#me and reg definitely can <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[quillkiller]

regulus being shorter than lily is extremely unrealistic because it needs to be the other way around

bruh they don’t even exist what the fuck do i care if it’s ’realistic’ or not

[moonstruckme]

hi author !!! if it is okay with you i wanna request a fic in the same universe as the Big Brother!Sirius one where in reader gets a (secret) boyfriend and then they break up or whatever u want i just want hurt/comfort 🥹

Thanks for requesting <3

big brother!Sirius + little sister!reader ♡ 996 words

When you hear the door to your dorm open, you assume it’s one of your roommates or Regulus coming to shame you for missing dinner, but then your mattress shifts with the weight of someone else sitting down and a familiar teasing voice says, “If you’re dead under there, everyone’s going to think it was me.” 

You peep your eyes out from under the covers. “How did you get in here?” 

Sirius isn’t even looking at you. He’s making himself comfortable at the end of your bed, both legs crossed under him and hair falling in his face as he unwraps dishes and utensils. 

“Reggie let me in. He seemed to think you might need some company.” 

“He’s such a narc,” you grumble. 

Your brother only snickers. “Sit up, I brought you dinner.” 

You’d much rather stay under the covers, but know Sirius would only wrestle you into an upright position anyway. He always gets his way. 

“Yikes.” He makes a face as you sit up, revealing your bedhead and swollen eyes. “You’re having a rough one, huh?” 

“Shut up.” You glower at him and take the plate. “It’s not that bad.” 

Despite your grumbling, a bit of vulnerability sneaks into your tone. Sirius softens.

“No, it’s not,” he agrees, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair away from your face. “We’re always pretty; it’s in the genes.” 

You can’t help the small smile that fights its way onto your face. This is exactly the sort of thing your older brother would say when Regulus was twelve and sulking over getting his first pimple or when you nearly broke down in tears trying to style your hair. Despite his tomfoolery and general ridiculousness, Sirius’ levity actually provided a voice of reason in your family, reminding his siblings and cousins that things weren’t always so dire. 

“Thanks for bringing dinner,” you say.

“No problem,” Sirius replies softly, as though worried his gentle tone will be overhead and his rapscallion’s repute thusly destroyed. “Is it good enough that you’ll tell me what’s gotten you so upset?”

You blink at him in surprise. “Reg didn’t say?” 

Sirius’ mouth twists, dissatisfied. “He didn’t. I guess I would’ve been more likely to find out if I’d just pretended I already knew, huh?” 

That makes you chuckle. “Probably, yeah.” 

“Well, come on. Now you’ve gotta tell me.” 

You feel your shoulders hunch inwards. “Do I really have to?”

“Yes.” Your brother’s voice is firm, but his eyes are hopeful. 

You want to tell him, you find. You don’t suppose any harm can come from it now. 

You eye him carefully. “I broke up with my boyfriend.” 

Sirius’ eyes pop. He nearly topples your plate leaning forward, like you’re back in your childhood beds trading secrets. “You were dating someone?” 

“I was.” You can’t quite look at him, focussing on cutting your meal into small bites. “Or I thought I was. It doesn’t matter. I’m definitely not now.” 

“Wha—how did I not know about this?” 

“Because obviously I’m not going to talk about my dating life with my brother,” you huff a laugh down into your lap, and you swear you can feel the force of Sirius’ eye roll burning into the top of your head. “No one really knew. He wanted to keep it private.” 

Sirius tilts his head, slotting a piece of his hair behind his ear. “Private in an avoid-the-gossip-mill way or private in a dirty-secret way?” 

You close your eyes, shame curdling in your gut. Even your idiot brother knows enough to be suspicious of something like that. Maybe if you’d told him all those weeks ago, you wouldn’t be where you are now.

“In the second way,” you admit in a whisper. “I, um, sort of assumed it was because of the first, and I liked the idea of keeping things private too, but it turned out he had other reasons.” 

You try to take another bite of food, but it feels soggy and unappetizing in your mouth. You set your plate aside. 

“What happened?” Sirius asks. 

Your face feels miserably hot. “He just didn’t like me as much as I liked him. He didn’t want his friends to know.” Tears burn in your eyes, and when you try to speak again they show up in your voice, too. “I feel really stupid.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sirius sits up on his knees, bending over you to fold you into a hug. His hand presses reassuringly between your shoulder blades, and you let out a little sob. “That doesn’t make you stupid, it only makes him a prat.”

You hug him tightly. “I just feel so silly being upset when he probably doesn’t even care.” 

“You are being silly,” he chastises, but there’s fondness in your brother’s tone. “Of course he cares. He may not be regretting things right now, but I’d bet ten galleons he will be by the end of the month. Trust me, babe, boys are idiots. We don’t know how to act, we almost never know what we want, and we’re ten times more likely to fuck something up if it’s important to us. Just ask Remus.” 

Your laugh is a soggy thing. Sirius rubs your back encouragingly. 

“So, what’s the sod’s name?” 

“Oh, no way.” You laugh even harder, pulling out of the hug to wipe under your eyes. “I’m not telling you.” 

“What?” Sirius throws up his hands. “But we were doing so well!” 

“I’ve handled it, Sirius. I don’t want you to go and turn his skin green or make him sprout nose hairs down to his chin.” 

A giddy grin. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Does Regulus know who it is?” 

You fix him with your sternest stare. Most other people would soil their pants, but because he’s your older brother, Sirius only raises a brow. “If he did, he wouldn’t tell you.” 

“That’s alright.” He steals a roll off your plate, biting into it insouciantly. “I’ll find out.” 

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 9 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): use of the d-slur, the one for lesbians. use of the q-slur, the one that’s been taken back.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 10

You lost track of time, mind consumed by Regina's mouth on yours. The feel of her lips, her hands playing with the hairs at the back of your neck, made you tingle. You didn't know much about actual technique when it came to kissing, but taking cues from and mirroring Regina seemed to work. When she opened her mouth and bit your bottom lip, you chanced a little tongue. Met with welcome, the kiss deepened. The sensations had you shivering, hands gripping tightly at Regina's waist.

"Bed, now," Hazy and a little slow, you chased Regina when she pulled away, making a pathetic little sound at the loss of her. She stood up and pulled you with her, roughly pushing you onto your back. Sprawled on the bed, you could only watch as she climbed over you. Soon, her lips descended down on yours again and your eyes blinked shut.

Then, startling you like a bucket of cold water thrown onto you, her hands snuck under your shirt. Her nails brushed at your ribs and you, despite the nervous excitement bubbling, began to feel apprehensive.

"Reg," You mumbled, hands moving from her shoulders to her upper arms. "Reg, I- hold on."

"What?" She kissed down your cheeks to your neck.

"Hold on, I-" Your breath hitched, the tickle of her lips in such a sensitive place hindering your ability to speak. "I don't wanna have sex."

As if shaken from a trance, Regina pulled away abruptly. Her hands slid out of your shirt and rested on either side of your torso, looming above you. The dim, warm tinted lamp light from the nightstand made her hair, hanging around you, seem like a halo. Or a canopy.

"You don't want to have sex." She said, voice a little hoarse and eyes betraying something until she pulled the shutters closed. "You're lucky I'm letting you get this far."

You stared up at her, stunned. "What? Letting me? You're on top of me."

"I know you want this. You've been wanting this for a long time. I've seen the way you look at me, the way you act around me." She spoke fast as if she was trying to convince both you and herself.

Panic was beginning to constrict around your throat. It took a while to find your voice.

"Reg, I'm sorry, but-"

"You should be sorry." She crawled away from on top of you and stood up. You leaned up on your elbows to keep looking at her. "You should be so sorry."

"I- I am," You tried to reassure her, tried to hold down your own hurt. "I just thought this was a little fast."

She rolled her eyes at you, though the action seemed jilted. "You've been pining the whole time we've been friends, I'd say it's been long enough. And now, when you have all you want offered to you, you reject it."

"Is this what this is about? Rejection? Regina, I just meant not yet."

"You're so fucking full of yourself." She accused, pointing a finger at you. The whole display was made weaker by the glistening in her eyes and the redness covering her from neck to ears.

"You think you can walk into my life, cause all sorts of chaos, take my family from me, and then reject me?" She hissed, gesturing with her arms all the while. You swallowed, unsure of what you should do.

She was firing insults at you and the only thing you could think to do was sit there and take it.

"Chaos? I'm not trying to take your family from you, Reggie, where's this coming from?" You stood up, feeling too awkward to be on the bed.

"You think I haven't seen the way you act around my mom or my sister? You want to be me so bad, you're acting like they're your family. They're mine and you're never gonna have them! You're never gonna have a family!"

You reeled back, offended by the uncalled-for insult.

"You have the gall to come to my home, my family's Thanksgiving dinner, acting all holier than thou meanwhile Kylie fawns over you and mom dotes on you."

"Are you jealous? They love you, Regina." Your ability to argue was getting flimsier by the minute, the stinging in your eyes inhibiting any power you could've drawn from.

"Jealous? You think I'm fucking jealous? I have everything and you have nothing!"

"I don't think that's true, Reg. I think that you're hurt and saying things you don't mean."

"You always put words in my mouth, try to manipulate me and change me into someone you think I should be. I'm good the way I am!"

"Change can be good, Reg, I just-"

"God, you're actually so insufferable. Genuinely, I cannot stand to be around you. I hate you." She turned away from you, hands going to her hair and tugging. "I don't need to change. I hate that you try to make me. I hate that you've already done it, with your fucked up mind games."

You blinked rapidly and breathed in deeply, trying to stay calm. She was just being destructive because she was hurt. She didn't mean any of it. She was just earlier kissing you. Didn't that count for something?

"I don't play mind games. I just wish you were kinder."

"You wish I was this and that, and what about me?" She whirled around and strode up to you. "I am this way. I am not kind, I'm not soft, and I thrive."

"Are you thriving, Reg?"

"Do not call me what stupid name!" She yelled, getting right in your face. You flinched back, startled and scared. "Oh, you're gonna cry now that your other tactics don't work anymore? I see right through you, you freak."

"Don't yell at me, Reggie." You said, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. You wiped at your eyes furiously. "I'm sorry, okay, for rejecting you, for trying to change you. I didn't mean to manipulate you."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want to you." She hissed. "I'll fucking ruin your life. I'll tell people you're a lesbian and what you tried to do to me."

"What?" You breathed. "What do you mean? What I tried to do to you- do you hear yourself?"

"I hear myself, jorts, and so will everybody else when I tell them what a disgusting, perverse little dyke you are."

You wouldn't have described it as something snapping, but you'd had enough by then. It stung, hearing that from her, of all people. It stung more than you liked to admit because you knew her.

You knew she didn't mean it, she was lashing out, and desperately trying to cling to the power she'd lost the moment she'd been vulnerable with you- kissed you.

You didn't want to feel it, so you were mean instead.

"Just like you did to Janis then. Did you kiss her too and when you got scared you decided to ruin her life. Is that how it went?" You laughed bitterly and before she could interrupt, went on. "Is that how you're gonna live your life, Regina? Anytime you feel those dirty, lesbian urges you'll use some innocent bystander to sate your lust and then, because they know too much, you ruin them? Sounds very sustainable."

"How dare you accuse me of being that," Her face was scrunched in anger, red like the devil.

"Oh, I dare, I seem to recall you were just kissing me, on top of me, hands up my shirt. You're not fooling anybody, Reg, you're a filthy queer just like me." You were aiming to hurt now, wanting her to feel like you did. "The truth is, Regina, that you fucking hate yourself. You hate yourself and you just don't know what to do with yourself so you make everybody around you feel the exact same way."

"No, that's not true, I-" Seeing her face crumble, her posture turn defensive, stoked the fire of your anger. You wanted her to hurt, wanted to punish her for leaving you back then and insulting you now.

