#in between the angst there's nuggets of fluff

[softaestluv]

I love your writing so much like chefs kiss😌 I was wondering if you could write a really sweet story about reader meeting Simon and Johnny and joining their relationship. Maybe she gets insecure that she hasn't met them sooner but they give her lots of love. Ive read too much ghoap x reader angst and need some fluff😩(maybe a lil spice too lol)

The art store you worked at was small; a local shop that was occupied by elderly men and women more often than not. That wasn’t necessarily an issue; you enjoyed their company, though you would be lying if you said a particular Scottish man with a mohawk wasn’t your favorite customer.

When you first meet Johnny, he had been roaming the aisles aimlessly for a couple of minutes, so like the good worker you were, you asked if there was anything you could help him with. You practically swooned when he smiled wide at you— ‘aye, bonnie, fancy helpin' a lad oot?’

Soon after his presence became common place. At first, he would ask you for help, pull you from the counter so you could walk him down the aisles to the specific item. It seemed like an everyday thing; you were sure he didn’t actually need half the things he was buying— ‘Didn’t you just buy a sharpener last week, Johnny?’

‘Did I? Must’ve lost it.’ followed by a smile with a glint of mischief.

You didn’t really mind, you were quite enraptured with every animated story he told you in his thick accent while at work— even if you weren’t completely sure what he was saying half the time.

You couldn’t even act like seeing his burly shoulders walk through the doors didn’t make your day. Though, it was hard to admit that you had a small crush on him when you knew he had a boyfriend. It was even harder when Johnny started to drag Simon to your paint and drink classes and you became just as enamored with him— ‘Johnny, ya laugh at me paintin’ again, I swear that'll be your last.’

‘Si, this is meant to be therapeutic, aye!’

They became regulars; two ex-military men, massive boulders in the back of your paint and drink classes sat between the elderly. It was a comical sight to the say the least, but as much as they were amusing, they were gentlemen too. Helped carry the seniors bags and walked them to their cars at the end of the night.

Then, they helped you clean up after too, always stayed late to make sure you got to your car safely too even if you protested— ‘Only lookin' out for ye, lass.’

You felt bad for having a crush on both of them when they were clearly just trying to be friendly, but it became almost impossible when they started bringing you lunch on your breaks, when they started to brush their palms on your arms and back. When they kept inviting you over for dinner, but you kept denying them because you didn’t have the strength to eat with them and pretend you didn’t want more.

But, one particular class you indulged in the wine too— something you shouldn’t have done.

You ended up going out for more drinks with them after, confessed your feelings with tears in yours eyes when you were absolutely wasted. You thought it would be your biggest regret, that it would ruin your friendship, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

They took you home that night, dried your tears with Scottish shushing and rough fingers. Cleaned your makeup off the best they could, stuffed you full of chicken nuggets, and snuggled you to sleep.

And then you never left.

It wasn’t always easy, especially when your boyfriends had been dating for years before you came into the picture, when they had been through traumatic experiences together that you would never know. They had a bond that you don’t think you would entirely have with either of them.

It was a hurtle you struggled to get over, but it stung your chest painfully when they seemed to communicate with each other with one look. Made you feel quite isolated in your own relationship because you didn’t understand them to extent they did each other.

So, when Johnny was sprawled on your chest, running your fingers through his mohawk, your head in Simon’s lap, the words came out of your mouth before you realized.

“I wish I met you two sooner.”

“What d’ya mean?” Simon asked, finding your eyes from above you.

“Well, I just feel left out sometimes,” You confessed quietly, Johnny’s body stiffening atop you.

“Why’s that?” Simon’s voice rang again.

You diverted your gaze from him; you hadn’t intentionally planned for this to turn into an actual conversation.

“Um, I don’t know. You two-,” You paused, licking your lips anxiously, “You two have a deeper bond with each other than I do, and sometimes I just feel like I don’t belong. That if I met you guys just a little sooner then it would be an easier relationship for the two of you.”

Johnny slid off your chest at that, pulled you to sit up beside him, “Bonnie, what are ye on about? Our relationship wisnae complete until we found ye.”

“You were the missin’ piece, love,” Simon said, banding an arm over your shoulder and pulling you close, “Everythin’ else just fell into place when you became our girl."

“We wouldnae change a thing for a' the world, nae chance,” Johnny confirmed, pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead.

“Really?” You asked, pinching the smile that threatened to spill from your lips between your teeth.

“Aye, of course. Ye want us to prove it?” Johnny asked, but it was mischievous, a wolffish smirk smearing across his face which meant only one thing— you knew you were in for a night.

Anon I hope this is what you meant lol!!! Thank you for the kind words & request 🤍

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin 

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you. 

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it? 

Fuck me. This shit is highschool. 

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it. 

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now? 

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos. 

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy. 

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize. 

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy. 

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?” 

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning? 

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Tch. Omegas.” 

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?” 

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?” 

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?” 

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?” 

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not. 

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.” 

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually. 

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad. 

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck? 

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.” 

“Okay, cool. When's your next–” 

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.” 

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.” 

“M'not. Fuck you.” 

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?” 

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm. 

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never. 

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today. 

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now. 

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!” 

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him. 

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?” 

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly. 

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention. 

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents. 

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy. 

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked. 

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?” 

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha. 

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?” 

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna. 

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.” 

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little. 

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons. 

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?” 

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.” 

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.” 

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise. 

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.” 

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit. 

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.” 

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore. 

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–” 

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.” 

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor. 

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features. 

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose. 

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?” 

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up. 

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.” 

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.” 

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.” 

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.” 

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–” 

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted. 

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes. 

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–” 

“I'll take you home.” 

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.” 

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature. 

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.” 

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh. 

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe. 

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why. 

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–” 

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?” 

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first. 

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control. 

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash. 

“Fucking–wait, just–” 

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door. 

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone. 

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him. 

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges. 

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?” 

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast. 

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.” 

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled. 

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.” 

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat. 

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.” 

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.” 

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?” 

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.” 

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?” 

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.” 

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue. 

“You’re exhausting.” 

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.” 

“Wow.” 

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door. 

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face. 

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad. 

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.” 

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away. 

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard. 

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.” 

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?” 

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?” 

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you. 

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–” 

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did). 

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really. 

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail. 

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else. 

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt). 

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry. 

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it. 

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.” 

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches. 

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath. 

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing. 

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink. 

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.” 

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire. 

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.” 

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.” 

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time. 

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though. 

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked. 

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?” 

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.” 

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?” 

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.” 

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.” 

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes. 

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. 

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it. 

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?” 

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly. 

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.” 

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go. 

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.” 

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that. 

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched. 

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?” 

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in. 

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more. 

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.” 

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide. 

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.” 

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest. 

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it. 

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun. 

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once. 

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey. 

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed. 

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.” 

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you. 

But maybe, maybe, you had a point. 

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up. 

“Ow. Gross.” 

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.” 

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.” 

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst. 

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 25 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The arrival of your parents in San Diego means a break for you and Bradley. But when the time comes for you to leave Rose safe and sound at home with them, it's a bit of a struggle. Your weekend away in La Jolla gets off to an explicit start before you realize you forgot something important.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, exhibitionism, DILF Roo

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You could see the exhaustion on your parents' faces as Bradley carried their bags upstairs after everyone finished eating his extended birthday dinner. They were used to being on east coast time, and they would probably end up in bed for the night the same time Rose did.

"Why don't you two let me feed her and get her ready for bed while you head up?"

They both gave you looks of annoyance as your mom held the baby on the couch next to your dad. "We're here to spend time with our granddaughter and give you and Bradley a break," your dad promised.

"I know," you told them as your husband came back downstairs. "But we're not leaving for La Jolla until Thursday morning."

You watched as Rose wrapped her tiny fingers around your mom's thumb as her eyes fluttered closed. "There's no way you're going to be able to get me to hand her over right now. Look at her. She's comfortable, and she's definitely not hungry again yet." She glanced between you and Bradley. "Can't you think of something to keep yourselves busy until Rosie's bedtime?"

"I can think of several things that would keep us busy," Bradley murmured as his hand rested on your lower back before sliding down to your ass.

You glared at him, silently begging for him to not embarrass you in front of your parents. Besides, you were still sore, and he knew that was only for special occasions.

"Just go relax," your dad whispered, hand gentle on Rose's fuzzy hair. "You can feed her when she's hungry."

Bradley's lips grazed your ear as he whispered, "Feel like taking a bath with me?"

"Always," you replied with a yawn. "I'm tired of arguing with them when they just want to play with the baby," you told him as you and he walked through your bedroom and into the bathroom. 

When Bradley started the water and pulled his shirt over his head, you had to bite your lip. "They just missed the Nugget," he said casually while his biceps and abs flexed effortlessly as he unbuckled his belt. Your mouth went dry as you watched his jeans slide down his legs before he stepped out of them. "Can you blame them, Baby Girl? We have the cutest kid in the world, all thanks to you. She's perfect like you are."

But you didn't feel that way most of the time. You felt lumpy and weird, especially when you had to get undressed in front of him while you still felt full from dinner. "I think she looks like you more than me," you whispered. You quickly ditching your clothes and got in the tub, curling your knees against yourself beneath the water.

Bradley eased his big body down with a sigh, pulling you against him until you uncurled. His lips ran across your face as he murmured, "She's got this pretty curve to her cheeks just like you do. I would know. I've studied it extensively."

You were helpless to do anything but snuggle against him when he said something that sweet. "Bradley," you whined as he held you tighter. You were tired from celebrating his birthday and trying to pump a supply of breast milk that Rose would have available while you were away. When his fingers brushed your breast, you closed your eyes. You wanted to, but you were stifling another yawn.

"I can't wait to be alone with you. Like really alone. We can order room service and take naps," he whispered. "And when you start to feel full, your tits are all mine for three days. No sharing."

"Oh," you gasped. "I hadn't thought of that. I was going to pack my pump."

Bradley chuckled. "Pack it. But I doubt you'll need it, Sweetheart. Let's get in bed soon. We have work tomorrow."

----------------------------

It was strange leaving Rose home with your parents instead of packing her up in the Bronco each morning. It was also wild when Bradley went into the nursery each time Rose cried only to find that one of your parents always beat him to it.

"When are your parents moving to San Diego?" he asked you on Wednesday evening while the two of you were enjoying a quiet dinner together on the patio while they dealt with a diaper blowout inside the house.

"My mom wants to list their house now." You were looking at him very seriously. "Like I don't think she's kidding. Are you sure you want them so close?"

Bradley nodded as his thoughts started to drift. He had almost no family of his own for his daughter to grow up with. No grandparents. No aunts. No uncles. Brenda was great, and she sent some gifts in the mail, but she was back in Virginia with the rest of his relatives. All he had to offer Rose was his decade and a half long friendship with Natasha, which was nothing to scoff at. She already stopped by this week for a few minutes to see her goddaughter and read her a book.

"Yeah," Bradley finally said. "I want them that close."

"They'll be a handful," you warned. "You know how my mom gets around the holidays."

Bradley set his silverware down. "Sweetheart, I've got nothing to offer Rose."

"What?" you asked, looking at him like he had two heads.

"I've got no family," he said softly. "Her only knowledge of my parents will be the things I tell her about. Carole and Goose will be like legends to her. Hell, I barely remember my own dad enough to tell her much." You reached for his hand and gave his fingers a squeeze as he said, "If she has the opportunity to grow up around your parents, I think that's important. Even if your mom turns into a control freak around the holidays."

You laughed and scooted your chair a little closer to him. "Just as long as you understand what you're getting into, Roo. And anytime you feel like telling a legendary story about your mom or your dad, Rosie and I are both all ears."

Bradley sent you in to finish packing to leave for La Jolla while he cleaned up. Rose's little giggles erupted from the nursery, and he could picture your dad tickling her belly. Thank goodness they were willing to stay here for the rest of the week, because Bradley desperately wanted to get you completely alone again like the babymoon in Mexico.

However, when it was actually time to leave on Thursday, you had tears in your eyes, and he wasn't too far off himself.

"I didn't think it would be this hard," you whispered, holding Rose in your arms in the nursery with Bradley's chin resting on your shoulder. "Why can't we take her with us?"

He kissed the side of your neck before reaching for the baby, wanting a snuggle of his own. "Because I think it's important to have some time to ourselves," he replied, pressing his nose to her soft skin and inhaling deeply. He was actually so in love with his daughter, and he didn't care if you saw him cry, but he also didn't want to cancel the hotel reservation or take Rose along. "And I know your parents will have fun on their own with her."

"You're right," you said, swiping at your cheeks. "The three of them will have so much fun, and we can FaceTime with her later tonight. Plus, I already put all that pink champagne in the blue Bronco."

The vivid image of how good you looked with sticky champagne drying on your breasts filled his mind. And that was before you were lactating. He kissed his daughter's face a dozen times and whispered, "I love you, Nugget, but I need to pound Mommy into a mattress uninterrupted for a few hours."

"Bradley!"

"What? She gets it," he muttered, kissing her one last time before handing her back to you. "I'll put the bags in the Bronco. We can leave as soon as you're ready."

---------------------------

You ran your palm along your sundress, trying to keep yourself from texting your mom again. The hotel was just five minutes away now, and she promised they would call if they needed anything. When you left your house, Rose was sound asleep on your dad's chest while he read the newspaper on the couch, and you knew she would be well taken care of.

"I just miss her," you whispered, staring out the window at nothing, trying to get lost in Bradley's Motown playlist.

"Sweetheart, I miss her during an eight hour workday. Trust me, I miss her now, too, but you and I need a little rest and some time alone."

"And my parents need to know we trust them," you supplied.

"Yes," Bradley agreed as he made the final turn toward the beach. "And I need to lick champagne off your tits."

You couldn't stop the smile that found your lips or the laughter that bubbled up inside you. "Okay, we did have a pretty good time here two years ago."

"A pretty good time?" Bradley scoffed. "That was some of our best work. I mean, I was going to propose to you anyway, but after that adventure, it couldn't happen soon enough."

You had your face buried in both hands as Bradley handed the keys for the Bronco to the hotel valet. Your cheeks were burning, but more than anything you wanted him to never be able to get enough of you. 

"Let's go," he rasped, helping you out your door and into his arms. He was holding both bags and the champagne and wrapping his fingers around yours like it was nothing. "I want to hang out in the room for a bit before we go to dinner."

Once you had the room keys in your hand, you rode to the top floor in the elevator. "How much did you pay for this room, Roo?" you asked, pulling his aviators down low on his nose so you could have a clear view of his eyes. "Bradley," you said, leaning up to kiss him, "how much did you go over budget?"

"We don't need budgets," he said firmly, backing you out as soon as the doors slid open. "College savings will be a waste of time since Rose is going to have a free ride to the Naval Academy."

His words made you smile, and his big hand felt incredible through the fabric of your dress. "How much?" you whispered, unlocking the correct door when you came to it. You were met with a massive suite with a sprawling balcony overlooking the ocean. Bradley was sheepish when you turned to look at him with wide eyes. "Do I even want to know?"

"No. You do not," he whispered, setting everything down and reaching for you. "I'm serious about Rose though. She's just like you. She'll be the smartest kid in school. And beautiful, too."

He had you in his arms, and you ran your palm over the fly of his jeans. "You just want me to let you open some champagne, don't you?"

"Desperately," he whispered. 

Thirty minutes later, he popped open a bottle fresh out of the ice bucket, and you sat down on his lap on the balcony. The sun was bright, but it wasn't too warm, and the crash of the waves below was like a natural soundtrack. "This is nice," you told him, taking the first sip and licking your lips before passing him the bottle. But his eyes were glued on you. "What?"

He closed his eyes, nostrils flaring. "I've had a semi-boner since we got here. There's no way you can't feel it."

You leaned in closer and ran your lips along his ear. "I can definitely feel it. Your cock is huge."

He whined your first name like you were torturing him, and if he was partially hard a minute ago, now he was all the way there. "You'll be the death of me," he replied before chugging half the bottle. Then he froze, eyes going wide while a few delicate bubbles lingered on his mustache before bursting. "What are you doing?"

"Unzipping your pants," you told him with a shrug as you did exactly that. Your room was at one far end of the building, but there was a neighboring room with its own balcony on one side. And it was definitely occupied, because you could occasionally hear voices through the open door.

"The next balcony is like ten feet away," he whispered, glancing to his right before his gaze returned to your face.

You paused with your hand down the front of his pants and your hand around his cock. "Do you not want me to?"

"No, I do," he replied, voice dark and needy. "Very much so, actually."

You wanted it, too. Even just the suggestion of exhibitionism got you going, and you knew that he knew it. "We can be discreet," you promised, wiggling into place so you were straddling him. There were a few people walking around on the beach below, but you didn't care. You pulled your panties aside and let him run his tip through your pussy before he guided himself inside. It felt like your eyes were going to roll back in your head as you shook your sundress around both of you, hiding where you were intimately connected.

"Jesus," you moaned arching your back as your hands settled on his shoulders. "This should always be an outdoor activity." The sun was warm on your face, and now the ocean soundtrack was accompanied by Bradley's soft grunting.

"I know you think we're being discreet, but we're not, Baby Girl," he whispered, rolling his hips up to meet yours while he drank more champagne. "Not one little bit."

"Save some of that for my tits," you told him, tapping the bottle with your nails. "I'm going to need you to nurse soon so they don't start hurting."

"Fuck. Me," he groaned, shaking his head. "If you say something like that again, I'll cum."

You leaned forward, pressing your breasts against him while you fucked him slowly. "Well I'm not ready yet, so don't you dare."

Bradley kissed you softly before pressing the champagne bottle to your lips. "I can be exactly what you need."

--------------------------------

You looked worn out after two balcony orgasms where he had to cover your mouth with his hand. Not only that, but your breast milk was leaking through your dress. 

"Discretion is not our strong suit," he murmured, quickly tucking his cock, sticky with cum, back into his jeans as soon as you let him slip out of your warm pussy. He was sure your thighs were a mess beneath that pretty, floral fabric as you stood there on shaky legs.

He was sitting just like that, with his hand on his zipper and the other one holding the bit of pink champagne that was left in the bottle, when a couple strolled out onto the next balcony over.

Your eyebrows shot up, and you started laughing. "Well, on that note, I hope you're still thirsty, Roo."

"Shit," he grunted, following you back through the door and into the spacious bedroom as you lowered the straps of your dress. When you turned around to face him while wiggling the fabric below your glorious breasts, your brow was pinched with concern.

"They definitely hurt now. I swear they fill up more when I'm aroused."

As you sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked your shoes off, Bradley felt a little dizzy. When you scooted up toward the pillows and eased yourself down onto your back, he could see the drying mess he'd made between your legs as well as the beads of milk overflowing from your nipples.

This had to be something close to heaven. A hot wife, full of his cum, practically begging him to put his mouth on her swollen tits. "Fuck," he groaned, already getting hard again. He was a mess for you. Rosie, too. But knowing you were the one responsible for nearly everything good in his life made him crazy.

He dribbled the rest of the champagne on your skin. "Yes," you hissed as soon as his lips connected with one pert nipple. The two flavors mixed together on his tongue, creating something he knew he'd crave for the rest of his life. Soft sounds somewhere between relief and arousal found the back of your throat while your fingers threaded through his hair. "That feels so much better," you whispered while he lapped up and swallowed down your milk. "Thank you."

He snorted with laughter as he switched sides, running his nose along the warm, sweet smelling valley between your breasts. "This is literally my pleasure, Sweetheart. You don't have to thank me for this." He took your overflowing nipple between his lips and ran his hands along your silky skin while your nails scraped his scalp. "Such a pleasure."

"What are you going to do when I stop lactating?" you whispered.

He wanted to tell you he'd probably cry, but that wasn't even the truth. He let your nipple pop free and teased it with his tongue before looking up at your face. "It's not like I'm going to suddenly not want your tits in my mouth anymore," he promised, making you laugh. "Besides, when you stop lactating, that'll mean Rosie is a toddler, right? There's just too much to get excited about."

"There is," you agreed as he went back to making sure you felt more comfortable. 

When you were sufficiently empty and Bradley was sufficiently full, he curled up with his head on your chest and fell asleep while you played with his hair. There was a smile on his lips when he remembered that he was going to have to do this for you over and over again for the next few days. While he dozed, he dreamed about getting locked in a candy shop overnight where he indulged in everything he wanted before passing out in a tub of gummy bears.

"It's dinnertime," you whispered, tugging on his hair, and Bradley jolted awake. His cheek was a little sweaty and stuck to your skin, and he had to get up slowly as his sleepiness started to fade away.

"Dinner," he grunted, wondering how many calories he was about to consume between a platter of seafood and all of your breast milk. He was going to have to get up early and run tomorrow morning. "Okay, yeah. Let's eat dinner and then drink more champagne while we snuggle."

"Sounds ideal," you replied, sitting up in bed with your tits in his face. He realized that you didn't get completely undressed for him, rather just maneuvering your dress to give him access to your breasts earlier. And now you grabbed a clean sundress from your bag before retreating into the bathroom and pulling the door halfway closed.

He knew you didn't like the way your belly looked now because you'd told him as much, but to him, nothing really changed. You were still you, maybe a little softer. A little rounder. But just as beautiful. He walked right into the bathroom as your dress dropped to the floor, wearing nothing but your soaked underwear. Bradley met your gaze in the mirror as you dug around in your toiletry bag, and he stopped right behind you with his hands on your hips.

"Did you need something?" you asked softly, voice teasing.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, kissing the side of your neck as his fingers drifted across your belly. "I was in such a daze after my nap, I forgot to tell you I love you."

You smiled at him in the mirror as he sloppily kissed your cheek. "I love you, too. Now let me find my pill pack and get dressed for dinner." You rummaged around in your little bag as he continued to hold you. "Huh.... oh, shit." Bradley watched you dump the contents out onto the marble counter he couldn't want to fuck you on later, and you groaned. "I forgot my birth control pills. I can picture them at home on my nightstand."

"It's okay," he replied with a shrug. "I can just pull out." You turned and gave him a bland look. "What?"

"Will you actually do it?" you asked. Bradley realized that you were already full of his cum at this very moment, but he didn't say a word about that as he nodded.

"Of course I will. I told you months ago that I'd pull out if you wanted. Or I can drive home and get your pills. It's only forty-five minutes away."

"No," you replied, clearly wavering. "I don't want us to miss dinner, and the restaurant makes an in-house hot sauce which is absolutely magical. Just pull out this weekend."

He let his chin rest on your shoulder, inhaling the sweet smell of your skin as he nodded. "You got it, Sweetheart."

