 I also literally did not know how old Toji was, so I went looking and someone like broke it down. If Gojo is 28 now, and 12 years have gone by of Toji being ‘dead’ but the two met when Gojo was like in his sixth year, Toji is assumed to be at least 20 when they met. By the time the two fight Megumi is already born, and that puts Toji at like 30 when he dies, so add 12 years that makes him 42. I don’t know if this is actually correct or not , but for the sake of today it is. Relatively short because idk if anyone would actually be interested in this but I’ll make a part two if this does well :)

i don’t care how old Toji is he’s still fine.

Navigation

The sounds leaving you were sinful, almost like you were happy to be in this position. Toji had told you earlier that he’d be out today for a mission. What you didn’t expect was to find his son, Megumi Fushiguro, at your doorstep minutes later asking to see his father .

“You can wait inside if you’d like.” Was what you told him, letting him into your home. Truly a mistake. He had walked in and gotten comfortable quickly, trying to make small talk. You hadn’t even noticed the way his eyes lingered on you as you walked to the kitchen.

“So, how have you been?” He asks, and you smile so warmly at him. You place a pot on the stove and light a fire underneath, looking through your cabinets for some ramen for the two of you to share.

“I’ve been good. Toji’s been gone a lot recently so I’ve had a lot of time to myself.” You say, struggling to reach a packet high on the shelf. Truthfully, Megumi was sure you knew of Toji’s reputation. Sleeping with countless women and leaving strands of broken hearts in every woman he touched. Toji was, and still is, a home wrecker. But maybe it was time for Megumi to get back at him. You stand on your tippy toes, fingers stretching to reach it one last time, until you feel Megumi press into you.

“You must be lonely.” He says, caging you against the counter. You freeze, hand slowly coming down to fall onto the counter in front of you. You don’t know what to say, and he speaks again. “I’m sure that old man isn’t taking care of you.” Megumi says, and you can feel his breath against your ear. You try to ignore the shiver that runs up your spine at his words, feeling embarrassed that you’re this affected by your boyfriends son.

“He’s a busy man. It’s not his f-fault.” you say, voice wavering a bit. Even Megumi can tell you don’t mean that. He moves your hair off your shoulder, leaning down a press a kiss to your neck.

“A real man wouldn’t leave you like this.” He says, kissing upwards. “He would be here to take care of you.” He says again, kissing behind your ear. Toji had gotten with a number of girls Megumi had dated, let alone had interest in. But who knew he’d pick the girl to be so easily swayed the moment he was gone. He pulls away, leaning closer to your ear to whisper. “Let me take care of you.”

Megumi had been between your thighs for who knows how long. His tongue working on your clit while his fingers pumped through your hole, curling just the right way to have you seeing stars. He had been waiting for this for so long. Too long.

“Megumi- Megumi, gonna-!” You stuttered, back arching so prettily as he looked up at you through his lashes. He felt you clench around him, cumming over his fingers, making a mess for him. His tongue never stopped, fingers pushing as deep as they could helping you through your orgasm. He only pulled away when he saw your eyes brimming with tears, the overstimulation making everything feel a little too much.

“you’re so pretty.” He says, crawling up between your legs to kiss you. It’s passionate, and it makes you feel hot all over, head spinning. He pushes his briefs down just enough to free his cock, before pushing the tip in slowly. “Been waiting for this for so long,” He says, kissing your neck as he slides himself into you. He bottoms out with a groan, feeling you tighten around him.

“M-move, please.” You whine, trying to move your hips to feel something. He responds with a snap of his hips, tip perfectly hitting your cervix. “man must not be fucking you right.” He said, getting faster. His hands gripped your hips. Maybe this would be the convincing you needed to leave his home wrecker of a father.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Megumi had long forgotten the position you two were in. It had started out as taking a break. Round after round got tiring for you, and he wanted to give you the best aftercare possible. But that didn’t seem to stop you from making your way into his lap, riding his cock so well his head was spinning.

“So needy.” He laughs at you, watching you desperately fuck your self on him. Being alone for quite some time makes a person needy. He could see it in you.

“m’ sorry, just love this- so much-“ The words come out in short breaths, hips rolling into his. He just grins, hands finding purchase on your ass instead, grabbing fistfuls of the fat as he lets you ride him. He knows he can’t do this forever, he really shouldn’t be doing this, but he knows he isn’t gonna stop you.

“show me what that old man’s missing out on.”

[cultofdixon]

Falling for the archer

What dating / being married to Daryl Dixon would be like • Grimes’ little sister!reader / Eldest Greene sister!reader [doin’ both cuz why tf not] • ANGST/SFW/NSFW

Requested by: @witch-of-letters

Rick Grimes’ Little Sister

Dating

Let’s be real, Rick Grimes would wish he was still in a coma if he saw you—his little sister—with a man that tried to kill him for what he did to his older brother

But when you look a little deeper in that situation, he would’ve reacted the same way if someone had done that to you

But y’all weren’t together in the quarry. People assumed such by how comfortable Daryl was around you.

The man gave you an ounce of his trust in the very beginning because you didn’t treat him like an asshole [like a certain home wrecker cop…]

It grew from there and had its moments. Daryl didn’t want to act on this feeling growing inside of him until he knew that you felt the same way.

But you were also struggling with the same brewing feelings that you’ve had since the ambush on the quarry campsite. Daryl knew you had the strength to defend yourself, but the second he arrived he took out every sicko that came your way. That when it was all over, the archer quickly scanned your person to make sure you were alright

The two of you really wanted to ignore your feelings because of the whole “end of the world who would have time for this?” spiel but the universe had other plans.

2 incidents happened

Daryl drunkenly confessed his brewing feelings the night at the CDC and given that the man was drunk and you were in shock hearing that come from him, he simply wished he died right then and there thinking he must’ve scared you off. But when waking the next day to the worse hangover, he saw you sleeping on the couch across from him and a glass of water with some pain killers were placed on the table for him. He indeed didn’t scare you off but was afraid he ruined something

But the other incident was at the farm when the “walker” got shot and revealed itself to be Daryl. Rick had to pry you off Andrea when you managed to get a hold of her. Daryl heard about the incident from Glenn after he left the Greene house and went to recover in the comforts of his tent.

He had to go look for you once it was night enough to get some alone time with you.

“You’re a crazy son of a bitch for picking a fight”

“Maybe if you didn’t get hurt, didn’t get lost, and didn’t get shot by Ms. Trigger Happy—I wouldn’t have had to give her a piece of my mind”

“Why do you care so much for somebody like me?”

“Because I can! And I’m falling in love with you! I’m done ignoring my feelings…I couldn’t…I wouldn’t live with myself if you died without knowing how I felt”

Typical for the other party to confess their feelings first with Daryl Dixon. But all he needed was that confirmation before closing the space between the two of you and pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Yeah. Rick shouldn’t have been on watch that night cuz he saw y’all kissing. But given how you almost beat Andrea to a pulp, he wasn’t going to get in the way right away.

Daryl didn’t want to stop kissing you, or let you go for the matter. But he knew if you didn’t go back to your tent that night, someone would come looking for you. And he didn’t want anybody else in those moments that he just wanted it to be the two of you.

The two of you found small moments to be by yourselves and admire the other. Even when their time at the farm was getting cut short by a number of events.

Sophia…Dale…Shane…the fire

When the fire happened and everyone’s first thought was to get the hell out of there, that was when Rick knew for himself that Daryl wouldn’t do any harm given how protective the archer was when you were last to join back on the highway. He met you halfway checking every part of you before pulling you into his embrace and squeezing the life outta yea.

Guess you can say when the “indirect seal of approval” from Rick Grimes came into play, that you started dating Daryl.

Or whatever dating is in the apocalypse.

Daryl isn’t one to be flashy in the relationship and you respected that, but that didn’t stop him from at least trying.

He always wanted to be close to you in any sort of way, for the most part it was sitting next to you by the fire…on the overturn car keeping watch…in your cell…the list could go on.

Sometimes Daryl would take your hand when you’d least expect it and it brought on the butterflies. His hands made yours feel extremely small and brought on a lot of thoughts that were proven later.

The times you would be more intimate even if it was just a short kiss was when no one was around. As stated before. Daryl likes having these moments in private.

Daryl knew it could be a bit unfair, he didn’t want anyone else in your bubble and he especially didn’t like the way those who didn’t know about the two of you—look at you like your fair game. Really only the farm group knows.

But he will say he was amused by how you handled those situations.

“Hey good looking wanna—-“

“Nope. Go away” Y/N got up from the tables in the prison trying to physically leave and when the man cornered her. Daryl was about to to take care of this guy and reveal to everybody about the two, but suddenly the man met the concrete floor after Y/N grabbed the book she was reading off the table and using it as a weapon.

“Crazy bi—-“ he was cut off by her dropping her book on his face and walking away.