"You're like some shitty reincarnation of Heather Chandler, all high and mighty until you're inevitably toppled by some nobody you were so sure was so below you that they couldn't even pose a threat."

"Great film analysis there, loser." Regina quipped weakly, already backing down. You weren't done, though.

"It's only a matter of time before Cady Heron pours you a glass of drain cleaner too, and I'll be looking forward to the day." You sniped, watching as Regina's lip curled in an exaggerated show of being unaffected. You knew her. You knew she'd seen Heathers and you knew the parallels weren't pleasing to the eye. You knew you were going too far, but you couldn't stop.

"You think you're such a martyr, you think that-"

"I thought we were friends, Regina! All I wanted was to be your friend. Sure, I liked you, but that didn't have to mean anything until you kissed me."

"It meant something the whole time! You can't act like it was nothing, our whole friendship is tainted by it!"

"Get over yourself, Regina, you could've ignored it like you do every flaw you have!"

"I don't have flaws, I'm above that." She scoffed, but the tremor in her voice told you that even she didn't think that was true. "I'm doing everyone a favour by showing who's on top."

"Who are you? A fucking dictator? Is that how you truly see yourself? Because I see a scared little girl, confused and angry, taking it out on the easiest targets."

"Nobody gets to feel okay when I feel like this! It's not fair! It's not fair they get to be happy and I have to be like this all the time! I hate this and they deserve it!"

You fought to ignore your heart breaking for her, how her words and obvious cries for help made you want to bleed for her. You'd stood idly and let her hurt you for long enough, it was about time you stood up for yourself.

"Oh, well, I'm so sorry then. I'm starting to fucking get Janis. Maybe I could've come up with the Homecoming sprinkler prank myself. Maybe I should've let you use the lard for your face."

You regretted it the moment the words left your lips.

A beat, both of you staring at each other, faces slack and chests heaving from all the screaming, regret and betrayal swirling in the air like a toxic tornado, passed.

"You knew?" Regina whispered, suddenly so quiet the wind from your sails wooshed away. "You knew and you didn't tell me?"

"I... I did." You looked down. Fuck. You'd fucked up. You'd insinuated you wanted to see her die. You didn't want that at all. Tears sprung to your eyes again and you pressed the heels of your palms to them.

Could this even be fixed at this point? You should've just shut up and it wouldn't have escalated like this. You knew why she'd reacted the way she did, you knew, but you hadn't been able to stay level-headed when she'd started coming at you.

"Get out." She spoke normally, volume steady. She was shaking, you could see that even with your faltering vision.

"I'm sorry, Reg, I really am. I should've told you. I shouldn't have said those things to you. I'm sorry."

"I said get out."

Unable to hold it any longer, a sob burst out and you decided to leave before you humiliated yourself any further. You grabbed your overnight bag and practically ran out of the room.

You should've been quieter because Mrs George came to see who was stomping down the stairs so late. She had a wine glass in hand, a silken robe tied at her waist, and a worried look on her face.

"Oh, hi, I packed some leftovers for you to- oh, honey, what's wrong?"

"It's- it's nothing, Mrs George." You hiccuped and looked away, embarrassed by your crying. You couldn't look her in the eye. Did you want her to be your mom? Did it matter when Regina clearly saw it that way even if it wasn't true? Taking any comfort from her now felt like proving her right.

"It doesn't seem like nothing. Why don't we go sit and you can tell me what happened. Did Regina say something mean?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, please."

Mrs George sighed. "There's leftovers in the fridge for you." She lingered as you passed. "Honey?"

"What?" Usually, you didn't have the heart to be so rude to her.

"You're welcome here anytime." She smiled at you gently. Clearly, she was experienced in dealing with volatile teenagers. You turned and headed for the kitchen.

Walking home, bag on your shoulder and various containers of delicious food in your arms, you felt numb. You'd left through the garage door, grabbing your clothes from the mudroom as you went, but you still had on the sweatpants.

Tears dried on your cheeks, eyes swollen and nose stuffy, you didn't know what to do. Snow was falling and the streetlights made the scene look more beautiful than was warranted. You felt empty, hollowed out like you'd spilt your guts, heart, and most other internal organs on the floor of Regina's bedroom.

You got home, put the leftovers in the fridge, and stood in the kitchen. Swallowing on a dry mouth, throat scratchy, you figured there was little else you could do other than smoke a cigarette.

You stepped onto the porch and sank down onto the bench swing. Lighting up and inhaling, you closed your eyes as the smoke passed through you.

Regina by the poolside in her bikini, Regina eating pizza on your couch, Regina on the passenger seat of your car, Regina smoking a cigarette with you under the bleachers.

That was all gone, then.

Notes: I was a little wary of having the chapter be only the argument, but it got so long that I figured it'd be nice to have the next chapters work towards a resolution straight away. No need to stretch out the acute misery for any longer than necessary. I'll say, though, that just like IRL something like this isn't just fixed right away. So look forward to more chapters! This is getting so long. I started writing this like, hey, a cute oneshot with a butch OC! Here we fucking are.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared, @yellowwallflowers, @scarlettbitchx, @ayoungexwife, @cyberbonesworld, @syddie-reads, @screechcat, @theenglishswiftie,@gabby-duhh, @sweetmissnothing, @masterofpuppets-10, @l1lass, @starved-mortal

[rxsilabeth--er]

oooffffffffffff that reminded me of this post

"i should be tied up with a vibrator on my clit, getting soooo overstimulated from cumming over and over and just waiting for daddy (let it be mommy) to get home from work so he can finally turn off the vibe and stretch open my soaked pussy instead <3"

Like why is that such a slutty thing that Reg would definitely write in his diary and you would read it????

Only if it's okay with you, of course! I'm just a sucker for your writing!

OH MY GAH! I LOVE THIS~ You seriously ate..

I'm just imagining you with Regulus in a submissive head-space who proudly shows off his diary and his works written in and you read them, until you say you actually want to try and he gets all shy and goes,

"No-no, no, mommy I didn't mea-mean it literally! I don-don't even think I can sta-stay like that!" he would whine but not even stop you if you pulled him in and just put a bullet vibrator to his clit and left him there as you turned on some movie, refusing to give him ANY attention as he simply cries, whining and trying to get you to do something.

Until he simply cums, but he doesn't like to cum because you're not paying attention to him, praising him, kissing him or even guiding him no matter how experienced he may be, he enjoyed it when you guided his hips..

Crying he was refusing to let his body cum, but not like he could keep it longer, his cunt gushing over your thigh as he crawled on your thigh, trying to get your attention as you simply waved him, as he came again..

You definitely did not pay attention for the entirety of his orgasms, of-course he would never dare to disobey your words and take off the vibrator, unless it was you who did it.

Until you finished your movie and even a season of your favourite show, did you finally pay attention to him, completely spent, his cunt going numb, as you softly removed the vibrator and shoved your fingers in or you cock, your choice, it's being greedy and so sopping wet. Or you'll just let him ride your thigh and finally pay attention, kissing him while he rode you or your thigh..

At this point, the sofa was soaked and his juice dripping down the leather onto the floor as he cried in your neck, his cunt was hurting but the pleasure was not stopping either..fuck he fucking loved you and loved being fucked by you..

[emlovessid]

For your prompt ideas: Regulus is stuck sitting next to a kid and his dad on a long flight, just his luck. Starts out trying to ignore them, but can't resist Harry's charm (or James')

hiii i loved this prompt so so much! hope you like it <3

Regulus has just turned the page of his book when he feels a tug on his sleeve. Taking out one of his earbuds, Regulus looks down at the boy seated next to him, surprised to find him holding out a packet of crisps.

When Regulus had boarded the flight, he was a little apprehensive when he saw that his seatmates were a toddler and a man who was almost definitely his father, if their resemblance and matching glasses were anything to go by. But it’s approaching their fourth hour in the air and Regulus hasn’t so much as heard a peep from him, until now.

“Hi?” Regulus says, looking past the boy to find his dad asleep, elbow on his armrest, his cheek resting on his fist.

“Do you want a crisp?” the boy says with a slight lisp.

“Oh, um – I’m okay. But thanks.”

“But you don’t have any snacks,” he says, the packet of crisps still held up towards him.

Regulus glances at the dad again; is it stealing from a child if they’re offering it to you, quite insistently at that?

Sighing, Regulus says with a smile, “Okay, just one. Thank you.”

The boy beams at him as Regulus reaches out and takes a crisp.

“I’m Harry,” he says, though it sounds more like Hawwy. “I’m four.”

“Hi Harry. I’m Regulus, I’m twenty-nine.”

–

James wakes with a start, his chin slipping off his hand and hitting his chest before he jolts back up. Blinking a few times, it takes him a second to remember where he is, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses as he looks over to check on Harry, freezing at the sight before him.

The man in the window seat – with the soft curls and beautiful eyes – has a novel open on his lap, one earbud in his ear. But what’s more surprising is Harry, almost a mirror image of the man, holding his Spot book upside down in front of him with the other earbud in his own ear. In unison, they both turn to look at him, Harry's face breaking into a smile.

“Dad! This is my friend, Reg,” he says proudly.

The man, Reg, meets his eyes and says with a shy smile, “Hi, I’m Regulus.”

James apparently takes too long to respond, too busy caught up staring at the slight blush that has spread across Regulus’ cheeks, that Harry decides to step in, saying, “His name is James but I’m not allowed to call him that.”

“What he said,” James laughs, delighting in the way Regulus laughs too. Reaching down into his backpack, he pulls out his own novel. “So, am I allowed to join this book club or is it closed to new members?”

James watches in amusement as Harry and Regulus look at each other, a silent conversation passing between the two, before Harry turns back to him, “Yes, but only if we can have more crisps.”

“Alright then, I can do that. Regulus, would you like plain or salt and vinegar?”

Maybe it’s the altitude but James swears time slows down a little when his eyes meet Regulus’.

“Salt and vinegar, please.”

His voice is barely above a whisper when he replies, “Salt and vinegar, coming right up.”

follower appreciation – drop me a prompt <3

[bri-cheeses]

Jerseys vs. Hoodies - Part 3

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 662 | Part 2 can be found here |

-

“Merlin, you two are hopeless,” Regulus mutters under his breath.

Evan goes tense and looks over to see Barty’s reaction, but Barty is much too preoccupied with staring at Evan’s torso. It’s slightly unsettling, to be honest.

“Bee?” he prompts. “What are you looking at?”

Barty’s eyes climb up from Evan’s chest to his eyes, causing Evan to shiver.

“You’re wearing my hoodie,” he says.

Evan breathes in sharply.

“Oh,” he manages, then tries his hardest not to stumble over his words as he blurts, “I can take it off if you want. It was just the closest piece of clothing by my bed—” a blatant lie— “and I didn’t look at it before putting it on—” another lie— “and I’m sorry, I’ll take it off right now and—”

Barty’s hand covering his mouth cuts him off before he can start spiraling.

“It looks good on you,” he says, holding eye contact with Evan, who can feel Barty’s heartbeat against his lips. There’s something deeply intimate about the moment, and Evan doesn’t dare break eye contact as Barty slowly lowers his hand and opens his mouth to say something.

“Merlin,” Reg mutters again, because of course, “take the bedroom eyes somewhere far away from me, please.”

Evan immediately wants to scream at him, because that’s the second time today that Reg has ruined one of Evan’s moments with Barty. But the damage has been done, and he can feel the shift in energy before Barty even says anything.

“I mean, we can if Evan wants to.” Barty grins wolfishly up at Evan, eyeing him in a way that’s downright sinful. Evan tries not to feel too disappointed at the change in topic. After all, this is exactly what he had signed up for.

“Not today, Bee,” Evan murmurs as he turns back to his work. It might just be the hardest he’s ever had to try to focus on schoolwork. “I need to finish this essay.”