----------------------------------

I feel as though Bradley made a pretty bold statement there. He's just a kid in a candy shop when it comes to enjoying his life right now. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 26

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[zumicyt]

billie fic where she gets really busy and reader is sad but then billie realizes and slowly but surely fixes things 🥲🥲🥲

hurt/comfort with tiny angst 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

yes!!! omg thank you so much for the request my love 🪷

make me feel okay ● b.e

pairing: billie eilish x fem!reader

contains: angsty sadness 😞 fluff, reassurance, billie comforting reader, i think that's it !!

summary: the last couple of months have been filled with emptiness. billie has been in the studio constantly over working herself and it seems like she has no time left for you.

it was 3am. you were laying in your and your girlfriend's shared bed, but the thing was, she wasn't there with you. she was downstairs in her studio recording music non stop. she never left that room. you wouldn't be surprised if she hasn't slept with you in your bed in weeks. you barely saw her face anymore. it made you feel sad inside. you tried to talk to her multiple times but failed each time because she would just nod her head and shoo you off, not even acknowledging you.

Billie was listening to some of her recording snippets in her studio when she heard the door creek open. she didn't take her eyes off the screen and stayed focus on her music. she sees your reflection in the mirror beside her desk top, but doesn't say anything. "baby I brought you some food, please eat it." you say and kiss her on the head. billie just hums and keeps her eyes glued to the screen. you sigh out of frustration and leave the room. it's been this way for months. you were starting to get sick of it. you look through the small crack in the door and see billie take her eyes off the screen and look at her food. she takes a bite out of her vegan nuggets and you smile knowing she is atleast eating. she takes a sip out of her soy milk and you walk away.

tonight you desired to take a much needed self care night and decided to take a steamy hot shower and cleaned your body very well. after that you tried some expensive face masks that billie bought for you and made an iced coffee. you sat on the couch and turned on Swarm, a show billie was in.

After a few hours, you decided to go lay down for bed. you looked over to Billie's side and saw her not there once again. you missed her. you felt yourself start to tear up a bit, thinking about how things might never be the same between you two.

Billie was in her studio and she felt her eyes getting heavy. she decides to get ready for bed. she's been so busy that she hasn't gotten the best sleep and tonight she has time to lay down next to you. After getting her pajamas on, she heads to your shared bedroom. she hears muffled crying and stops in her tracks. she opens the door slowly to see you bundled up in the covers crying. "Oh baby, what's wrong?" billie sweetly asks you. "billie, do you still love me? do you ever have time for me anymore?" You say through tears. Billie looks at you shocked. "My love, of course I do! I'm so sorry, I've been so caught up on my music I guess I didn't make time for you. I'm so sorry." she kisses your forehead and you hug her tightly. she hugs you back and starts humming to you softly so you can calm down. that night she lets you snuggle up against her and you both fall asleep.

thr next day she cancels her plans to hang out with you. you both go out for icecream and see a movie. After that she takes your shopping and makes you feel special. she promised you that she will do her best to make time for you and that she will do better for your relationship.

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter four a whirlwind of chaos and laughter turns into something much more when Miss Journalist and Hiori Yo can't ignore the spark between them any longer. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader angst, fluff, slightly suggestive (if you squint) masterlist

"And action!"

The marketing manager’s voice slices through the steady crackle of sizzling chicken nuggets.

You’re back in Bastard Munchen’s pristine kitchen. Instead of lounging by the marble island sharing a plate of pot stickers with the players, you’re seated across from Hiori Yo—your favorite football player turned late-night gaming buddy.

For someone who admitted to staying up late last night (because he had to try that newly released game he’s been raving on about), he looks annoyingly refreshed. 

And, frankly, annoyingly fine.

A small round table separates the two of you, modestly set for a casual meal for two, like something out of a cozy café. The kitchen hasn’t changed much for this setup, save for the table serving as an odd centerpiece amidst its sleek, curated kitchen backdrop. The savory aroma of frying chicken nuggets fills the air, mingling with a faint whiff of rain you’re convinced is coming from Hiori.

Your "date" shifts in his seat, snapping you out of your thoughts. He flashes you an easy smile—the kind that promises everything’s going to be just fine. Behind him, the camera crew hovers, accompanied by the marketing manager.

“Hi,” Hiori says softly, his voice charming you like a spell, as if this really is some kind of meet-cute.

“Hello,” you reply, stifling a laugh. But your lips betray you, curling into a smile you can’t quite suppress.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. The silence melts into shared giggles—like kids conspiring over a secret.

And maybe, in a way, you are.

“Ya look great today,” Hiori says, his gaze unwavering. He doesn’t give your outfit a once-over; instead, his eyes stay locked on your face, as though that’s all he needs to confirm your beauty.

“Thanks,” you reply, looking at your outfit consciously. “It’s nice to see you in normal clothes for once.”

Your confidence feels natural today, and you prop your head in one hand, soaking in the sight of him.

“Hmm... Ya make it sound like I wear a costume every time we meet,” he chuckles, tugging at the sleeve of his navy bomber jacket. His eyes flick away for a moment, and you catch the faintest hint of red at the tips of his ears.

Instead of his usual training jersey or the black-and-gold Bastard München kit, Hiori wears a simple black shirt beneath the jacket. It’s a casual choice that shifts his entire aura. You’ve seen him countless times, on and off the field, but almost always in his professional gear.

In your eyes, Hiori Yo has always been the football superstar—someone you interact with because of work, someone you talk to more than most because of work. Someone who probably sees you as just another face in the sea of media professionals.

But today feels different. This little illusion—the cozy setup, the way he leans into the role of your "date"—lets you live out a fantasy. For a moment, it feels like it could be real under different circumstances.

“And you,” you tease, leaning in slightly, “it’s nice to see how you’d dress for a date.”

“I am on a date.” His brows furrow slightly. “We’re on a date.” His voice is calm, his words spoken like an unshakable truth.

For a fleeting moment, he’s not a football superstar, not leagues out of your reach.

He’s just a guy across the table, someone you can picture sharing lazy Saturday afternoons with. Someone you could almost believe is sitting here because of you—and only you.

Before you can reply, Gagamaru steps in with impeccable timing. He sets down a plate of crispy chicken nuggets and furikake fries between you. The golden nuggets glisten under the kitchen lights as he places a bottle of ketchup and two cans of soda on the table.

Right. The shoot.

Just last week, Bastard München’s marketing manager emailed you about joining a new off-season content project. With the players finally on their mid-season break, the team plans a video series to spotlight individual players—to test their broader appeal to fans and potential sponsors.

Their words, not yours.

And the concept of the video you’re being invited for? A one-on-one interview styled like a date, featuring none other than their genius midfielder, Hiori Yo.

Apparently, your last collaboration—the behind-the-scenes “day in the life” video courtesy of JFA—had sparked unexpected chemistry.

It caught fans' attention, stirring days of chatter about you, Hiori, and Bastard München. It isn’t “worldwide trending,” but the buzz is undeniable. The fans just can’t get enough of the surprising, romcom-like moments between you and Hiori.

A lucky journalist interacting with one of the most elusive players of his generation. Shared moments as if it's straight out of a movie.

The dream for every fangirl.

This shoot was an experiment to explore Hiori’s broader appeal, pairing his quiet, understated charm with your relatable, approachable vibe. It’s also an opportunity to spotlight one of their more introverted players, someone who avoids the public eye as much as he can.

Your editor doesn’t hesitate to green-light the project. She’s all-in, shuffling your deadlines and clearing your schedule to make it happen. And her enthusiasm doesn’t even stop there. She nudged you more than once to “just go for it” with the charming midfielder. 

Because, as she so eloquently puts it, “What’s there to lose?”.

And now here you are, playing your part.

Your version of casual date attire: an oversized light-blue button-down (coincidentally matching Hiori’s eyes) left open over a white square-neck cami. It’s nothing flashy, just enough to look the part of someone on a date with someone they like.

“Hmmm, since this is a date, I guess I should start with some date questions,” you say, pursing your lips in mock contemplation. You pull out a small stack of cards the marketing manager handed you earlier and place them neatly beside the plate of food, within reach of both of you.

According to her, the cards are a mix of fun tweets and generic icebreakers designed to spark lighthearted conversation.

Across the table, Hiori munches on furikake fries, watching you with a small smile. His gaze catches yours mid-bite, and you feel a faint flush rise to your cheeks.

Clearing your throat, you decide to jump right into the questions, catching him just as he pops another fry into his mouth.

“Who’s your favorite player?” you ask.

“Easy—Mesut Özil,” he answers without a second’s hesitation.

“Favorite food?”

“Salt-grilled Pacific saury. I even like the bitter parts.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Ready Player One.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really? I didn’t peg you for the geek type.”

Hiori grins, a little sheepish. “Well... I am. Watchin’ it got my otaku heart racin’.”

He leans back, the humor in his tone shifting to something softer. “Shouldn’t ya know that already? I talked yer ear off about Warhammer last time we played together.” He scratches the back of his neck, glancing away as though embarrassed by the admission.

You blink, caught completely off guard. “I didn’t realize it was at that level. I just thought, ‘Oh, Hiori's talking about his interests, that’s cool.’ I didn’t even know what Warhammer was until you brought it up.” You tighten your lips into a sheepish grin, waving your hands in exaggerated defense.

Hiori chuckles, shaking his head.

The moment is interrupted by a sharp cough off-screen. Both of you whip your heads toward the sound, eyes landing on someone in the crew.

“You guys play games together off hours?” someone asks, voice edged with curiosity.

“Yes?” you and Hiori answer simultaneously, far too quickly. Your voices carry the same nervous uncertainty, the shared “yes” echoing awkwardly between you and Hiori.

A beat of silence stretches, and you can feel the marketing manager’s eyes darting between the two of you, brimming with a curiosity you’re sure they won’t voice—at least not now.

As the buzz of the set picks up again, Hiori leans closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Guess we’re both not so good at keepin’ secrets, huh?”

You clear your throat and push forward with the next question.

“What’s your strength?”

“As a person or as a player?”

You pause briefly. “Both, if you can.”

He leans back, thoughtful. “I guess… my ability to see things from a broader perspective.”

“And your weakness?”

“Playin’ too much.” He shrugs lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up in it, I lose motivation for other stuff.”

You’re about to fire off another question when he raises a hand, laughing. “Whoa, slow down! This’s startin’ to feel like a job interview.”

Your cheeks heat instantly. “Oh, sorry! Force of habit—y’know, journalist mode.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your soda to cover your embarrassment.

Hiori gives you a honest to goodness smile, as if amused. “So, this’s ya gettin’ to know me, huh?”

You set the cards down with a huff, deciding to switch gears. Inhaling deeply, you exhale a dramatic sigh. “Soooo… what’s your type?”

“Type of what?” he asks teasingly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Type of person, romantic partner, obviously.”

He tilts his head, giving the question some thought. “Someone who’s independent. I need space to do my own thing, especially when I’m gamin’. Ya know that already.” His gaze softens as it meets yours.

“But they should be there when it counts. Life as an athlete’s hectic—ya’ve seen how it is.”

You nod, pretending to jot down a mental note. “So… low-maintenance. Got it.”

Hiori chuckles, shaking his head. “Not low-maintenance—just someone who understands balance. And maybe someone who doesn’t mind long Monster Hunter sessions.” He smirks knowingly, and for a fleeting moment, the unspoken connection between you lingers in the air, understanding the inside joke.

Your bite your lips, trying not to smile too wide. “Well, that’s… oddly specific.”

Two months of Monster Hunter nights flash in your mind. Ever since Hiori casually suggested playing together, your evenings had been filled with wyvern hunts and co-op quests. He has an uncanny knack for strategy—always two steps ahead, always saving you when things got dicey.

And then there was that time he convinced you to try Nier: Automata. You’d never forget him backseating with a mixture of exasperation and amusement as you struggled to fend off machines as the stunning android 2B.

“No, no, dodge now! Okay, wait—parry—no, don’t roll off the edge!” His laughter still echoes in your mind.

Your expression softens as the memories linger, but you quickly rein yourself back into the present.

“Yer turn,” Hiori prompts, raising an eyebrow as if daring you. “What’s yer type?”

“Oh, uh…” You fidget with the hem of your sleeve, thinking. “I guess... someone kind, who can make me laugh. And…” You hesitate before adding, “Someone who respects my space and time, especially since I’m kind of a workaholic.”

Then, with a pointed glance, you add, “And someone who doesn’t put me on the spot during interviews.”

Hiori bursts out laughing, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Noted. I’ll behave.”

Before you can relax and skim through some of the cards, Hiori throws you a curveball. “What keeps ya goin’ when stuff gets rough?”

You blink, momentarily stunned by the weight of the question. His eyes lock on yours, searching. For a moment, you feel yourself slipping into those deep blue pools.

“Me? Oh, um…” You shift in your seat, unsure how to articulate your thoughts.

“I think it’s knowing I can tell stories that matter—stories that connect people.” You glance away, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s kind of a cliché, I know—”

“It's not,” Hiori interjects, his voice soft but firm. His hand brushes yours briefly on the table, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your fingertips. The sincerity in his gaze holds you in place.

“It shows ya care about what ya do. And that’s what counts, right?”

The warmth in his voice and the light touch of his fingers send heat creeping up your neck. You let the sensation linger for a beat before pulling your hand back, pretending to tuck a nonexistent stray hair behind your ear. The gesture does little to calm your racing thoughts.

Hiori continues, his expression contemplative. “I remember readin’ yer article.”

“Yeah?” You’re genuinely surprised he's bringing it up.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice softening. “The team was in a bad place back then. Greisner wasn’t even talkin' to anyone.” He chuckles awkwardly, and you catch a muffled, annoyed Oi! from somewhere in the background.

“We were playin’ like crap. Everyone could see it—fans, other teams… even us. Felt like it was us against the world.” His gaze flickers to the side, as if embarrassed by his own admission.

You hold your breath, sensing there’s more he wants to say.

“But then someone sent me yer article,” he continues. “At first, I thought, ‘Great, another roast piece.’ But it wasn’t. Ya didn’t tear us apart. Ya saw something in me—”

“In us,” he corrects himself, covering it with a cough.

“It reminded us someone out there was in our corner. That meant somethin’.”

The weight of his words leaves you momentarily speechless. Your hands fly to your mouth as if to contain your shock. “Wow, I had no idea... I’m just... glad I could help in some way.”

“Ya did. More than ya could possibly imagine,” he says simply, his tone carrying a quiet gratitude. “That article reminded us—even when things feel impossible, there’s always a way forward. Whether it’s in football or anything else, progress happens if ya keep trying. Little by little.” He pauses, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Ya told that story.”

Your chest tightens at the honesty in his words. You nod slowly, letting them sink in. “That’s... really... I, uh... That's means a lot, Hiori.”

He shrugs lightly, a small smile playing on his lips as if to downplay the moment. “It’s just how I try to see things.”

A playful glint returns to his eyes as he adds, “Plus, without it, I guess we wouldn’t be here. On this date. Together.”

His sincerity catches you off guard, leaving a warmth blooming in your chest.

Being a journalist has always felt like existing in a strange limbo.

You’re a faceless name, sending your thoughts out into a void, never quite knowing if your words resonate with anyone—or if they even make a difference. It was that wishful thinking, that quiet hope of connection, that drove you to pursue this career despite the doubts you faced years ago.

Hearing Hiori’s words now, realizing that your article didn’t just touch lives but changed them—his team’s and his—fills you with a sense of pride and fulfillment that you rarely allow yourself to feel. It might seem small to others, but to you, it’s everything.

Your gaze drifts to him, gratitude softening your features. His earlier touch still lingers on your fingertips, a faint reminder of the unspoken connection building between you.

I wonder if this is what it feels like... to be in the right place at the right time. To have something just... click.

You clear your throat, shaking the cards in your hand. Loosening up by rolling your shoulders and stretching your arms, a big smile betrays your nonchalance over what you’ve heard.

“Okay, moving on! These are fan questions—filtered and curated, of course.”

Hiori raises an eyebrow. “Curated, huh?”

You shuffle the cards with a sheepish grin and glance at the first one. Without thinking, you read it aloud:

“Hiori, your hands look really nice. Are they soft like how they look in camera?”

Hiori chuckles, holding up his hands as if presenting evidence. “Guess I gotta ask ya.”

“Wha—?!” Your jaw drops. “Me?”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Ya’ve shaken hands with me before, haventcha? So, what’s the verdict? Are they soft?”

You laugh nervously, feeling your face heat up. “I—I am not answering that!”

“C’mon, just settle it.” Hiori laughs, holding his hands out toward you.

Hesitant but unable to resist, you gingerly take his left hand and give it a light squeeze. Your fingers trace his palm as you try to compose your thoughts.

“They’re… huh… I’m surprised. They look soft, but they’re a little rough. Probably because of football, but—”

You stop mid-sentence as Hiori’s playful smile grows wider. Realizing he’s enjoying hearing your thoughts, you let out a dramatic sigh and turn toward the camera.

“They’re soft,” you say flatly, rolling your eyes for effect.

You quickly pick up the next card, only to have your eyes widen in shock. A nervous laugh escapes you as you read it silently, trying to decide whether to skip it.

“Oh, wow. This one’s… bold,” you mutter, clearing your throat.

Finally, you muster the courage to read it out loud: “Bet Hiori is a dom.”

Your voice drops to a whisper by the end, and you dart a glance at Hiori. His expression is a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Do I… do we really have to answer this?” you ask, waving the card toward the marketing manager watching from the sidelines.

Hiori chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting into a teasing smile. “Ya already said it out loud. Too late to back out now.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I regret everything.”

Leaning closer, his voice drops to a playful murmur. “Whatcha think?”

Your head snaps up, and you feel your cheeks go impossibly hotter. “I—I am not answering that!” you stammer defensively.

Hiori leans back, feigning innocence, though his grin betrays him. “Suspicious. Very suspicious.”

Despite your flustered state, you blurt out, “Okay, fine! I guess you are a dom. An ultra sadist.” You pause for a second, biting your lip, wondering if you’ve said too much.

Did I really just say that out loud?

You can feel the heat rush to your face, but there's no going back now.

Hiori, caught mid-sip of his soda, chokes in surprise, coughing violently as he grabs for a tissue. You burst into laughter, hurriedly handing him more while apologizing between giggles.

“Sorry! Isagi told me to say it!” You point accusingly off-camera.

Hiori turns to see Isagi standing next to the monitor, a whiteboard in hand with Hiori = Ultra Sadist scrawled across it in big, bold letters. Behind him, Kurona, Raichi, and Igarashi are doubled over in laughter. Isagi gives an awkward thumbs-up, his boyish grin only making Hiori groan.

“M'going to have a long talk with him later,” he mutters under his breath, earning another round of laughter from you.

Eager to change the subject, you grab the next card, a smile lingering as you read aloud. “Ohh... This one’s fun... ‘Hiori Yo could read the phonebook to me, and I’d still swoon.’”

Tilting your head thoughtfully, you glance at him. “Now I kind of want to test that. Can you actually make a phonebook sound swoon-worthy?”

Hiori pauses in thought and sets his drink aside. His voice dips into a smooth, velvety tone as he says, “Tourist Information Center: 03-3201-3331. For general tourism inquiries, open from 9 AM to 5 PM.”

A small Oooooh escapes your lips. “That was way too good. Are you sure this isn’t your secret side hustle?” .

He chuckles, gaze soft but playful. “Think I should start a hotline? Late-night calls... reading lists... ASMR…” He pauses, his eyes flicking toward you with a teasing glint. “Or maybe something... more exclusive?”

The insinuation isn’t lost on you, and you chuckle, shaking your head. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, hoping the blush isn’t obvious.

“Maybe,” he replies casually in a singsong manner, his smile lingering as he props his face on his hands looking at you.

You take another bite of a chicken nugget, clearing your throat before reading the next card. “Can Hiori teach me football like he taught Y/N? Asking for a friend.”

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a playful grin. “Looks like you’re in high demand, Coach Hiori.”

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, he grins. “M'flattered, but I might already have a favorite student.”

Caught off guard, you blink. “Wait, me?”

His smirk widens as he nods. “Who else?”

You feel heat rise to your face but brush it off quickly. Flipping to the next card, you snort as you read aloud, “Hiori Yo x Miss Journalist content is my new religion. Bless Bastard München’s marketing team.”

You groan dramatically. “Bless them? I think they’re trying to embarrass me!”

Hiori only shrugs, “Or maybe they’re just helping us make memories.”

You shoot him a mock glare. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Of course I am,”

Letting out a small laugh, you glance at the next card. “Okay, here’s another one. Do you guys realize how much chemistry you have?”

Hiori’s lips curl into a faint smile as he looks at you. “Chemistry, huh? Whatcha think?”

Flustered, you glance away, focusing on the cards as if they’re the most fascinating thing in the world. “That’s not for me to say! I’m just reading the questions.”

“But yer the expert, aintcha?” Hiori leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “Observing players, analyzing dynamics…”

You hesitate, heart fluttering at his unexpected intensity.

For a moment, you can’t help but notice how earnest he looks behind his boyish smile. His eyes are warm, his posture leaning in slightly as though waiting for your answer—and it makes the air between you feel charged.

“Well,” you say carefully, your voice quieter now, “I do think we have chemistry. I mean, we wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t vibe, right?”

Grinning, you pick up the last nugget and offer it to him. His gaze follows your hand closely, and as he leans forward to take a bite, you forget just how tall he is and how he's able to reach you immediately,

The proximity catches you off guard, and his lips brush against your fingertips lightly. The brief contact sends a shiver through you, a subtle spark that lingers long after.

His smile widens, an innocent taunt in his expression, but there’s a flicker of something deeper beneath his teasing eyes.

For a moment, everything else fades into background.

Who knew he had such game?

But you don’t falter. Without breaking eye contact, you pop the rest into your mouth, making an exaggerated show of it. His eyes widen slightly, but that satisfied grin never leaves his face, his gaze still lingering on you as if the playful moment hadn’t quite ended.

“Y’know,” he says, settling back. “I almost didn’t do this. Not really a fan of the camera.”

“What made you reconsider?” you ask curiously, your tone light but intrigued.

“It’s work. I might get fired if I don’t do this occasionally, I guess,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck, clearly searching for a better excuse.

A loud snort from the sidelines catches your attention.

“That's bullshit! Hiori immediately said yes when they told him it’s a date with you!” Isagi’s voice cuts through the room, and he doubles over in laughter, clutching his stomach.

Behind him, Kurona and Raichi join in, while Ness and Kiyora peek from the hallway, clearly eavesdropping.

Hiori groans, muttering something about refusing to pass to Isagi in the next game unless he begs for forgiveness.

You smile, shaking your head at the chaos. 

A tap on your shoulder brings you back to the task at hand. The cameraman hands over a few more cards. With a glance at the marketing manager, who gestures for you to continue, you smile and read the next one aloud.

“I will riot if Hiori and Y/N don’t end up together. The ship has sailed whether they like it or not!”

You glance at Hiori with a mischievous smile. The urge to take your teasing to the next level is strong. You wanted to see how far this charade can go. Even if it's just for your own satisfaction.

“Wow, people are so invested. I feel responsible. How do we make sure this ship doesn’t sink?”

Hiori leans forward, his expression mock-serious, lips curling into a teasing smile. “Well, for starters, I think communication is key. Every ship needs a good captain and crew who trust each other.”

He pauses for effect, looking at you pointedly. “Think ya can handle being co-captain?”

Feigning deep thought, you tap your chin. “Hmm, I don’t know. Co-captains have to work really closely together, and I’m not sure if you’re up to my standards.”