That lead to Daryl wanting to take a leap of faith one day.

“Y/N”

“Oh hey D. I just finished getting the truck ready for the run with Sasha later. Did yea—“

Daryl cut her off by pressing his lips against hers feeling her arms instinctively wrap around his neck.

To the Woodbury folk, it came as a shock. Meanwhile, Carol got Glenn’s oatmeal packets for the bet they made about how long it would take for them to be out and open about it.

Since then he’s been a bit more open to public affection.

He’s still not the biggest about it being public but he secretly likes it. Especially when he hears you talk about how great of a man he is to Maggie. Even if part of him doesn’t believe it.

It still takes what feels like forever to get Daryl to believe the words you say to him. He gets the warm feeling in his chest during the moment and you can tell when he starts to feel his insecurities get the best of him.

Which brings into discussion—his scars

He never wanted you to see them and you never pry.

There was a moment in Alexandria where you walked in on him changing and he felt his whole body tense when the door opened. But he instantly relaxed when he heard you say that you were turning around. He didn’t even get his shirt on when he approached you and wanting to get closer to you by letting you see what he’s most ashamed of.

That leap, lead to more. You’ve always felt loved with Daryl even when he doesn’t say it often, and with that moment of him showing his scars…his anxieties about losing you to someone better has washed away.

Now to be a bit more chaotic…

Daryl respected your boundaries and went at your speed when it came to sex. But according to you, he has a look that would get yea going and there was one time he unintentionally did said look when you were talking to your older brother

“Y/N yea listening?” Rick waves his hand in front of your face as you were focused on Daryl looking your direction.

Daryl was waiting to go on a run with you and didn’t know that he was giving you that “look” when you were trying to take down what Rick needed.

“Y/N!” Rick yells only for his sister to sock him in the gut in response.

“I heard you! Now I gotta take fucking care of something before we go” You state before approaching Daryl and grabbing him by the arm heading back inside to take care of “business”.

[A/N: I used pronouns and then didn’t use pronouns in this,,,so my bad]

“The look” is really just taking up any opportunity. Not that Daryl’s complaining.

But there was one morning when you woke before Daryl could leave the bedroom first because Rick knows y’all are dating but doesn’t know y’all share a bedroom…

Bc you didn’t in the prison to respect Daryl’s feelings about feeling confined in a cell

You entered the living room without checking if Daryl left your bed or not and was about to get some water when Rick asked what you were doing last night.

Then cue Daryl coming down thinking Rick wouldn’t be in there and being met with the man’s attention.

“That’s what you were doin’ last night”

“…Yes”

“Yknow four people live in this place right”

“Yes”

“Y/N—-“

“Does Carl know about you and Michonne?”

“Okay. I’m just gonna ignore this so you don’t use that against me”

Engaged to Married

Daryl’s thing when going on runs is finding trinkets or anything that’ll make you smile. That was the one thing you’ve kept with you since the fall of the prison to after the wolves attack.

Daryl found you placing the things he found you on the shelves in your shared room because they bring you joy.

That one day, you went into your room after a long day and saw a small box. Being confused by the new item, you picked it up and opened it.

Only for all of Alexandria to hear you scream off the top of your lungs. If Daryl didn’t inform some…yeah people would think someone broke in again

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

Daryl stood at the gazebo watching Y/N approach him with the ring box in hand.

“Why didn’t you do this the right way?!”

“Uhm. Because…” Daryl took the box and instantly got down on one knee to open it presenting it to Y/N. “I planned this out…and I’m asking you now. Will yea marry me?”

“Yes! I will always say yes!”

Daryl didn’t have to ask for Rick’s blessing, because the two went on a run together when the archer found the ring and was like “You should propose with that, when yea ready”

As much as the group literally had a pastor—-the two of you wanted Rick to officiate and you kept it intimate. With only the group you first came to Alexandria with. And Aaron and Eric. The only Alexandrians Daryl trusted so far.

Being married, honestly didn’t feel very different to Daryl. Except that you two now have a place for yourselves and he really didn’t have to worry about any other guy looking your direction.

Besides. The man likes to leave marks in obvious places. Even slightly before y’all got married, no one even tried because you were marked and Daryl scared most of the men.

Waking up next to you in your own place was the best. Daryl didn’t have to get up right away and not alone for the matter. He’d roll over if he wasn’t already facing you and bring you close that you tiredly wrap yourself around him. The morning sex is a bonus too

You would always take his sweatshirts which were his least worn shirt until much later. He loved seeing you in his shirts but more specifically when he’d come home to you wearing only his shirt.

The two of you gained a routine where either of you would always throw up “I love you” in sign language whenever he went on runs or you would see him during your break from the infirmary. Daryl signed such to you when he was being whisked away by the Saviors and that was the only time it broke you.

Even when all the bad happened and you reunited, the promise Daryl made the day you were married…you made again when he latched onto you the second you walked through Hilltop’s doors.

I will always be by your side until the end, even if someone or something gets in the way. I will always find my way back to you.

The Eldest Greene Sister

Dating

Hershel wasn’t the only one to not like the new comers. But you were more open to bringing people in than he was.

“You don’t know what they’ll do”

“I know for a fact that they wanted to save their kid. What happens next? We’ll approach it with an open mind, old man”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Please”

“Sorry dad”

You and your sister Maggie were the only open minded ones when it came to the two officers and an injured child, multiplying into a whole group.

And Maggie wasn’t the only one that gained an interest in someone in their group.

But you were more risky with the whole “take on the biggest man in the room” in a literal and non-literal sense.

Daryl noticed how relaxed you were when things got heated with the group vs the Greene family. But also noticed a part of you didn’t really care for what your family argued. Guess you were also the black sheep in your family.

The first time the two of you ever talked was about trying to find Sophia. The group wanting to rest up while the archer wanted to go back out there and given the few protests. You figured you’d help the guy without any of them knowing.

Little did you know that he’d take your stubborn bitch of a horse.

The group that came knew Daryl had left to look for Sophia but the Greene family didn’t know that you went out after him. Because again, your horse is easily startled. Finding Daryl wasn’t the hardest thing in the world because these were your woods, your solitude even in this new hell. You ignored your horse completely when you realized that its rider is no longer on him or in the surrounding area.

Daryl thought he was hallucinating when you found him. Given he’s been seeing Merle. You were instantly stressed out given the arrow in his side and didn’t even think about bringing any form of first aid.

“Are you an Angel?”

Y/N laughs to the question as she pressed down on the bleeding wound making him grip onto her arm. “Far from it, honey”

That pet name stuck.

As you were helping Daryl walk back to the farm after several moments of him talking to the blood loss. You heard the yelling and thought nothing of it but when a few of the men from his group came running toward the two. It clicked that he must’ve been labeled as a Walker by their lookout. As the group got closer and it was revealed to them who it was…your anxiety got the best of you shoving Daryl quickly to the ground and that’s when the shot rang through.

Daryl groans from impact and heard the thud beside him seeing the eldest Greene sister through blurred vision gripping her arm.

Who woulda thought almost dying is what brought y’all together

I’m kidding.

But it did show to Daryl that you weren’t a threat of any kind. Even if you did prove that to him a few times already.

The two of you grew close when it was revealed that Sophia was one of the walkers in the barn. He didn’t think he had to hear what you had to say…let alone be vulnerable

“Why do yea care?”

“Are you serious?”

“Look sunshine—I don’t need to fucking hear some “it happens for a reason” bullshit out your ranch hand mouth just le—-“

“Nah. You listen here, sugar.” Y/N shoved Daryl back knowing damn well he was still recovering. Hell so was she. “A fuckton of my family was in there and I didn’t know what my bitch of an old man was doing until the rest of y’all knew. I’ve lost enough of people to know that shit happens at random. But as long as I knew…it wouldn’t eat me alive for the rest of my life. I hated not knowing what happened but sometimes that just happens too…isn’t it better to know that this happened instead of beating yourself up for not findin’ her?”

“…She wasn’t even mine”

“Doesn’t mean it don’t hurt yea too”

Something about what you said, glued him to your side and you weren’t complaining. Because who woulda thought at the end of the world you found someone that understands yea. Even if some of the things you say, worries the guy.

You’re an honest person and everyone appreciates that. Daryl especially.

But sometimes your honesty sparks unwanted anxiety and made few turn a bit resentful even if you were also the one that would do anything and everything to provide for the group.

Even before y’all became official, Daryl found himself silently checking up on you and one night at the prison before the infusion of new people…You sat beside him outside the prison leaning against him and letting him keep you close.

The prison era is when y’all confessed. Or more so Daryl did…and you returned once you “returned”

The medicine got to their people in time before anymore could go through death’s door. But as the others woke up, you still laid unconscious. Daryl never left your side the second the medicine got in and his anxiety got the best of him when your breathing would stop for strange periods that made him think he’d have to do CPR.