There’s a beat of silence as Evan scans through his previous work in an effort to resume his earlier train of thought, Barty a tempting distraction to his left. Barty tends to have this effect on him. Especially when he looks at Evan like he wants to drag him to the dorm and not let him come down for a good long while.

“Barty’s feeling neglected, Evan,” Regulus proclaims, breaking the silence.

Evan can’t help it. He looks over to the boy beside him, and sure enough, Barty’s gone back to pouting. Seriously, he needs to stop with this whole “wanting Evan’s attention” thing, or Evan’s going to get the wrong idea.

Evan aims his next words at Regulus, because it’s just easier.

“Tell him to get over it,” he says.

“He says to get over it,” Reg parrots, and Barty glares at him with enough force to make a weaker man wither.

But Regulus just blinks calmly and dips his quill into his ink pot, then writes his name on his essay with a flourish.

“Done,” he pronounces. “Now, I’m going to go get some dinner. Have fun and please don’t burn the library down.”

“Reg, we still have another twenty-ish minutes until dinner starts,” Barty points out, very obviously ignoring that last barb.

“He’s going to see Potter,” Evan stage-whispers. Barty snickers as Regulus’s face goes red.

“You know,” Regulus begins, narrowing his eyes at them, “before you said that I almost felt bad about leaving the two of you here alone together, considering everything going on between you, but now I’m actually pretty interested to see how this all plays out. Have fun dancing around each other like always,” he finishes, gathering his stuff.

Barty and Evan are both stunned into silence as Reg stands up and begins to walk away.

Only Barty recovers in time to call after him as he leaves, “Nice jersey, Reg,” and Evan groans because now is most definitely not the time.

Regulus simply gives them the finger in response, then disappears around the corner.

-

(Part 4 will be coming out on Saturday)

[garfieldblunt]

Modern Jobs I think the VDL Gang would have

Dutch - Drug Lord Prolly - but as a real answer I feel like he would Definitely be the leader of a shitty MEGA church

Hosea - I imagine him either as a therapist or a preschool/elementary teacher - Or even better, Number one Bingo Player in the retirement home

Arthur - Funny enough, I can't see him being more than a ranch hand

John - He's a good ranch owner - He, Arthur, Abi, Jack, n a few others live on a big ranch and live happily ever after

Mary-Beth - She's a librarian, author, and frequent AO3 visitor - can't convince me other wise, She has one of the best fanfictions on WattPad I just know it

Abigail - My heart and soul tells me that Abi would be an illustrator for children's books - or a stay at home mom

Kieran - My little Princess Pupcup is getting his degree in Equine science and becoming a veterinarian for horsies

Micah - Hitman or Dishwasher no in between

Bill - Gas Station clerk - Or I can also imagine him working with Kieran with the horses

Javier - Performer, duh - He does a lot of side gigs and plays at cafes on the reg - I can also imagine him being a Spanish tutor for kids

Susan - Let's be honest, she's the principal of a high school or middle school - any other answer is wrong (/j)

Lenny - He's also a writer, but he's not a fanfiction writer like Mary-Beth - I can also imagine him visiting Mary-Beth's library and reading to the kids on Sundays <3

Sean - Youtuber/ Twitch Streamer - need I say more???

Swanson - AA leader - He's also probably trying to get people to stop joining Dutch's MEGA church

Pearson - He's a chef for the Retirement Home that Hosea is bound to - He also works for the local soup kitchen

Karen - I can see her being a dance performer - not like a stripper, but more like ballet or even musical theater

Charles - State trooper at a National Park - No further questions

Tilly - I just imagine her as such a good lawyer like her husband - She's defiantly someone who can talk her client out of the death penalty if needed

Uncle - His job is to park his ass in a rocking chair and Bother John til the day he dies

[shotmrmiller]

Capt’ Mactavish’s wife *running* out the house for her girls night with ‘09 reader because Johnny can’t keep his hands to himself when she’s dressed up.

She’s taken to a squirt bottle. He was kissing on her neck from behind the couch. Mauling her when she whipped it out the first time. He fell back with an ‘ACK!’ and a loud thud and she’s just like ‘that’s what you get for acting like a horny teen!’

“You were tryin’ for a bairne yea? I’ve been reading up on positions! Lemme show you!” And she’s just like- I’m not going to survive this, am I? “I can pick up where we left off hen! Trust!”

I imagine Captain Mactavish went for a woman who is *younger* than himself. She’s a few years older than Soap, but she grew used to her grizzled ol’ guy and his routine! She’s old at heart now! He couldn’t immediately get it up every 3 minutes. But! He would take longer to cum, so the sessions were more intimate.

Soap? God, she’s not used to this! She needs water! They’re going into 5, 6 rounds and she’s blacking out! But, she doesn’t want to because she’s ‘scared’ he’ll keep going!!! She enjoys his enthusiasm, it’s sweet to see this part of her Johnny that she didn’t get to experience much! but, GOD DAMN *sprays squirt bottle*

…”this a subliminal message lass? This your mind trick to tell me you can squirt? Shit lass! Let’s get on that! Lemme figure it out myself!” Just talking you through the entire thing….

He’s totally asking what the baby names you were looking at were, while balls deep. what your registry looked like as he prods your cervix. Do ya’ have a Pinterest board for what ya’ want the nursery to look like? Add him, please? As he shoots his load deep. “You want a girl, or boy lass? What’re we havin’? Tell me what to give ya.” He cooed as he holds your legs up, elevated so it TAKES.

“I can pick up where we left off hen! Trust!” <- foul. foul foul foul i need him.

Captain MacTavish would totally be the sly type. Oh, the words he whispers into the ears of the ladies should be illegal. I believe he had his fun in his youth and was definitely a little older, but then he saw his wife and said, "Gunnae marry that, I am."

Wife doesn't see the similarities in their pursuit of her because one was suave about it. the other just doesn't care about what he looks like in the eyes of others, and she highkey loves that— just won't admit it.

I love love love that Capt. Soap is passionate when they have sex, but reg Soap is like im gonna get you pregnant, money back guarantee.

"Whadye mean tha' ye need a break? We've jus' begun, bonnie..." he says that 5 rounds in. Pussy is swollen, hole is abused, and she's been stuffed with so much cum it's no longer staying inside even at the angle he has her in to keep it in. She makes a mental note to (ask jeeves) if shooting blanks after finishing multiple times back-to-back is a thing.

She finds squirting embarrassing, as does when her cunt gets air inside but Soap??? Living his best life with it.

"Dinnae be embarrassed, hen, i love it when yer pussy talks back to me." <- this is so embarrassing my face is on fire

He definitely tries to get her to squirt, but he loses all patience because 'Ye just feel so good around my fingers, I cannae wait any longer.'

Soap tells her that his family has twins as he pumps her full of cum, and that he already has a list with names if she wants to go over it sometime later today.

He tells her that he's quit drinking, he's always hydrating, and that he takes his daily vitamins just to give his seed a better chance.

[reguluskeys]

jegulus snippet - 1036 words - i’m a very amateur writer </3

cw: self hatred (im projecting)

cody if you see this no u don’t

The moment James saw Regulus in the astronomy tower that night, he knew something was off. He had his legs to his chest and was resting his head on top, staring at the stars. James slowly walked towards him, and sat down with one leg dangling over the edge.

Regulus either didn’t notice him or was simply choosing to ignore him, so James tried again to get his attention.

“Reg? You ok?” James nudged the boy's shoulder. When Regulus finally looked over, James saw the face he’d seen a million times from Sirius, only- well it was different. While James could read every signal on Sirius’ face to know exactly how he was feeling, Regulus seemed to have a wall up. His lips were pressed into a line and his eyebrows were knit together into almost a scowl, but his eyes… His eyes were filled with a deep sadness that James wished he could pluck from Regulus and give to himself, just to never see it on the boy again.

Regulus’ eyes flickered, looking James over, before turning back to the night sky. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. James let the silence sit between them for a minute as he too stared at the Stars. He wondered if Regulus or Sirius were out tonight.

“Well… Something’s definitely wrong… but you don’t have to talk about it! I’ll be your ‘shoulder to cry on or whatever they say!” James gave Regulus a smile that could melt anyone’s heart.

Regulus tried to hide the small smile but James caught it immediately and laughed. “Oh! Is that a smile? Did Regulus Black just smile?” Regulus rolled his eyes but the smile didn’t fall. “Well this must go in the history books. Wizards for generations must learn of the- dare I say gorgeous - smile that you have. Personally, I feel blessed-!” Regulus cut him off with an elbow to the stomach but James just kept laughing.

“Shut up!” Regulus said, laughter in his voice. “My smile isn't- it's not ‘gorgeous.’” He let one of his legs fall and dangle over the edge, mirroring James.

“Uhm, yes it is! You even give Sirius a run for his money! Don't tell Remus I said that. Or Sirius.” At the mention of his brothers name, the smile on Regulus’ face faltered. James immediately noticed.

“Hey, you ok? Did I say something wrong?” James leaned towards Regulus and lightly put his hand on the boys shoulder. Regulus tensed and went slightly red, though James barely noticed.

“I’m fine,” he paused for a moment. “Merlin it’s just, why does Sirius treat me like I'm still 9?!” Regulus let out a frustrated groan and let the other leg fall over the edge. “Yes, I love Sirius and I want to make amends but I can fight my own battles, I can make my own decisions! He acts like I'm still the crybaby who would sneak into his room at night because I was scared a bogart was in my room, or the kid who never spoke to anyone but him because I was scared to embarrass myself.”

Though it was probably not the best moment, James was enchanted by Regulus. He’d never heard the boy speak that many words at once, let alone the amount of passion and emotion.

“I love him but sometimes I just want to strangle him or drown him in the lake!” Regulus made a vague gesture, strangling the air in front of him as though it was Sirius’ neck. James let out a small snort that Regulus thought sounded weirdly similar to that of a stag, but the thought was overtaken by the sudden embarrassment. His face was suddenly bright red.

“Well now that someone has heard my incoherent ramblings about my brother I must either kill you or myself, and right now I'd rather it be me, so goodbye James. Tell Barty he can’t have my money.” Regulus said in a completely monotone voice and began to stand up on the ledge.

“Hey wait! If you kill yourself now you’ll never be able to beat gryffindor at the quidditch match- well not that you would, i’m the best captain the schools ever seen, but you wouldn’t even get to try!” James scrambled to pull Regulus back down next to him. Regulus huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Fine, i won’t kill myself. But in exchange for you hearing that… I need to hear one of your secrets now. Not that James Potter would have much to hide.” Regulus rolled his eyes and James let out a chuckle.

James had never been a private person, everyone knew when he liked a girl or if he hated a class. Everyone could tell when a marauders prank was about to be in motion because James simply did not have a poker face.

There was one thing though. Something not even Sirius knew. His small smile didn’t falter as he looked straight ahead and spoke.

“Sometimes, I really, really hate myself.” James spoke in a calm voice, as if he’d just stated his favorite color, and not something that had just shattered Regulus’ view of the entire world. The boy just stared at James, and when he finally realized Regulus wasn’t going to say anything, he continued.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don't think I'm a bad person… I have great parents, great friends, I get good marks, I'm a quidditch captain, and if I tried hard enough I could get almost any girl I wanted, but…” James moved his glasses off his face and held them infront of him. “I don’t know I guess, sometimes there’s just something in the back of my brain telling me i’m a terrible person- that everything I do is wrong or that i’m not doing enough. Then I think about all the things i’m lucky enough to have and I hate myself even more for even having those feelings in the first place.”

Regulus took a moment to truly look at James. Not the dumb-jock facade he showed the school, no he looked at the James who despite being the embodiment of sunshine, was burning inside. The James who had bad days and the James who sometimes hated himself.