A playful gasp escapes him. “Not up to yer standards? I’ll have ya know I’m an excellent team player. Just ask Isagi.”

You both turn to Isagi, who’s still recovering from his earlier fit of laughter. He straightens up, grinning. “Oh, absolutely. Hiori’s great—when he’s not plotting how to leave me stranded on the field.”

“Not helping, Isagi,” Hiori mutters, though his smile doesn’t falter.

The playful tension draws a chorus of cheers and mock whistles from the team. Isagi cups his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Let’s gooo, ship of the year!”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the smile spreading across your face as you glance at Hiori. “Looks like the crew is on board.”

Hiori chuckles, leaning back with a satisfied grin that hints at something deeper. “Then it’s settled. This ship is unsinkable.”

“You’re not allowed to say that!” you exclaim, laughing. “That’s a total jinx!”

The room fills with laughter again, the easy energy between the two of you now impossible to miss. The air feels lighter, but there’s an undeniable current that flows between you, unspoken but clearly present.

With every word, every glance, it feels like you’re navigating uncharted waters together—one small step closer to the edge, yet never quite willing to jump in.

“Miss Journalist, we’ve been friends for a while now, right?” Hiori's eyes narrowing with a suspicious gleam. He’s planning something.

“Yes?” you answer, bracing yourself for whatever comes next.

He leans forward, the innocent yet sly smile never leaving his face. “So, you don’t mind me asking—who’s your favorite player on Bastard Munchen?”

You roll your eyes but keep your playful tone, already ready to play along. “That’s a tough one, but I guess... I’d have to say... Gagamaru?”

“Really? Gagamaru?” Hiori laughs, a teasing edge to his voice. “No offense, Gagamaru.”

You shrug with a mischievous grin, trying to keep up the act. 

“That’s not what other people are telling me, though.” Hiori’s eyes twinkle with something unreadable as he pulls out his phone and swipes through it, then shows you the Winstagram picture of you wearing his jersey. 

Oh, dear lord.

You groan inwardly, but there’s no escaping it now. 

“Fine! You’re... up there,” you admit, laughing but feeling the blush creeping in. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, you continue, “But I’m sure the other guys won’t be too happy to hear that.”

Hiori’s grin widens, clearly enjoying himself. “S'okay. Just wanted to make sure.”

Before you can say anything more, Isagi shuffles over with a mischievous grin and hands Hiori a card. Hiori glances at it, his brow raising slightly before that sly smile stretches across his face. 

Holding it up, he reads aloud. “Okay, last card! Due to popular demand, we dare Hiori to ask the journalist out on camera.”

Your jaw practically hits the floor. “Popular demand? Who’s making these demands?”

Hiori doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leans towards you, a playful smile on his lips, his gaze locked on you. “Should I?”

You try to laugh it off, waving your hands in mock protest. “You don’t have to entertain everything they write, you know!”

But his gaze never falters. In fact, it softens, turning a little more serious, as if he’s letting a moment of sincerity break through the playful tension. “Yeah, but... what if I want to?”

Your heart skips a beat. “W-wait,” you stammer, feeling your composure slip. “Are you serious?”

Hiori tries to close the distance a bit further, the air between you both growing warmer. “Dinner. Just us. No cameras. Whatcha think?”

You blink, entirely thrown off course, and quickly turn to the crew, desperately waving the cards in mock surrender. “C-can we cut this part out? Please?”

From off-screen, the marketing manager’s voice rings out in amusement. “Nope! This is gold—we’re keeping it.”

Groaning, you bury your face in your hands, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief filling you. “Why am I even here?” you mutter, half-laughing, half-horrified.

As the crew starts to wrap up, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. The shoot has been a whirlwind of chaos and laughter—nothing like you expected. But in the midst of all the teasing and jokes, there have been moments.

Small, fleeting moments where the façade of “content shoot” cracks just enough to reveal something real. Something that makes your heart race.

And it scares you. Because as much as you’ve enjoyed... whatever this is, there’s that nagging thought at the back of your mind. This wasn’t part of the plan.

It wasn’t supposed to feel so... real.

For Hiori, it’s equally disarming. At first, this shoot was just another day on the job. But now, as he watches you—how you smile when you try to deflect a question, the way you talk about your work with such genuine passion, how you handle the “shipping” comments with a perfect blend of humor and grace—it hits him.

He’s drawn to you.

It’s not just the playful banter or the way you make him laugh. It’s the way you see things differently, the way you carry yourself with this unexpected blend of wit and intelligence, and how you’re not fazed by the chaos around you.

When you laugh, it’s not forced; it’s real. When you talk about your work, it’s not some canned response. It’s something you actually care about. He’s seen people like you before, but not like this. Not in a way that makes him feel this... interested.

There’s something about the way you navigate the awkward moments, how you’re not afraid to call him out or laugh at his expense, that makes him want to know more. It’s as if, for the first time in a long time, someone has seen beyond his persona—beyond Hiori Yo the athlete—and into the person he is.

And he likes what he sees.

As you gather your things, Hiori stands, his movements unhurried but deliberate, as if the moment has only just begun. The air between you both feels different now—lighter, yet somehow more significant.

For the first time in a long while, he feels like he’s in control, but also... a little unsure. And that feeling, surprisingly, excites him.

“So,” he says, his voice casual but his gaze never wavering from yours, “about that dinner...”

You look up at him, still flustered, but a faint smile creeping onto your lips. You try to deflect, make it sound casual. “You’re really not letting this go, are you?”

But his eyes are different now—softer, more sincere. “Not a chance.”

And in that moment, you see it. You see the shift in him, in the way he looks at you now—not as another journalist, but as someone he genuinely wants to know beyond the surface.

For a second, you can’t find the words. All you can do is laugh softly, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips as you shake your head.

He’s not asking because of a dare or because of a camera. It’s something real, something unspoken but undeniable. And for the first time today, you let yourself stop overthinking. You let yourself just feel the moment.

“Sure, why not?”

Maybe, just maybe, letting your guard down isn’t such a terrible idea after all.

amari's notes: i was kicking, giggling and smiling alone like crazy writing this! I really think these two have a great balance—neither too shy nor too teasing, just kind of testing the waters and seeing where things go. I’m here for it! If you’re up for it, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[dreamauri]

lando noriss' dream collection main masterlist

SOCIAL MEDIA

♪ Just The Eyes — fluff

♪ She Plays Bass — fluff

♪ User Is Typing — fluff + crack

I - II random texts between you and your boyfriend

WRITING

Brush Strokes — fluff

during spending time with your boyfriend on the beach, you decide to use his face to express art

Shh — fluff + smut

you're finally able to attend one of your boyfriend's races and he super exited things get interesting

Life Buoy — fluff

you have to watch a lando mess around

Look At Her — fluff

while on a drive, lando's car breaks down and you're the best mechanic in town

Surprise Surprise — fluff

lando surprises you and you surprise him

You're Such A Good Girl — smut

being clingy and teasing can lead up to something . . .

Need Your Good Luck — smut

Lando hates when you, his good luck charm aren't, able to attended his race, especially after shitty quali. his solution, take all the good luck he can from you right now

Weeeeeeeee — smut

Lando hates when his PR manager gets all grouchy, he does everything he can to make you smile and laugh

Bed Time — fluff

it doesn't matter how much you insist on finishing your work, lando will make sure to drag you to bed and get the rest you deserve

And Chicken Nuggets — fluff

after attending lando's most recent podium at his home grand prix and celebrating at dinner, it's time lando rewards you for being by his side

Can't Be Far — fluff

the world might just end if Lando is 0.0001 centimetre away from you, it's his perfect excuse to stick to your side (780 words)

All I've Ever Wanted - angst

P2 - Stay A Little Longer Lando's playboy image has everyone, including yourself, convinced he's just another guy who sleeps around, until he finally opens up about his feelings that is (482 words)

The One Who Stayed - angst

after your boyfriend dumps you at a club, Lando picks up the pieces, bringing you home and holding you through the night (549 words)

Lando's Favourite Place - fluff

out of anywhere Lando could choose to be in the world, he'd be in your arms kissed and pampered like a baby because who in their right might in this world doesn't want to be cuddled by their girlfriend? (388 words)

Let It Out - angst

Out of all the places Lando could be after a brutal race, the only place he wants—the only place he needs—is in your arms (433 words)

Carried Away - fluff

After a night out clubbing with your boyfriend. And, similarly to every other girl in the club who wore high heels, your feet were aching. So, as your boyfriend, Lando, carried you away. Pun intended in applicable (365 words)

Drunkly, Lovingly - fluff

After going out with lando to a club for funsies and drinks, the Brit's jealousy kicks in after someone tries to hit on you, which somehow finally leads to your first kiss.

HAHA Pranked!! - fluff

because why wouldn't you prank your boyfriend?

Keep Quiet - smut

lando has always been loud in bed—whiny, desperate, completely incapable of keeping quiet when he’s falling apart. and, similarly to every other time you’ve had to clamp a hand over his mouth, he gets a little pouty about it after (961 words)

Rent Free - fluff

Because pranking your boyfriend is fun, why not take it up a notch and give him a heart attack by telling him you can’t pay rent? Except—plot twist—you don’t even pay rent. But it’s Lando Norris, so of course, he falls for it . . . mostly

One More Problem — fluff

Because men yearn too, and Lando is the biggest yearner of them all. He spends his time chasing you, waiting for the right moment, and his reckless charm pulls you in, making you crave him despite your initial resistance. Now, you’re the one chasing him, unable to resist the pull he’s had on you all along (3.7k words)

Oh Honey Honey — fluff

lando finds you a little to sweet and delicious sometimes that he can't just help himself from a little taste (244 words)

Never Ever Getting Rid Of Me — dark fic

Your world starts shifting in the smallest ways—laundry folded when you never touched it, bills paid without your input, and letters signed with a name you shouldn’t know. By the time you finally try to run, it’s too late—Lando Norris is already there, waiting, ready to remind you that you were never going to leave (2.8k words)

SERIES

And They Were Streamers — fluff

After unexpectedly making a new friend during a stream, Lando finds himself addicted to playing video games with this girl who he can't get out of his head. His addiction gets worse when he somehow finds himself yearning for her company, eager to spend time with her in any shape or form, whether it's online or maybe possibly in person.

HEADCANNONS / BLURBS

♪ 5 Senses , your lovers and you series

MOOD BOARDS

[ empty ]

[mushroommanstan]

I’m leaving

(Angst to fluff)

Shigaraki x reader

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

“I’m leaving, Tomura.”

Shigaraki startled, jumping slightly in his chair as he immediately paused his game and took off his headphones.

He looked at you cautiously, as if confused by your choice of words. As if there was some obvious double meaning to what you just said that you hadn’t realized.

“O-ok.” He said. “Where are you going?”

You just chuckled at his innocence, a harsh, belittling, non-genuine chuckle as you tilted your head to the side.

“No Tomura.” You started, taking on a teasing tone as you stared at him with a wide, devious smile. “I’m leaving you. I’m going somewhere that isn’t near you. It’s over, we’re done.”

Tomura almost couldn’t comprehend what you were saying, the room filled with tense silence as he tried to piece together reality.

His eyes watered, his game controller collapsing to the floor forgotten. “What are-what are you saying? What… why-“

You chuckled again, confidently sauntering over to him as you grabbed his chin, relishing the look on his face. He looked like a kicked puppy. “Cmon, did you really think I could love you? A creepy, pervy freak with a kill count higher than his intelligence? You’re not that stupid are you?”

Tears clumped in his eyes but he still said nothing, looking you in the face as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening. This was all happening so fast!! So-so out of the blue!!

This is a joke right? This has to be a joke, albeit a messed up one. I mean, you two had spent the last night feeding chicken nuggets to each other, playing Mario kart and 69ing until you both passed out from exhaustion. There’s no way you can just say you never loved him after you-

“I’m not joking Tomura.” You laughed, roughly letting go of his face after seeing the last glint of hope extinguished. “Last night? That was just my way of building you up so that you’d hurt all the more when I knock you down. How does it feel? Hmmm? You fucking rat bastard?”

Still, he said nothing. Tears finally fell from his eyes, wetting his cheeks as he looked at you in utter betrayal. You couldn’t believe it. He-he thought he’d finally learned how to love again. How to-how to be loved. He-he thought, he-

He sobbed, letting out a horrible wail of sorrow as he bunched his hair into his fists, pulling at his scalp as a tsunami of despair consumed him. He dropped to his knees, tears dripping from his face and splattering on the floor as he looked at you for what could be the last time. You were smirking, utterly amused.

You let out a little ‘hmph’ in satisfaction of his disheveled state, before turning around of your heel and trying to leave. His hand stopped you, forcefully grabbing your wrist.

“Wait”, he said, rising from his knees and looking at you desperately. “I-I-need… I need jus’ one last kiss… before you leave. I-just-just… one last time. Please.”

You struggled in his grasp, clawing at his hand as he yanked you towards him.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME ASSHOLE!!!” You yelled, doing a full body struggle as he overwhelmed you with his strength, and although he said ‘please’, he made it clear he wasn’t going to let you go without this last goodbye.

Against your wishes, you then found your lips pressed against his, his other hand on the back of your head keeping you still. He could feel his tears and snot rubbing onto your face but he didn’t care, continuing to sob as you retched against his lips.

His tongue invaded your mouth, sucking your tongue into his as he savored your taste for one last time. You tasted… you tasted… weird. Like, bad weird. Unfamiliar and sour. He let out a little grunt in confusion, his brows furrowing as he tried to wrap his head around your unusual taste. What…?

Just then the door to his room flew open and he immediately ripped himself off of your lips in shock. There in the doorway was a panicked Toga and… you?

His eyebrows furrowed again in confusion, looking back and forth between the you in the doorway and the you in his hands. One had her hands covering her mouth, eyes watering as she met his confused gaze while the other tried to spit his residue out of her mouth, gagging.

Just then Toga ran over, slashing her out of his hands with her knife while you, the real you, ran over as well and held his face in your hands, wiping away his tears. “Are you alright?” You muttered, but Tomura didn’t reply.

You had been struggling to get out of your restraints when you heard his anguished cries, Toga finally finding you in the closet and freeing you before you both went to help Tomura. When you opened the door you were shocked to see him kissing another version of you, but even more shocked to see the tears flowing down his face. Tomura never cried. God, what did that bitch do to him?

Toga interrupted you two, manhandling the hero who had dropped her disguise in the fight and now had her wrists pressed against her throat as she gasped for air. “I’ll take care of her. Looks like you two have some catching up to do.” Toga said, before forcing the bitch out of their room and closing the door, a blood curdling scream that slowly got quieter following as Toga dragged her off towards the door.

You could both hear Toga yell “Hey guys! ‘Got a new toy to play with!” To which Dabi replied with “Aw hell yeah!” Before the bitch hero’s screams quickly filled the air.

Tomura held the hand that rested against his face, tears still flowing freely down his face.

“Oh my god I’m so, SO sorry baby this-this bitch, she surprised me and tied me up in the closet and turned into me and-and oh my god what did she do to you baby are you alright?”

He still didn’t answer, opening his mouth to speak but only letting out gasping breaths as he broke down, trembling violently. Sure, he was relieved to know what fake you had said was a lie, but like waking up from an especially horrible nightmare, it did little to soothe him as he tried to calm down.

You’ve never seen him so vulnerable… how the hell did she even manage to do this? Like you said, you’ve never even seen a single tear fall down his face before, what could she have possibly have done to him?

Finally, he was able to find his voice, and you watched as he opened his mouth yet again and meekly said “h-h-h-hold me…”

You felt your own tears gathering as you pulled him in for a big hug, running your hands up his back as he cried into your shoulder.

He spoke again. “C-cuddle me.” You both flopped down onto his bed, you taking over as the big spoon as you felt his legs wrap around your hip.

“P-p-pet my hair.” Your hand lifted from his back and took his pearly locks between your fingers, gently combing through his blue curls as his sobbing simmered down into sad little sniffles and he began calming down.

After a minute of soothing, he finally looked up at you, eyes red and puffy and clearly tired as he asked one final request. “Tell me you love me.”

You offered a sad smile, pulling his face back into your chest as you continued to pet his hair. “I love you more than words could ever describe Tomura. I love you and I need you like I need air, you’re the light of my life and I’d just die without you.”

He sighed, his trembling finally ending as he placed trust in your words. “I will never, ever leave your side I promise you that, even if I die I’ll still be right there with you. I love you that damn much baby.”

He nodded, emotionally exhausted as he melted into your touch, his eyes sore and weary as they fought to stay open. “I love you so damn much too y/n. I-I love you so much.” He croaked, and you kissed him on his head as the two of you let each others warm embrace, and the melodic sound of the heroes wails in pain drift you both off to sleep.

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

Aftermath:

After a quick nap you and Shigaraki went downstairs to find the hero tied up like you were in the same ropes as the league all took turns enacting their revenge upon her. After watching them torture her for a bit, you two headed back up to his room with some microwaved comfort food, feeding each other once more before you helped him forget her taste by kissing him deeply, just how he liked it.

He couldn’t even begin to describe the relief he felt when he was met by your oh so familiar flavor, helping him rest assured that you were, really, the real you. Then you helped him forget all about her, forget everything but the immense pleasure you were giving him as you bounced on cock, singing his praises as this time, he cried in happiness.

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

I’ve had this in my queue for a while now, so I decided to post it now because I like it, and I’m not feeling like writing anything else for a lil bit. I’m still working on those Tenko asks though, don’t worry

[writersnook11]

I'd Wait Forever

Life Day Exchange 2024

@lonewolflupe @cloneficgiftexchange

Word Count: 5.5k+

Warnings: 18+ but no smut, no use of Y/N, SFW, grief, mentions of death and lack of closure, denial, angst, mentions of corruption, mentions of Order 66, emotional reunion, fluff, kisses, holiday activities, mentions of a tiny square box with a very specific purpose

Summary: After Fives’ death, you’re not sure what to do with yourself. Your last conversation with Fives left you confused, scared, and reeling with its implications. You learn to live with your grief, and when the Republic is replaced by the Empire, you decide to leave Coruscant. You move to the place you and Fives had intended to live after the war, choosing to face head on what could have been. Months later, an unexpected visitor arrives.

Disclaimer: I should note I’m not 100% sure of the amount of time that passed between Fives’ death (canonically) and Order 66. In writing this I took a creative liberty in saying it was several months, please forgive me if that’s wrong. But also, this is fanfiction, so *shrug*, anything goes sometimes. I think a timeline issue in this case is a minor thing, but I at least wanted to be upfront about my doubt. I also don't know if the GAR troops were paid, but in this case they were, albeit extremely minimally.

Gift Note: Happy Holidays! Lupe, I hope you like it! I went a bit crazy with the angst but I hope the fluff makes it worth it. I read your About Me and stuck a nugget or two in there for you specifically. It's not perfect by any means, I'd edit this for months if I could. Also, I'm not sure if you use Spotify, but during the writing process I made a mood playlist/soundtrack and I'd be glad to share it with you if you're interested! Anyway happy reading, let me know what you think! <3

AI Notice: My consent to any and all use of my work in training AI is expressly withdrawn. Do not use my work in training artificial intelligence.

It had taken a matter of weeks for your world to turn upside down.

You longed for those hushed whispers of comfort, his rumbled assurance that he’d be back before you knew it. You desperately craved his arms around your waist again, holding you close and hanging on like you’d never let go, both of you warm and safe. 

Part of you didn’t believe it. How could you? He called you only hours beforehand, a rushed warning of something you couldn’t quite understand. 

Be ready to leave the second I get home, all those plans we made to move? We’re doing it now—

Fives wait—

Listen to me, okay? There’s something big happening, I can’t explain it all yet, I don’t have much time—

Fives you’re scaring me, what are you talking about? What’s happening?

Don’t be afraid, sweetheart, I’ll be home soon and we’ll get far away from here, just like we said we would.

Yeah, but that was after the war— is it over? Will it be over soon? Is that what you’re saying? 

No— I— I can’t tell you or I’d be putting you in danger.

What? You better tell me what the hell is going on, right now.

I can’t—

Fives!

A beat of silence. 

Dammit… Listen, you can’t repeat this to anyone, and I mean anyone, okay? Not Rex, not Fox, not Commander Tano, no one. Not until I give you the all clear. Got it? 

Okay, I hear you… 

The Kaminoans put something in every clone. Every clone. And it can control us. It’s an implant in our brains. Tup’s malfunctioned, that’s why—

Control you? What? Fives I’m confused—

This goes deeper than I ever thought possible. I don’t know what to— Kriff. I have to go—

Fives be safe! I can’t—

I love you baby, see you soon.

You were beyond confused and scared, but Fives was one of the best troopers in the GAR and you knew better than to doubt him. You trusted him more than anyone in the galaxy. You did as he told, if not to comfort yourself then him. 

You were waiting in the living room of your tiny Coruscant apartment, bags packed by the couch, when the Guard knocked on your door.

How could you believe them? 

This wasn’t in the plan. 

His funeral wasn’t like any you’d ever attended. It was lumped in with hundreds of his brothers fallen in combat, more like a memorial than anything. You went through the motions numbly, half-heartedly acting the part of a grief-stricken loved one because you still couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. Something in the way Fives had told you about behavioral implants, the war being fabricated; you didn’t trust many people anymore, even clones. It didn’t help that no one could meet your eye; not Rex, not Kix or any of the 501st. Maybe they felt responsible somehow. Survivor’s guilt, perhaps. You simply couldn’t believe Fives was dead. 

Weeks went by. Everyone looked at you with such sympathy. Rex even called to check in or visited when he was able, however rare that turned out to be. 

When months went by and there was still no word from Fives, you started to believe them. Maybe he was truly gone. He wouldn’t leave you this long without at least a word of comfort, even an acknowledgment or letter.

You returned to work, pouring yourself into it, saving money and filling your days as best you could while you hoped and waited to be wrong. Sometimes you’d pass by clones on shore leave, laughing and making merry. You’d see glimpses of him in his brothers, hear him in their voices. Those days you couldn’t help but wonder if any of them had known him, if they’d had a chance to hear him out. You often thought about his last days, especially the few hours after he comm’d you. Was he afraid? Angry? How deep did this go? You wanted to ask Rex, General Skywalker, anyone and everyone who was near him in his final days. Before you had the chance to speak to them again, everything Fives said to you in that call coalesced. 

The fall of the Jedi Temple, eliminated by Republic clones, and the emergence the Empire. Headlines that shook you to the core. 

You knew good and well the Jedi would never turn against the Republic, Fives had told you too much about them. You also knew just as well that the clones would never turn their backs on the Jedi without a second thought. No creature in the galaxy could meet a more loyal band of brothers. Behavioral implants suddenly made a frightening amount of sense. 

You didn’t like what this implied about the Republic, what it had been under the surface all along. When the Chancellor seemingly declared himself Emperor, you knew where the galaxy would head. You’d read too much about such governments. All too soon, free thoughts even as simple as questioning a new policy would be deemed threats to democracy, threats to the Empire. Any and all of which would be punished, if not eliminated entirely. 