“You can’t leave me…you can’t. I won’t forgive yea” Daryl frowns bringing your unconscious form into his arms bringing her close. “How could yea. How could yea come into my life and made me feel a certain way that I have never felt—just for you to leave me. This isn’t better. Waiting isn’t great. I need to know if yea with me til the end or not…”

“Mm…ain’t gettin rid of me, honey”

Hershel was about to check on you when he heard sobbing. He thought you died and your old man held a lot of regret for how he treated you but when he saw Daryl holding you in his embrace sobbing even harder when you held onto him.

It always takes stressful situations to bring few together.

You were official in that moment but neither you or Daryl did more than hold hands until Carol needed a favor in getting your archer to take a shower.

“D, you busy?”

“Yea gonna force me to be nice to people too?”

“Nah. I don’t trust it here that much either. But the house is empty”

Daryl looks at you confused but quick to notice you were only wearing a robe.

“And what are yea planning with an empty house?”

“Fuck if I know…but no one would be around to hear me screaming your name in the shower…” You smirk heading back inside as Daryl sat there for a second longer before leaving his crossbow and following after you.

Daryl wasn’t the only one to bear scars from his past. You knew about his before you saw them as did he. The two of you would talk a lot at night just watching the stars from the prison so you knew what his father did and he knew what yours did…but also yourself.

He didn’t hold back with worshiping your body and making you feel loved every second of every day since that moment.

Married

Alexandria made the two you feel safe in a slow manner but you had each other and that’s what is important.

Neither of you wanted anything fancy or really a ceremony. You two just. Found some rings and went from there. He loves calling you his wife whenever he got the chance to do so.

Maggie was mad that you gave her a wedding and you didn’t let her give you one.

Being married was being more intimate. Your dating phase was more so becoming even closer with the other.

Marriage didn’t feel different. Except for the fact that you two were given a place of your own and y’all decided to christen every room in the place.

You were more of a jealous person when the two of you became husband and wife compared to girlfriend and boyfriend. People were once afraid of Daryl. Now he’s a provider and some of the ladies would stare at the man. But little did he know that he had an attack dog.

It was hot how jealous you can get but not when you start threatening to hit people.

Your jealousy level is about the same equivalence to Daryl’s over protectiveness. Man needs to know where you’re at when you’re not right beside him. And tying the knot did have y’all doing a lot of shut together. But sometimes Daryl would find himself panicking when he hasn’t found you within the first hour of returning home after a run.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothin’”

“…If you want to join me in the shower you could just do so instead of sitting on the bathroom sink waiting for me to finish”

________

Author’s note:

Me: *writing this*

Internet history: *eight closed tabs about different definitions for the word “Headcanon”*

This is my first one…like. Ever. I hope I did it justice

[jordannnggg]

I had the world’s shittiest narcissistic skater boyfriend who was 2 years older than me from 18-23. He treated me so badly, but he was the first person who ever looked at me like I had some form of worth in this world. The emotional abuse started about six months in. He’d break up with me and then call me a few days later in the middle of the night because he “needed” me. I lost 40 pounds I didn’t have to lose because he’d “never been with a girl as big with me”. I went from 130 to 90 at 19 years old. I dyed my hair because he told me he preferred brunettes. He broke up with me when I got my first big tattoo because he didn’t know if he could be with a girl who had big tattoos (he’s now covered head to toe including the side of his head and hands). He told me that if I got pregnant he’d leave the country, but at the same time told me that if I died he’d go out into the forest to fight a bear until it killed him because he couldn’t live without me. He told me we’d get married when we were older and I stayed and I fought and I loved him unconditionally because I thought that’s what love was. I thought my parents had given up too easily when they got divorced. I didn’t want to be like that.

Over the years during our breakups and makeups, I tried to see other guys but it never worked out. I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was anymore or what I liked or what to do outside of the stress of wondering when he would pop up or if he was alright after he called me a few nights before saying he thought he was ODing and then ghosting me after I stayed with him through the night.

Something changed me in 2013. My little sister had been a directioner from the start and I’d been trapped inside this bubble of abuse and depression and hopelessness and just sadness. She made me watch the Best Song Ever video and for the first time I understood what she’d already known for years. We went to go see This Is Us and I fell in love. Particularly with Liam. Liam was the kind of boy I needed to be with. He was sunshine and laughter and talent and bravery and ambition. I fell when he confessed that he was scared he’d never find someone who really loved him for him. It will forever break my heart.

In 2014 I was at a graduation party for my friends at their College. They left to go out to the bars but I hung back with a few others to not spend money and play card games. My boyfriend and I were back together at this point and were talking about getting an apartment together and I was happy because he was finally committing to me in the way I was committed to him. One of the guys at the party and I had flirted and hooked up before, but he was also back in a relationship, so I didn’t think anything of it. I called my boyfriend and he told me to be careful. I woke up the next morning with no idea where I was and half naked. The guy was telling me I needed to go because his mom was taking him to breakfast. I was confused and couldn’t remember anything past playing King’s Cup the night prior.

When I made it back to my friends, they were livid. They accused me of being a home-wrecker, a slut, etc because he had a girlfriend. (No one cared about my boyfriend because they all hated him which was fair). I tried to defend myself but they wouldn’t hear it, so I went home absolutely filled with dread because I didn’t understand what had happened or what I’d done but I knew I had to tell my boyfriend. The friend I’d rode up with tried to be supportive by saying that I’d just made a mistake but I couldn’t help but feel like I hadn’t done anything wrong (I hadn’t). She said I didn’t have to tell my boyfriend but I’m not that kind of person. I felt dirty which I confused with guilt. I was ashamed but also defensive of myself because I felt like I hadn’t done anything wrong despite the evidence against me.

I told him and he was understanding, not because he realized what had happened to me, but because “we’d both fucked up and it would be hypocritical of him to not give me another chance”. That made me mad, I’d never done anything to hurt him-except for this, whatever that was exactly. I swallowed it down and kept quiet because I wanted to move on with him. Something wouldn’t let me, I woke up crying in the middle of the night. That made him angry and he called me a slut and told me to get out of his house if I couldn’t get over what had happened. Itd been 2 days at this point.

We got back together that night. I tried to get over my “mistake” but something wouldn’t let me. I cried whenever he wasn’t around. I felt sick to my stomach. I wasn’t talking to my friends because they were on a cross-country trip with that guy. I was alone and exhausted and broken. I went to my mom’s work and sat outside in the parking lot and sobbed hysterically until she came outside to help me. She told me I should just end things because “we’d hurt each other too much” and again I was defensive, I’d never intentionally hurt him but I felt like I’d betrayed him somehow and my shame allowed me to end things. He told me to kill myself and that I’d ruined his life. I wish I could say that that was the end of it but it never ends with narcissists like him.

But I was finally free for the first time in 5 years. I’d lost everything except for my family and my sister and my favorite bands. I deep dived into 1D with my sister, she would be leaving for university that fall and our last hurrah was a trip to LA to see One Direction at the Rose Bowl for 2 nights. By September I was in love with all five boys, but with soft spots for Harry and Zayn, and a full blown crush on Liam.

I can honestly say that those boys and their enthusiasm for life and their music kept me from going too far into the darkness. I was depressed, but then I’d watch This Is Us, I’d hate myself until I listened to Through the Dark. I wanted a love like Happily felt when I listened to it. I watched every music video, learned all the lore, and when I was with the boys I didn’t think about the very traumatic toxic relationship I was in for 5 years. When I was listening to them my life was like Up All Night and Live While We’re Young, and Midnight Memories, full of youth and joy.

I had five boyfriends who didn’t care what I looked like or how much I weighed and it honestly got me healthy again. My hair grew out long and full and not dyed for the first time in years. My skin was clear, I was eating again and healthier, I went to the gym. I had a job, made new friends, and had plans to move in with my best friend in another city the next year. And when we saw them in concert on 9/12/14 & 9/13/14 it just cemented what I already knew. I loved them.

In the almost ten years since One Direction I have been changed completely. I was 23 in 2014, I’m now 33. I moved away from my hometown, made the greatest friends I’ve ever known, lived like the Midnight Memories/Up All Night/LWWY music videos and fell in love again (with my best guy friend and that didn’t work out either). I lived my life and healed from the broken person I’d been. I was my own person with my own personality. I made these friends on my own, I worked up in my job on my own, I lived on my own. I saw my ex every once in a while when I went home to see my family but mostly it was more of laugh than painful.

And then my best guy friend moved away. I went back to school and had to leave my friends. A close friend of ours died in almost the same way Liam did about five years and 357 days before he would. My friend died about 4 months after I stopped his first suicide attempt that left me with severe PTSD. Liam’s death hit me like a punch to the gut. They fell from the same height, I didn’t know if Liam committed suicide but I was instantly taken back to the moment I’d found out that my friend had passed. I spent two years barely sober when my friend died, I put myself in bad situations, I didn’t want to exist anymore, I felt like the biggest failure on the planet.