[comically-callous]

Ok you may get annoyed with me because I will continue to ask for fics about reg BECAUSE YOU WRITE HIM SO WELL LIKE AHHHHH anyway if you want me to stop please tell me :)

Anyway back to the point so I was wondering if you could do a fic where reader and reg are dating and there in the common room maybe reading together or in the dorms just cuddling or anything you can think of and like Barty and Evan come into the room and they just see reg being all soft and stuff and maybe tease him about it, it’s up to you how you want to finish it :)

Regulus black, white boy of the millennium.

Regulus black x gn!Reader

A/n: HE ☹️☹️☹️ My requests are open 😼

It had been a long day.

Regulus had gone to quidditch practice in the morning, and then had taken 3 tests during the school day. It all left him feeling burnt out and tired.

He entered the common room, fighting the urge to throw his bag to the side and flop down on to the nearest sofa. And then he saw you.

That was all it took to have him relax. He walked over to the small couch that you were sitting on in the corner of the common room.

Once he was in front of you, he wordlessly put down his bag and sat next to you, resting his head on your shoulder with a sigh.

"Hey, Regs." You said with a chuckle. "Rough day?"

"Mhm."

"Anything serious?" You asked.

"Not really."

"Well, I'm still sorry you had a rough day." You said as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. You felt him relax against you and sigh contently.

"S'okay." He mumbled as he closed his eyes. He could definitely fall asleep like this.

About an hour passed, in which you and regulus continued to cuddle.

You were playing with his hair while talking about a movie you'd watched recently, and Regulus' eyes were closed as he silently listened to your voice.

His blissful moment was interrupted by two far more annoying voices.

"Someone's looking comfortable."

Regulus opened his eyes, even though he already knew who was in front of him.

Barty and Evan stood in front of him, obviously holding back laughter.

Regulus groaned and buried his face into your neck. "Piss off." He mumbled.

"Yeah, it's a bit hard to take you seriously when you're all snuggled up, mate." Evan chuckled.

Regulus felt his face burn with embarrassment. Of course, he wasn't embarrassed to be with you. He just wasn't used to other people seeing this side of him.

"Do you idiots need something?" You asked with a playful roll of your eyes.

"Yes, actually." Barty said. "Your boyfriend promised to help us two idiots study for our transfiguration test tomorrow."

Regulus sighed in frustration. He'd promised to do that yesterday. Before he knew this day would be exhausting. "I-"

"You promised." Evan said before Regulus could ditch the two.

Regulus groaned. "Okay, fine." He begrudgingly gave in. "You two go to the library, I'll catch up."

"Will you?" Barty asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes! Just give me a minute, Gods."

Barty and Evan snickered, giving quick goodbyes before walking away. Regulus could hear them loudly laughing as they exited the common room.

"They're assholes." He mumbled to you.

You chuckled. "Yeah. But, it's affectionate." You said, rubbing his back softly.

"I should ditch them."

"Very tempting. But, no."

Regulus sighed. He knew you were right, but he wasn't happy about it. He sat up and stretched his arms above his head before turning to you. "Give me a kiss before I go?"

You smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

He smiled softly and got up, grabbing his bag. "We'll hang out after dinner?" He suggested.

"Definitely." You replied.

Regulus finally made it to the library and sat at the table where Barty and Regulus were waiting for him.

"Took you long enough, lover boy." Barty chuckled.

"Shut up. You should be glad I didn't bail on you two." Regulus said as he pulled a few textbooks from his bag. "Now can we stop wasting time and get this over with?"

Barty rolled his eyes. "Fine."

...

"So, are we invited to the wedding?"

"Shut up!"

[marlsswrites]

Summer camp AU, part 8!!

July 8th <3

Traditional - @jegulus-microfic - words: 797

First part Previous part

They were sat on their respective sides of the room, James on the left and Regulus on the right. James had a bored look on his face as he mindlessly flicked through his phone, Regulus with his face in a new book.

He flicked the page, the silence in the room suddenly too loud. He sniffed, flicking his eyes away from the book and towards James, who had resorted to attempting to flatten his hair, it wasn’t working.

“What are you doing?” Regulus chuckled.

“Does my hair look flat?” He asked desperately.

“No, it looks like a birds nest.” A groan. “I’m just being honest!”

James put the comb down and gave him a wonky smile. “I know.” He sighed and hung his head off the side of the bed, his hair now sticking straight up, Regulus resisted a laugh at the sight. “Can I ask something?”

“Depends what it is?” Regulus questioned, a quiver in his voice.

“When did you run away?” He got a weary look from Regulus. “I was just always curious why Sirius didn’t take you with him.”

He blinked slowly, it wasn’t an odd question to ask someone like him, yet coming from James it felt different. It was clearly something he’d been thinking about for a while, Regulus wanted to know why he cared so much though, judging as they met a mere few days ago.

Regulus stared at him for a moment, contemplating his next words, before he decided that James was the human embodiment of the sun, and could do no wrong even if he tried.

“I chose to stay.” James gave him an odd look. “Then as soon as I turned 18, I said goodbye to all of my parents traditional views, took the money they put away for me, and ran to Pandoras house.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Regulus snorted. “Now that’s enough of that.”

Letting out a chuckle, James nodded to him, now fishing out his laptop from under his pillow and going to stick a movie on, inviting Regulus over.

He smiled and walked over to the bed, watching as James chewed his lip in concentration as he picked a movie.

-

Don’t ask Regulus why he thought it would be a good idea to tell James to put a horror movie on, but it most definitely was the best idea he’s ever had.

“This one’s not even that scary!” He laughed out.

“Reg it’s two in the morning, and there’s a clown running around killing kids.” James gasped. “What the fuck!”

Regulus let out another snort, covering his mouth with his oversized jumper sleeve and watching as James’ eyes trailed pennywise on the screen.

“How are you laughing right now?” The older boy gave him a pointed look, turning his head to face Regulus, their noses close together and the dull light of the laptop illuminating James’ face.

Regulus coughed. “Don’t be such a wimp.”

Receiving a pout from James, he smirked in return.

Now they sat with nothing but the sound of the movie in the background, the occasional pitter patter of leaves blowing against the window and creak of the bed when either of them moved.

The scene now was quiet, the characters whispering and intense music building up. So Regulus positioned his lips right up against James ear and gave a short. “Boo.”

The James let out the highest pitched squeal known to man, jumping back and proceeding to glare at Regulus.

“That wasn’t funny!”

But Regulus was laughing, head thrown back against the wall, rosy aching cheeks and a lightness to his face that even he knew was rare.

James didn’t speak, Regulus looked over at him, smile still on his face as he raised a mocking eyebrow at the older boy. “You-“ He threw a pillow at Regulus. “Little shit.”

“Aw, but you like me.” Regulus spoke in a mimicking voice, blinking up at James. The brunette didn’t say another word, smiling and shaking his head fondly before looking back to the screen.

Regulus tried to avert his attention to the movie, he really did, but James looked so happy.

Yes, he looked good, jaw dropping gorgeous even. But it wasn’t just that, there was a kind twinkle in his eyes and a quirk to his lips, a genuine smile. Not the one he puts on for people, because he doesn’t have to do that with Regulus. It’s a sweet one, short, small, but sweet none the less.

He’d much rather watch James than the movie, he never realised just purely looking at someone be happy can bring him so much joy, bubbling up inside him and making him want to hold onto the smiling boy and never let go.

Next part

[badbatchsprincess]

Heated ~ pt.5

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18 ~ Pt.19 ~ Pt.20 ~ Pt.21 ~ Pt.22 ~ Pt.23 ~ Pt.24 ~ Pt.25

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 

Warnings: Skinny dipping, Wolffe's massive D, some minor agression/violence, possessive behaviors, general Crosshair assholery, Hunter's an idiot

Bruh we finally gonna get through this slow burn I promise. Bear with me. Anyways...get intoit I guess

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

"Again… or Lula gets it." Crosshair aimed his pistol at the stuffed bunny sitting on top of one of the crates.

Both you and Wrecker screamed, demanding Lula’s immediate liberation, but he just fired a warning shot, barely missing her ear.

"Alright!" You screamed under duress. You turned back to Hunter, who was waiting for you to strike. "Kriffing dictator," you mumbled, making Hunter snort.

"Lock in, Pip," Hunter rasped. "One pin and you can go eat lunch."

You huffed, knowing this was going to be a challenge. The past week had been tough on all of you. You had been enlisted in joining the other medics in caring for the injured regs, which, after the first few days, you realized the campaign in liberating Kashyyyk from separatist and Trandoshan occupation was going to take much longer than anyone had anticipated. The problem seemed to be worse than the Jedi Council had thought.

The boys had become relentless in your training. The second you’d be off shift, they’d be lording your food overhead in exchange for a few hours of combat training. You complied, desperate for something to fill your belly. You noticed you were starting to get stronger, your body was getting a little more hardened, and you were starting to actually like it, though you’d never tell them that, or else they’d just keep you at it until you collapsed.

Your little training sessions even started to get the attention of the 104th boys. They’d gather in small groups, trying to watch you like a sporting event. You were confused at first, but Tech informed you they were staring because they’ve never seen an omega fight before. It was unnatural, to Crosshair's point.

But even the grumpy sniper came around; he realized being with them, a special forces group, put you in a uniquely vulnerable position compared to an average medic. (It definitely wasn’t because Hunter beat him over the head with the idea until he agreed.) That's when he started threatening Lula’s life to coerce you into playing their games.

"Get him, omega!" A couple of Wolf Pack boys barked from the trees. You were pretty sure they were the same clones you had treated that morning.

You glared at them and then dropped your fists, looking to Hunter with soft eyes, begging him to stop. He relaxed, recognizing you were uncomfortable, deciding to end your training early. The 104th boys groaned disappointed, making Hunter shrug. Even Crosshair sighed annoyingly, lowering his blaster.

When you were in close enough proximity to your unsuspecting Sergeant, you quickly snaked your boot out, just like he showed you, and flipped him to the ground. You saw a brief moment of surprise when he hit the moss-covered floor before his eyes focused in. Just when you were about to jump on top of him to make the pin, he rolled both of you and shoved you off.

You briefly heard the Wolf Pack cheering when you recovered and swung your leg out, taking him down to the ground again. This time you were ready and rolled into his side, grabbing his arm, wrenching it back. He curled in, wrapping his legs around your torso, trying to pry you off. Just when he nearly had you in a pin, you jabbed your two fingers into a nerve point in his thigh, making him yelp and release you. That gave you just enough time to slam your body on top of him and hold him for the pin.

"Damn," Wolffe crossed his arms, walking up to the two of you from the clearing, impressed with what he was seeing.

"Good job," Hunter stood up, helping you with him. "You’re getting better, Pip."

"Can I go eat now?" You asked pleadingly, hearing your stomach growl.

He just nodded and let you go. You smiled and ran off with Wrecker, starving for Echo’s cooking.

Wolffe stood there watching you disappear back into the Marauder with his good eye. "Why are you training her?"

Hunter crossed his arms. "She’s been in some tough situations. She doesn’t have the same protections she would have with the 501st when working with us."

Wolffe nodded. "I heard about the incident on Crait. General Plo is concerned with the implications."

Hunter nodded solemnly. It was still a bit of a sore topic if he was being honest. He prided himself on being a good Sergeant who cared deeply for his unit and tried his best to keep them safe even in the most dangerous scenarios.

"Have you heard anything else?" Wolffe asked.

Hunter just shook his head. "Nothing beyond what we experienced. Though I’m sure the council has it under control."

Wolffe just nodded and turned to look at the war camp in the distance. Campfires billowed in the distance while his men gathered, making their meals.

"So…" He noticed Hunter side-eye him. "She yours or what?"

Hunter narrowed his glare. "Commander?" He felt his heart rate increase and a possessive tightness in his chest.

"Did you mate her on Crait?" Wolffe pressed.

Hunter faced him square on.

"Y/N is her own person," Hunter corrected, trying to keep his calm despite his growing hatred for the scarred alpha in front of him. "Besides almost killing her, no, no one has laid a hand on her."