You thought back to your final call with Fives, how he’d said telling you those things would put you in danger. If his last words to you ended up a warning without him ever knowing truly what would transpire, you wanted to make sure it wasn’t in vain. It had to be worth something, even if that only meant your escape from a corrupt regime. 

The night of Emperor Palpatine’s inaugural address would be your last spent on Coruscant. 

The instinct to run away was a powerful one, one you had never felt so tangibly. You spent the larger part of the night packing and repacking your bags, trying to dwindle your life down to the bare necessities for starting over. When you finally slept, you tossed and turned, waking in the morning feeling like you’d have been better off not sleeping at all. 

With one bag over your shoulders and one in hand, you turned to give that dingy, budget apartment a last once over. At first, you looked to make sure you didn’t miss anything you wanted to take. You’d never be coming back, after all. But then you were watching Fives sneak up on you while you were making dinner, food flinging to the ceiling as you shrieked. Then you were falling all over him, giggles and exclamations of surprise filling the room. You watched how his hands fit perfectly on your hips, sliding up your waist to your back to envelope you in a tight hug, your kisses peppering his face. Your lips fell on his, humming contentedly and standing there together in bliss. Then dinner started burning and you had to practically tear his arms off to get to the stove, a wide grin never leaving his face. 

A tear slid down your cheek, one you brushed away with the palm of your free hand. You couldn’t bear the thought of a whole life without him. 

You pushed that memory to the back of your mind, turning on your heel and locking the door behind you. At the front office you turned in your key, bidding farewell to the only office manager you actually didn’t mind. She asked if there was anything she could do, but you shook your head and assured her there were just too many memories in that apartment now. She gave you a knowing nod and you told her about the rest of your belongings, that she could sell or donate or throw away the rest. She asked if she should leave it as is for a while, in case you changed your mind. You shook your head again. 

You’d never be coming back, after all. 

Clouds of dust billowed as you dropped your bags in the doorway, making you cough. Carefully, you made your way through the foyer into the living room, then into the kitchen, stepping over rotted floorboards and soft spots. You assessed needed repairs as you went, cringing as the list grew. 

It was worse than when you and Fives bought it. Granted, there were already numerous issues when you put down an offer. That was the main reason you were able to get it so ridiculously cheap. It wasn’t like they paid clones well. Now you’d just spend an arm and a leg repairing everything, and hopefully get it finished before winter. 

You ran a hand across the window over the kitchen sink, barely brushing enough dirt away to see the barn clearly. You stepped back and made your way to the mudroom, walking out back to take a look at the yard. Fenced in (if you could call what remained a fence), the barn stood several hundred units behind the house. It was weathered and worn by time and lack of tending, standing nearly twice the size of the main house. Its hayloft was in desperate need of new supports and the whole thing in need of new siding. 

You sighed, turning on your heel to head back inside. Crossing through the mudroom again, you looked to the stairs leading to the second floor. Sheets of wallpaper, fallen from upstairs, laid across the steps. As you climbed the stairs, you leaned over and crumpled up what was in your way, having to tear some the rest of the way from the wall. 

The second level was not in much better shape than the first. Of the two small bedrooms and one large, only about ten units of wallspace still held wallpaper. The refresher needed serious TLC to the plumbing, the sink running brown for the first ten minutes of waterflow. When it finally ran clear, it only ran cold. 

You pinched your lips together and let out an exasperated sigh. After retrieving your bags from the front door, you marched upstairs and began getting settled as best you could. At least you brought one of Fives’ old bedrolls.

You spent your first few weeks getting the most pressing repairs in the house finished. Plumbing, replacement floorboards on the ground floor, and leaks in the roof patched up just in time for the rainy season. You got your hands on some budget furniture to fill the emptiness, met with neighbors though they were a mile away, and familiarized yourself with the village even further down the road. As much as you could, you kept your days busy. 

Nights, however, were always lonely. That’s when the longing settled back in. Missing him, his company and warmth, the life in his smile that filled your soul with purpose. Laying alone in the bed meant for you two was more draining than you expected. You thought getting away from Coruscant would be more of a fresh start than this. You’d hoped your grief wouldn’t follow you this closely. 

You often found yourself just… angry. 

Who was responsible for taking away millions of clones’ free will? Who was responsible for taking away the future you and Fives had dreamt up? What political scumbag took away your goodbye? 

You established a routine. Breakfast, wash up, chores. Stop into town if needed. Lunch. Work on the house and the land. Wash up again, start on dinner. Sit on the porch with your meal, watch the sun go down, and go to bed. 

It wasn’t elaborate or set in stone. You’d alter any of it when needed, but you knew you needed consistency. You wanted it, even. Anything to take your mind off Fives and the Empire. 

Month by month, your old house tucked in the woods became more of a home. It wasn’t so empty, dusty, or broken anymore. No more leaks, peeling walls, or rough spots in the floors. Good, kind neighbors pitched in to help where they could, mainly with the heaviest lifting. The Apande’s down the road helped put in—forget just supports—an entire new hayloft. With things shaping up, you were able to find peace in many things you hadn’t been able to living on Coruscant. 

Each morning you could listen to the world around you waking up. Birds would start singing just as sunlight struck the treetops. Light filtered in through thin, floating curtains, shadows of branches and leaves dancing across your wall. In the summer you’d sit on the porch steps, counting fireflies and listening to crickets. When autumn came you reaped your first harvest in the garden, albeit small, and felt immense pride in what your hard work produced. When the first snow of the season fell you couldn’t help but stare at it in awe. You must have sat on the porch for an hour, watching flakes twirl around each other, hot mug in hand. 

Each of those peaceful moments were supposed to be spent with Fives. You often imagined him sitting next to you, wondering what he’d say or do, if he’d try to catch fireflies and how many he’d beat you by. You wondered if he’d experienced snow before, if he’d have the same light in his eyes that you did when he first saw it fall. Over time it became less of a bitter ache for what could have been, and more of a sweet gratitude for his memory, for having the ability to imagine him there at all. In turning that broken down house into a home, you could grieve and start to come to terms with the future you’d never have. But as time approached your first Life Day without Fives, it was like the whole grieving process restarted. 

You never had the chance to celebrate together. He was always deployed. You never complained, he was where he was needed, but you were always a little downcast. You’d rather him be home with you than at risk of being shot by some Separatist droid.

You delayed decorating longer than you ever had. By the time you went to town to get a tree, nearly the entire lot had been sold. You thought about trekking into the woods surrounding your home to find one, but they were almost guaranteed to be too tall or wide to fit through either door. So, you brought home the best one you were able to scrounge up out of the last pickings. It was a bit scrawny, with thin spots here and there, but it was soft and sturdy and could—without a doubt—fit through your door. 

You cried when you finally got it settled in the living room. He would’ve loved the smell. He would’ve gotten sap all over himself, cursing how it stuck to everything and was so hard to wash off, but loved it all the same. He would’ve loved the crackling of wood in the fireplace, how different it was from the hustle and bustle of traffic on Coruscant or blaster-fire in the field. You could see him thundering into the mudroom, arms full of logs for the fire, stomping as much snow off his boots as he could. He’d look up at you, nose red from the cold, and smile that smile that made your face flush, heart flutter, and stomach do backflips. 

You’d gotten good at building fires. The house didn’t have an electric heating system. Pipes of water ran through the floors, warmed by the furnace in the kitchen. You’d often come back from trips to the village and find it completely cold. You considered yourself lucky; one of your neighbors taught you to split wood. Most of the time he provided it himself, on account of his darling wife (who swore up and down she’d teach you to bake the spiced apple pie her grandchildren loved). All you had to do was carry it to the house from the barn. Granted, it was a trek through almost knee-high snow to get it, but you’d rather that than freezing. 

You still hadn’t decorated your tree by Life Day’s Eve. You didn’t have the heart to, so the boxes sat in a corner. You avoided walking through the living room altogether. The very thought of the tree got shoved to the back of your mind, having almost intentionally forgotten the whole reason you bought it in the first place. You could heal your Life Day heart another year. 

Instead, you filled your time helping your sweetheart neighbors in preparing for their guests. She asked for your help the week before, assuring you it’d be then that she’d teach you to make that blessed pie. You stood in the kitchen with her from dawn to dusk, measuring and mixing and getting covered in flour. By sunset, a full day’s meals and feast awaited the next morning’s oven. 

She thanked you profusely for your time and help, insisting you join them for Life Day festivities. You assured her that you were grateful for the invitation, but didn’t want to intrude on her family gathering. She persisted again, citing her fear that you two made too much food, and you relented to join them for dinner. She smiled gleefully, ushering you out the door. 

The walk home wasn’t quite as lonely as you expected. Sure, your shoulders were weighed down a good bit that Fives wouldn’t be there, but you felt a little lighter. 

Snow crunched beneath your feet. You shivered in a particularly cold gust of wind, hugging your coat tighter on yourself to shield against it. The house is going to be freezing. 

As you made the turn onto your drive, you immediately headed for the barn to get more wood for the furnace. Approaching the pile, you huffed a few breaths on your hands to warm them and heaved several logs into your arms. You followed the path back to the house and into the mudroom, dropping your haul to the floor before shaking snow from your coat and boots. 

You leaned over to untie your boot laces when it struck you.

The house was warm. 

You wrinkled your brow in confusion. Had you put that much wood in the furnace before you left? Surely not, you were gone all day, it’d still be burnt out. It should’ve been cold. 

Footsteps sounded from the living room, shooting a cold lightning bolt of fear down your spine. You fought the urge to freeze, flattening yourself against the wall adjacent to the living room door. Heart pounding, you peeked around the frame. The light was on. When you saw no one, you darted into the kitchen, careful to keep your footfall light. 

You went straight for the furnace, grabbing the firewood poker from its rack. Your knuckles whitened, poker gripped tightly against you. 

You rounded the corner of the dining room, holding your makeshift weapon in front of you. Still you saw no one. You frowned, wondering if you’d been mistaken. 

You stepped through the foyer, hands shaking with adrenaline. No footsteps and no shadows. 

Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to the living room. Still you saw no source of the footsteps you could’ve sworn you heard. 

A floorboard creaked behind you, sending your heart into your throat as you gasped and whipped around. 

Fives, wrapped in grungy blacks and holey socks, raised his hands in defense. 

The room spun and you faltered backward, your grip on the fire poker loosening as it clattered to the floor. You raised both hands to your head, gripping your own hair and trying to make sense of what you were seeing. 

He took a step toward you. “Hey,” he rasped. 

You held a hand out in a gesture to stop, falling to your knees. 

He stopped and stood his ground, fighting an overwhelming instinct to run to you and swaddle you in his arms. 

Countless tears slid down your cheeks, hands shaking for an entirely different reason this time. You pressed your palms into your eyes and rubbed them. Blinking hard, you looked back to him. “How? How are you here? Alive?” 

Fives took a tentative half-step toward you, kneeling down closer to your level. “It’s a long story,” he said softly. “I had to protect you from—” 

You launched yourself at him, knocking him to the floor as your arms swung around his middle. His arms were quick to wrap around you, hugging you close like he would soon wake up and you’d be long gone. 

Your body shook with sobs, forehead pressed into his chest and fists balling up in the back of his shirt. He held you, rubbing your back and planting gentle kisses atop your head, until your shaking stilled and breathing grew more even. 

Even after you calmed down, you stayed where you were, both of you relishing the familiarity of each other after so long. You tilted your head to look at him, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that he was even alive. 

“I’m so sorry I’ve been gone so long. There’s so much to tell you,” Fives broke the silence quietly, meeting your gaze. 

You sighed, reaching up to hold his cheek in the palm of your hand. He leaned into your touch, cupping your hand in his. “You can start with how you’re alive,” you spoke, voice trembling. “I mourned you, Fives. I– I really thought I’d never see you again.” 

Fives brought his hand to your face, wiping away a fresh tear with his thumb. “I know, Rex kept me updated as best he could.” He averted his gaze, shifting into a thousand yard stare. 

A thousand more questions ran through your mind, but you said nothing, letting him find the words. 

After several beats passed, he inhaled and exhaled deeply. “I was trying to find anyone who would listen and believe me, but… well, that’s an even longer story. I was sure the Chancellor would listen, but I was wrong. He was part of it.” Fives paused again, a pained look passing across his face. “I got shot. And I was dead, for a bit, but Kix got me back. Rex thought it was best to keep it quiet, after everything.” 

Your breath hitched, fresh tears welling up. “Even from me?” 

Fives turned his head back to you, hand returning to your cheek. “I hated to, but it was the best option to protect you from the same people who wanted me dead. Anyone who knew what I knew was in danger.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “Once I healed, I spent every waking moment making sure they wouldn’t come after you.”

Your lips trembled and you pressed your face back into his chest, another embrace swallowing you both. You flattened both hands to his back, breathing in his memory-laden smell. 

“After the Empire took over and things started settling down, I went back to the apartment,” Fives mumbled. “Shira never rented it back out, everything was how you left it.” 

You pulled away and sniffled. “Really?”

He nodded. “I guess she hoped you’d come back.” He shifted and reached behind him, fishing a folded slip of paper from his back pocket. “I wish I could thank her, I was able to grab this.” 

Fives held the paper out to you. You took it between two fingers and unfolded it, revealing a real, printed photo of you and the entire Domino squad, back when you and Fives had first gotten together. You had the holo-copy, but left the printed one behind for the sake of space and anonymity in your travels. 

You were rendered speechless, absently thumbing the edge of the photo. “I can’t… I can’t believe it.” 

Fives grinned. “Of all the things that happened today, the picture is what you can’t believe?” 

You chuckled and smacked his arm, a smile breaking across your face. 

Fives’ grin broadened.  

“Why come here now?” You asked, looking back up at him from the photo. “You said you went back when things started settling down. It’s been over 6 months, has it really been that chaotic?” 

Fives shook his head. “Things settled in pretty quickly, at least on Coruscant. Rex survived. I was able to meet with him, and we started helping our brothers that didn’t want to serve the Empire.” 

You hummed in response, turning back to the photo in your hands. He watched your eyes go from each member of the squad to the next, remembering them solemnly.

He whispered your name, drawing your attention back to him. Tears shone in his eyes. “I thought you left, really left.” His voice cracked, a drop sliding down his cheek. “I thought maybe you’d gone off to start a new life.” 

Your jaw fell slightly agape as you sat rooted to the spot, a bit astonished. You set the photo to the side and sat up, shuffling yourself to look him in the eyes.  “Fives, you are my life. If I had to spend the rest of my days alone, hoping and waiting for you to come back to me, I would.” It was your turn to wipe the tears from his cheeks. Your heart ached at the longsuffering now evident in his eyes. “It was always in the plan to live in this house together. I came here to escape the Empire and to try to heal, not move on from you altogether. I don’t think I could ever manage that.” 

Fives’ breath quivered. He cupped the nape of your neck in both hands, pulling you closer to rest his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you rested a palm on one of his hands. He tilted his head almost imperceptibly, breath mingling with yours. Your noses brushed against each other, lips tingling at the closeness. Slowly, tenderly, as if he was afraid of hurting you, he inched his lips closer until they met with yours. 

You had kissed him hundreds of times, but none of them came close to the warmth and relief and comfort that settled in your bones with that kiss. You were quick to lose your breath, pulling away gasping for air yet longing for another. 

Fives hovered inches away, catching his breath as you did. His eyes drifted open, gaze soft and dazed. 

You brought a hand to his chin, running a finger over his lower lip. “I’ve missed kissing you,” you sighed. 

He chuckled and grasped your hand, massaging your palm with his thumb. “You have no idea.” 

You both froze as an unmistakable rumble erupted from Fives. You burst into a fit of laughter, a sheepish grin tugging at Fives’ mouth. 

“Hungry?” You laughed, standing to your feet and offering out your hands for him. 

“As a rancor,” He confirmed, taking your hands and standing without tugging them. 

You spent the following couple hours cooking a quick meal together, including the pie your neighbor taught you, which filled the house with the warm scent of cinnamon. You paused occasionally for a kiss or a brief cry. The amount of joy and relief surging through your mind, body, and soul sometimes became overwhelming. Fives was dead, yet, there he stood. In your house that could now truly become a home. Your bed would no longer be half empty. Your table would be one plate fuller. All this, and you could hardly believe it was true. 

“Why is it naked?” 

Fives’ question jarred you from your thoughts. You looked to him, standing in the living room staring at the Life Day Tree. 

“Oh.” You stood from the table and moved to stand next to him. “Well, it didn’t feel right decorating it without you here.” You answered plainly. 

He turned his gaze to meet yours. “But we’d never decorated one together before, why not this one?”

You looked at your feet, slightly embarrassed at the scrawny condition of the tree, though Fives didn't question that. “Because we were supposed to do everything here together. I fought through everything else, but this… I don’t know— it just didn’t feel right.”

Fives grabbed ahold of your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Well I’m here now.” 

You smiled softly, giving his hand a return squeeze. “Yeah, you’re here now.” 

Fives turned in place, looking around the room. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” He released your hand and took a few paces. “Did you do all of it by yourself?”

You shook your head. “No, some neighbors helped, and a couple things were too far out of my scope so I hired help from in town.” You shuffled to the door frame, leaning against it. “It was a lot, but it was all I could do to keep from losing my mind.” 

Fives stopped and stood in place, looking at you with eyes so full of regret you wondered if he held an entire galaxy’s worth of guilt. 

You pushed yourself off the frame and crossed the room in large strides, wrapping your arms around him. “Don’t think like that,” you whispered, “You’re here now.” 

He sighed and draped his arms around you, accepting your reassurance. “How do you always know,” he relented. 

Fives jolted suddenly, interrupting the embrace to point at a box in the corner, something shiny glimmering between the edges of cardboard. “What’s that?”

You turned to look at what he was referring to and opened your mouth to answer, but Fives beat you to it, crossing the room and opening the lid. He looked back to you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Can we?” 

You sighed and tried to bite back a smile, ultimately failing. “Fives, it’s late, can we do it in the morning?” 

“Come on,” he droned playfully, “What’s the use of having it dressed up for one day?” 

Crossing your arms in mock indecision, you brought a hand to tap a finger on your chin. “But if we leave it up for a month, it’s the same, isn’t it?” 

Fives picked up a bundle of lights, unspooling it. “No,” he deadpanned. 

You scoffed out a laugh, marching over to join him. 

The remainder of the evening was spent dolling up your dinky little Life Day tree. You taught Fives how to put lights on without leaving dark spots, how to attach hooks to ornaments and space them out, and how to top it. By the time it was finished, you were so exhausted from the day you were starting to see double. 

You and Fives plopped yourselves down on the sofa, cheap as it was, and leaned back to admire your handiwork. 

“Not bad, for a Life Day Tree shiny,” you smirked lazily. 

Fives gasped, looking at you as if offended. “You take that back!” 

You raised your hands weakly in defense. “I said not bad!” 

He grinned and threw an arm around the back of the sofa. You scooted over to lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder. 

You both sat in silence for a while, a delicate kind of reverence settling over you. You both knew the magnitude of this Life Day in particular. You had each given each other a new meaning for the day. You, giving him a reason to fight on and live. And him, giving you a reason to celebrate life; the fact that he was still alive and with you, namely. 

Eventually, Fives opened his mouth to break the silence with a question, but froze when he glanced at you. You were passed clean out, mouth slightly ajar. Fives chuckled softly, enamored by the way the light of the tree danced across your skin. 

Carefully, he slid his arm behind your shoulders and the other below your knees. As he stood and scooped you in his arms, you stirred, mumbling that you could walk before promptly falling back asleep. 

Fives carried you through the living room, the mudroom, and upstairs to the bedroom, leaning to gently settle you on the bed. One by one, he unlaced and tugged your boots off, followed by your socks, then tucked you under the blankets. After placing a featherlight kiss to your head, he turned and headed back downstairs. 

Fives made sure the doors and windows were closed and locked, refilled the furnace, and made his way back to the foyer. He reached into his coat pocket, retrieved what he needed, and stepped back into the living room. 

He approached the Life Day Tree, pausing to absorb the beauty you added to his life, the joy you brought him in a single evening. After every separation you both endured during the war, then the worst separation of all, and you still loved him more than he felt worthy of. You were steadfast, funny, generous and kind, the most enchanting and incredible woman he’d ever met. And you chose him to love. Of all people in the galaxy, a soldier back from the dead.

More confident in his decision than ever, he crouched down and placed a small, square box under the tree. He leaned over to unplug the lights for the night and stepped back. 

Once back upstairs, he removed his hole-infested socks and climbed in bed next to you. He turned on his side, a quiet yet overwhelming contentment filling him as he refreshed his memory of every detail in your face. He itched to kiss you, to hold you close every hour of the night, but he dared not disturb your peace. 

Minutes ticked by and his eyes grew increasingly heavy. Fives fought sleep, afraid he might wake up and find the whole evening with you was a dream. Eventually he could fight it no longer, his eyes fluttering shut, falling into a more restful sleep than he’d had all year.

End Notes: Phew! That was a bit longer than I meant it to be! To be completely honest there was still a bit more I wanted to add, namely a few tidbits of Life Day itself, but I kinda love this ending and don't want to push it. I also ran out of steam lol. Not too shabby for my first Star Wars fic, I think. First fic since I was in high school, actually.

I hope you enjoyed, and Happy Life Day!

Dividers by @enchanthings and @strangergraphics

[the-sinister-story-teller]

Can i request some more angel dust x !male reader? Perhaps during the later part of the final battle in episode 8, readed is severely injured but still alive, angel isn't present as he and reader got separated during the chaos, angel only finds him AFTER adam and the rest are defeated and angel runs to get aid (i was thinking lucifer, i bet he can heal somebody), then later when reader is in bed resting/sort-of-coma angel comes into his room to tell him how much he loves him? And reader hears all of that so after he gets better they have a party at the hotel to celebrate, and later that night reader confesses to angel that he heard him? Yeah that would be cathartic

A/n: OMGGG YESSS! I haven't really gotten a request like that yet and I'm SO excited to do it!! It's gonna be so cute oml🥺

Angel Dust x M!Reader ~ I've Got You Now

Topic: request above ^^^^^

Mentions: Male reader, angst, violence, fluff, switching between using 'Y/n' and 'your/you're'

Angel let out a sigh, hugging Fat Nuggets close before straightening up, looking around. Charlie went to his aid in a worry.

"Angel...? You ok? There aren't any angels-" She said, reaching to him, before he cut her off.

"I know THAT but where th' hell is y/n!? H-He isn't anywhere! FUCK!!" He hisses. The angels had been slaughtered, and so was Adam (via nifty), and despite the hotel being nothing but rubble, everything turned out relatively ok...except for...Y/n that is. Angel and Charlie both scoured the debris, huffing and puffing. Mainly Angel however as he was terrified something bad had happened. The two had gotten separated and Angel at first thought Y/n could handle himself but now, he was paranoid that something happened. "Sh-Shit I can't find 'im!! Charlie anything!?" He called out the the princess, as she lifted yet another piece of rubble.

"No Angel!" She called back as Angel was on the brink of tears, on the near edge of a panic attack. That was until he saw something in the corner of his eye. Turning that direction, he gasped.