The third year was the beginning of the pandemic. I never stopped when my friend died, I took a week off of work, a semester off of school and kept going. I never dealt with my feelings, I numbed them down until I felt nothing. So when the pandemic hit and I had to sit with everything that had happened and everything I’d done, I felt it. I started working out again, swam in my parent’s pool, got tan and started to forgive myself. It showed in my life, I graduated with my AA, got a bigger job and moved out again. I was happier and healthier for the first time in 3 years.

I’m ashamed to have forgotten how much those boys meant to me when I “grew up”. I’ve seen Harry a few times, and I kept the other four in my peripherals but out of sight out of mind. They all seemed happy and doing their own thing, like me, they weren’t my boyfriends anymore. Liam always had a girlfriend so I had no chance in hell, I went back to my parasocial crushes I had better odds with (delusional).

It took 1 second and the words Liam Payne died to send me back to 2013/2014 & 2018, arguably the worst years of my life. I spiraled instantly. I got about 8 tattoos in a week because I wanted to feel something painful other than the devastation in my chest. I begged my angels to take the pain away because I couldn’t do it again. I almost didn’t survive the first time. I couldn’t live with the fact that both Liam and my friend died alone. I went back to feeling like the biggest failure in the world, two people I loved died “on my watch”. Love alone wasn’t enough to save either of them.

It’s been a month and I am still devastated. I’m back in therapy and still on my meds, so the spiral didn’t last too long or get worse than sobbing for a week straight because I lost someone I’d loved dearly and had saved me from myself and healed my broken heart. I’ve been sober for almost a year, so that helped a lot and I’ve been working out again with a trainer since the beginning of this year, so I’m in a good place with my health. I’m almost done with my BA and I’m getting my teaching credential next year.

All that to say, Liam James Payne, I’ll love you forever and I’m infinitely grateful for the influence, experiences and happiness you brought to my life when I needed it most. I will probably miss you for the rest of my life, but I’ll help look after the boys and live with the same kind, thoughtful and loving spirit that you possessed.

I know it’s not the end, I’ll see your face again.

All my love, J.

[lifblogs]

Alive

@summer-of-bad-batch Week 12 Alt. Prompt: Radio Silence Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 2025 Summary: After Eriadu, Echo leaves messages on Tech's comm channel, feeling like he's talking to his brother again. READ ON AO3

“Hey… Tech,” Echo said into the comm. “It’s been a few rotations since… well, you know.”

He looked around, suddenly feeling ridiculous now that his voice was coming out of him. Night had swiftly fallen, and the lights of the landing pad he currently sat on, legs dangling over the side, were all that lit it. A ship was there—one of Rex’s ships.

Echo… missed the Marauder, but he knew he could help more from here. And… after so much loss, he couldn’t… well, he couldn’t handle it at all. It was like his foundation he’d built with his new family had been ripped right out from under him, and he couldn’t stay, not without anything to stand on.

Hunter’s face had been carved with pained, but he had said he knew Echo had to do this, and also mentioned he could do more work to search for Omega, for Tantiss, than he could if they stayed together.

Wrecker had hugged him so tightly he had worried an implant was going to embed deeper into him, or the controls on his legs would shatter.

Wrecker wasn’t angry, like Hunter was to some degree. He was sad. They all were.

It was more than that though.

The massive hole in Echo’s chest that he’d worked on filling and healing with his family, now made it so any reminders of them was too much. Hunter was too much. Wrecker was too much. Because around them it was easy to see who wasn’t there.

With Rex and Howzer and the boys, there was none of that, really. Though, every time he looked at Rex he thought of Fives.

No Fives.

Now no Tech, and no… no Omega.

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you,” he went on, “but… Omega was taken. By—by Hemlock. I know that’s not what you want to hear, maybe I shouldn’t even be telling you since we failed to find Tantiss, and save Crosshair, but…

“I don’t know what to do, Tech,” he went on, voice rough, tight. Tears welled in his eyes, and he let them, let his world blur around him.

“I feel so lost,” he admitted. “I… I remember when I first saw you. You were the first person I’d seen since… Anyway, I was scared. I was, but when I saw you, seeing you knew exactly what you were doing to save me, I wasn’t scared anymore. I didn’t even know you yet, and I trusted you. You were so human, so real. It was like… It was like…” Echo found himself at a loss for words, not sure how to describe what it had felt to see a human again, to see someone saving him, not torturing him, not using him, but saving him.

“Well, imagine being afraid, more afraid than you’ve ever been, and then seeing human eyes, eyes you almost recognize. I felt… home. You did that for me, Tech. And when you unhooked me, when you carried me… I decided if I ever got through that—and of course I did because I had you—that I would carry you too.

“Maybe not in a real sense—unless it was needed—but in a sense that I’d be there for you.”

Tears fell, throat so tight he barely got his next words out: “That I’d save you.”

Silence seemed to swallow him, even amongst the night noises of the creatures in the jungle.

“And I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

Echo switched off the comm, and placed it against his forehead, hunching in on himself, sobbing.

He didn’t know how long he was out there—maybe hours—but that was how Rex found him.

He didn’t say anything, just put a hand on his shoulder, and it was enough.

“Hey, Tech,” Echo said from the cockpit of one of Rex’s ships. He wasn’t exactly flying it given the one hand situation, but he was keeping an eye on things while everyone else rested. The comm chanel was still live, but as usual there was nothing on the other end. Radio silence. Still— “Sorry it’s bee awhile,” he said. “Been pretty busy, looking for Tantiss, for Omega. I miss her.”

He sighed. “I miss you. I wish you could come home to us, you know? I knew what Plan Ninety-Nine was. Hunter had briefed me on it, but I never thought…”

His words cut off, a million thoughts clouding the space in his head. There was a fierce ache in his chest, and fear, betrayal, greater than he’d ever known, was trying to rip him apart.

He was a traitor to his friend, his family, because…

“Sometimes I hate you for it,” he finally got out, words tight, crawling out of the barbed wire in his chest, the electric frisson that had tried to keep it locked in tight.

And now that the words had been said, they hurt.

Echo nearly choked on a gasp, and he put his hand to his chest, curled in a fist. He hunched in over it, shaking, tears falling freely down his face, sobs catching in his chest, a pained growl leaving him.

“You left us,” he said. “You left us. What are we supposed to do with that? You made sure we didn’t all die, but… you didn’t put yourself into those calculations. You died. Did you even care? Did you think you mattered, or was it just us? We cared about you too, you know! We cared about— We still do.

“Omega got hurt,” he went on. “We all did. And then… well, without you… Hemlock took her. I know—I know I already told you that, but you weren’t there. You weren’t there, Tech! What am I supposed to do now? You were the first person I saw. The first person! And now…”

Echo sighed. “Whatever.” He switched off the comm.

“Tech, you’re never gonna believe this,” Echo said, grinning wide, the hole in his chest smaller for once, filled in with brilliant light. He was tweaking the energy crossbow he was planning on giving to Omega as soon as he saw her. “Omega’s back. She escaped, and guess who was with her? Crosshair. I know! She really did it. She saved herself. She saved him.

“I haven’t seen her yet, but Hunter did warn me she looks a bit older. I know that when I do see her I’ll think about the time I missed with her, and I know it’ll hurt, but it’s okay because she’s back. She’s safe now.

“Crosshair’s safe now,” he added. “Heard he’s as thorny as ever.” Echo grinned thinking of it, and thinking of Crosshair’s grudging acceptance of Echo which had turned into a bond with trust, that trust stronger with all the hard edges. “But she did it, Tech. She finished your mission! I know there’s still the Empire, that Tantiss is still out there, and Hemlock is, but I just thought I’d let you know. For once in almost six months, I’m finally happy. And I think… I think you would be too.”

Echo couldn’t sleep, as usual, and he was lying around in his rack, Gregor snoring beneath him.

With a deep sigh, he pulled out his comlink, dialing it to the frequency that never responded, and never would again.

“Hi, Tech. It’s me. Echo.” His words seemed too loud, and he rolled out of his rack, landing neatly on the deck.

He made his way over to the lounge that was on this massive ship, and sat back in the booth by the table. Only the ship’s hum met him now, the lights dim.

“I don’t know why I’m still doing this,” he admitted. “I know you’re… you’re gone. But I have so much to tell you, so much to say. It’s still weird not having you here. I always turn around thinking I’ll see you, I find my eyes searching every room I enter, and sometimes when I haven’t slept for days I imagine I see you out of the corner of my eye, coming to tell me some crazy fact. And I’d listen. Oh, I’d listen. What I wouldn’t give to have you telling me about some animal or language right about now. You could tell me about the history of the comlink and I’d listen. I’d listen to you talk about the galaxy, about other life-forms, about what you ate for breakfast. About everything.”

Echo had to pause, all choked up.