Wolffe just rolled his eyes. "You don’t have to pretend with me, Sergeant. No alpha can resist that."

Hunter bit his tongue, wanting nothing more than to punch that smug look off of Wolffe’s face. Hunter was all too aware of how you made the regs turn their heads when you graced them with your presence. He knew his men were guilty of it as well. Y/N was a perfect omega. Every alpha's scents seemed to spike in your presence; he was shocked you couldn’t smell it. They were all praying you’d give them a little attention or a gentle touch. It was driving him crazy.

"Relax," Wolffe looked at Hunter's flexing fists. "I won’t do anything to your little medic… unless she asks." His smile was devilish. Hunter watched the Commander return back to his men, who were getting rowdy in the field up ahead.

Hunter took a deep breath, trying to force his racing heartbeat to calm. Crosshair came prowling up behind him silently like a loth-cat. "What was that all about?"

Hunter grunted and looked at his brother. "He asked if she was my mate."

Crosshair put a new toothpick up to his lips. "He’s been after her since Coruscant." Crosshair’s tone was nonchalant. "He’ll lose interest eventually."

Hunter shook his head annoyed; he doubted that. He returned back to the Marauder with Crosshair for their lunch before Wrecker elected to eat their portions too.

Hunter was going to be keeping an eye on Wolffe from here on out… that was final.

It was about the fifth week into the battle of Kashyyyk when you noticed the change. The boys seemed to have altered their behavior around you drastically.

At first, it seemed harmless, just alphas being alphas. They’d walk at least five paces behind you everywhere, even when you’d be called into a shift in the triage tent. They’d wait outside, talking, until it was time for you to clock out and return back with them for more training.

Then it turned into something… different.

It first started with Crosshair when he had decided he wanted to teach you how to start shooting more long-range. He had arranged you how he liked on the ground around firepuncher. When he wasn’t happy with your grip, he knelt down next to you, keeping his hands on yours a little longer than usual. Then came your positioning. He suddenly decided he didn’t like that either, so he kneeled down, using his own knees to part your legs and push your left into a more bent position. You felt your face heat up as your ass pressed against his firm thighs. He acted like nothing was amiss, but you were struggling more than usual trying to hit the target in front of you.

Then there was Tech. He had asked for a bit of assistance when fiddling with some panels under the ship’s console. You laid down next to him, helping hold some wires while he soldered carefully, and instead of asking you to pass him the needle-nose pliers, he just reached over you, pressing you into the ground with his weight. You struggled to breathe calmly as his face nearly pressed into your neck while he reached for the tools. He had done this a few more times, making you absolutely squirm next to him.

Wrecker had been a little more needy the past few weeks, asking you to look at small cuts and bruises. You think it was just because you had always babied him a little more than the others, but now he was becoming insistent that you look at every single injury and giving you a pout if you denied him. You were suspecting he was causing these little injuries just to get your attention.

Lastly was Hunter. While he was a bit more discreet, he definitely didn’t miss an opportunity to brush up against you or place a hand on your back as he passed by. One particular night you had been bent over the bathroom sink rinsing toothpaste from your mouth when he suddenly needed to shimmy by you to grab his razor from the shower caddy. You had shot up, and he apologized with a tap to your hip before leaving with his things. You just stood there in shock, trying to figure out if you were just imagining things.

This morning, Tech accompanied you when you had to clock in for rotations at the medic’s tent. You gave him a little wave before disappearing through the canvas curtains. You walked up to the 104th medic in charge and handed him your charge card. He punched you into the system and let you go on your way.

"Hey Y/N!" Your new friend, Tanan, called out to you. He was an omega in the GAR civilian medic program too and he has been stationed with the 104th since the beginning of their campaign.

"Hi Tanan." You smiled, setting down your canteen and snack sack.

"Got a lot coming in today," he said, looking around at all of the regs lying in cots. He flipped back his blonde hair, trying to tie it behind his head to keep it out of his brown eyes.

"What happened?" You noticed all of their field bandages.

"Shrapnel," he replied, sanitizing his laser suture.

"Bomb?" You looked around at the charring on their armor, letting you know it was some kind of incendiary.

"Most likely," he said, handing you a pair of gloves. You grabbed a pair of sterile tweezers and walked up to the first trooper who was sitting on the edge of his cot.

"Hello, trooper," you smiled and softly approached him.

He looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you the medic?" he asked.

You nodded and knelt down next to him, setting your things next to him on the cot.

"Mhmm. I’m Y/N."

"I’m CT- 3678, but my vod call me Tack."

"Nice to meet you, Tack." You reached out, tilting his face to the side. There was a tattoo running along the side of his neck all the way under the collar of his blacks.

"What happened?" You asked, picking up the tweezers and starting to pluck little shards of metal out of his cheek.

"Clankers set off a big one," he said, looking up at you, "never seen something like that before."

"It was guerrilla Trandoshan made," a clone behind Tack chimed in.

You just scrunched your nose disapprovingly and concentrated on your work. The alpha in front of you relaxed the more you plucked from him. You were certain it was uncomfortable. A lot of shrapnel patients have been coming in the past few days, but today seemed to be the worst. The metal was strange, shimmering green, nothing like you’d ever seen before.

"I don’t recognize your clothes," Tack said, looking at your green pants, "Are you GAR?"

"Oh yeah," you smiled, "My uniform got messed up a few weeks ago after the first wave so I had to resort to the civvies." The white GAR uniform didn’t stand a chance out here on the front lines. Instead, you opted for your darks and your identifying badge.

"Ahh," he said, nodding.

"I’m not usually out of base for this long so I wasn’t really prepared."

"You’re not with the 104th?" He asked. He must be a shiny.

"No." You tilted his head back and forth, looking for any missed pieces, "I’m with the 99’s."

"The 99’s?" The other clone asked from over Tack’s shoulder, "The commandos?"

You nodded. "Alright, I think I got it all. Let me get some bacta, and you’ll be cleared." You grabbed an applicator and began dotting it over the cuts.

"Wait, are you the omega Commander’s always talking about?"

"What?" You looked at the other clone, giving Tack a tap on the shoulder, letting him stand.

"Yeah, he’s always going on about the omega running with the 99’s!" He smiled, "Told us about the attack on Crait."

You paled. In the background, a clone trooper screamed in pain, making you focus back on your work.

"What’s your name?" You asked, moving on to him, grabbing your scanner.

"Grim."

"I’m Y/N, and yeah, I guess I’m that omega." You shook your head and started scanning the clone. You noticed the way he clutched his arm, and your scans confirmed it was dislocated.

"Sweet." He looked at you with playful eyes. You raised a brow at him, "You got something to say, trooper?"

He smiled, "Commander said you were pretty…"

You took his arm and looked him in the eyes before aggressively resetting the limb. He let out a pained gasp, not expecting you to do that so suddenly and mercilessly.

"He was right." He gritted out, clutching the arm.

"What’s your position?" You asked, walking over to the supply bin to get a fresh sling. You ripped open the plastic baggie and walked back over to him.

"Sniper," he groused, starting to feel the dull pain in his shoulder.

You laughed, "Oh, you’d like one of my alphas then…"

He quirked a brow, "One of?”

You felt your cheeks redden. "Sorry, they're pack. I meant, we have an enhanced sniper. His name is Crosshair. He hates everyone though... except firepuncher."

Grim chuckled. "Oh yes, my little lady is my favorite girl as well." He gestured to the rifle leaned up against his cot. You just smiled and sent him on his way.

What is it with snipers and their guns?

The day continued like this. Tech only came to bother you when Echo had lunch ready, but by the time the sun was setting, you were exhausted and covered in blood and various gross fluids. With a sigh, you cracked your back and stretched your arms, eager to eat some chow and get to bed, but first, you wanted to wash up.

The Marauder’s water supply had been recycled too many times to be considered usable, so your squad had resorted to hiking down to the river to wash up and do laundry. You had begged Tech to fly the Marauder closer to the lake to drain the reserves and refill with fresh water, but he didn’t want to waste any fuel before they could return to Coruscant. You pouted but knew he was right in the end.

"Ready?" Crosshair asked, meeting you outside the medic center.

You just nodded and followed after him as he walked you through the camp. You passed groups of men you’d "kind of" come to know over the past few weeks, along with Wookiee leaders and warriors. Once you passed through the camp, the hike back to the Marauder was mostly in the dark. All you could see was the campfire in the distance, with Echo tending to whatever meat Wrecker and Hunter had tracked down that day.

"I’m going to wash up first." You gestured to your ruined outfit. He just nodded and detoured to the fire while you rifled through your things, looking for the soap packets and a fresh pair of clothes.

"I’ll be back!" You called out to the boys before starting your trek through the darkening woods. Passing all the familiar trail markers, you could hear the river rushing up ahead. You grabbed your little solar lantern and flicked it on, setting it down on your favorite rock. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, you began stripping down to nothing, throwing your dirty clothes in the wash basket you had woven with Tech’s instruction on the second week on Kashyyyk.

You took a deep breath before toeing into the freezing cold water. You let out a little squeal as you sank in, fully submerging yourself in the lazy water. This was the moment where you always began to miss the heated showers on the Marauder. The water was chilling, it made your muscles start to lock up if you took too long.

Moving quickly, you reached up to the rock, grabbing a packet of hair wash and tearing open the brown paper, pouring the contents into your hand. You rubbed your hands together, causing the powder to rehydrate, and then you lathered it everywhere. Scrubbing your scalp aggressively, you were determined to get every little bit of sweat and blood out of your locks. Once satisfied, you sunk under the water, letting the current rinse out the suds.

When you resurfaced, you heard the telltale sound of someone approaching through the woods. You lowered yourself below the currents and silently huddled closer to the rock, feeling your heart start to race.

"Nah, Corporal said tomorrow we have a new mission objective—" One of the men said. You peeked around from your hiding spot to see a trooper chucking his shirt over his head and throwing it onto a rock, reaching down for his waistband.

You bit your lip and moved back around the rock, determined to finish up and get out without being seen. You reached up and turned off your lantern and grabbed your body detergent. You quickly got to work, taking your scrub brush to your nails, trying to get as much crusted blood out of them while the men bathed, unaware of your presence.

You heard them continue to talk about Corporal Comet as they stripped down and jumped into the water, yelling and making all types of noise.

It was time to scrub your dirtied clothes after giving them some time to soak. You reached around the rock, grabbing the loose weave basket and bringing it in front of you. In the process, you knocked over a round rock, hearing it plonk into the river.

"Hey! What was that?" One of the men said, and your heart jumped.

"Kriff," you whispered, throwing your unwashed clothes up onto the shore and crawled out, grabbing your towel. You quickly wrapped it around you and squatted down to finish your washing. You heard them coming and knew you had no other option but to just stay there and pretend like you didn’t hear them.

"Warthog, is that you?" You heard one of them yell.

"Tryna cop a peek?" They laughed from over the stones.

"You're a freak," one of them chastised.

You just tucked the towel a little tighter around yourself as one of them climbed around one rock, stopping in their tracks.

"Oh shit!" He immediately realized his mistake. "S-sorry…"

"What are you looking at, trooper?..."

Then you were met with one grey, scarred eye that made your throat instantly tighten up.

Up above, Wolffe and one of his troopers stared down at you in all their naked glory. You coughed and quickly shot your eyes upward, trying to avoid looking at their bodies. Clone standards apparently didn’t apply to the Commander. He was well-endowed, and you instantly felt your face redden at the realization.

Only the trooper had the humility to be self-conscious, covering himself and shrinking back down the rock and into the water. Meanwhile, the commander in front of you didn’t seem phased in the slightest; he carried himself with so much confidence standing there.

He let out a low whistle. "Sorry, mesh’la," he smirked. "Didn’t know you were over here."

"I’m just finishing up," you fidgeted, tightening your towel and praying for him to go back to his washing.