"Y/N!!!" He shouted, running to Y/n's body, tearing up from joy, going to his side, realizing you were unconscious. Panicked, he set you down gently. "Don't worry, I'll be back ok..? Just...Just stay with me." He spoke, before running off to Charlie. "Where the FUCK is Lucifer!?" He snapped and Charlie stammered before noticing her father, simply pointing before Angel ran off to him, desperately explaining the situation to him, rambling and stammering constantly along the way. Lucifer understood and rushed to Y/n's unconscious body, and taking him into care.

"Until the hotel is rebuilt I'll keep him at my living space...Don't worry, I'll keep care of him." Lucifer assured and Angel HATED the idea of him not being able to check up on you, but reluctantly agreed. It took a bit, but the moment the hotel was rebuilt, Y/n was moved into his new room, now healing there. Angel sat by your bed with nuggets, sighing softly. A knocking erupted from the door, and he lifted his head to look at it.

"Come in.." Angel muttered, seeing Charlie and Lucifer walk in. Lucifer went to Angel, patting his head.

"You don't need to worry for him Angel. He's healed, just unconscious at the moment. He'll wake up soon, I know he will." Lucifer assured and Angel sighed, fixing the sheets that were held around your body.

"I know it's just...I hate seein' him hurt.." Angel murmured and Charlie hummed.

"We get it Angel...But hey! He'll wake up in no time! Ok? Just have some hope.." She muttered, taking Angel's hands as he sighed with a light smile.

"Thanks princess...It...Means a lot.." Angel said. The three conversed a bit, before Lucifer and Charlie exited, leaving the two of you alone. Truth was, you weren't unconscious anymore. Actually, you had just stirred awake from it all. Though, you wanted to stay at rest, because the lights hurt your eyes.

Angel sighed, sitting back down, brushing hair out your face. "I...I need to get this off my chest...I know you're unconscious, but I can't continue keeping this a secret...I love you Y/n. I love you a lot...Flaws n all. I should've told you sooner...In case you don't...make it.." Angel muttered, his voice cracking from the tears he held back. "I just wanted you to know that I love you so fucking much...I don't know if you feel the same, I don't know if you will tell me when you wake up, but...Even if you can't here me, I still want to tell you that I adore you.." He confessed. Your heart was racing. You weren't expecting this. He...confessed his love to you!! God you were thrilled to have known that.

About a day later, not even, you stumbled out your room, going to the lobby. Everyone was sitting down, either drinking coffee or eating, that was until you spoke.

"So...what's for breakfast guys?" You asked with a lighthearted chuckle. You could hear your name from every person in the room, except for one. "Angie? Ya missed me?" You joked, as Angel welled up with tears, rushing to you and hugging you, before lightly punching you.

"Don't scare me like that again ya fuckin' asshole!! I thought you DIED!!" He scolded with a laugh wiping his tears softly, hugging you again.

"Nah. You'd beat my ass if I died." You sarcastically joked, hugging him back.

"We have to celebrate this!!" Charlie exclaimed as Vaggie smiled from her girlfriends enthusiasm. So, as per the princesses request, a celebratory party was indeed thrown. Husk handled everybody's drinks, actually enjoying his job like this. Alastor, Charlie, and Lucifer were all handling food. You, Angel, and Nifty set up decorations. Once everything was done, it was lively in the hotel, despite the lack of recipients residing there. But that was just fine by you. You laughed with Charlie, before venturing off to find Angel.

"Aaaangie! I got cha' a pastry! Alastor made it. I'm honestly shocked he could bake." You joked, going onto the balcony with Angel, handing him the baked good.

"Thanks tootz." Angel hummed with a laugh, leaning on the railing while eating, as you reciprocating his actions.

"Hey Angel...You ever consider dating?" You asked. You weren't curious. You were starting a way to also confess to him like he did to you.

"Huh? I mean...I guess. A couple times, why?" Angel perked, blushing a bit. You simply shrugged.

"I guess I just need help, that's all."

"With?" He raised a brow, looking at you. He was losing hope, that maybe you liked someone else.

"With confessing to my crush. He's super fucking pretty, and out my league." You said with a soft chuckle, blushing. Angel felt a bit hurt, overthinking this all.

"Ok well...Tell me 'bout him! Knowing a person you love makes it easier to confess ya'know!" He laughed.

"Alright well...He lives here, uh...again, he's so fucking pretty; not even pretty, GORGEOUS. Great taste in clothing, he's the best pet dad ever, and let's see..." you thought. Angel sat there, bright red. Nobody else fit those things besides him...He was really curious on what the next thing would be.

"...oh, and I think he confessed to me the other night." You said softly, coy. Angel went wide eyed.

"Wh-Wha?" He nervously chuckled, tapping the railing sheepishly. You turned to him, holding on of his hands in yours.

"Angie...I heard you...and-" Angel was quick to cut you off.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry if I sounded creepy I didn't know you were awake and I just wanted to tell you but-" he stammered, before you laughed, shushing him.

"Dude, relax...I was going to say, that I feel the same...I love you to, Anthony." You muttered and he teared up before pulling you into a tight hug. You returned it, as you both shared a quick, loving kiss.

"I thought you were gonna reject me!" Angel laughed, as you snickered, resting your head right above his chest, gazing up at him.

"I could never...I'd never forgive myself if I did!" You joked back as the two of you shared a sweet chuckle, before Angel sighed.

"I'm so fucking glad I went to hell and got you...It makes everything so much more worth it.." He muttered, "I love ya Y/n.."

"I love you too, Angel."

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

A/n: I hope you enjoy!!

[creativewritersposts]

not true - Luke Hughes (part two)

PART ONE; click here

summary; Luke Hughes x reader.

Luke reads your fanfiction and wants to prove to you he's not a bad cook.

warning(s); maybe grammar errors, angst, fluff

author's note; if you like it - let me know ♡ happy weekend!

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You got three hours to clean the house, clean every room and get yourself new clothes on. You wanted to change your clothes. You forgot the time because you had to clean literally everything.

Nothing happens the way you wanted. Your hair is sticking up, you're not shaved and your kitchen still looks like a bomb explosion. You're not a messy but the last work shifts were so exhausting and you just wanted to sleep.

Nobody could know Luke Hughes wants to visit you.

And your worst nightmare comes true - the door bell rings after three hours.

Luke Warren Hughes is standing on your door and you're barfeet with a mickey mouse shirt on. The door bell rings again, you feel how you want to sink into ground but here you are, opening the door.

A tall, skinny man looks on your shirt. "Ehm..eh..hi?",he nervously jiggles with his right feet. He's wearing a dark jeans and a lumberjack shirt. It suits him. It suits him well.

"Don't say anything", you warn him. Your cheeks getting heated, embarrassed about yourself.

This man is your celebrity crush for 8 months nonstop and you're standing in this shape in front of him.

"I'm sorry for being late..I had to fill my car with gas because I forgot to do it beforehand and i needed to go grocery shopping", he holds a plastic bag in the air with something greenish in it. Ew, it looks damn healthy. You thought he brings some chicken nuggets from McDonald's or something like that.

You wink him in the house, no clue what you're doing with this man now. In your fanfictions you would grab his arms and kiss him until you both can't breathe anymore but this situation is awkward.

"Do you want something to drink?", you ask politely, "water, please", he thankfully smiles and steps into your house.

How can his smile look so cute? How is he real?

How the fuck is he so tall?

You give him some water and sit down in the kitchen. His cheeks are burning too and he's quiet. This man wrote you, a fangirl, drove over three hours and now he's speaking about nothing.

"What are you cooking today?", you start the conversation. "Oh I'm cooking one of moms receipts", he talks with a voice crack. "You'll like it!", his eyes sparkle enjoyment. "It looks really healthy ", you touch the broccoli like it's poison, your face expression says enough.

Luke stands up and swiping on his phone after the receipt, "it is but I bought us ice cream after this", his calm voice fills the room.

"Wait, you're staying after dinner?!", you're shocked. Shit, you wanted to call your parents.

"Oh, I can leave after this. Don't worry", he bites on his lips, he looks insecure like I hit him in the face. "no no-", you want to save your situation. So bad.

"It's okay", he shows you thumbs up and turns around, preparing the broccoli and cheese. And green things, you never saw before.

"What do you want here?", your voice sounds powerful. Inside you're afraid to hear the real reasons.

"You're a talented writer", he answers. "And?", you re-ask him. "is it a bad thing to visit a fan? Some would pay money to see me", he shrugs his tall shoulders. He's cooking besides talking, avoiding your eye contact.

"it's weird", you stop the silence between you two. "I know", he looks in your eyes.

"Ok you have ten minutes to ask me every question you want to know about me", he starts with a new topic.

"Do you have a girlfriend?", the words fall out of your mouth. "Nah", he stirs in the pan. The green something. Whatever this is.

"Why not?", you are interested, "it's not easy to find out which girl truly loves you when your older brothers are good looking and famous and you're the baby". Your face looks completely out of mind. It makes sense. "Do you like roleplay?", you're asking without thinking.

"What?", he turns around. Poor pookie.

"Sorry, forget that one", you smile.

"Do you read fanfictions?", "yes". It surprises you. "Why?", "why not?".

The food is ready and Luke put the pan with the food on the table, ready to eat. To be fair, it smells good.

You take your first bite, and it's an taste explosion. "Thank god for Ellen", you groan in heaven for this green food.

"Maybe you'll meet her one day", his ears turns tomato red. "I love your fanfictions, I really do", he smirks. "thank you?", it sounds more like a question than as a sentence. "but you're right, you're not the worst cook".

"It sounds weird but I think you could be a really good friend", he explains, ignoring your last sentence. His plate is empty. How can he inhale so much food in seconds?

"a good friend?", you're ready to go, crying in the bathroom. It's more than you ever imagined in your life.

"Yeah I mean friends, dating, you know..all the same", his voice cracks begin to get more.

"Dating?!", you stand up in your shirt, ready to pass out. Omg if you pass out, Luke has to do CPR. Jackpot.

Your phone is vibrating and playing the song 'boombastic'.

"Luke i need to-", you get hectically. "Hi mom! Hi dad!", you fake a smile, turning yourself around to hide Luke in your kitchen with the dinner.

"our baby girl! How are you doing?", mom replies lovely. Luke loudly breathes in, because he choked on his own food.

"Who is the guy in your house?!"

[jo-harrington]

Luminous Beings - Episode 7: The Force is With Me

Art by @monologichno || Beta Read by @undead-supernova Part of the @eddiemunsonbigbang

Summary: It's time for Eddie to trust in himself, and in the Force.

Word Count: 8.2k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)

Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Romance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Alcohol and Substance Use, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Galactic Politics, Mention of Death, Vague References to Order 66 and the Jedi Purge, Discussion of the Force, Use of Force Abilities, Abstract Spirituality

Note: Thanks again to everyone for reading. If you're familiar with the game Jedi: Fallen Order, you might have already noticed some plot familiar plot nuggets and you might notice some more here. I've compiled a list of all the references I've made so far to the SW universe, and will be posting that soon in case anyone is interested in consuming more Star Wars than what visual media has to offer.

Special thanks to August for the last minute brain sesh to make that one paragraph better. You inspire me to do better all the time. If for nothing else, I will write (and edit) better just for you <3. Hehe.

Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Bogano, 10BBY

Time seemed to fly by the longer they stayed away from the fast pace of the rest of the galaxy. Before they all realized it, two months had passed. 

Their days were occupied by Force training, general chores around camp, and strengthening the bonds that had formed amongst their little group.

Bogano wasn't such a bad planet, after all.

Of course, there were some creature comforts that they found lacking, but Benny was determined to procure whatever was desired. Books, clothing, toys, entertainment. He’d gone around camp and asked everyone if there were any special requests he could try to fill on the next excursion off-planet for supplies.

"Beer." Eddie practically got to his knees when Benny got to him. It was a simple request but he and his friends were getting desperate. They’d even tried brewing some for themselves about a week into their exile. It was just beer, how hard could it be?

Turned out, it was very hard.

"Please," he begged. "I'll take anything. Even if it's just a six-pack of Spacedust Stout. One. Single. Can. I would kiss you."

"I'll see what I can do." Ben chuckled and pushed the younger man away. "Save your puckering for your girlfriend, kid."

Eddie felt his cheeks burn at the jest.

Although he and Thalia hadn’t discussed it, he wouldn’t really call her a girlfriend, per se. Still, over the two months spent on Bogano, their relationship had also progressed. Feelings had developed, and it was more than a little fun. They basked in the pleasure derived from their intimate time spent together, got to know one another more, and moved past the awkward butting heads they had done in the beginning of their acquaintenceship. Instead of dancing around one another, though, they began to dance around everyone else. 

He felt like a kid again, sneaking around to kiss and paw at each other without anyone knowing.

Of course, that meant everyone knew and they'd been caught several times. Max, El, and Erica practically made a game of it, giggling and snickering every time they spotted even the briefest brush between Eddie and Thalia’s hands. The young boys all made gagging noises if they caught a glimpse of a kiss. Robin and Na'ancee awed sweetly whenever they spotted them together around the camp, regardless if they were canoodling or not. But it was the worst when his friends caught them.

Mainly because their loyalty to Eddie only lasted until they were given an opportunity to humiliate him.

"Does Thali know that you talk in your sleep?" Dayv questioned during the campfire one night.

"Does she know you're allergic to blerrgfruit? Has she seen your pus-filled hives and numb tongue?" G'areth was next, practically gagging at the memory.

"Does she know you used to have a crush on Waleesa Mermal?" Jeff asked, snickering at Eddie's adolescent obsession with the Toydarian singer. He still had a signed poster that his father brought home one year, in some luck-of-the-draw remembrance of his birthday.

Well, he used to have it.

It had been aboard the Dragonborn when it was destroyed.

That was another thing that wasn't so bad about Bogano. They’d put hustle and bustle of smuggling on an indefinite hold, but it gave them a chance to make new dreams. Nights around the campfire led to discussions of what the future would look like once Eddie's force training was complete. If it ever was complete.

But somehow, the notion that it would never be over was ok too.

Benny had offered to help them find a new ship and Bob could set them up with enough credits to start over. Stolen credits, but credits nonetheless. The sky was the limit, and they all had ideas.

"Okay, hear me out.” Jeff pointed at his friends across the campfire, brows raised expectantly. "We get a real freighter. Some Rendili rig with proper tags and everything. With individual bunks. Like the Assobs had."

"Ohhh the Assobs," Dayv teased, hands over his heart. "You know, I thought you had a thing for the wife, but maybe you just had a thing for their ship."

G'areth chuckled. "Can you fuck a ship?" 

"Ask Ed. I think of any of us, he's probably the one who's tried."

Eddie did a spit-take at the accusation, jawa juice practically putting out the fire. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You get a little affectionate when you're drunk," Dayv offered.

"And imaginative," G'areth added.

“And we’ve all seen you stroking the hull of the Dragonborn when you didn’t think we were looking,” Jeff concluded.

Eddie stumbled over his words as he tried to defend himself, but the others dogpiled him. Which led to his own teasing in return. His friends were a bunch of pirates and scoundrels—his debauchery wasn't the most outrageous of their bunch.

Eventually they returned to the topic at hand: hopes and dreams. Planets they'd like to see one day. Things they'd like to do.

Eddie shouldn't have been surprised when they all admitted how much they wished to focus on their music more than their smuggling one day. Just like he'd told Thalia on Outpost 86. They'd always been on a similar wavelength, more one soul split into four bodies than four individual beings; they were best friends, bonded for life. 

What really caught him by surprise, though, was their willingness to jump into a cause that wasn't theirs.

"Do you think we'd keep helping the Hidden Path?" Dayv questioned softly as he stared into the fire.

"I...I don't see why not." Jeff hesitated and he turned his gaze to Eddie. "What d'you say Captain? Give a good ol' kark off to the Empire? You can put your new Jedi abilities to good use too."

Eddie frowned.

He knew that he wasn't on this journey on his own, they had always been by his side, but he also knew his friends. Sure, they were a raucous bunch and they enjoyed a good time as much as the next guy would, but they always did their best to help those in need. Usually in the form of a few credits tossed to those less-fortunate.

However, this was something different. This was putting their lives at risk. It was making themselves even bigger targets in the eyes of the Empire. If anything went wrong, it meant their deaths.

"Y-you guys would really want to do that?" he asked.

"Of course," they announced, nearly in tandem.

They started speaking over each other as they explained how cool the kids that they'd already met were, how important it was to keep them safe, how nobody deserved to be hunted down and killed just because they were born a certain way.

"Why shouldn't we help?" G'areth questioned at the end of it all. "Why wouldn't we?"

Eddie briefly wondered if he hadn't been involved in all of this, if he hadn't had this innate connection to the force, would he have been so keen to help, too?

But then he thought of what Thalia said and how easily she'd read him back on Nar Shaddaa...and he knew what his answer was.

"I'm not doing it."

"You are."

"I'm not. Actually, I can't. Literally cannot. I am physically incapable."

"I'm not asking you to scale the side of the Vault with your bare hands," Thalia argued, hands resting on her hips. "We are simply hiking up to the entrance."

Eddie grinned sardonically. "I'm not a hiking type of person, sweetheart.” Thalia rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, ready to head back into camp, but Eddie jogged to grab her by the shoulders to stop her. "Alright, alright. I'll listen."

Training sessions always seemed to go like this: a bit of banter back and forth, reluctance on Eddie's part and either thorough convincing or utter defeat on Thalia's.

They’d agreed early on that they were poor candidates as teacher and student, and instead would take on this challenge as partners instead. Thalia wasn't a conventional user of the Force—definitely not a Jedi Knight—and Eddie wasn't one to strictly follow direction.

"You're the one who said you find my non-conformity attractive," he argued the first time she complained about him not listening to her. He pulled a bit of hair across his face in a sarcastically humble gesture.

"I said that it made you a good candidate for rebelling against the Empire," she fought back, able to see past his act. "And for deviating from the ways of the Jedi Order in order to do so."

Eddie hummed in some agreement, but then grinned slyly. "So you don't think I'm attractive? Or you do? I'm confused." He barked with laughter as she rolled her eyes at him.

Slowly but surely, they began to make progress. Eddie's connection to the Living Force grew every day under Thalia's guidance. They'd come to the realization that his abilities had previously manifested through intuition and prophetic dreams.

"How was I supposed to know that I had the Force?" he questioned, arms thrown into the air in disbelief. "Haven't you ever had a gut feeling before?"

"Yes.” She nodded. "Traditionally, that's when a Jedi Knight would say that they 'trust only in the force.' How normal is it for people to have gut feelings and they wind up being correct? Have the guys ever had gut feelings before?"

"Uhh." Eddie scratched at the back of his neck. "G'ar thought he had a gut feeling about working with Kanjiklub. It turns out his gut feeling was food poisoning. Puked on this guy Tasu Leech’s shoes, ended the whole deal. Ended up saving our asses though."

After that, he got an earful about the difference between a force-user’s gut feeling and indigestion.

Of course, Eddie wasn't the only one who's abilities developed with training. Thalia's seemed to strengthen as well.

"It's like riding a swoop bike, I guess," Thalia admitted as she demonstrated how easy it was for her to move things with the force. "I...hadn't realized how much I'd pushed it away. Even through this journey–finding Benny and Bob...coming to Bogano and reconnecting with the Force. The guilt of surviving kept me from really embracing it."

And that's what led them out past the edge of camp, into the wilderness of Bogano.

The Vault of Bogano was, according to Thalia, the last remaining proof of a long-extinct, force-using civilization that Master Cordova studied. The Vault was ancient and hewn from the earth itself.

"And it's a bitch to get to," she explained. "But it's a worthy pilgrimage. You'll lose yourself along the way, and by the time you get to the entrance of the vault, you'll have found yourself again."

Eddie didn't like the sound of that. "I don't know how a Vault is supposed to help me–us–with fancy magic tricks," he muttered. 

But this had been the path that Thalia had taken alone to rediscover her connection with the force, and she was convinced that it was the first step in getting Eddie to solidify his connection with it too. 

He dragged his eyes up the side of a stone spire breaking the horizon, knowing he’d put up enough of a fight. Thalia tightened her grip on her pack and started the trek.

Bogano wasn’t all flat grasslands as it originally seemed. Far beyond the edge of their habitable camp, the ground opened, revealing layers of sediment and deep canyons. There were remnants of explorers past, small footbridges and ramps, even a few study durasteel pipes that could hold their weight. But they were few and far between.

They needed to traverse the dangerous and unknown in order to reach the Vault. So, despite their silence, they jumped over cracks in the terrain around them, offering boosts and lifts when needed. Eddie kept pointing out unexpected pitfalls or areas where the earth was about to crumble beneath their feet.

Eddie tried to stay positive, focused on the path ahead, and trust that all of his gut feelings were helping them continue onwards. However, the planet itself seemed to have it in for them, and he felt himself wondering just how Thalia had done this on her own. How she survived. 

Every time he thought he could trust his abilities in the force, trust that the path they were on was true, he seemed to make the wrong step. Yet, Thalia was always there to reach out and grab him before he’d fall into a pit or tumble over a cliff’s edge. And he was grateful, of course. He just wished that he didn’t have to rely on her; he’d certainly worked hard enough.

If only he could move things with his mind. He could stop the ground from shifting altogether. 

He felt a little bit childish for even attempting it, so he tried to envision it in his mind as they walked. Not only the act of the ground itself freezing under the strength of his will, but he imagined himself, arm outstretched, fingers splayed as he held the very earth still so they could safely traverse.  It was a novelty. Thalia told him that hand gestures weren’t really necessary when using the Force to move objects, but the physical movement helped manifest the abilities. Maybe if he thought about it, it would happen.

But nothing ever did. And, in the end, his vanity got the better of him, his arms staying at his sides. He was grateful that Thalia stayed silent; he enjoyed her teasing, liked that she gave as good as she got, but could do without her rubbing his lack of skill in his face. Especially in this instance, where he was supposedly going to transform and transcend into a stronger version of himself.

The longer they walked, though, the more he sensed some turmoil within her.

It was odd to feel when she was usually so confident. He wondered what she'd gone through the first time she'd been down this path.

Except he knew what she had gone through, the thoughts and revelations she had in order to come out on the other side with a new life's goal. He thought about what he'd seen in her memories.

Saving those kids–the younglings–and then giving them up to the Empire to save herself.

He swore he heard the phantom echoes of her screams in the ambient sounds of wildlife around them. Then there was a flash in his mind's eye, of a boy covered in blood...and the tortured shadow of a man he became.

"Did you know?" Eddie asked suddenly.

"Did I know what?" Thalia questioned in return.

"Did you know that Steev was alive?"

Thalia didn't flinch at the question. There was no confusion or shock that he knew.

"You were the one who assumed he was dead," she replied in a heavy tone.

"So you knew that was him on Coruscant?"

"This trip is supposed to be for you to discover yourself."

"Well, I would like to discover some more about you first," Eddie pressed.

"What, your hands didn't do enough discovery back at camp?" Thalia shot him a teasing grin, then sobered up when he didn't offer his usual playfulness in return. "Alright. Fine. What do you want to know?"

"What happened to him?" Eddie noticed her expression darken. "I thought he died, just like the others."

"The Steev I knew is dead," she explained.