He didn’t know why he kept doing this to himself, kept tearing at his open wound instead of letting it heal.

But if it healed would he forget? Would he forget all the wonders that had made Tech such an amazing life-form? Would he forget his smile, his startled laugh when he actually found a joke funny, the sound of his voice, the way he spoke, his eyes? Would he forget it all?

Echo knew that wasn’t quite how it worked, and yet he kept doing this, kept letting himself bleed.

He had half a mind to let himself bleed until the Empire was nothing but dust.

“I’m sorry.”

He switched the comm off, and let the silence invade all the dark spaces in his mind, let it play with the nightmares.

Echo leaned back, looking up at the deck above him, not taking in any of the details, not even the color.

Everything was drab, and gray, and dark. Cold, and silent. So cold, like when he had been nothing but a tool for the Separatists.

Echo didn’t welcome it, but it was there. Without Tech, it crept in every day, and maybe would until Echo was gone too.

“I’m sorry to tell you this,” Echo said, “but the Empire found Pabu. I wasn’t there. I’m actually on my way to pick up the others now, but I thought you should know. Phee is safe. But Omega—she gave herself up to save everyone.

“I’d be proud if… if it didn’t hurt so much. I know you’d be proud. In a way, I think she learned it from you—sacrifice. You meant so much to her, to me, to everyone. So I thought I’d let you know, we’re heading to Tantiss. We’re destroying that place, and we will not stop until Omega is free, until the clones are free. I just wish you could stand by my side after we win.

“Hell, sorry for all the bravado. I’m… scared. I could always tell you when I was afraid. I think sometimes you’d find it silly, but then you’d realize it wasn’t silly to me, that it was real. And talking to you about it—it was like you unhooking me from that machine all over again, saving me.

“I’d save you if I could. I would have. But now all I can do is save her.”

Echo swallowed hard, looking out at the blue-white of hyperspace streaking past.

“Tech… thank you.”

Echo switched the comm off, telling himself this was the last time. If he could save Omega—and he would—he’d let his wound heal. Maybe finally it could heal.

Echo had abandoned his armor, his comm, feeling like he was losing part of himself for this, giving himself up to save Omega, so he never got the message that came through as he landed at Tantiss. He would know, would learn who this was, would even have help from him as he turned on the other CXs, but he never heard the high, frightened voice that said, “Echo, it’s me. It’s Tech. I don’t know how, but… I’m alive.”

And with the Marauder in ruins, no one else in Clone Force 99 heard that voice. If they had Crosshair wouldn’t have been so afraid, wouldn’t have thought Clone Force 99 had died, after all; Wrecker wouldn’t have lied, wouldn’t have pushed himself too hard; Hunter wouldn’t have been ready to give up all he was for his little girl, would have known he wasn’t alone. They would have been a family in that tense moment in the jungle, and would have known that Clone Force 99 was very. Much. Alive.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Hello!! Congrats on your 350 followers! I'm sure that number will just keep growing the more people read your fics! I'm so excited about your event.

You've written some of my favorite Hunter fics, so I'm going to stick with him.

Companion: Hunter

Luggage: Fluff and maybe Family? I wasn't really sure what the family would entail, but with Hunter maybe it could be something with Omega?

Destination: Hoth (I like the idea of the freedom and new beginnings, like maybe after everything is over and everyone is happy he can start fresh being a dad, not a soldier) and/or Pabu (relaxation and peace.)

Extra: If a female character could be included, that would be awesome also...maybe the fluff part...someone he could end up with that would be a great mom for Omega.

I'm not sure if that's possible, so take what you can use out of that and add in anything you need (just so it's Hunter and is a happy ending I will be excited!)

Thanks!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Thank you for booking with Soaring's Tours. We're now ready to board your flight. Please mind the gap between the transport and the platform. We wish you a pleasant journey!

A Place Called Home

Determined to leave the fighting and running behind now that your little family are all together again, you settle into your new home in Upper Pabu.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: spoilers for S3, clowning that CX-2 is Tech, fluff, sweetness, domestic goodness, happy family times, all the kisses, reader treats Omega like a daughter, flirting, quirofilia (a thing for hands), very small reference to knife play, sprinkle of innuendos, implied night together.

“I’m thinking forest green on this wall and leaving the other three as they are.” You muse, glancing around the room at the four white walls.

Between the credits Omega and Crosshair acquired during their escape from Tantiss and the credits you procured after tying up some loose ends on Ord Mantell, you all could afford a beautiful home in Upper Pabu. 

The boys and Omega had been excited to finally have a house – to have their own rooms. With your little family reunited and Tech’s memories starting to return, you’d put your foot down. There would be no more fighting, no more running. Echo had opted to stay with Rex and take care of Tantiss, and you’d received news last night that they’d successfully freed all of the clones being held captive and razed the place to the ground.

Wrecker was sad to miss the explosions. Echo sent him a holovid of them as an apology. 

“Whatever you’d like, cyar’ika,” Hunter answers, setting down the last box of furniture in the centre of the room. It had taken a few trips to bring all the newly purchased items back to Pabu, every bit of space in the Marauder utilised, and you couldn’t wait to set everything up.

Turning, you offer Hunter a soft smile as he approaches. A light breeze wisps through the room, the doors to the balcony overlooking the ocean thrown open. The early morning sun was already warming everything up and casting a golden glow across the tranquil island. 

“You get a say too, my heart.” You remind him.

Hunter draws you closer, wrapping his arms around you as you lean against his chest. Without his armour, he can feel the warmth of your body against his own through the thin layers of civilian clothing you’ve picked out for him - a new wardrobe for a new chapter of life. “I’m not bothered what colour you paint the walls, just so long as you’re happy.”

Pulling back from the embrace, you look up at the man you adore and reach for the small comms unit in your pocket. “Cross…” You speak as you flick it on. 

The line crackles to life a moment later. “Yes?” The familiar drawl comes through.

“Can you please pick up some forest green paint, too?” You ask sweetly, and you can almost picture the sniper’s eye roll in the following silence. He’d headed out a short while ago with a list of items to buy from the island’s stores, Omega and Batcher in tow. The lurca hound’s strength was being used, pulling a small cart for purchases.

“Anything else?” Crosshair questions.

Thinking for a moment, there was nothing else you wanted to add to the shopping list. But you did have a little surprise for them. “I slid some extra credits into the pouch. Make sure the three of you stop off somewhere nice and get some breakfast. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“Goody.” Crosshair deadpans.

Chuckling softly, you shake your head. “I mean it, Cross. No skipping meals.” You’d been trying your hardest to help him regain some of the weight he’d lost on Tantiss.

“Understood.” He replies, his tone more serious now. “We’ll grab something decent.”

“Great. We’ll see you soon.” You end the call and slip the comms unit back into your pocket.

“Spoiling them again, are we?” Hunter teases, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Playfully swatting at his arm, you offer him a grin. “Hey, they’ve been through a lot. They deserve nice things. You all do.”

“Fair point,” Hunter concedes, knowing that everything you do for him and his siblings is out of love and care. It was ingrained in your nature, and it’s part of why he’s been so drawn to you since you first met.

You smile up at him, feeling a rush of happiness and contentment wash over you. It still amazes you how far you’ve all come since the early days of the war. Back then, you never would have imagined ending up in this peaceful little corner of the galaxy, surrounded by people who care about you. “Come on, this furniture isn’t going to build itself.” You hate to break the moment, but you hadn’t been lying – it would be a long day to get the house ready to live in.

As you and Hunter assemble the furniture, the playful banter continues. Tools clink softly as you work, and occasionally, one of you laughs over a particularly amusing remark.

“You know, for a tough, stoic soldier, you’re surprisingly good at putting together furniture.” You tease, watching as Hunter carefully screws in a bolt.

He smirks, glancing at you. “I think you’ll find I’m a man of many talents.”

“And don’t I know it.” You murmur, handing him another piece of the dresser he’s assembling as your eyes rake over the length of his body before settling back on his deft hands.

Hunter can feel the weight of your gaze on him, smirk still firmly in place as he basks in your admiration. “Cyar’ika, you’re getting distracted.” He points out, voice low as his gaze flits across to you, nostrils flaring as he breathes in your scent.

“Can you blame me?” You ask, reaching out to slowly drag your fingers down his forearm towards his strong hands, enjoying the unrestricted access now he’s packed away his armour.

Hunter watches as you touch him, enjoying the warmth of the action. You’ve always been more physically affectionate - lingering hands and gentle caresses. It had taken some getting used to for his senses not to freak out at the contact. “I’m not even holding my vibroknife.” He teases.

“And now I’m thinking about that. Thanks.” You sigh, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as your hand curls around his wrist.

Your joint laughter echoes around the room, and Hunter can’t help but lean towards you, stealing another kiss. Everything with you had felt so easy since the very first day. “Later. At least let me build the bed first.” He chides playfully, but a glint of desire shines in his eyes. 