"No need to rush on our account," he flashed you a charming smile, showing off his white teeth as he folded his arms across his broad, muscular chest, puffing out slightly. He had a couple of scars littering his pecs along with a wolf tattoo on his ribs. He was clearly enjoying your mortification.

"I, uh... I…" You went to step back, but a loose rock wobbled under your bare foot, causing you to lose your balance. Wolffe reached forward to catch you, but when he grabbed your arm, you both went tumbling into the water. You screamed as you were totally submerged in the freezing water; all you heard was his disgruntled grunt before being swept under.

The undercurrents suddenly made it difficult to surface as you felt yourself being dragged downstream, ripping your towel from your body as you passed over bedrocks. You paddled weakly, but you weren’t a skilled swimmer, and the water was much stronger this far out.

You suddenly felt a warm arm wrap around your midsection, and the force of the water as Wolffe dragged you up to the surface, clutching you close to his front. You pawed wildly at the water, sputtering and coughing like a drowned tooka as he swam with the two of you.

"I got you," he said, finding his footing and lifting the two of you into the shallows again. "Relax!"

You went limp under his arm, letting him rescue the two of you. His broad hand wrapped securely around your rib cage, holding you firm against his large body as he trudged closer to shore. When he finally could keep the two of your heads above water, you tried wriggling free again, suddenly hyper-aware of your nakedness.

"Omega. Stop," he growled, trying to keep his grip. He leaned forward, grabbing onto a smooth rock and hauling you out of the path of the currents. You panted, trying to calm your racing heart. You weren’t sure if it was from the fear of drowning or the fact that Wolffe’s deliciously strong and warm naked body was pleasantly pressed against your back right now. You wanted to rub yourself further into him; your entire body was freezing except for the warmth radiating off of him, it was sinful.

"Wolffe," you cleared your throat, coughing up the last of the water.

He slowly let go of you, keeping you on the shallower side of the riverbank. You wrapped your arms around your chest, covering yourself before turning to face him. "Thanks," you sighed, shoving your soaked hair back out of your eyes and letting yourself catch your panicked breath.

"Any time, mesh’la," he said, fighting to catch his breath, letting his chest heave. "Your boys always keeping you out of trouble, huh?"

You laughed quietly, starting to shiver. "Pretty much."

"Come here," he said, offering you his hand. You hesitantly took it and let him pull you into him so he could warm you. Keeping one hand sturdy on the rock, he used the other to hold you close and warm your chilled skin. You shuddered, pressing further into his plush chest. His scent was delicious, spiced and salty. You couldn’t help but take a deep breath in, letting it dance along your scent receptors; your omega was thrilled.

"Can you swim?" he asked softly.

You shook your head. "I was born and raised on Coruscant. I’ve never swum before or even really seen so much water before." You remembered what Rex had told you about Tapoca City and how the entire civilization was surrounded by water. The clones probably had plenty of swimming experience.

"Cyra’ika, you gotta be more careful," he shook his head, rubbing your back soothingly.

"I know," you agreed. "I didn’t really anticipate this happening." You felt his rough hands rub slow circles into your back, and you sighed, finally starting to warm up again.

“I lost my towel,” you groaned, realizing you had absolutely nothing to dry yourself off with or keep you covered in any way.

“I’ll get you mine,” he said, standing up straight and looking over your shoulder. “Stay here.”

You nodded and sat down on the smooth rock, keeping your chest covered as he crawled out of the river and began walking back to where his men were.

“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head. Echo’s going to eat this up, you already knew.

Wolffe returned quickly, sporting a pair of black briefs when he handed you his towel. You took it from him, keeping your back turned as you wrapped yourself in it. It smelled like him, warmed spice, and you fought back a little purr bubbling up in your chest.

“Here,” he handed you his hand again. “Let’s get you back.”

To your pack. You hesitated, making him furrow his brow. You took his hand, but you knew this was going to cause a ruckus. He helped pull you up the slippery rock as you used the other hand to hold his towel closed, trying to keep a shred of your dignity together.

You could already hear the lecture Hunter was going to give you. Spending time alone with the Commander, nonetheless naked. Ugh. You should have told Wolffe to let you drown. But the view as the Commander’s tight ass was certainly was making it worth it. His back was rippled with muscles along with his sturdy thighs. You wanted to lean forward and sink your teeth into him. You had to take a deep breath before things got out of control and he noticed arousal scenting from you.

When Wolffe finally got you back to where you had left your things, you quickly realized, in your fall, the splash had soaked your clothes too.

“Kriff,” you bent down, holding up your little sleep t-shirt. The grey fabric was soaked through along with your fresh panties and sleep pants.

Wolffe just snickered and turned his back, letting you change in peace. Well, at least he’s honorable, you thought to yourself when you brought the soggy shirt over your head. You slid your panties up, cringing at the coldness, and then finally the sleep pants.

“This is awful,” you mumbled, picking up your other things. Wolffe laughed and left to get changed too, yelling something to his unit about returning to camp. They hollered at him when he returned to find you standing there with your wet laundry and dirty clothes in hand.

He took the lantern and let you lead the way through the now-dark forest. When you started to smell whatever food Echo had doctored up, your stomach growled, desperate for a hot meal.

“You should go,” you turned to take the solar lantern in your hands.

“Why?” he smirked. “Afraid your pack won’t approve?”

“I know they won’t,” you jested. “They’re protective.”

He gave an amused huff. “Well, thanks for the thrill, omega,” he smiled, turning on his heel back towards the river, giving you a good view of that ass.

“My name is Y/N!” you called after him.

“I know,” he winked at you.

You bit your lip, watching him fully disappear into the darkness before you trudged the last trail back to the Marauder. Your head was spinning. You thanked the maker you had your suppressor implant; without it, you knew you’d be acting like a pathetic horny teenager. Being rescued by a hot, rugged alpha had to be top-tier omega fantasy material. You giggled, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. You bit your lip thinking about how solid he felt against your back and wondered how solid other parts of him were too…

When you rounded the corner of the Marauder, you found your pack carrying on with their little evening tasks.

“Y/N, you’re back,” Tech acknowledged you before squinting his eyes, scrutinizing your attire. “Why are you wet?”

You looked down, realizing how pathetic you looked. “I, uh… I fell into the currents and almost drowned,” Wrecker spun around, looking at you in shock.

“Are you okay?” he asked, standing up and putting his dinner bowl down. Hunter looked at you from his bowl too. You thought it was strange he didn’t immediately ask as well. He looked almost… angry?

“Yeah, I’m just cold,” you set your things down and wrung out your hair, shivering.

Crosshair suddenly appeared from the darkness of the direction of the 104th war camp. You didn’t even notice him walk up on you.

One second you were standing next to the fire, and the next you were being thrown up against the side of the Marauder with Crosshair's arm being shoved across your chest with a rough thud. You yelped when your back connected with the hard durasteel.

“Crosshair!” Wrecker yelled in shock. “What the fuck?”

You looked at him wildly, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. He gave you a nasty look. “I can smell him from their camp,” he snarled, pushing you a little harder with a deep, menacing growl.

You let out a pained whine as he pushed you harder against the ship. You desperately looked to Hunter to intervene, but he just sat there, fisting his spork.

Crosshair bared his teeth at you. “You fuck him, huh Y/N? That kriffing reg!”

Feeling yourself panic, your instincts took over, and you bared your neck to him in submission, praying it would appease him. “Alpha, please… it hurts.” Your voice was pathetic, but you’d never had any of your packmates ever corner you like this. It was terrifying.

He snapped down to you slightly, letting up on you just a little. The use of his designation seemed to soften him slightly.

Then in a flash, a blur of dark grey came from the left, and Crosshair was suddenly thrown from your chest. You collapsed down to your knees, clutching your damp chest, heaving. When you looked over to the right, you saw Wolffe and Crosshair throwing punches at one another in a flurry on the ground.

You let out a horrified scream that echoed throughout the forest, causing Hunter to wince.

“Get your fucking hands off of her,” Wolffe landed a particularly hard punch to Crosshair’s jaw. “She’s your pack!”

Crosshair returned his fist in kind to his solar plexus, making the Commander lunge forward and throw the sniper into the side of the ship just next to you. You cried out and ran towards Wrecker for safety while the two Alphas got into it. The big clone wrapped his arms around you protectively, keeping you out of the way of harm and swinging fists.

“Keep your fucking hands off her, reg!” Crosshair growled.

“What the hell is going on up here?” A few regs from the camp started making their way over, hearing the commotion. Hunter put his bowl down and walked over to the two fighting and grabbed Wolffe by the shirt, wrenching him up off of his brother.

You took a breath, thinking Hunter was going to break up the fight. Instead, you watched your Sergeant wind his fist back and throw a sharp punch to Wolffe’s cheek. It connected with a snap, and you were certain you saw blood.

Then it was madness. Wolffe’s men jumped into the fight, forcing Echo and Tech to run in as backup, their brothers. It was nothing but a whirlwind of fists and boots and raging alphas. The other regs and some Wookiees stood on the sides, yelling at the brawl.

“Stop, please!” You screamed and begged, feeling the tears slide down your cheeks. “Alpha, please!”

No one was listening. The fight only seemed to get more violent. You cried and turned back to Wrecker, refusing to watch the brutality. He just maneuvered you two out of the way and kept his hand on the back of your wet head, trying to console you, even though it was killing him he couldn’t leave to help his brothers.

“Alright, enough!” A booming voice shook the camp. Master Plo stood before the group, using a deep commanding voice and the force.

The fighting seized immediately. The regs froze in place, fists raised and bloody. Wolffe threw Crosshair off of him, and he walked over to you, raising your chin to make sure your alpha hadn’t hurt you ignoring Wrecker’s warning glare.

The general crossed his arms, looking at the absolute disaster his commander was directly involved in. Then he looked to you and extended an arm in your direction. “Are you alright, little Y/N? Are you hurt?” He used the same tone he had used with Ahsoka when they were together. Plo’s fatherly concern made you cry more.

You shook your head. “I’m alright, General,” the tears still poured down your face. Wrecker gave your back a little rub.

Plo nodded and looked back to the panting alphas.

“Back to your bunks,” he ordered, forcing all of the regs to leave, wiping the blood from their lips.

That left you with the general, Wrecker, and Wolffe.

Wolffe just looked at you, despite the blood dripping from his brow and chin. His eyes were searching for something.

“This ends now,” General Plo pointed down towards the ground with emphasis. “We have a war to focus on.”

“Yes, General,” they all replied, including your unit.

When Plo Koon turned on his heel and stalked back to camp, you felt Wolffe’s hand press up against your arm. “There’s always room for you with us,” he looked over his shoulder. “If you want.” He was giving you an out.

The alpha was making an official offer to adopt you into his pack. Your heart started beating fast the longer you gazed up into his eyes. It was a big offer. Clearly, Wolffe didn’t trust the others to play nice.

Crosshair had to put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder before the Sergeant started another fight. Seeing his hands on you was making him feral.