"Why did he turn against you? Why did he join the Empire? The Inquisitors? He was a Jedi Padawan...he was good."

Thalia stopped in her tracks and Eddie practically ran into her.

"He was good." Then she shook her head. "He is good. Deep down. All of the Inquisitors are, I’m sure. I've been fortunate to avoid them until now, but I know enough. All of their goodness, all of the honor they had as students of the Force, is buried beneath layers of rage and hate and betrayal. Felt towards one thing or another, and the Emperor and the Grand Inquisitor harnessed those feelings to corrupt them. Seduce them to embrace the Dark Side, to give them power. For Steev...Second Brother...that thing is me."

"You mentioned this before...the Dark Side." Eddie frowned. "What does that mean?"

"The Force...is a balance. Light and dark. Often mistaken for good and bad." She shrugged. "The Jedi seemed to think so. Scholars of the force...well, I would like to say they knew better, but the only scholars I know of are...were...Jedi. Jedi teachings condemned the Dark, and said that the Dark Side can only be harnessed through negative emotions. Things like anger, hopelessness, despair."

"We've all felt things like that before," he said, nearly dismissive. “How is that bad?”

"But what happens when you can feel the mechanics of the universe?" Thalia looked at him expectantly. "When you can control the world around you? One moment you’re powerless, then the next? You’re able to stomp out all of the sources of your pain with a thought. The Jedi understood how tempting it was, so they tried to quash it by encouraging a distinct lack of emotion. A lack of connection. The Sith embraced it, but then, historically, there were too many Sith all fighting one another to be the most powerful, and it corrupted them. Power and control through the Dark Side…it comes at a cost. It becomes easy to lose yourself."

"You seem like you know a lot about this. Have you ever..." he trailed off.

"We've all fallen prey to our humanity before," she whispered. She closed her eyes and smiled, a secret little wicked expression he'd never seen grace her features before. "Sometimes when you’re at the lowest, you let the darkness in. Little indulgences feel so good, but if you’re not careful, you give it a place to fester and grow." Her smile faded, and her eyes snapped open again. Full of guilt. "And then the hatred comes and only hurts people. But I try to focus on the light as much as I can. On helping others."

Yes, she did, didn't she? In Eddie’s mind, she personified the light. He couldn’t imagine her hurting others. It seemed, especially given how heavily her guilt weighed on her, that she didn’t think so highly of herself.

Then he thought of the Inquisitors—of Steev, especially—and that burning red lightsaber. Of the danger in his voice and the anger that emanated from him. 

"And Steev lost himself in it?"

"Yes, in his pain.” She nodded. "In his search for revenge against the Jedi for failing him. Failing us. And against me.”

There was a beat as her expression crumpled for a moment, before she recovered. Before she hid it.

“He blames me for letting them die,” she muttered. “Because I was the one who revealed their location to the Empire. He blames me, even though he was the one who killed them.”

Shock erupted through Eddie at the revelation. That hadn’t been in her memory. He’d only seen the red blade before he’d been thrown out. Steev had killed those kids? He’d killed R'sshekh? His friend? And he’d tried to kill Thalia, too?

“Second Brother killed them,” she continued, correcting Eddie as though she could hear his thoughts. “Second Brother killed as much of himself as he could, but there’s still a part of him that feels that void and he’s looking for a way to eliminate it. You can’t fill a bottomless hole, but when you’ve already succumbed to the Dark Side of the Force, it’s easy to try. Now that he's caught wind of me...I'm sure that he'll feed into the Darkness even to get his revenge and destroy whatever humanity…whatever goodness is left."

Eddie swallowed thickly, but nodded, satisfied with the explanation. Well, if you could call the mixture of emotions he needed to mull over satisfaction.

A thought popped into his head, then, as he thought about his own clandestine past and about the whirl of emotions—of goodness and badness, dark and light—within him.

"What about me?" he asked softly. "Do you think I'd ever be capable of darkness like that?"

"I don't think I can answer that Eddie," Thalia said, turning away from him to continue along their path. "Only you can."

Eddie tried not to let Thalia's words get the better of him, but he couldn't help it.

He analyzed and maybe even over-analyzed every moment of his past. He thought of all the possibilities of the future. With every step they took, he spiraled further and further into doubt.

Who was he? Who would he become?

He didn't think he was a mean and hateful person, but he did reserve those dark feelings for people like his father...or towards the empire.

However, those feelings had never served him; they never made him stronger or his life better. His friends, his uncle, his hopes and dreams, they were the things that drove him to make something of himself. They had brought all the good things to his life.

In the end, they had gotten him here: meeting Thalia and finding power hidden deep within himself and getting stronger on his own. As much as the journey had been tumultuous, the reward was sweet. Almost a relief.

Because he knew what it felt like to be powerless.

His insides stirred uncomfortably at the thought.

Powerless...powerful. Thalia had said that, hadn't she? The Dark Side made you feel powerful. If he felt powerful now, did that mean it was already too late? That he was already succumbing to the Dark Side?

"I have another question," Eddie announced then realized, suddenly, that he was alone. He stopped in his tracks and pivoted on his heel to look around for her. "Thalia? Where are you? Thalia!"

His voice echoed over the rigid walls of the narrow gap they'd been walking through. Had he been so deep in his thoughts that he'd lagged behind? Or had she stopped for a break and he’d simply soldiered ahead without realizing he'd left her? He looked back and forth, then called for her to no avail again.

He closed his eyes, tried to reach deep into the ground below to try and find her. He could sense everything, so he should've been able to sense the echo of her footsteps traveling through the force, but nothing.

His eyes popped open and he frowned. Where was she?

She couldn't have been far; he could find her. Which way should he go, though? Forward...or back?

"We were heading to the Vault...she knew the way..." he muttered to himself. "Which means if I try to head that way, we might catch up to one another regardless."

He mulled it over for a minute.

"Unless I get lost," he rubbed a hand over his mouth, down to his chin. "At least now, I know the way back. Even if I don't make it to the vault, she has to head back at some point too."

It made the most sense.

But as he made to head back towards camp, the path ahead of him seemed to stretch on endlessly. Impossibly. He felt sick to his stomach, felt the world spin, and it wasn't made right until he turned to forge ahead.

"Getting sick of these gut feelings," he sighed. "But I guess I have to trust in the force."

He continued onwards.

Unfortunately, onwards meant deeper into the wilderness of Bogano. Where pathways got sparse and wild things roamed. He was forced to draw his blaster a few times to dispatch of the intrusive, wild Bog Rats and Splox that crossed his path. He tried to leave them alone as much as he could; he and Thalia had been working on his ability to influence the will of those around him, but he wasn't quite good enough yet.

It nearly gutted him to kill the ones who attacked, the feeling of them dying leached into his body uncontrollably through his connections to the Living Force. But what was he supposed to do? Let them take a bite out of his leg? Or his throat?

He didn't hesitate, though, when someone else was at risk.

Or, rather, something else.

There was a great debate about whether or not droids were living things. A remnant of times past, but surely made worse by the Clone Wars. To Eddie though, it was a no-brainer. Of course they were living beings. D5-TN was an example of that; he had a personality, he was alive, and he was Eddie's little buddy. One of his best friends.

So when Eddie saw a small BD Explorer droid in the jaws of one of the creatures of the bog, he jumped to save it.

His well-aimed blaster bolt hit the Bog Rat square in the chest, sending it and the tiny droid flying. The droid squealed upon impact, but was able to recover quickly. It was a little worse for wear, its casing caked with dust and muck. It even limped on its fragile little legs, but it approached Eddie with grateful beeps regardless.

"Hey, buddy," Eddie took a knee to get closer to his new friend. He held a hand out, causing the BD-unit's antennae to swivel backwards like a distrusting critter would. Eddie pulled back. "Sorry, I was just trying to help."

BD-1 beeped and chirped, accepting the apology, then circled him. The droid's lens zoomed in and out as it observed Eddie, then the small holo-scanner came to life and analyzed his blaster.

"Sorry," Eddie said again and holstered it. He folded his arms across his chest and glanced around. "You're welcome, by the way."

BD-1 honked a sarcastic retort, but thanked him nonetheless.

"What're you doing out here by yourself?"

BD-1 beeped an excited little explanation. He was an explorer droid, so obviously that meant it was his job to explore. His holoprojector came to life and showed a map of the surrounding pathways with a red indicator showing where they were.

Eddie traced the path towards the Vault. He'd ventured off the path he should've taken, but he hadn't been that far off. There wasn't even much further to go—the Vault was just a little ways away. And across a zipline over a deep canyon. And up a hill. Kriff.

"How did you map that all by yourself?" he questioned the little droid, earning a continuation of the spirited binary description. BD-1 was apparently very good at navigating around all the hard-to-get-to places on Bogano. "Not great at avoiding the locals, though, huh?"

Poor BD, apparently sick of Eddie's shit, attempted to scurry away. But Eddie was quick to catch up to him and apologize to the droid yet again.

"I'm on my way to meet a friend...how about we help each other out?" he offered. "You tell me how to get there, and I keep you safe from whatever might try to turn you into an afternoon snack?"

The droid seemed amenable to the offer, and even let Eddie pick him up.

"Actually, you haven't seen my friend in your travels, have you? We got separated a while back, I'm trying to find her." BD-1 tilted his head back and forth in question and Eddie held a hand out approximating Thalia's figure before him. "About this tall, blue-ish hair. Kinda mean, but don't tell her I said that."

BD whistled sadly, and Eddie figured if BD hadn't encountered her on the path, that must've meant she headed back to camp.

Should he turn back? He was so close.

But Thalia wanted him to make it to the Vault, she wanted him to make this journey. 

So, he would.

Onwards he went, chatting with BD-1, who was perched on his shoulder, truly grateful for the company. BD was also very knowledgeable about Bogano; he'd lived on the planet practically for the entire length of his memory. He guided Eddie seamlessly.

"Do you know about our camp? You could come back with me," Eddie offered. "My buddy Dusty...uh, D5-TN...he could use a friend.” He thought about how mean Dustin got sometimes. “Mmm…on second thought, maybe not. But I'm sure there'll be space for you; you're not exactly a large model, no offense. We can fix your leg, and you could charge up too. Where do you even charge your batteries out here, huh?"

BD told Eddie about a workshop and his master, who had sent him on his mission to survey the entire planet. Unfortunately, there was only one of him, and his master hadn't been around for a while to check in. So BD took his time, enjoying things like sunrises and stars, but he was beginning to worry that he was losing his purpose.

The little droid beeped sadly, saying how nice it felt to help someone again.

"I know the feeling," Eddie agreed.

He was about to go into detail about his own interlude with purposelessness when he came to the long and narrow canyon; the zipline that BD-1 had previously projected was, unfortunately, damaged. It hung limply from where it was anchored on the other side.

Eddie leaned over the edge of the bluff and looked into the pit below. He could see the bottom, and the remnants of the river that had carved deep into the rock. It was far enough down that he would definitely break both of his legs trying to jump, if not die altogether. Looking back up, he figured that the walls of the canyon were too smooth to scale, so he couldn't exactly climb to the top. And there were no ledges for him to try and shimmy across.

The Zaur lizards seemed to have no problem with it, launching themselves at the walls of the canyon. They seemingly defied gravity to reach the other side.

Lucky shits.

"How are we gonna make it across?" he asked BD. "Do you know a way around?"

But BD insisted that this was the only safe way for Eddie.

"I wouldn't exactly call this safe," Eddie huffed and crossed his arms in irritation. He stood there, trying to come up with an idea. Any idea. But it seemed impossible. "I wonder if the zipline had been broken the first time Thalia came through here. How the hell had she done this–oh!"

Just because he couldn't sense where Thalia was now didn't mean he couldn't use the Force to see what she'd done in the past.

Echoes in the force...he could use them to see how to cross. If he could, that is.

He knelt down and let his finger brush over the sparse grasses at his feet; BD-1 hopped off his shoulder and stared at him curiously as he closed his eyes and tried to feel something. Anything. It would be a hell of a moment for the force to fail him.

No, he couldn't doubt himself like that; he had to instill trust.

Eddie took a breath, then a second. He listened to the small mechanical whirring of BD-1 beside him, the sounds of the wilderness beyond, even the wind blowing eerily through the canyon.

And he was transported.

Although, could it really be considered that if he hadn't moved at all? He was standing in the same spot, but the sky above him had changed. Instead of the serene blue of the afternoon, the sky was streaked with the reds and oranges of sunset.

This place felt different from the memory he'd been in before; a memory embedded into the ground instead of attached to a person.

BD-1 was gone, but Thalia was in his place. She was younger, but not by much. Older than she had been in the memory of the Jedi Temple; the weariness had already set in. She ran her hands over her face and through her curls, then sighed.

Eddie followed her eyes across the valley to see that, yes, the zipline was damaged, even back then.

She began to pace back and forth. As she did, he noticed the glint of metal in the sunlight. A lightsaber clipped to her belt.

He wondered when he was going to get one of those. If he was ever going to. Chances seemed slim. He couldn't even make it to the damn Vault like he was supposed to...but, then again, neither could Thalia...

"What did Master Cordova used to say? Difficult paths are usually the ones most worthy of traversing," she muttered out loud.

"It's really creepy that you seem to be able to read my thoughts here, too," he joked. The Force must've had a sense of humor, showing him this when all he wanted to know was how to get across this damn canyon.

She ignored him and instead sat on the edge of the bluff, legs dangling over the edge. Eddie dropped to sit beside her.

"I'm not good enough for this," she muttered to herself. "Why did I even come here?"

He felt a pang in his chest, sharing in the discouragement. Even with all of her secrets, he knew that this had been a difficult journey for her. Just like it was currently difficult for him, finding this new part of himself. Becoming something he only ever dreamed. For Thalia, though...this hadn't even been her dream. Hadn't she said that she'd given up on ever becoming a Jedi.

She was forced to become this through necessity, staring failure in the face at every turn. But she overcame it.

And so could he.

"You are good enough, you know," Eddie told her matter-of-factly, even though he knew she couldn't hear him. "You made it across. You did it. I just need to know how, so I can do it, too."

She huffed a sigh and stared at the rock face that lined the valley. At the Zaur lizards. Her head swiveled back and forth, analyzing the narrowness of the canyon.

Then a grin broke out on her face.

"Oh, I don't like that look," Eddie muttered as she stood up. He got to his feet as well and watched as she hopped on her toes, stretched her legs, and got her energy flowing. "Please don't tell me you're about to do what I think you're about to do."

Of course, that's exactly what she did.

Thalia took a few steps back to get a running start, then jumped and propelled herself across the jagged rocks in a wall run. She hopped to the other side of the narrow canyon and repeated the action.

To the naked eye, it looked like a great athletic feat. But to Eddie, surrounded by and in-tune with this memory, he could sense the way she channeled the unseen energies of the force around her to keep herself upright. It practically lifted her, light as a feather.

And then, just as she reached the other side, she hopped and crashed to the ground on the opposite bluff with a joyous whoop of laughter. Eddie couldn't help but feel proud.

Then he was pushed out of the echo and found himself back in the present, alongside BD-1.

He gulped as he looked up at the canyon.

He hadn't even been able to float a rock...didn't have the courage to try. How was he going to replicate what she had done?

But there was no other way. He had to do it.

And he would do it. Because she had done it.

He had to believe in himself...and trust in the force.

BD-1 beeped curiously beside him.

"Uh, I think we're gonna have to jump," Eddie explained, straightening to his full height. He leaned and looked back down at the depths below. "I have a plan. It'll either work...or we'll fall to our deaths."

BD beeped again, unsure, but Eddie hoisted him onto his shoulder regardless.

"You might wanna hang on."

He envisioned Thalia in his mind’s eye, the steps she took, the emotions she felt. The determination. He would not fail. 

He readied himself for a running start and then leapt over the precipice. His stomach dropped at the brief feeling of gravity pulling him downwards, and, for a moment, time slowed. But then he imagined himself floating, like the objects that she floated with her powers. He thought of the way she stopped that blaster bolt from hitting him back on Outpost 86. The gentleness of her hand, the untold strength behind it.

That same hand could, in theory, hold him up here too. Only it was his strength in the force, not hers.

His right foot hit the rock wall first, a jarring impact that he used to propel himself forward. The next step and the next step. And when he felt himself being pulled downwards, he launched himself across the void to the other side. One foot, then the next, then the next, and back.

Until he leapt forward and his body crashed against the edge of the bluff. All of the air escaped his lungs, but he used the last little scraps of his strength to hoist himself up and to safety.

"I did it," he laughed. "I kriffing did it!"

He didn’t realize they’d made it to the Vault until he rounded a corner. There it was, towering over him forebodingly, reaching up, up, into the sky. At this proximity, he realized that it wasn't just a cylindrical monolith, rather something forked, with half-cylinders flanking a shorter structure at the center.

"We did it." He laughed and looked down at BD-1. "I did it."

The droid chirped happily and hopped several times to congratulate him.

"I'll race you up there?" BD-1 beeped twice and then, with a speed that his damaged leg belied, raced up the inclined pathway toward the Vault's entrance. "Oh, you little cheater."

Eddie took off running after him, laughing all the while. He was out of breath by the time he reached the top, where BD was waiting triumphantly.

He turned around and surveyed the landscape before him; he could see everything.The stretches of grass and the canyons and valleys; there were large creatures...large enough to jump across canyons without any hesitation or difficulty. What a wonder they were.

The first time he and his friends had traveled through space, he thought that he would feel small. Seeing how minuscule he was in comparison to his home planet, let alone the galaxy. Instead, he'd felt larger than life. Literally on top of the world.

He felt...insignificant. But, not in a negative way. He felt like he was part of something so much bigger than he could ever understand. One spark of life, of light amidst a sea of shining, living beings.

It was exhilarating.

BD-1's chirps got Eddie's attention, and when he went to investigate, he found the little droid scanning the moss-covered inscriptions in the copper-colored metal of the Vault's door. The glyphs didn't mean anything to Eddie, a lost language, and he made a mental note of their shapes to write down in his journal back at camp.

"If I was the chief architect of an ancient, extinct, force-wielding civilization," Eddie muttered. "What would I use as the key to open a door?"

But the answer was in the question, wasn't it?

He ran his hands over the door until he instinctively sensed a point that felt just right. He closed his eyes and opened his mind, opened his heart, to his surroundings.

He didn't need to do much before the door took shape in his imagination. Cogs and mechanical parts, motorized pieces frozen in time, waiting for someone to come and activate them. He reached deep into his heart and tried to will the parts to move.

You will go, you will open.

There was the slightest budge, but they largely remained frozen.

Eddie huffed in irritation, but furrowed his brow to try and concentrate harder. He imagined the cogs moving, the whole mechanism churning, the door opening. He could sense it, phantom shifting under his fingertips, but the door remained still.

He pushed himself away from the door, unexpectedly out of breath.

"Why won't you open!" he shouted, and slammed his fists against the door. A loud metallic clang echoed throughout the vault antechamber and into the wilderness of Bogano. "What am I doing wrong?"

But could he blame himself? He'd only just started learning; this was probably nothing when it came to someone who was well-versed in their abilities in the force. What could he do? Have dreams and gut feelings and attempt to feel in-tune with the Living Force, but he could barely move a door.

"Maybe I could move one cog, but not a whole kriffing door," he scoffed.

Wait a minute.

Eddie thought about the mechanism that would open this door. The many cogs and pieces. They all interlocked and propelled each other forward. Just like he was a part of a bigger whole, one being in the greater populous of the galaxy. One spark of light amongst many.

He didn't need to move all of the parts to get the door open. He only needed to move one.

He closed his eyes and tried again, touching the door with the very tips of his fingers. He cast himself back into the door, sensing every part. He tried to use the mechanical know-how he had to figure out which cog was the key to getting the door to move, and in the end, he was almost shocked that it was the smallest one.

He tried not to get his hopes up as he willed the small gear to turn, but once it did–easily, in fact–the whole mechanism began to move.

Eddie stepped back and watched in amazement as the ancient door creaked and croaked and slowly rose upwards in a cloud of dust.

"I did it," he said for the second time that day. "I can do it."

Emboldened by his successes, he pivoted on his heel to try and lift a nearby rock into midair. He confidently lifted his hand, fingers twitching, so he could will the rock to fly into his grasp. It trembled...but didn't move.

"Alright," he said with a sigh, lowering his hand. He looked down to BD-1, who stared back up at him. "I can't win 'em all."

He gestured for BD to follow him into the narrow path past the threshold of the Vault Door, and then proceeded onwards.

It was narrow, dusty, and dark. Thankfully, BD-1 scurried between his legs to lead the way and shine a light on the path before them.

Eddie stared in awe as the path opened into a vast, dimly-lit subterranean chamber. From what he could see, the walls were intricately carved, made of a material that was something between wood and metal. The ground of the chamber was partially flooded with murky rainwater, but he could still see a dais at the center of the room. And floating above it, a glowing green cube.

"Woah." 

He took a few steps forward as BD-1 raced into and around the room, holo-scanner roving over the various surfaces. By the time BD reached the cube though, he stopped scanning, and instead chose to project a hologram.

Basking in a blue glow, there stood a man dressed in traditional Jedi robes. His arms were crossed sagely over his chest, and his face was just about as stern as Uncle Wane's was.

"Well done, whoever you are," he greeted. "You've gained access to the Vault and this recording. I am Jedi Master Eno Cordova. I may not know your name but I know your purpose. The fate of the galaxy lies in your hands."

"So this is Master Cordova.” Eddie looked down at BD-1 and smirked. "He's chatty."

On and on, the projection continued. Cordova talked about Bogano and the Zeffo and his vision of the fall of the Jedi Order. He even gestured to the floating cube, a holocron; how it contained the names of young force-sensitives throughout the galaxy.

It all clicked in Eddie's head; this was how Thalia found him, found all of them.

"Ahead, you will find the inner chamber of the vault." Cordova gestured behind him. "But it also contains another test. In order to unlock the holocron, you must pass it. I can only trust this holocron to someone who has followed my path."

"You can also give BD-1 fifty credits and he'll let you pass," Thalia's voice echoed throughout the Vault, from behind Eddie, causing him to jump and swear in surprise. She laughed at his dramatic response, along with BD, who stopped projecting and snickered mechanically.

"You...you...you trickster." Eddie scoffed at her, pointing an accusing finger. "You let me think...how dare...where were you?!"

“I could sense the doubt in you,” she replied with a grin. “You were so worried that you wouldn’t be able to do it yourself, that you got in your own way. So I removed your safety net—me—so you had no other choice but to succeed.”

Eddie stammered over a response, but Thalia continued.

"Of course, I was trailing just behind you in case I needed to save your ass. Which I knew I wouldn't have to."

Eddie blinked at her.

"But just in case?"

"Yeah, just in case. So. How has it been? How do you feel?"

He hesitated to answer, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess...I mean...pretty great, actually."

She beamed at him, and he sent a bashful smile back. She looked down at BD-1 and winked. “Did good old BD here tell you all of my secrets?”

"You know this droid?" Eddie scoffed at how stupid the question was. "Of course you do."

Thalia reached down and gently picked BD-1 up to examine his damaged leg, tsking all the while. "He was Master Cordova's," she explained. "So I'm a little protective. But he's very independent. Getting into all sorts of trouble."