You concede with a nod, earning a smile from him before you let go of his wrist. You focus on building the furniture, even though desire still pools in your belly. Each completed piece is placed in the middle of the room, and old tarps from the Marauder are thrown over it to protect it from potential paint splatters. 

As you work, footsteps climbing the stairs interrupt your progress. Glancing towards the door, you see Crosshair and Omega with paint cans, while Batcher has a bag hanging from her mouth full of brushes and rollers.

“We’re back!” Omega announces cheerfully, setting down the paint cans she’d been carrying.

Crosshair follows behind her with a hint of amusement as he observes Omega’s exuberance. “Got everything on the list,” he states, holding several other cans.

You smile warmly at them both, grateful for their efforts. “Thank you, both of you,” you say sincerely, moving to inspect the cans of paint - the perfect amount for the room. Reaching for Batcher, you pry a few brushes and rollers from the bag in her mouth, giving her a gentle pet of thanks afterwards.

“What colours did you pick?” You ask, handing one of the cans to Hunter as he finishes laying down some tarps to protect the floor.

“Purple.” Omega answers, pointing to one of the cans Crosshair was holding.  

“Grey.” Crosshair chips in. “Yellow for Wrecker. Orange for Tech.” He adds, lifting some of the other cans. 

Omega grins, patting her thigh, which prompts Batcher to return to her side, the hound sitting next to her. “We’re all doing feature walls,” she explains happily.

“Trendsetter.” Hunter nudges you, grinning. 

You chuckle, enjoying Omega’s lightness and enthusiasm - after everything that had happened to her, she deserved to be a kid and enjoy the innocence that came with it. “Alright, the sooner we start, the sooner we can get the furniture in place and spend the night here.”

With that, the room fills with activity. Crosshair excuses himself to deliver the other paint cans and start making progress in his own room, whistling for Batcher to follow. The lurca hound is more than happy to trail after her favourite human.

As the door swings shut behind the sniper, Hunter pries open a can of green paint, pouring some into three trays and placing a brush with each. He hands one to Omega, the other to you, and he keeps the third one. 

As you all begin to paint, Omega takes the lead, happily painting broad strokes of green onto the wall, only able to reach halfway up it. You focus on the edges, painting neat lines, while Hunter fills in the top section that Omega can’t reach. 

Continuing to work, it isn’t long until you and Omega are side by side. Feeling cheeky, you swipe a finger through the paint on the end of your brush, calling the young girl’s name to catch her attention. As she turns to look at you, you strike, smearing a streak of green across her cheek. 

Omega gasps in surprise, her eyes wide as she stares at you in disbelief. Then, a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Oh, it’s on now!” She declares, dipping her finger into the paint and flicking it at you with a giggle.

Your laughter melds with hers as the paint splatters your bare arm, and Hunter watches the exchange with amusement, shaking his head fondly at the playfulness between the two of you. He appreciates how you always try to give Omega a childhood, even when you all fled the Empire and worked jobs for Cid. The way you doted on her warmed his heart. “Alright, let’s keep it civil, you two.” He interjects, holding up a hand in a gesture of peace, as if this were a serious fight, though the smile on his lips gives the game away.

You and Omega exchange grins, and before Hunter has time to stop it, you both smear green paint across his face, covering the bridge of his nose and his tattooed cheek. 

“Oops.” You mutter in faux innocence, batting your eyelashes.

Hunter blinks, looking momentarily stunned before a slow grin spreads across his face. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?” He says, his tone teasing. Without missing a beat, he dips his finger into the paint tray and swipes it across your forehead, leaving a streak of green.

You gasp, feigning shock, before pouting. “Hey, no fair!” You protest, trying your hardest not to chuckle as Omega’s laughter fills the room.

Hunter steps forward, balancing the paint tray in one hand as he slides an arm around your waist, hauling you in. You’re radiant in the midday sunshine, eyes sparkling with mischief, the smear of paint across your forehead incredibly endearing. Dipping his head down, his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, tongue sliding against your lips teasingly before he breaks the connection, aware that you have an audience. Mouth ghosting across your cheek, he pauses as he reaches your ear. “I’ll paint you with something else later.” He rasps quietly, teasingly squeezing your side before he pulls away, heat burning in his gaze. 

Stunned into silence, warmth flushes through you. You watch, mouth agape, as Hunter returns to painting, completely unruffled. 

Omega calls your name, snapping you out of your. “Are you okay?” She asks, unsure what Hunter said to you, though she’s pretty sure she doesn’t want to know whatever it was. 

You blink, shaking your head slightly to clear your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You assure her with a smile. “Just got lost in thought for a moment.”

“Mhm.” Omega hums. She loves seeing you and Hunter openly affectionate and is still proud of the little stunt she pulled shortly after you all fled Kamino, which led to the two of you getting together. She’d always been intuitive and knew from the get-go that there was something between you. “Good, then stop slacking,” she teases, turning back to continue painting.

You rejoin her, and the playful banter and occasional laughter continue as you work together to finish painting the wall. The forest green paint covers the surface quickly, leaving behind a fresh, vibrant hue that transforms the room.

A sense of satisfaction washes over you as you step back to admire your handiwork. The colour stands out against the remaining white walls, adding a pop and some character. “It looks wonderful.” You remark, smiling at Omega and Hunter. “Great job, team.”

Omega beams with pride, placing her paintbrush back onto the tray.

“How about we take a break and grab an early dinner?” Hunter glances towards the windows, making a rough guess at the time.

The idea of a break sounds appealing, and you nod in agreement. “Sounds like a plan. I’m starving.”

“How about a barbecue?” Hunter suggests, figuring it was worth the little extra time it would take compared to rustling something up in the kitchen. “We can grill some food outside and enjoy the nice weather.”

“Sounds perfect.” You agree. “Go fire up the grill. Omega and I will tidy up in here.”

Giving you a small kiss, Hunter heads out to the backyard to start the grill, leaving you and Omega to clean up the painting supplies and put away the tarps. It doesn’t take long, and once the room is tidied up, you and Omega make your way outside to join Hunter. The smell of cooking food fills the air, making your stomach grumble, and there’s already a small spread of food on the table.

“Looks like you’ve got everything under control,” you remark, stepping behind Hunter to wrap your arms around his waist as he mans the grill.

A huff of laughter leaves Hunter. “When have I not had things under control?”

“You do not want her to answer that.” Tech’s voice cuts through the moment as he steps out into the yard to join you all, along with Wrecker and Crosshair. Although Hemlock’s reconditioning had stolen most of his memories, he’d spent his life recording everything and was working through clips to see if they jogged anything in his mind. Between that and all the stories you all shared, snippets were starting to come back to him.

The boys and Omega slide into chairs around the table. You chuckle at the remark and the thin press of Hunter’s lips, knowing full well that there have been plenty of times when his plans haven’t gone smoothly. “Alright, everyone grab a plate,” you call out, gesturing to the spread of food laid out on the table as you place down another one. 

“I’m starvin’,” Wrecker exclaims, reaching for a few Nuna drumsticks. The rest of the group follows suit, filling their plates with delicious food and settling around the table. The atmosphere is relaxed and cheerful, and laughter and conversation fill the air as you enjoy the meal together.

As you eat, contentment washes over you. You’d fought so hard for this - moments where you could enjoy each other’s company and revel in life’s simple pleasures. Your little family deserves it after everything that’s happened, and you soak it in, feeling grateful that the Kaminoans assigned you as a liaison to the boys all those years ago.

Once everyone has eaten, Crosshair cleans up the grill while the rest of you remain around the table, enjoying the warm afternoon sun, and eventually, the conversation turns to plans for the rest of the day. “We should start putting the furniture where we want it in our room.” You suggest, glancing at Hunter.

“I’ll help with the heavy lifting!” Wrecker volunteers, already pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. The rest of you smile at his enthusiasm.

As a unit, you clear the table, gathering up the remaining dishes before heading back inside. With everyone pitching in, the process goes quickly. It also takes little time for Wrecker and Hunter to put the bedroom furniture where it belongs. The newly painted wall is mercifully already dry, thanks to Pabu’s heat. 

With a shout of thanks to Wrecker as the big man leaves your room, you let out a deep exhale. This is home now. And you can’t quite believe how lucky you are. 

Crossing the room, you step onto the small balcony overlooking the ocean. Your hands wrap around the warm metal railing, and you take a moment to close your eyes and let it sink in. As you stand there, basking in the warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze, you hear the soft sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Opening your eyes, you turn to see Hunter stepping out onto the balcony, a small smile playing on his lips as he joins you. 

“Enjoying the view?” He asks, his voice quiet and gentle.

You nod, turning back to face the water, leaning against the railing as you see the endless ocean stretching out before you. “It’s gorgeous,” you reply, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Almost as gorgeous as you.”