You just nodded and thanked him for saving you one last time before watching him follow his General through the dark grass. When you turned back to the others, your face turned into a snarl. You couldn’t even speak to them. You shoved Wrecker’s hands off of you and you marched up the stairs of the ship before locking yourself in your bunk.

~~~

You kept your back turned on Tech when he finally returned to the bunks. He was smart not to say anything, tasting your anger in the air. When you finally heard all of them settle in for the night and their grumbling hushed down, you got up to confirm your theory and stepped out into the galley. All of their doors were closed, and you walked down to Wrecker’s bunk, hitting the access panel to let the door slide open.

He lifted his head, staring at your form in the doorway.

“Pip?” he asked, squinting his eyes to see you in the dark. “What are you doing?”

“Can I stay with you?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Uh, yeah. Sure!” He tried his best to shimmy over to give you what little room he could on his comically small bunk.

You lifted the blanket and slid in next to him, letting out an angry huff. He didn’t ask because he already knew what was wrong. He just let you maneuver however you wanted before you settled into his side. He clutched Lula to his chest and let out a big yawn before quickly falling into a deep sleep. You only wished you could fall asleep as easily as Wrecker; the giant snoozed peacefully while you lay awake.

You breathed in his comforting scent and stared at his door, knowing Hunter was just across the hall, probably nursing his wounds. Good, you thought. He should be hurting for letting Crosshair do what he did.

You were seething.

He let Crosshair manhandle you like a fucking animal without even intervening. He just sat there, looking pissed behind his stupid bowl of rations. He probably had heard you and Wolffe and that's why he didn’t step in… stupid territorial fuck head alphas. 

Even Tech, sweet Tech, of all the brothers you thought would come to your aid… nope. He just sat there watching it unfold.

You’re giving Echo a hall pass because he was busy making the food and definitely didn’t have enough time to react before Wolffe stepped in. Plus, you knew you’d need someone to talk to.

You shivered, thinking about that murderous look in the commander’s eyes. He must have heard from the woods and came running to your aid. Twice in one night, the alpha came to your rescue.

Then he offered you a place in his pack… You rubbed your exhausted eyes, rolling over onto your back. Wrecker grumbled something in his sleep before reaching an arm over and wrapping it around your middle, snuggling you closer like you were Lula. You decided this was a problem for tomorrow, but right now you wanted to go to sleep. The day had finally caught up to you, and you felt yourself slipping.

You relaxed into Wrecker’s warmth and let sleep take you.

~~~

“It’s been a week,” Hunter grizzled, watching you leave for your morning shift. Echo was the only one you’d allow to accompany you on your little journeys into the growing war camp. Other than that, you haven’t even looked at your unit, letting them stew in your silence.

Tech shifted uncomfortably, “I believe she’s waiting for us to apologize.”

Crosshair grunted, “For what?”

“Well, you did force her to submit under your threatening behavior,” Tech looked to his little brother, “Most omegas don’t take too kindly to that.”

“What do you know about omegas?” Crosshair narrowed his eyes.

Tech just bristled and continued staring at the breakfast grains.

“She can’t keep this up much longer,” Hunter sighed.

“I hate it!” Wrecker sobbed, “You better say you're sorry!” Wrecker missed you. You hadn’t been talking to anyone, and that included him. He just watched you in silence when you came back to the ship to sleep and change your clothes. He tried so many times to bribe you into giving him attention, but you just smiled and nodded instead.

“She’s most likely going to take up Wolffe’s offer if either of you don’t say something,” Tech looked at Hunter, who just soured over his breakfast, “I’m seldomly wrong.”

“He can have her if she prefers those regs,” Crosshair snapped.

Wrecker just groaned and threw his head back dramatically.

“Fine,” Hunter stood up, “I’ll go and apologize. Hopefully, she’s willing to listen.”

“A little groveling may be beneficial,” Tech pushed his goggles up his nose, “and she usually enjoys being fed snacks. That may be a good bribe.”

Hunter brushed off his pants and began his walk into camp, “Thanks for the recommendation.” Hunter felt like ripping out his own nails might be more pleasurable than facing the brewing wrath of his tiny little medic.

Hunter was approaching the ridge when he heard a strange buzzing. Looking around, he didn’t see anything but instead grabbed his com, “Hey, does anyone else hear that?”

“Negative, Sarge,” Wrecker responded.

Hunter then looked to his left and noticed a formation of strange-looking LAAT/c ships approaching. They slowed on approach to the camp, and Hunter noticed that they were empty inside. Where were the infantry? He reached for his scopes to get a better look.

Then something unexpected happened. The gunships halted their advance, and Hunter noticed multiple battle droids appear inside the main cabins.

“Oh shit,” he started running towards the camp, “Battle droids on approach!” He yelled into the com, hoping anyone would hear him, “Commander Wolffe come in!”

Then the camp suddenly turned into madness. The battle droids pushed out red-looking torpedoes from the side openings, watching them plummet directly into the war camp below. With a massive explosion, plumes of crimson powder billowed over the entire camp like a fog. Hunter froze in place, staring in horror as the smoke began to spread rapidly among the 104th.

“Oh no,” Tech caught up to Hunter, coming to the same halt, “Is that-”

Hunter’s attention immediately went to the triage center, “Y/N…”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Dunndundun...

Next chapter gonna be a doozie... sryntsry the slow burn's turning into a wild fire next update.

Taglist: @substantial-exposure @rains-on-kamino @minimissmoo

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Crosshair Bodyguard Pt 2

<<<Part 1. Part 3>>>

He lingers and hovers when given orders as though his internal monologue is convincing him to break the rules that he held so dearly just to get a moment alone with you.

It had gotten to the point that even his brothers had begun to tease him about his mannerisms around you.

You know the exact moment when he entered a room or if he was already present, his whole body would swivel towards your direction as though you were the most important thought that inhabits his mind.

He waits for you at the start of stairs or at the entrance of starships just so he would be the first to lend his hand to help you up.

His gloved hands would wrap around yours with such yearning that you felt the immediate loss of his touch instantly.

He goes out of his way for you even when you had told him it wasn’t necessary, like walking you back to your room just to be sure you got there safely and then entering your room with your permission to make sure it was safe.

He checked all the possible spots but his attentive gaze grazed your bed, then you and his fingers clutched around his rifle even tighter. It was as though he had gotten himself distracted.

“All clear.”, he stated as he started towards the door when you blocked his exit, mustering up all your courage. Pushing the door panels behind you till you heard a soft click.

“I have some bad news to share.”, you started and he shifted his weight. “My field work is coming to an end, I’ve been assigned to train the new batch of Padawans.”, you held your nerves together as you broke the news to him. You had been mulling over the fact that this might be the last time you would see him and have him around you.

“I can still be assigned - he began to speak but you cut him off. “Clone force 99 is only assigned for missions, I will have an other reg assigned to me.”, you looked away as you held back from saying more. “I already asked.”, you pursed your lips in the hopes it wouldn’t give you away.

“We can still be friends.”, you quickly added fearing that his silence meant he was ok with this distance and it broke your heart. “Friends?”, his voice was strained but annoyed.

“Jedi do not foster such relationships.”, his answer was immediate and you looked away as tears threatened to fall. He shifted his weight again.

“And you? Are you bound by duty as well?”, you asked, it felt so childish but some part of you wanted his answer.

“Clones are soldiers first, we are bound to our orders.”, he straightened but even with his helmet on, you could feel the weight of his gaze.

You pushed away, in an attempt to hide your tears but as you moved he was quick to reach for your wrist and pulled you towards him. But when did, he watched a single tear drop trickled down your cheek and it was enough to shatter his cold heart.

“Order me to stay.”, he said softly, the words slipped his lips only because he could not contain it anymore.

He had only a few seconds prior stated you were incapable of loving, but the more you denied it and the more he stuck to his duty, this special affinity for Crosshair only grew to consume your soul.

“You said it yourself, I am a Jedi and you are a Clone. We are both bound by duty.”, he heard you say and he hated himself more. You pulled your hand away from his and it burned like he had dipped his fingers into a fire pit.

He watched you walk away towards the window, he knew very well he was the reason for your tears and for his own heartbreak. He never missed the mark with his rifle but with his words, he was miserable. If he reached for you now, would you forgive him?

But his instinct kicked, he was a sniper first, he liked to stay hidden and right this second, he felt rather vulnerable with how exposed and raw his emotions felt. He didn’t want to fracture this relationship any further, so he turned away and left.

I will most definitely be writing a part 3

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Maybe pt. 12

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

Election Day is here and brings new complications for you and Norm.

Part 1 Here Part 6 Here Part 11 Here

Part 2 Here Part 7 Here

Part 3 Here Part 8 Here

Part 4 Here Part 9 Here

Part 5 Here Part 10 Here

You and Norm sat in the Vault 33 common area, surrounded by the buzz of activity that always accompanied election day. Red, white, and blue American flags adorned the walls, colorful posters adorned the walls, and the air was filled with a sense of civic duty and anticipation. It seemed like every corner of the vault was plastered with posters, each bearing the face and promises of two of the three candidates, Woody and Reg; Betty’s face notably missing among the sea of posters. Their slogans screamed for attention from every surface, vying for votes with promises of better food rations, more recreational time, enhanced security measures, and a better tomorrow. The room around you was loud with conversation, laughter, and the occasional debate as friends and neighbors discussed their choices as you and Norm settled in to people-watch. 

"Happy Election Day!" Chet proclaimed as he approached, his voice ringing with cheery and patriotic fervor. "Best day in the Vault, right?"

Norm piped up first, “I can think of a few better days.” 

“Well, obviously, it doesn’t compare to Christmas, but it’s a close second. Nothing more important than exercising our civic duties.”  

You smiled at Chet's enthusiasm but couldn’t help but share a different perspective. “It would be a little more interesting if we didn’t already know the outcome.” Convinced Betty Pearson would be elected Overseer once again. “You know, Chet, dissenting is actually the highest form of patriotism.” Wouldn’t that be a surreal sight? 

Chet’s face twisted in confusion. “Dissenting? What do you mean?”

Norm decided to chime in. “She means not voting.” He turned to you with a knowing look. “You know that would never happen.” He imagined if anyone in the Vault decided not to vote, they’d just round them up and encourage them to cast a ballot. 

Chet’s eyes widened, and he looked genuinely appalled. “Not voting? How can you say that? It’s our duty to vote, to make our voices heard!”

“See?” Norm remarked, a slight smirk on his face. “Absolutely no one would go for that.”

You shrugged, “A girl can dream.” Rising from the picnic table, you realized the time. “Alright, I better be off. Enjoy your day off, boys,” you said, kissing Norm goodbye and waving to Chet before walking off.

After you left, Chet turned to Norm with a curious expression. “So, things have evolved pretty quickly between you two, huh? Fill me in.”

Norm smiled, “Yeah, we’re officially an ‘item,’” confirming Chet’s suspicions. 

Chet grinned, clearly happy for his friend. “I’m not surprised. I had a feeling you had a thing for her long before you admitted it.”

Norm chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess it was pretty obvious, except to us.”

The conversation paused slightly, and Chet had something on his mind. He hesitated momentarily before finally asking, “So, have you two, you know?”

Norm raised an eyebrow, catching the implication. “Yeah, we have.” He decided against his better judgment to just entertain his cousin’s inquires. 

Chet nodded, his curiosity piqued. “How was it?”

“Definitely not sharing that,” Norm replied, shaking his head.

“That bad, huh?” Chet frowned, placing a consolatory hand on Norm’s shoulder. “Don’t worry; it gets better with practice.”

Norm laughed. “It wasn’t bad, far from it actually, but I’m not telling you the details of how I spent the night with my girlfriend.”

“Oh, c’mon, that’s what us guys do,” Chet said, playfully punching Norm’s shoulder. He then proceeded to fill Norm in on what happened with Stephanie before the two of them showed up at his doorstep for their expedition to Vault 32.

“See, too much information,” Norm gagged, referring to Chet's detailed account of the situation with Stephanie.

Chet laughed, suddenly remembering, “Oh, I’m supposed to meet Steph!”

Norm nodded. “That’s fine. I need to check in on something anyway.”

The two friends parted ways, and Norm used the bustle of election day as a cover to sneak back into his office terminal. Your earlier comment about the predictability of elections gave him something he wanted to check. The Vault 32 logs might have been off-limits, but he still had access to the ones in 33. Sitting down, Norm accessed the vault terminal and began searching the personnel records for those who had been transferred between vaults. He clicked on the names and started to notice a pattern.

Transferred from Vault 31, elected Overseer in Vault 33.

He saw it repeatedly. Each name he clicked. 

Transferred from Vault 31, elected Overseer in Vault 33.