"Eddie Reckless and BD-Troublemaker," Eddie commented, flicking the droid's antenna good-naturedly. He pouted. "So you lied to me about having a purpose."

BD-1 whistled out a sad apology, but quickly explained that he didn't really have a purpose until his master returned. If he returned. In the meantime, he was content in helping whoever, whenever.

The droid tried to keep going, but Eddie shushed him and said he understood. "We can still be friends though, right?"

BD whistled happily and launched himself out of Thalia's grip, straight into Eddie's, earning a laugh from the two humans.

"So, now that you're here..." Eddie looked at Thalia expectantly. "Do I need to pass this test? Or..."

Thalia cut him off. "It isn’t Cordova’s holocron. No need to pass the test; I already did. You're free to take it. Open it. There’s something important inside."

He hesitated to reach out, unsure of what to expect. But, he took it in the end. Thalia instructed him on how to open it, and he closed his eyes to channel his connection to the force.

It glowed and, slowly, the pieces started shifting of their own volition, as if the object recognized the force within him. It probably did. From its depths, another hologram was emitted, and this time he found himself face to face with another childhood hero.

“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the Jedi announced solemnly. “I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen…”

Eddie’s eyes shot up to Thalia, whose gaze stayed focused on the projection. He turned his own focus back to it.

“...with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and reminder for all surviving Jedi: Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere. And in time a new hope will emerge. May the force be with you. Always.”

The projection flickered and disappeared, and the holocron’s pieces slid back together.

Eddie stared at the artifact for a moment, and let the message sink into him. Into the depths of his heart, the marrow of his bones.

His eyes slid shut as he let the feeling settle, let it mingle with all of the other feelings that had coursed through him on this journey.

Something stirred within him, some shift in energy; his grip on the holocron lightened, and eventually he pulled his hand away from the cube. When he opened his eyes, it was there, floating right where he’d released it. 

He was making it float, and he willed it to drift right back to the center of the dais, where it had been just moments ago.

He did it. Of course he did.

He had questions. So many questions. But the answers would come in time.

For now, all he needed to do was trust in the force by trusting in himself, because the force was with him. Always.

He looked to Thalia, who stared at him with some unknown emotion in her eye.

“Alright,” he said to Thalia. “Where to next?”

Next Chapter: Episode 8 - Strange Dreams, Stranger Deceptions

The Tag List for Luminous Beings is currently open; please comment/ask/DM to be added.

[forest-falcon]

Can't believe it's been a full six months since I've last written anything on here. Real life got in the way of writing for a while. Good news is, we've had an offer on our house and good things lie ahead! Apparently this has been the shove that I needed to dip my toe back in the water in terms of writing. I'm brimming with ideas for Protocol Phoenix / The Butterfly Effect, so I'll hopefully be adding bits between house moving shenanigans! Anyhoo! Here's a bit of Scott/Kayo angsty-fluff as I get working on the bigger chapters!

⚠️Trigger Warning: angst and language

The Butterfly Effect

Chapter 17

💙🩵🚒

Time had unravelled.

It was true, that for the most part, the rebuild was running ahead of schedule - which was amazing considering what Brains and Tycho were like when left to talk for any length of time. 

What began as a quick-fix to the villa and One, was soon seen as an opportunity, by the pair, to tweak, adorn, and improve.

Their tenacity, and the unbridled genius of their designs were nothing short of staggering.

Still.

Fast was never fast enough. 

Not for Scott.

 And, like a caged bird, he yearned for the adrenaline of flight. 

It had only been six weeks since the accident, but within the confines of the villa, (even with the addition of friends), six weeks may as well have been six years. 

Scott scrubbed at his face.

God, he missed seeing how the sun ignited the sky on early morning rescues. Or how he wrestled with the wind as One sliced her way through the storms of other pilots' nightmares. He even missed the sound rain made on cahellium, rather than the island palms. Was that weird? He didn't even know anymore. 

Most of all he missed helping people. 

 And it fucking sucked.

"Brooding again, I see?"

Kayo didn't break pace, as she bypassed the sofas and headed straight for the newly-fitted kitchen.

Scott gave a morose sigh.

"Just...thinking."

He wasn't in the mood. For what in particular? He didn't know. But the notion still stood. 

"Careful... don't wanna hurt yourself."

Scott scoffed, mirthlessly. "You're right. I seem to be rather good at that - and at taking you all down with me."

Kayo shut the fridge, and began silently dividing a chocolate cake - one Scott hadn't even been aware was in there.

A small part of him was hopeful that one of the slices may be for him, but he buried the flicker of hope with a frown, and sat with folded arms - the image of petulance.

If Grandma caught him like this, she'd be having words, for sure.

"Not gonna say anything?" The words were blurted out before he could see fit to stop himself.

Wow. 

He hated that he was being this pathetic - especially in front of Kay, who seemed impervious to the world around her. 

But, no matter what he did, or what kind words were offered his way; guilt still cremated him every God. Damned. Day.  

"Eh," Kayo shrugged. "I'm not a talker. You wanna box it out, then great. But honestly?..." The words were mumbled around a mouthful of cake. 

Scott waited for Kayo's nugget of wisdom, and felt mildly irked, as the apparent taste-sensation was somehow enough to derail their conversation.

"Oh my God, that's good!..." Kayo gave an emphatic eye-roll, and gestured the cake.

"But honestly..." He prompted, as she went in for another forkful.

"Mm- honestly, you just need to get your game-face back on. Stop expecting some weird-ass fix, person, or day to magic everything better again. Healing takes time. You wanna accelerate your healing? Come and try a slice of this cake - it's bloody amazing!"

Scott resolved to sulk...but then, Kayo had plated him up a decadent wedge, and had shoved said plate into his hand.

He wanted to deny himself the gooey chocolatiness of the frosting, he really did, but he supposed he could sulk, and eat.

Scott took a bite, and hated himself for mirroring Kayo's indulgent expressions, but then, the cake was on-another-level sublime.

"Good?" Kayo's enthusiasm was starting to thaw his ice.

"Mmm-hmm." He conceded.

A smug little dance followed as Kayo revelled in the victory of being right.

Then something weird happened.

Kayo did a very un-Kayo thing, and went in for a proper, genuine hug.

 It took Scott by surprise, but he moulded into the embrace all the same (still careful, not to upturn his plate.)

Tender moments passed, before a swift punch to the arm signalled the soppiness was over.

Kayo sighed.

"Look. I'm not Virgil... I'm not even Grandma. They'd know the right things to say." 

Her tone was genuine, and kind, even as she stole the chunk of chocolate flake from atop his desert.

"Shit happens. It was just...simply your turn this time."

She gave a small squeeze of the hand, just as Jonesy strode into the room.

"Ah cake! Nice!"

Kayo quickly straightened.

"Actually, I promised Gordon that slice," she warned.

"Oh! Erm...well...now that I'm here, I may as well take it to him," the firefighter beamed, scooping up the plate.

He left the room even quicker than he had entered.

A sly grin toyed with Kayo's features.

"I think Gordon may finally have met his match for mischief," she pondered aloud.

"He ain't seeing that cake again, that's for sure," Scott agreed with a grin.

 Still basking in the afterglow of his rare Kayo-hug, he seized the opportunity to hook his sister back in for another squash.

"...Thanks Kay."

[tessa-liam]

Turning the Page 

-6- Right Here Waiting 

Choices, The Royal Romance, AU 

Series Premise: As Riley Brooks journeys through life as a single parent in New York City, an epiphany strikes as she contemplates the future for herself and her two-year-old son. 

Turning the Page Masterlist 

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks  

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except William Brooks (Rys) and Matteo Magro, who belong to this series.  

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression.  

Rating: M🔞Warnings - Series will contain crude language, NSFW material – not Beta’d - please excuse all errors. 

Right Here Waiting - 6 

Chapter Summary: After spending time with his son, Liam begins his journey to repair his relationship with Riley. 

Music & Title Inspiration:  Right Here Waiting, Richard Marx  

A/N1: In this alternate universe, after King Constantine orchestrates two individual scandals to humiliate and entrap Riley Brooks and Olivia Nevrakis in shame, Madeleine Amaranth secures her position as the Queen of Cordonia. Riley, as the King’s mistress and Olivia, in self-imposed exile. Tariq is never found.  

A/N2: My submission for @choicesflashfics, Week#59, prompt #3 - “That was then. This is now. Things change.” 

A/N3: My submission for @choicesnovchallenge, prompt #28, Holidays and Events – French Toast Day  

Words: 2500

Brooklyn Heights, New York

Straightening his back, Liam rubbed his eyes, as the jet lag took its toll. After checking the time on his cell, Liam stood up and took another look at his sleeping son. His heart was full, and he felt a sense of peace that he had not known in a long time. He knew it would take time, but he was determined to earn Riley's trust again, and that he would never give up on his son. 

Riley waited for him in the kitchen and offered a warm smile as he entered its rustic décor. “I know it's late, but I'm starving. Do you want something to eat?” 

Liam was grateful for the offer. “Yes, thank you. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch. That would be great.” 

“Have a seat, and I’ll make us some dinner.” Riley smiled coquettishly, pulling a chair for him from under the table. 

Liam sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Riley busied herself with preparing their meal. It was a surreal moment, and he had a hard time believing that this was actually happening, but the aroma of the food and the sight of Riley moving about the kitchen with ease, made it all too real. 

As they ate, Liam could sense the tension between them. He knew there was so much left unsaid, but he was hesitant to push Riley too far, too fast. He decided to try a different tactic, one that was more familiar to them both. 

“How have you been, Riley?” 

Riley was startled by his question, and her eyes darted up to meet his. “I’ve been … okay. Busy with work, and William keeps me on my toes,” she replied. 

“Tell me about him,” Liam encouraged. 

Riley’s eyes lit up, and a smile tugged at her lips. “Well … he’s amazing, Liam.” Riley’s eyes sparkled with genuine love. “He’s smart, funny, and so full of energy. He loves animals, and his favorite food is chicken nuggets. He’s just …” she trailed off, tears filling her eyes. 

“He’s your whole world,” Liam finished for her. 

“Yes,” Riley said softly, her voice choked with emotion. 

“I am so, sorry I was not there for you, Riley. For both of you.” Liam’s expression was wistful. 

“Liam, how could you have known?” she replied, looking down; not able to return his gaze.   

Liam reached across the table and gently squeezed her hand. 

“Riley... look at me, please.” Slowly lifting her head, she met his gaze. “I will never stop regretting that I was not there for you. That you felt that you could not confide in me.” 

She gave him a tearful smile, her lips trembling. “We both know, had I told you, you would have given up the throne.  And the country could not afford that. And Madeleine …” Riley lost her battle with her tears and looked down to her hands. “Madeleine would have taken advantage of the situation, and …"  

Liam sighed, his thumb brushing the back of her hand. “Riley, I would have found a way. But you are right. My duty is to my people, first and foremost. Duty is important, especially when its most difficult to carry out.” 

“That is what I admire most about you, Liam.”  Riley’s breath hitched, “that is why I agreed to be your mistress when Tariq couldn’t be found.” 

“Riley, you were never my mistress, you are the love of my life,” he replied, his voice firm. 

“Liam, please.” Riley wiped the fresh tears away. 

“No, Riley, please let me finish... 

When I was crowned King, I vowed to always put the needs of my people before my own. I went through the motions of an engagement and then the marriage. But the day you left, love, I realized that without you, I could never be the King my people deserved. I was miserable, and I knew that if I lost you forever, I would never be happy again. Riley, you are my home.” 

“Liam, I …" 

“No, my love. You do not have to say anything. I just need you to know how I feel. I love you, and I will do whatever it takes to prove that to you.” Liam watched as Riley broke down and he at once moved to her side, taking her into his arms. 

"You don't have to say anything," he assured her. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you, and I'm not going anywhere. If you feel the same about me.” 

"What about Madeleine?" Riley asked, her eyes searching his. 

"As of this afternoon, Madeleine was served with dissolution papers. My lawyers have already let me know that, in exchange for clemency, that Madeleine will leave Cordonia. Riley, that marriage and along with it, the Cordonian arrangement, has been absolved.” 

Riley was speechless, clearly overwhelmed by his revelations. 

Liam lifted his hand to cup her cheek; he could see the exhaustion on her face, and he knew they both needed some rest. "Let's get some sleep, and we can talk more tomorrow." 

Riley nodded and stood, and he followed her down the hallway to her bedroom. They walked in silence as Riley's nerves were very aware of Liam’s proximity.  He looked so good, and it had been so long since she had felt his touch. She demurely smiled up at him and started to pull him through the door. 

"Riley," Liam began, slowing his walk, pausing beside the guest room. 

"But..." Riley protested. 

"Please, Riley, let's not rush this. I want to do things right this time. Let us begin to re-write our story.” 

Liam kissed her cheek. "Good night, my love. Sleep well." 

"You too, Liam," she responded. 

As Liam turned to leave, Riley impulsively reached out again to pull him close. Their lips met in a tender kiss, and Liam was lost in the sensation of her soft lips on his. It had been so long, and his body reacted instantly, the fire within him threatening to consume him. He forced himself to pull away, his breath ragged. 

"Riley..." he warned, unhooking her arms from his neck. 

"I know, Liam, I just had to have one last taste." 

Liam laughed, his heart soaring. "One last taste? Who said this will be the last time?" 

Riley giggled, her face flushing. "Good night, Liam." 

"Good night, Riley." 

They stood there for a moment, each taking in the sight of the other. Finally, Liam reluctantly turned and headed into the guest room. Riley closed her door and leaned against it, her heart pounding. She could not believe what had just happened, but she was elated and hopeful for the future. 

The Four Seasons Hotel, Manhattan 

Stumbling into the penthouse suite, Leo chortled, guiding the blond to his room with his hands firmly locked on her waist. The young woman giggled and pushed the door open, and he followed, closing the door behind them with a kick. 

"Now where were we?" Leo suggestively said, pulling the woman close and kissing her soundly. 

"Leo, stop," the woman giggled, pushing him away. 

"Come on, baby, don't be like that," he purred, pulling her close again. 

"Leo, no ... you're drunk," she protested, but he could tell she was enjoying the attention. 

"So are you," he countered, his lips scaling down her neck. 

“I know,” she snickered. “Do you remember my name?” Leo pulled away and looked at her. She was gorgeous, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

"Of course, I do," he lied, "but maybe you can refresh my memory?" 

She laughed and shook her head. "It's Ashley." 

"Ashley," Leo repeated, tasting the name on his lips. "I like that." 

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she teased. 

"No, no ... only the beautiful ones," he replied, his words slurring slightly. 

Ashley laughed, "hey, stop .... your phone is vibrating!"

Leo grabbed the phone from his pocket and squinted at the screen. 

"It's a text from my brother. It says, 'we need to talk.’” 

Concerned, Leo called Liam back at once, disentangling Ashley's arms from his neck. 

"What is it, Li? Are you alright?" Leo's voice was laced with worry. 

"I'm fine, but I have news." Liam's tone was calm, which confused and intrigued Leo. 

"What's going on, Liam?" Leo asked, his concern growing. 

"Riley and I... well, I just met my son."

After a moment of silence ... 

"You...you have a son?" Leo repeated, his eyes widening in shock. 

"Yes. William. Riley's son. Our son." 

Leo ran his hand through his hair and looked around the room, his mind racing. 

"Are you there, Leo?" Liam asked, breaking the silence. 

"Yeah, sorry. This is just a lot to take in." 

"I know. I'll explain everything later. I will be staying here with Riley, for now. I need you to take care of a few things for me." 

"Sure, Liam. Anything," Leo agreed. “But I need all the deets, asap.” 

"Thank you. And Leo, keep this quiet. We don't need the press finding out about this." 

"Li.... what should I tell Olivia? The council? They are expecting you to attend the Five Kingdoms Festival opening ceremony next weekend." 

"That was scheduled months ago. That was then. This is now. Things change." 

"You got it, Liam. Talk to you soon." 

Leo ended the call and stared at his phone, still trying to wrap his head around his brother's news. He looked up to find Ashley slipping out the door. Sighing, Leo poured scotch into a crystal tumbler and switched on the television. 

 Brooklyn Heights, New York City 

The sun's rays were streaming through the patio doors of the kitchen as Daniel scooped three teaspoons of sugar into his black coffee. Matteo quickly kissed him goodbye before heading out the door as William climbed up on his toddler chair with his train car. 

"So, buddy, what would you like for breakfast?" 

"I'm hungery, Dan Dan."  

Grinning, Daniel poured apple juice into a sippy cup, "you are? Hmmm. I'm thinking french toast with berries and syrup.” 

William's face lit up, and he clapped his hands excitedly. "Yummy!" 

"You got it, kid," Daniel chuckled, pulling out a pan and the ingredients. 

Liam walked into the kitchen as Daniel's eyes widened in surprise. "Your Majesty, good morning." 

"Good morning, Daniel. I think it's time you started calling me Liam. No need for formalities." 

"And good morning to you William." Liam smiled affectionately, turning his attention to his son. 

William looked up to the tall man, shyly, "Hi". 

"Okay, Liam. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" 

"Just a cup of coffee, please." 

Daniel poured the King a cup as Liam sat down at the table; already knowing that Liam had come to reunite with Riley yesterday evening. 

William was watching Liam closely and offered to share his toy train.

"For me? Thank you." William smiled and pointed at his breakfast. 

"Dan Dan made me it."  

"Is that so? It looks delicious. Do you mind if I have some too?" 

William giggled, "okay." 

"Dan, could you please make me a plate as well?" 

Daniel nodded, "absolutely. Coming right up." 

"Thank you.”  

“So, William, I see you like trains?" 

"Yes! And puppies.” 

"Wow, you really do like a lot of things." 

William grinned, taking a sip of his juice. 

"You and I have a lot in common. I love trains, too. And... puppies.” Liam smiled. 

William grinned, "you're funny, Mr. Liam." 

"You think so? I'm glad you think so, William. You know, I've always loved trains, even when I was a little boy. Would you like to hear a story about a train I rode on once?" 

William's eyes widened in delight. "I like stories.” 

"Okay, here goes," Liam said, taking a bite of his food. "One day, when I was about your age, my father and I were traveling across the country, and we decided to take the train instead of our usual car. It was a very big train, with many cars, and we had to ride in a special car just for us." 

"Wow!" William exclaimed; his eyes wide with wonder. 

"We rode that train for hours and hours, and we stopped in many different towns and cities. Each one was more beautiful than the last. But then, something strange happened." 

"Oh," William asked, his face a mixture of fear and curiosity. 

"We got stuck. The train stopped working, and we were stranded. It was a very scary situation. We were all alone, with no one to help us. We had no idea what to do. But then, something amazing happened." 

"What? What happened?" 

Liam leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "a magic train came along and rescued us. It was like something out of a fairy tale." 

"Wow," William breathed, eyes wide.

"Yes, it was quite incredible. We were all safe, and the train took us the rest of the way. But it was an adventure I will never forget." 

"Wow," William breathed in awe. 

Leaning against the doorframe, Riley looked at the two, smiling as she took in the scene before her. 

"Good morning, everyone," she announced brightly. 

"Good morning, Riley," Liam replied, standing up to greet her, kissing her cheek. 

William's eyes widened, "Mama, look, Mr. Liam told me a story." 

Riley grinned, ruffling her son's hair, taking the seat next to William. 

"LiLi, this man …” Riley reached across the table and squeezed Liam’s hand. 

“... is your Daddy."  

"Daddy? My daddy?" William turned and looked up at his father, eyes wide, filled with wonder. 

"Yes, I am," Liam softly replied; overcome with emotion. 

Liam stood and knelt, meeting his son's eyes. "I've been away for a while, but I'm here now, and I want to be part of your life, if you'll have me."

William smiled, wrapping his arms around Liam's neck. “My Daddy.” 

Liam's heart swelled as he embraced his son.

"And Mama, too?" William asked.

"Of course, and Mama too." Liam looked at Riley lovingly.

Thanks for reading!

📌All fics & edits: @ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @charlotteg234

📌TRR/TRF Liam & Riley: @irisk12 , @walkerdrakewalker @thesvnsins @jared2612

📌Turning the Page: @emersyn-in-cordonia @mainstreetreader @belencha77 @iluaaa @mysticalfangirl @queenwalton @bascmve01 @umccall71 @choicesfrog @amandablink

📌Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesflashfics @choicesnovemberchallenge

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley starts building his daughter's playset with a little help from an unexpected visitor. He wants to finish all of his projects and take care of you and do as much as he can now that he's home. There's so much he wants to get done, it might be time to make a to-do list.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, oral, pregnancy, bit of angst

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley was up at the crack of dawn on Saturday. His afternoon nap the previous day turned into one that lasted into the evening when you got up with him and cooked him dinner before going back to bed. His plan was to come home and take care of everything so you didn't have to, but so far you made him homemade chicken fajitas and lulled him to sleep with your fingers in his hair, twice. 

But today, he was determined to return the favor. He wanted to get started on building the jungle gym, and he wanted to get in a few reps on his own workout equipment in the garage. He'd clean up the kitchen and take Tramp for a walk later, too. If he got started now, he might be able to build the entire jungle gym frame for his daughter. His daughter. He ran his hands over his face as you snoozed right next to him in bed. Would he ever stop being on the verge of tears when he thought about it?

There was a list of names he liked in the Nugget notebook which was still tucked away in his duffle bag. He had a favorite, but he didn't want to try to convince you that it was perfect until he heard which ones you liked. But he knew it would be perfect.

"Roo?"

He was just about to slip out of bed when you rolled toward him, reaching for him groggily like you couldn't quite believe he was really home. "There's my Baby Girl," he whispered, letting his hand settle on your belly now that you were awake. "And my Nugget."

In an instant, you pushed him onto his back, kissing him as he cradled you with both hands. Your bump wasn't very big yet, but it was noticeable, and he didn't want to hurt you. God he missed waking up next to you, and it was obvious you'd missed him, too. You deepened the kiss, your tongue dipping between his parted lips until you were tasting his mouth. He could feel your nipples harden against his chest through a layer of cotton as you dragged your fingers through his hair before letting them trail down his body to the waistband of the shorts he fell asleep in. 

"Okay," he grunted, already hard for you as you ran your index finger inside the elastic. "Take it easy, Sweetheart. Wanna make this last." He rolled you gently onto your back as you cupped him inside his shorts, your thumb stroking his length. You squeezed his balls gently, spreading your legs wide. He glanced down your body as you smirked at him. "If you're gonna show off that pretty pussy, I'll put my mouth all over it."

"Bradley," you moaned, turning your head to the side. How on earth that bashful smile could make him even wilder, he had no idea. But just when he ran his thumb along your wet slit and tickled your ear with his mustache, someone started pounding on the front door.

You squeaked and jolted beneath him, but not in the way he wanted. "What the fuck?" he growled, easing his body off of yours. Once he was standing, he tried to adjust himself in his shorts, but it was obvious he was hard. Then there was more pounding.

"It's your first weekend home. Did you seriously invite someone over here this early, Bradley?" you asked, squinting as you reached for your phone. "It's seven o'clock!"