Hunter shakes his head, flattered by the compliment but mad at himself for not seeing that you’d snatch the low-hanging fruit. He steps closer, pressing up against your back as he wraps his arms around you. You lean into his embrace, relishing the warmth and strength surrounding you.

“I’m glad we’re here.” He murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Me too.” You whisper, letting go of the railing with one hand to intertwine your fingers with his. “I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”

For a moment, you simply stand there together, enjoying each other’s company and the moment’s tranquillity. The world fades away, leaving only the two of you and the gentle sound of the waves below. Even the boys’ noise around the table in the yard, teaching Omega how to play Sabacc, fades into the background.

Eventually, Hunter breaks the silence, his voice soft and affectionate. “I love you.” He says, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you too.” You reply. “More than anything.”

Happy, Hunter dips his head down, his nose finding the crook of your neck. In slow motion, he drags it up the length of your throat towards the back of your ear, breathing in your scent.

The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you tilt your head slightly to give him better access, relishing in the moment’s intimacy. His lips brush against your skin, feather-light and achingly tender, sending a rush of warmth through your veins. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the sensation of his touch, his breath hot against your ear.

“Think it might be time to paint my favourite masterpiece…” He murmurs, his voice heavy with desire. 

You inhale sharply at his words, hand tightening around his own as desire curls through you. Turning in his arms, you press your lips to his in a passionate kiss, hands reaching up to hold his handsome face. 

Heat courses through Hunter as he grasps your rear, taking control of the kiss as he steps backwards into the room, drawing you along with him. 

There was a new bed to break in. 

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[kybercrystals94]

Six Weeks

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 22 - Prompts: Bleeding through Bandages // Reopening Wounds

Rated: T (for mentions of injury) | Words: 1391

“You have two choices, captain. You can spend the next six weeks in medical under the careful watch of a medic to make sure you don’t do anything stupid; or, you go home for six weeks and let your brothers make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” 

Omega rolls her eyes. “You forget it was my brothers who taught me most of my ‘stupid’ stunts, Hera.” 

“Maybe,” Hera admits. “However, one look at your injuries, and I have a feeling they’ll become the most insufferable mother nexus you’ve ever seen until you’re cleared for active duty.”

“That’s not a feeling, Hera,” Omega groans, trying to shrug into her jacket with her one good arm, “That’s a kriffing fact. I’m never going to hear the end of it when they find out what happened.” 

“You haven’t told them yet?” Hera gasps, helping Omega thread her injured arm through the other sleeve. 

“Of course not. If I did, they’d be storming the base right now demanding to see me. It’s not like I’m on my deathbed, Hera. I crashed, I survived, I’m fine.”

“Your definition of ‘fine’ needs work.”

Omega slides off the medical cot, favoring her left leg. “I’ll take that into consideration while I’m forced to lie around for a month and a half.” 

“Good.”

As Omega starts to limp out of medical, Hera stops her, pulling her into an embrace, carefully avoiding Omega’s cracked ribs. “I’m so happy you’re alright, Megs.” 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Omega mutters with a grin. 

Hera laughs. “Don’t give your brothers too much trouble, got it?” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

**

On General Syndulla’s orders, Omega is not allowed to fly herself back to Pabu. Instead, she is being transported by a shiny new recruit everyone calls Iggy, for whatever reason. They land in the middle of the planet’s night cycle, Omega directing Iggy to the cave that typically houses her own ship when it isn’t being held hostage by Hera. 

“Need help with your bags, captain,” Iggy asks as Omega pushes herself unsteadily to her feet. 

Omega waves him off. “It’s one bag, and I’ve got it. I’m not a complete invalid.” 

That makes Iggy grin. “Understood, captain.”

Despite protests, Iggy does help her down the ramp and hovers as Omega gets her footing on the uneven cave floor. He tries to convince her to let him walk her up to the house, but Omega insists that she’s fine. She finds one of Batcher’s long pieces of driftwood the hound has a habit of hoarding in the corner. “See, I’ve got a walking stick, I’ll be fine.” 

“If you’re sure,” Iggy relents. He gives a sloppy salute. “See you in six weeks?” 

“Six weeks,” Omega agrees. 

Omega watches him off, leaning heavily on her makeshift cane. Somehow, being so close to her brothers and their anticipated mothering makes her feel less valiant about her wounds. No matter how old she gets, how experienced she becomes, she feels like a child again with her brothers nearby to protect her. 

As she makes her way up the worn path, her injuries make themselves known. The laceration on her thigh pulses under the bandage, her sprained shoulder and elbow ache in her sling, her cracked ribs throb with every intake of air. Maybe she should have let Iggy carry her bag. 

Omega focuses on her surroundings, the familiar sound of nighttime breathing around her, the muted roll of waves on the beach. The scent of fresh air and sea laced with the sweet smell of local flora. How many dark nights did she sit with her brothers, watching the stars and listening to stories? Countless nights leaning against Hunter or Crosshair or Wrecker until she fell asleep to the rumble of their voices, to then be coaxed awake to go to bed. 

When she finally makes it to the back door, she pulls out the key already tucked in her coat pocket, and makes her way inside. She drops her bag by the door, propping her stick next to it, then limps as quietly as she can to the kitchen. She hopes to find leftover supper put away, or, better yet, cookies in the corner cupboard. 

She checks for the cookies first and finds them, plucking the box from the shelf and putting it on the counter before turning to get two cups. Right on time, the kitchen light clicks on, and Omega smiles. 

“Omega?” Hunter asks groggily. 

She doesn’t turn. “Took you long enough,” Omega says lightly. “Hungry? I was just making myself a snack.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?” 

“I wanted it to be a surprise. Did it work?” 

Hunter snorts. “We would’ve waited up for you if we’d known.”

“Exactly,” Omega says, moving to get out the milk, “you old guys need your sleep.” 

She hears Hunter step closer. “Omega, are you injured?” 

“I’ll be alright,” Omega says, but her body betrays her and she nearly stumbles on a side step. 

Hunter catches her bad elbow. 

The pain is immediate, and Omega tries so hard to stifle the cry that reactively comes. It only partially works, the sound escaping like a shrill whine in the back of her throat. 

“What–where are you hurt?” Hunter demands, withdrawing his grip but stepping closer. 

Omega leans against the counter, waiting for the wave of pain to fade. “Uh, that’s not a short list,” she grits out. 

“You need to sit down,” Hunter says. “Did you walk all the way here from the cavern?”

“Yeah, not the wisest decision I’ve ever made,” Omega admits. 

She finally turns around, letting the light expose her visible injuries. She hasn’t looked in a mirror recently; however, she knows must look even more awful than she feels. The look in her brother’s eyes confirms it. 

His expression tightens. “You should be in a medical bay.” 

“Well, it was that or this, and I’d take an opportunity to visit my brothers any day.” Omega lifts her good arm, and Hunter brings it over his shoulder, taking most of Omega’s weight as she hobbles into the common room. Omega is thankful he doesn’t try to carry her. 

Once she’s settled on the couch, Hunter looms over her. “Well, I’d like that long list of injuries now.” 

With a sigh, she gives it to him, doing her best not to gloss over pertinent details. When she gets to the laceration on her leg, Hunter looks down at the bandaging. “Looks like you reopened it with your little hike from the beach,” he says, and Omega glances down. A small bloom of blood stains the careful wrap. 

“Kriff,” Omega curses. 

Hunter massages the bridge of his nose, heaving a lung deep sigh. “I’ll check it over and get it re-wrapped. We’ll send for AZI in the morning.” 

Omega nods, sinking into the worn cushions. “Okay.” 

Hunter stands up, but before he leaves, he rests a hand on Omega’s head, calloused fingers tousling her hair. “It’s good to see you, kid.” 

“You too,” Omega returns softly. 

She knows her brother will take care of her, just like he always has. 

**

Omega wakes to sunlight pouring through her window. Miraculously, neither Wrecker or Crosshair woke up during the night while Hunter redressed her wounds and got her situated in bed. She can’t even remember Hunter turning out the bedroom light before she fell asleep. 

She turns her head and sees an old comm unit on her bedside table, a torn piece of flimsi propped against it. Do not get up. Call if you need anything it says in scrawled letters. Omega rolls her eyes and smiles. 

“Do you think she’s awake?” Wrecker’s version of a whisper practically rattles the door. 

“If she wasn’t, she is now,” Crosshair hisses back. 

Omega’s smile deepens. “I’m awake!” she calls out. 

The door flies open, Wrecker’s exuberant presence filling the room. “Megs! Why didn’t you tell us why you were coming?” he cries. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Omega says, laughing, moving to push herself up on her good elbow.

Crosshair is leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. “Liar. You just didn’t want to tell us you crashed a stolen TIE fighter.” 

“It’s a good story, I promise,” Omega assures him. 

The ex-sniper smirks at her. “It better be.”

END

A/N: I actually had a little bit more written for this; so I might add a second part if I get that portion finished ;-;

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[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Day 23: Under a Spell

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Jun (cold)

Caregiver(s): Mingyu (virtually)

Word Count: 878

Notes: Two Jun fics in a row. It's almost like he's my bias-wrecker or something.

“Junnie-Hyung!” Mingu cheered instantly when the Facetime call was accepted. He had been biting his lip, hoping that Jun wasn’t busy. He could’ve always left a voicemail if so, but he just really wanted to talk with Jun tonight. And the feeling appeared to be mutual; the sight of Mingyu made his hyung smile on impact. 

“Mingyuuuu!” Jun exclaimed, shifting around to a more comfortable position. He appeared to be on a couch, wherever he was. “How are you?”

“I miss youuu!!!”

“I miss you too! How are promotions going?” His voice sounded off to Mingyu, but he figured it was the audio quality. 

“Amazing, hyung!” Mingyu sighed. “Everything has been going so smooth, but it’s just different without and Hannie-hyung.”

Jun pouted. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. You’re living your dreams right now! How’s filming?”

“Filming is going great! My scene partners have been fantastic, and…” Jun broke off, disappearing off the screen, sneezing twice.

Mingyu’s face fell. Something in his brain clicked. “Hyung, are you sick?”

Jun nodded, swiping at his nose. “Yeah. Just a cold, though.” 

It was Mingyu’s turn to pout. “I’m sorry to hear that…” 

“It’s okay, really. It was bound to happen. I had to get thrown in a pool for a scene the other day, and wet clothes plus cold weather plus AC blasting inside PLUS erratic sleep hours…” He shrugged. “It’s more annoying than anything.” He sniffled, rubbing at his nose again. “Besides, I’ve had worse.”

“But we’re not there to take care of you!”

“No, and that’s definitely been felt. Luckily I have the next two days off anyway, and my cast mates have been really kind…”

“But they're not us,” Mingyu interrupted. 

Jun shook his head. “No, they’re not you.” 

Mingyu couldn’t fight the frown off his face. Yes, of all the members, Junhui was probably one of the most adept at taking care of himself when sick; he never made a fuss about it but advocated for his needs and spoke up to let others know what was going on, took his medicine and drank plenty of fluids and slept as much as possible. But just because Jun was self-sufficient didn’t mean he had to be. When he was at home, in the dorm, with his team, they knew how to take care of him without being asked. Mingyu knew exactly how Jun liked his tea, knew which blanket in the living room he preferred, knew the recipes that comforted him the most. And knowing that his brother was so far away from all that… it broke his heart.  

“Gyu? Are you still with me?”

“Y-yeah. I’m just… bummed that you’re sick and I can’t be there with you.”

Jun laughed. “I’m pretty sure you have better things to do then hang out with me and my germs.”

“Okay, fine, I’d rather not hang out with your germs, but I’d take them if it meant I could hug you.”

“Are you homesick for me?”

Mingyu blinked. “Honestly, yeah, I think so. Aren’t you?” The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. He slapped a hand against his mouth, eyes comically wide. 

Thankfully Jun laughed before his smile turned thoughtful. “Desperately. But I am also so happy to be here. This all feels so…”  He began to move his hands in a circle, searching for the right word. He opened his mouth to respond, but pitched forward with another sneeze instead. “See, I don’t even have words for how much I miss you!”

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “Should I let you get back to resting, then?” 

“No, no, I want to hear about the comeback!”

“Are you sure?”

Jun nodded. “Talking with you has been the highlight of my week.”

So, beaming brighter than the sun, Mingyu talked. He explained every detail of their comeback from practice to pre-recording to performances. He explained their outfits, their sets, the memes and jokes that they’d created. After a few minutes, distracted in his story, Mingyu noticed that Jun’s eyes had slipped closed. He hadn’t noticed when that had happened. 

“Hyung? Are you still with me?”

Jun smiled before opening his eyes. “Yes, I’m listening. Your voice is putting me to sleep, though, it’s so peaceful. It’s like magic.” 

“Adila kiya akiya shurapoeh / With a language only we know, I cast a spell,” Mingyu sang softly. Jun beamed. Mingyu continued singing, starting back at the top of “Spell.” Jun moved his shoulders along to the beat, arms twisting and winding in an interpretive version of the actual choreography. Mingyu’s voice grew sillier in time with Jun’s movements until both of them were giggling hysterically. 

Suddenly a knock came on Mingyu’s door. He turned to see Joshua poking his head in, gesturing that it was time for dinner. Mingyu nodded before turning back to the phone. “Okay, hyung, I’m so sorry but I gotta go.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for chatting so long. I love you, Gyu.” Jun formed a heart with his hands. 

Mingyu copied the gesture. “Love you too, Junnie. Feel better soon, okay? Pretend I’m there giving you the biggest hug in the world.”

Jun wrapped his arms around himself. “I can feel the love.” 

“Good. Bye, hyung.”

“Bye bye!” 

[lesbianhotch]

and fish is my favorite perfume

wrecker gets back from a mission a little worse for wear (wrecker x fem reader, established relationship, spoilers for 3x08, fluff, wrecker sweetness, smooches, a little steamy)

“Ok, so can you explain it one more time?”

Wreckers voice is dulled by the sound of the running fresher, but not by much. You can hear him well enough through the cracked open door from your spot on the stool you’ve pulled up next to it. 

“They were HUGE! Big terrible teeth and one of ‘em grabbed Hunter, but I jumped right on it and showed it who’s boss.”

You nod along, eyes moving to the basket full of laundry that seemed to be staring at you from a few feet away. 

“And they showed up because you were in the water, where you were-“

“-disarming floating mines.”

“And that's why you and your clothes and your armor smell like swamp.”

Wreck laughs, and you hear the wet sound of a washcloth being scrubbed harshly against skin.

“You got it!”

He returned to your home reeking of sulfurous muck and you had to open all your shuttered windows just to prevent yourself from gagging.

He’d frowned when you refused his usual kisses, but agreed to your terms of fresher first, hugs later. 

You’d pinched your nose and tossed the first empty basket you could find into the fresher, directing Wrecker to go inside and disrobe and put everything in the now muddy container. He’d very politely nudged it out before getting under the wet spray and you’d moved it far across the room. 

“I don’t think those clothes are salvageable. We oughta burn them.”

“Ah! That armor’s been through worse.”

You severely doubt that. 

But then again…

“I’ll be back,” you announce as you hop off from the stool, steeling yourself as you approach the stinking basket.

You haul it out of the house and into your modest front yard. If you’re honest with yourself, you don’t have a plan in place. A long soak in some fresh water is the best bet for a preliminary wash, but you don't have the energy for that at the moment. An hour or two outside will  have to do for now.

You just want your house free of stink, and your boyfriend clean and in your arms.

The sound of the fresher has stopped when you come back inside, so you come right up to the door and knock gently.

“Ok in there?”

“Ya asking if I still smell?”

 “Maybe,” you reply, unable to keep the cheeky edge of your voice hidden. 

You let yourself in, and you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your mouth.

Wreckers in front of the mirror, and you can just see yourself in it, despite him taking up most of the view. His armor did all it could, but the bruises on him are massive. Dark and purple, covering his chest and shoulders and arms. In some spots it almost blends into the hair that covers his chest and leads down onto his belly. His back is just as bad, a large misshapen mass in the center of it.

“Oh Wreck…”

He shrugs, clearly not wanting you to worry. “I’ve had worse. Just gotta get some bacta on ‘em.” 

You spy another one across his hip, disappearing down into the towel that's tied around him. 

You want to appreciate every inch of skin that’s on display in front of you. You want to appreciate the map of scars that you’ve committed to memory. You want to appreciate the droplets of water that are slowly making their way down Wreckers back to rest at the top of the towel. 

But your heart aches, and while he may be as fine as he says he is, it doesn’t negate the way you feel.

You’re still behind him, so you get on your tiptoes and press a firm kiss to the bruised shoulder, and Wrecker grunts.

You pull back immediately. “I’m sorry! Did that hurt?”

“No. Was nice. Just…didn’t expect it is all.”

You place a gentle hand on his back, doing your best to avoid the worst of it. “Can I do it again?”

You feel Wrecker nod, and you press a soft kiss to the mottled skin. You do another, and then another, following the shape of the bruise with your lips. 

Wrecker lets out a low groan, followed by a chuckle that makes your stomach flip.

“Don’t start something that I won’t be able to finish.” 

You pull back, internally chastising yourself. You know he’s hurting, and yet-

He interrupts your thoughts.

“I can already hear ya in that head of yours, pretty thing. I’m alright. Just need some rest.” He turns around to face you finally, and he leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t want ya to worry about me ok?”

You snort. “Yeah, like that will ever happen.” You lean back, tilting your face up and accepting your first kiss since Wreckers return home. “Now let’s get you into some clean clothes and into bed.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”