"No," he grunted. "I didn't even talk to anyone! I just wanted to eat your pussy in peace."

He stormed out of the bedroom, adjusting himself as he went. Tramp was already pacing back and forth and whimpering at the front door when Bradley saw Jake's car parked in front of the house. "Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me." He wrenched the door open and found Jake standing there with some grocery bags and a box of donuts. "What do you want?" Bradley barked while Tramp started licking the unwanted visitor's leg.

Jake strolled inside like he wasn't interrupting Bradley's blissful weekend of giving his wife head and finding out his Nugget is a girl. "I brought all of the groceries and everything," Jake answered, heading for the kitchen, completely unfazed by Bradley in nothing but his compression shorts. "Welcome home, by the way. Looks like the perfect day to start on that playset."

Bradley didn't particularly want to jump down his throat, especially since Jake had been the one to promise to get the damn thing built for the baby if he didn't make it home in one piece. "Why are you here exactly?" he asked, and then he heard your voice from down the hallway.

"Is that Jake?"

"Yes," Bradley and Jake replied at the same time. And then you appeared wearing that old shirt and a pair of Bradley's gym shorts and your glasses, and he wanted to drag you back to bed and put his mouth everywhere.

"What the hell?" you asked, stomping right up to Jake, clearly annoyed that Bradley's face wasn't between your thighs. "You practically woke us up!"

"Well, that's not completely true," Bradley muttered with a smirk, earning a glare from you. 

Jake checked the clock on the microwave. "It's 7:18. When you texted me last night and said Rooster was home, you told me to come over around seven."

"I meant seven in the evening!" you said, flailing your arms. "Like a normal person!"

Jake just shrugged and bit into a donut. "I brought the groceries you asked for."

Bradley watched you and saw the exact moment you caved. The annoyance on your face melted away as you grabbed a cream donut from the box. "Wait, why did you ask Jake to bring groceries over?"

You nibbled on the donut and snuggled up against Bradley, looking up at him as you said, "I wanted to make Reuben his cookies today, but I didn't want to leave you to go to the store."

He kissed some powdered sugar from your lips and whispered, "You're the sweetest thing."

You pressed your cheek to his chest and said, "Since he's here, you might as well get Jake to help you with the pallets on the driveway since I can't lift anything that heavy."

Bradley cringed just thinking about it. "You will not be lifting a fucking finger, Sweetheart. I'll take care of everything." He looked at Jake over your head and asked, "Feel like helping me get started on the playset?"

He had half of a second donut in his mouth as he mumbled, "I thought that's why I was here."

----------------------------

Bradley didn't put any more clothing on, and that was a-okay with you. He just added his work boots to the mix. Those black compression shorts were working overtime as he and an equally shirtless Jake hauled everything from the driveway to the backyard. He already cleared out the area where the playset would go, framed it in with long wood planks and filled it with gravel, and today they would start assembling the frame.

Your plan to make five dozen cookies for Reuben kept getting derailed as you wandered over to the sliding glass door every five minutes or so. The yard wasn't very big, and now most of it would be taken up by the patio, shed and playset, but you'd let your husband build anything he wanted back there. He was so excited about the baby, it made you feel lightheaded. 

You were pregnant with a girl. Maybe she'd have Bradley's wavy hair. Maybe she would look just like him. You leaned against the open door frame and watched the guys as they argued about a drill bit setting and smiled. When you caught Bradley's eye, he shouted out, "I love you," before continuing with his discussion. He loved you so well, you already knew he'd be just as devoted to his daughter.

The oven started beeping, letting you know it had preheated. You ran your hand down your body and whispered, "Your father is going to spoil you rotten." Then you put the first tray of chocolate chip cookie dough in the oven, and within minutes your entire house smelled amazing. You baked so many cookies for Reuben, you didn't see how he would even be able to eat all of them before they got stale, so you shaped the last batch into little heart cookies with your fingers before tossing them in the oven.

Then when you took a bite out of one of the cookies that was cooling on the counter, you felt her. It was that same light, fluttering sensation as last time when you tried to eat a piece of candy on Halloween. "Hi," you whispered, voice laced with excitement. "Do you have a sweet tooth?" There was more fluttering, and you grabbed at the edge of the counter as you laughed. "You do! Are you going to eat everything I bake just like your dad?"

You closed your eyes and chewed the cookie slowly, letting yourself linger in the kitchen over the feel of your daughter doing some kind of a wild somersault for you. 

"It's getting hot out," came Bradley's voice through the open door. "Let's grab some drinks before we drill the brackets into place." Once he was inside with Jake, he started digging around in the refrigerator, retrieving two cans of beer and two water bottles. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked as he handed Jake a bottle and a can. He was eyeing you cautiously where you stood with your hand on your belly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you whispered, and now both men were looking at you. "The Nugget was just doing some backflips."

"She was?" Bradley asked in excitement, leaving his forgotten drinks on the counter next to the refrigerator. In an instant, he was on his knees in front of you, yanking your shirt up and kissing your belly button while his big, warm hands settled against you. "Is she still?"

"She?" Jake asked with a smile, and you smiled back while Bradley shushed him.

"I think it's still too early for you to feel anything this way," you whispered, tugging your fingers through Bradley's sweaty hair as his stubbled cheek came to rest on your bump.

"Hey, little Nugget," he murmured while Jake took his drinks and slipped back outside. "Can you let Daddy feel like one little thump?" You could feel her squirming around while he talked, but she was probably still too small for him to get what he wanted. "Please?"

You didn't rush him. Bradley just knelt there with his eyes closed for a few minutes while you played with his hair. Now that Jake knew you were having a girl, you may as well just call your parents this week and tell all of your friends as well.

Bradley groaned and hopped to his feet as soon as Jake started up one of his power tools on the patio. He kissed you, his sun-warmed torso pressed against you as he said, "I need to make sure he doesn't break anything." You were still laughing as he rushed outside.

---------------------------

The backyard was coming together nicely. After you fed Jake dinner and he finally left, Bradley undressed you and picked you up, setting you down on the edge of the counter where you could look out the window as the sky darkened. "You got a lot done today," you moaned while Bradley spread your legs and ate your pussy, picking up where he left off this morning. "Such a dedicated Daddy."

"Anything for the Nugget," he groaned before licking a long stripe up to your clit. His forehead bumped your growing belly which thrilled him as he slowly, meticulously brought you every bit of pleasure you should have had in bed earlier. His mind was swirling with all of the projects he had to do and the torn apart attic, and he was still exhausted from being away for so long. But he got lost in your taste and the sounds you were making as soon as he started sucking gently on your clit.

"You know what that fucking mustache does to me," you gasped while he tried not to grin. His fingers found your dainty tattoo, and he sucked on your clit a little harder until you were begging him to fuck you. He wanted to tell you no and draw your orgasm out of you on the kitchen counter, but then you demanded, "I want to come on your cock."

Carefully, so he didn't dare hurt you, he helped you slide off the counter and into his arms. "If this is uncomfortable for you, then you need to tell me, Baby Girl." But you were already spinning around and pressing your gorgeous ass back against him.

"Fuck me," you whined, and Bradley was more than happy to oblige.

He lined himself up with your slick entrance and pushed himself deep as he said, "I thought you told me you weren't as horny in the second trimester."

You were whimpering his name before you got control. "Well now that you're home, I guess I am."

"Music to my ears." 

He went slowly, making sure you felt everything, and he cupped your belly and your fucking delicious breasts while you held onto the counter. Your body felt different to him, but in so many ways it was exactly the same. Your response never changed; you always welcomed him knowing he'd get you there no matter what. And you gripped him tight, rolling your hips back to meet him, stroke for stroke. 

When he plucked at your nipples, you arched your back, and when he rolled your clit between his fingers, you started to come. He was right there, too, and you pushed him over the edge when you said, "Make a mess of my pussy, Roo."

"Damn it," he growled, lips pressed to your shoulder as he filled you up and kept himself thrust deep to enjoy the squeeze of your orgasm around him. When you straightened up but held him snug inside you, your head tipped back against his shoulder. "How was that, Sweetheart?" he crooned, and you moaned. Then your stomach growled loudly, and he chuckled. 

"I'm so hungry. Didn't we just eat dinner?"

"My little Nugget is growing," he whispered, letting his chin rest on your shoulder so he could look at your tits. He brought his hands up so he could swipe his thumbs along your nipples. "I swear these fucking thing are getting bigger by the day," he mused while you reached for the plastic container of chocolate chip cookies. You held it up and let him take a bite before finishing the rest of it yourself. "Weren't these supposed to be for Reuben?" he asked.

You pointed to the island where several gallon sized bags were filled with cookies. "His are regular. The little heart shaped ones in this container are for you."

Bradley could have stood there forever with his hands all over the front of you and his softening cock still inside your pussy while you fed him heart shaped cookies and told him the baby was moving around again. "I want to feel her," he whispered.

Your head tipped back again as you said, "I know, Roo. Pretty soon she'll be kicking up a storm, excited about meeting her dad." 

Then you started yawning and he finally took a reluctant step away from you. "It's time for bed," he said, patting your ass. "It was an early morning with Jake showing up and everything." He followed you to the bathroom and helped you clean up his cum from your legs, and then he waited until you were done washing your face and brushing your teeth to lead you to bed. He handed you a clean pair of his boxer briefs and watched you pull them up so the elastic sat just below your bump. He smiled, and before you could pull on his ancient UVA shirt, he pulled you closer.

"Can I help you with something?" you asked, giving him a coy look. "You ready to go for round two?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Are you ready to go for round two?" You were smiling but already stifling another yawn when he guided you toward the bed and tugged his shirt over your head. "You need to rest. I'll fuck you twice tomorrow."

You pulled the blanket up and whispered, "This is all Jake's fault."

Bradley snorted as he pulled the blanket back down, yanked up the shirt and leaned down to press his lips to your warm breasts. You whimpered as he kissed both nipples and ran his nose along your perfectly soft skin. "I can't get enough of these fucking things. My god, Sweetheart." He forced himself to pull the shirt back into place when you started to squirm, quickly kissing your bump first. After he removed your glasses and set them aside, he reached for the lamp on your nightstand.

"Aren't you getting in bed?"

He shook his head. "I'll clean the kitchen and let Tramp out first, and then I'll be in. I love you both."

"Love you, Roo," you curled up on your side, already falling asleep when you added, "You know what I'm hungry for?"

"What's that, Baby Girl?"

"Hot sauce."

He had to stifle his laughter as he whispered, "Finally. I'll take care of that tomorrow, too. I'll just add it to my list. Two rounds of sex, more playset building, and some hot sauce."

You were already sound asleep.

-----------------------------

When you got up on Sunday morning, Bradley and Tramp were nowhere to be found, but both Broncos were in the driveway. "Roo?" You were met with silence as you made yourself some coffee and filled a glass with water. He had covered the refrigerator in rows of ultrasound photos, and you couldn't help but laugh at the way he used up all of the magnets. You picked up one of the now stale donuts that Jake left, and that's when you found a note from your husband.

Walking Tramp to the beach. Back soon. I have my phone. Tell the Nugget I love her.

You smiled, looked down at your belly and said, "Your Daddy loves you." The way she immediately started to squirm and flutter around had you reaching for the counter. "Feels like you love him, too." 

You moved his note to the side, and your fingers brushed a handwritten list, partially folded up and sitting on top of all of Bradley's unopened mail that you'd collected. The last time you went through his things, you ended up in a very dark place after you saw the results from the sperm test he took. You didn't want to do that again. You could just want until he got home. He wouldn't be long now. 

But you stood there and read the first two things written which weren't hidden from your view. Contact lawyer. Send check to Nicole.

Who was Nicole? And why was Bradley contacting a lawyer without you? Your skin prickled as you reached for the piece of paper before pushing it further away. You considered going to get your phone from the bedroom to call him and tell him to come home, but instead you stood there and got frustrated. You did not want to do this to yourself again.

When he walked inside a few minutes later wearing snug gym shorts and a white tank, he was all smiles as Tramp ran for his water bowl. "Morning," he rasped, yanking his aviators down lower on his nose as he hung up the leash. "You look cute."

You didn't though. You hadn't showered, and you didn't even brush your teeth yet. "Can we talk about what's on this list?"

His brow furrowed and he froze. "What list?"

"This one," you said as calmly as you could. "The one where you wrote about contacting a lawyer and someone named Nicole."

He made his way over to you and asked, "How much did you read?" as he tossed his sunglasses on the counter.

You crossed your arms over your bump and frowned. "That's all I read."

"Good." He snatched it up, unfolded it and handed it to you. "It's my list of things I want to take care of today or tomorrow."

You read the list from top to bottom.

Contact lawyer

Send check to Nicole for permit

Order album for ultrasounds

Call Bradley Ross

Hot sauce reservation for my Baby Girl

Text Reuben

Offer to babysit Jeremiah

Order a new drill bit to replace the one Jake broke

Decide on Thanksgiving plans

"Oh," you said, meeting his eyes as you handed it back to him. "Who's Bradley Ross?"

He folded up the list again as he said, "The contractor who is going to re-do our attic however you want it."

"Oh." You pressed your lips together before you asked, "Are you going to tell me why you want to talk to a lawyer and who Nicole is?"

"Come here," he rasped, and you tucked yourself into his arms, your lips brushing his paper airplane tattoo. "I want a lawyer to add the Nugget to my will. And I think you should come with me to make sure literally everything is in order. for yourself, too." You nodded against him, and then he added, "And I really don't want to tell you who Nicole is, because it will ruin the surprise. But I've never even met her, and I have no idea who she actually is."

"That sounds weird."

"It's not, I promise, Sweetheart."

You looked up into his eyes, his gaze soft as he ran his hand slowly up and down your back. You already felt better just talking to him. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But the surprise had better be a good one."

He nodded. "It's something for our anniversary. You'll love it. Now why don't you bring your coffee outside and keep me company while I work on the playset?"

You were starting to melt. "I could do that."

"Then we can take a shower together?" he asked hopefully. "You can wash my hair?"

You melted a little bit more. "I would love that."

"And then I'll take you out to dinner."

You sat out on the patio in the sun for a while, not doing much to help Bradley other than occasionally catcall and make sure he drank enough water. Then you took a luxurious shower, complete with hair washing and sex against the wall. He was taking you up to the hot sauce restaurant in Del Mar where you had your first date, and you squeezed yourself into the red dress you wore that night.

Bradley was acting like his brain was short circuiting, and maybe it was. "Holy fucking hell," he groaned, gripping the edge of the dresser when he came to check to see if you were ready to go. He was staring at you like he was in agony as he bit down on his knuckle. He let out a soft wheezing sound before he said, "You're pregnant. In your red dress."

You looked down at yourself; you didn't think it looked that bad. "Yes?"

He rushed forward and grabbed your hand. "That's so fucking sexy. We've gotta go. Now. Or else we'll never leave the house."

"Roo!" you laughed as he pulled you along. "I don't even have shoes on."

He threatened to carry you everywhere before you successfully put on a cute pair of shoes. Then you and he dropped the cookies off at Reuben's place, and you gave the other aviator a kiss on the cheek and thanked him for looking after Bradley. And then the two of you were back in the blue Bronco, winding up the coastal highway as the sun set over the ocean. It was nearly Thanksgiving. It was almost your first wedding anniversary. The Nugget was back to doing somersaults. And finally, you were craving hot sauce again.

-----------------------------

This man already loves his kiddo. BG is about to have a do over for the steak dinner that got ruined when she was in Annapolis. I still don't know what they are doing for Thanksgiving (good thing it's on his to-do list), but they will definitely be celebrating their first anniversary very soon! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

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@marve2014

@furiousladyking

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

The Bad Batch Fanfic Round-Up

Long Fics & Series

Test Subject / System Upgrade AO3 (Complete, ~35k words) Echo's ordeal doesn't end when he is rescued from Skako Minor. The clones are Kaminoan property; they want to know how his altered body works, and upgrade the Techno Union hardware that keeps his body functioning. After that, he has to integrate with his new squad.

Pieces Of The People We Love AO3 (Complete, ~56k words) Seeking to improve their most valuable export, the Kaminoans develop a new breed of enhanced clone. CT-9904 'Crosshair' grows up alongside his batch-mates.

Welcome To The Outpost Tumblr | AO3 (Complete, ~32k words) Clone Commander Mayday is given the unenviable task of managing a storage outpost on the remote, inhospitable planet Barton IV. Adversity takes its toll on his squad, but will things change when an elite Imperial sniper arrives with the relief transport destined to relieve them of their long patrol? Tales of the Outpost includes additional short stories about Mayday's squad Distinguished | Under The Same Sky

Savage Hunter AO3 (~9.2k words, In Progress) Enhancing Hunter's senses came with the side effect of heightening his feral instincts. When his family is threatened, he cannot always control it. Rope Burns / Adrenaline Crash | Adrenaline Crash 5+1 | Savage

Beach Days & Hair Braiding AO3 (~36k words, In Progress) Tantiss is destroyed, and Hunter and Omega have settled on Pabu. The Empire is still out there though, and Crosshair fights alongside Echo in Rex's Resistance to keep his family safe. Despite it all, they find time to explore the tentative new depths of their feelings for each other. Beach Days & Hair Braiding | All The Time In The World | Fairground Date | R U Mine?

Short Stories

The Bad Batch Short Story Collection Tumblr | AO3 (33 stories, most under ~2k words) Assorted short stories written for various writing prompt events. Check here for Cadet stories, birthday cake, whump, brotherly feels, obligatory nerf nugget transport fic, Tech/Phee, water gun fights, settling down on Pabu, Omega gets a girlfriend, ugly haircuts, how Wrecker got Lula, Outpost Boys at the beach, Domino Twins on Pabu and more.

This is the last time I abandon you Tumblr | AO3 (~11k words) AU in which Mayday survives, and later returns to the Barton IV outpost with the remaining members of the Batch

A Fair Price To Pay Tumblr | AO3 (~12k words) Crosshair is determined to get Omega out of Tantiss, even if their freedom comes at a price. Along the way, Omega saves him too.

Ink AO3 (1099 words for CT-9901) Despite his status as a CT-99, Hunter bore the same face as the millions of regular clones. Although his sensory abilities were altered, his genetic code hadn’t mutated in a way which caused differences to his appearance. He could have passed as normal – if only he had wanted to.

i'm not trying to replace you (only hold on to your memory) Tumblr | AO3 (~2k words) Omega misses the quiet rituals that had been hers and Tech's alone, and turns to Hunter for comfort.

Radio Silence Tumblr | AO3 (~4k words) After Eriadu, Hunter tunes the com to a familiar frequency and sends a message out into the void, hoping beyond hope for an answer.

i reach for you in the night (you're still my brother after all) Tumblr | AO3 (~2.5k words) Since his return from Tantiss, things between Hunter and Crosshair have been nothing but tense. But even in his anger, Hunter is unable to ignore how distressed Crosshair is when he is trapped in a nightmare.

Hot Chocolate (Your Absence Has Torn A Void In My Heart) AO3 (~2.5k words) After fleeing Kamino with the enhanced clone Omega, and leaving their brother Crosshair behind, Echo takes a moment to check in on Hunter.

Phobia Tumblr | AO3 (~365 words) Omega helps the Batch deal with an unwanted guest.

Soup of the Day Tumblr | AO3 (~1.5k words) In which Crosshair gets to eat an undisturbed meal, with a side-helping of angst.

Cosy Little Batchmas Here With You AO3 (~1.2k words) 1200 words of fluff for Christmas. Elderly retired Batch on Pabu. Tech Lives. Mulled Wine. What more do you want?

The Bad Batch Stardust Collection inspired by @kybercrystals94 The Batch get a space-hamster. Chaos ensues. A Cosy Bed | Elusive | R.O.U.S.'s

"Please don't go" AO3 (~1k words) Inspired by this fanart - Hunter is reluctant to bid farewell to Echo as he leaves to join Rex

"I could stand to be convinced..." 18+ AO3 (~13.8k words) Echo declines to join the Batch on a night out, but Crosshair stays behind to try and convince him.

Close Enough 18+ Tumblr | AO3 (~300 words) After the raider attack on the Barton IV Outpost, two clones come together without words to find comfort.

Fanart

Bad Batch S3 Launch Party Cupcakes Because icing cupcakes counts as fanart, right?

Swimming Lessons Scene illustration to accompany 'Beach Days & Hair Braiding'

Lula Pen doodle of everybody's favourite stuffed tooka toy

Batch-mega Fullmetal Alchemist x The Bad Batch Crossover

Others' Art Fanart produced by some of the wonderful members of the Tumblr Bad Batch Fandom for my stories

[hell-heron]

Day 3 - Childhood/Pre-Canon recs!

As this is a genre I very cheerfully enjoy/devour I feel like it could be useful to have a little reclist of these that are pleasing to the Throbb population...

Canon Divergences/Elaborate Scenarios

Carry Me Home - Theon gets a chance to escape Winterfell, but is forced to choose between doing so and saving Robb's life. Very high-angst but a very insightful idea on how they came to be so close even as that's an incredibly painful existential choice to Theon, and foreshadows their future theme of impossible choices and uncomfortable loyaties so well.

Pretty Little Thrall - Maron instead of Theon is the hostage sent to Winterfell, but a year into his captivity he escapes taking little Robb as a thrall. This goes from childhood to their adult romance and has a lot of excellent Robb angst/whump, as well as a more innovative setup for the role-reversal trope

Wolf or Kraken? - Another role reversal, this one has a more classic setup with Balon demanding Robb as hostage after winning the rebellion and has a lighter/comedy-fluff tone. It's 10 lovely chapters of slice of life and friendship and something I really love is how it's not more miserable/dreary than it was for Theon to be a Winterfell, it just is.

First Meetings/Very Early Precanon

Hey, Brother - Ten year old Theon attempting to figure out how he's expected and how he wants to relate to his new foster brothers. Very insightful about Theon's past baggage with brotherhood and Robb and Jon are such two adorable little brats.

without a sudden calm will overset - Very shortly after Theon's arrival to Winterfell, he has to deal with the Stark family in full festivity as the birth of a third child is celebreated. My own fic so no compliments for this one.

Executions Angst

By The Sword - Robb and Theon are taken to see their first execution and Theon has a little panic attack. Introspectively very beautiful and great contrast with Robb's innocence and attempts to understand, OT this also has a very lovely nugget of joy for Greysnow shippers.

Don't Lose Your Head - A character study of Theon's trauma with beheadings not limited to pre-canon nor to Theon&Robb's relationship, but the conversation Theon and Robb have in this is strikingly beautiful and atmospheric, and I love the detail of Theon having the fantasy of Robb mourning him once he's executed as coping mechanism

Miscellaneous fluff

both are windy - Once again my fic, no compliments. Theon receives a letter from home informing him his sister has become a captain and vents all his baggage on Robb

Puppy Love - More recent pre-canon, Robb ropes Theon into taking care of bb!Grey Wind and the two reluctantly develop a bond. Super sweet.

with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair - Theon wins a little mock-tourney at Winterfell and crowns Robb his queen of love and beauty. Delightful bit of little-baby-pining and very fun look into how Theon navigates the North's suspicion of him