Over and over, the same pattern emerged until he reached the present day. Hank MacLean. Transferred from Vault 31 and elected Overseer 2271-2297.

Norm leaned back, his heart racing as the realization sank in. If Betty Pearson won again, every elected Overseer would come from Vault 31; it would continue the unbroken chain of Vault 31 transfers, becoming Overseers in Vault 33. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. It was a running joke in Vault, voting for the member from 31, but for it to happen every election over 200 years of Vault 33 history seemed an impossibility. 

Norm’s mind raced with questions. Why was Vault 31 so influential in Vault 33’s leadership? What was the connection? And most importantly, what did this mean for the future of their vault? Determined to find answers, Norm knew he had to dig deeper. As he logged out of the terminal and prepared to leave, he knew one thing for certain: this election day was just the beginning.

_____________________________

Norm couldn’t wait until you got off work to share what he uncovered, so he headed straight to Steph’s place to share his unsettling discovery with his additional accomplice. When he arrived, he found Chet busy entertaining Steph’s newborn with a rattle, trying to keep the baby occupied while the single mom finished her shower. 

“You don’t think it’s weird we always elect an overseer from Vault 31?” Chet looked up, slightly distracted by the baby. “What do you mean?” “They did the same exact thing in Vault 32,” Norm explained.

 Steph’s singing drifted through the background, a gentle reminder of her presence amidst their conversation. Chet pondered Norm’s question. “Honestly, no. By all accounts, Vault 31 has more resources and a better education system, and you know they’ve got that phrase.” Norm knew it well and finished the sentence in a mocking tone. “When things look glum, vote 31.” 

“Shh,” Chet whispered, looking around like someone might overhear them. “It’s a powerful slogan.” 

Norm looked at him in disbelief. “You think 200 years of coincidence comes down to a slogan?” Chet shrugged. “I don’t know, Norm. It’s like asking why everyone prefers jello-cake to apple pie. I don’t know why; they just do.” 

“So if it’s not at all worrisome, why are we whispering?” Norm challenged. Chet sighed, “Because we just snuck into a vault filled with dead bodies. Not to mention Steph’s from 31.” 

As if on cue, Steph appeared, freshly showered and wrapped in her Vault bathrobe. She looked surprised to see Norm. “Oh, hello, Norman.”

 “Steph,” Norm nodded, “I was actually just heading out. We’ll pick this up later,” he said to Chet. “Sure,” Chet responded, giving Norm a nod. 

Norm stopped as he was about to press the door release and turned back to Steph. “Steph?”

 “Yes?”

 “How’s Vault 31 different from here?” She paused, thinking. “What did your dad tell you?” 

“Not much, actually. That’s why I’m asking.” 

She considered it again. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the mashed potatoes were a little better?”

 Norm sighed. “That is  what my dad used to say.”

 “Must be true then,” she said with a haunting smile. 

“It must be true,” Norm echoed, feeling the weight of her words as he left. 

As Norm walked back to his quarters, an announcement blared over the Vault system intercom. The microphone crackled, and Betty’s voice echoed through the loudspeakers. “Hello, Vault 33. In my first edict as Overseer, I will be hosting a Vault-wide meeting about the future of Vault 32 tomorrow at 10 am. See you there.” 

_______________

Norm’s thoughts raced as he continued his walk. He didn't get a chance to speak with you about his discovery; you had been stationed for an additional shift to perform maintenance on the Pip-Boy servers last night. Extra shifts were unusual for you, and Norm had a nagging suspicion that someone was keeping you there on purpose.

 He managed to catch up with you as you walked to the meeting Betty had called. You mouthed, “What do you think this is about?” as Norm approached. He shrugged, just as uncertain. “No idea.” 

Once everyone had gathered, Betty led the group toward Vault 32. They stopped in front of the newly cleared-out entryway. Betty began, “Thank you for coming, everyone. It is important for us all to see this place together—as a community, as a family—so that we can heal together and rebuild together.” 

Chet, standing close to Norm and you, leaned in nervously. “What is happening here?” he whispered to Norm. He wasn’t particularly keen on returning to the Vault filled with so much death and decay. Betty didn’t hear him and continued. “I spoke with the Overseer of Vault 31, and we agreed that these vaults of ours are too sacred to leave empty. Which is why I’m announcing a resettling campaign. Some of us will stay home to rebuild 33. Others will move into Vault 32 in the coming weeks to start anew.” 

With her remarks finished, she guided the group into Vault 32. The sight that greeted them was a complete 180 from what you, Norm, and Chet had seen a couple of days earlier. There were no decaying bodies, no blood on the walls, and all signs of neglect had been meticulously cleaned up. The atrium, which had been filled with the stench of death, now looked pristine, almost welcoming. Fresh coats of paint now adorned the walls, and if you didn’t know any better, you might be standing back in Vault 33. You couldn't believe the sight before you. It made you question what you had seen the other day. Was it real? Had your mind played tricks on you? 

You glanced at Norm, whose face mirrored your disbelief. Norm leaned in, whispering to you, “This doesn’t make sense. It’s like they scrubbed away everything overnight.” Chet looked around, still unnerved. “I don’t know, Norm.” The three of you tried your best to remain inconspicuous, but the more you walked around, the more difficult it became. 

As the members of 33 poured out to the hallways to examine the Vault, Betty continued her speech, oblivious to the trio’s whispered concerns. “Together, we will turn Vault 32 into a new beacon of hope, just as Vault 33 has been for us. This is our chance to build something better.” The crowd murmured in agreement, excited to begin the work, but you and Norm exchanged uneasy glances. Something was definitely not right. The eerie cleanliness of Vault 32 felt like a cover-up, a facade hiding the grim reality you had witnessed.

Norm separated from you and Chet, heading up to the Overseer’s office; as he arrived in the hallway, he noticed the stark difference from the scene they had encountered previously. There were no bodies hanging from the ceiling, and the office itself looked identical to his dad's, save for a Vault 32 flag hanging in place of the Vault 33 one. But there was one other major change that caught his eye: the overseer’s terminal, where he had found the information about his mom’s Pip-Boy, was now broken into pieces on the desk. This was a sign someone knew they had been there the other night; he was sure of it.

Norm leaned over, his hands propped up on the desk, eyes scanning the office, taking in the changes. He was startled when he felt hands on his shoulders and turned to see Betty standing behind him.

“Find anything interesting?” she asked, her voice calm but with an edge that made Norm's stomach knot.

Norm swallowed hard, trying to hide his unease. “Great job cleaning up,” he said, attempting to keep his tone casual.

Betty looked saddened, shaking her head. “The raiders destroyed so much. But not our spirits,” she finished triumphantly.

As she turned to leave, Norm called out, “Betty?”

She paused, turning back to face him. “Yes?”

“When my mother died, what happened to her Pip-Boy?”

Betty's expression softened. “It was buried with her.”

“How are you so sure?” Norm pressed, his voice barely steady.

She stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Because I buried her myself. Me and your father.” She gave him a gentle squeeze before turning to leave the room.

Just as Betty left, you caught up with Norm, noticing his distant expression. “Are you okay?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

Norm turned to you, forcing a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” But the doubt in his eyes betrayed his words.

_____________________________

You and Norm returned to his place, the tension between you palpable. Norm was eager to disclose the information he had found out, but as he watched you pace the floor of his living room, he began to second-guess his decision. You were visibly distressed about the possibility of being relocated to Vault 32, and Norm, for once, was trying to be the optimistic one. Maybe you didn’t need the added weight of Vault 31's secrets and Betty's seemingly thinly veiled threats right now.

You ran a hand through your hair, frustration evident on your face. “I can’t believe they expect us to just move to Vault 32 like it’s no big deal. After everything we saw in there…” You stopped pacing and looked at him, your eyes filled with uncertainty and fear. “What if they separate us?”

Norm bit his lip, struggling with his decision. He wanted to share everything with you, but he feared adding to your worries. “They can’t separate us. I won’t let that happen.”

You sighed and sank onto the couch, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "I can’t stand the thought of us being apart.”

Norm sat down beside you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Norm hesitated for a moment before deciding to hold off on the full truth for now. “It will be fine, I promise.”

[a-lilypad]

@jegulus-microfic | april 5: slap | 1.3k words

a little theater rivals to lovers au where reg and james are double casted to the same role and james rips the only costume they have the day of regulus' opening night (cw: slight violence)

big big smooch to @ecstarry for the idea ily <3

A loud ripping sound echoed through the auditorium, causing everyone to immediately stop what they were doing, despite being in the middle of a scene. Even in the shadowed wings, Regulus’ expression was very visible and did not bode well for the rest of the cast. 

Or more specifically, for James Potter. 

Regulus’ jaw had dropped slightly, leaving his mouth agape, and a look of complete disbelief in his eyes. Shaking his head slightly, he seemed to come back to himself, shock morphing into an intense red-hot rage. It ran through his veins, replacing his blood, burning through everything in its path and was radiating from him in waves. 

Creating pure destruction and leaving only anger clouding Regulus’ mind, shown by the hardening of his eyes and clenching of his fists. 

He felt his nails dig into the soft flesh of his palm, nearly piercing the skin but instead forming harsh pink dents. Though they’d be nearly impossible to see through the already purpling bruises there.

Maybe Sirius was right and he needed to find better coping mechanisms… he could unpack that at a different time.  

At that moment he had more important things to deal with, such as James Potter, his theatre rival of three years, ripping the only costume they had the morning of their performance opening. 

“I can not fucking believe you, Potter!”

He started towards the horror-struck boy, stomping across the stage, and swung his arm with as much force as he could garner. The sound of the slap masked horrified gaps from the cast members on stage, but couldn’t hide the way Potter’s head flew to the side. 

Huh. Maybe Regulus was stronger than he thought. 

As Potter stared at him with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify, (because, while he knew Potter wasn’t the sanest of people, there was no way he was crazy enough to be looking at the person who’d just slapped him hard enough to knock him back a few steps with awe) Regulus shook out his hand with a wince. That had fucking hurt. 

“REGULUS!” his Drama teacher, Mr Slughorn, shouted. He had an annoying nasally voice that went right through him, he genuinely hated the man but he usually loved acting enough to let it slide. This was not one of those moments. 

“Wha-why-you” he rambled, hands frantically waving around “Why on Earth would you slap Mr Potter?” 

“He just ripped my fucking costume! We don’t have another, what was I meant to do? I can’t go on stage naked,” Regulus complained. 

He knew it was a bad idea the minute Slughorn had suggested Potter run through a final dress rehearsal. He was B cast! It was A cast’s night which meant it was Regulus’ night. 

Potter was looking at him strangely, his brows were furrowed slightly, almost as if he too was confused. He was staring at him with both reverence and irritation. Then in a split second, the irritation took over and he came out of his stupor. 

“You could have maybe, I don’t know, not fucking hit me?” he snapped, “it’s not like I did it on purpose!” 

Regulus scoffed, “You definitely did!” and stepped even closer to Potter, pointing his finger at him and pushing it into his chest, “You’ve been praying for my downfall since the second you saw me beat you, just admit it, I am better.” 

“ENOUGH!” bellowed Slughorn, Regulus had completely forgotten he was there, in fact, he’d forgotten anyone else was in the room with them. That was weird. “Both of you are to go to the supply closet and find something else for Mr Black to wear tonight, we’ll have something somewhere.” 

Huffing and sending Potter a death glare, Regulus swiftly turned around and stormed off stage, hearing Potter’s footsteps behind him as confirmation he was being followed. 

Great. This was exactly what he needed. Alone time with James Fucking Potter. He hated him. He had since the first time Regulus auditioned for a school musical in year 8. 

He remembered being so scared, he was shaking and praying he wouldn’t vomit up his organs, then Potter flounced in, all big hair and a cocky smile. He barely even spared Regulus a look before announcing to the other people in the room that Regulus would never get the part and he’d be stuck playing a tree in the background. 

He was right of course, Regulus had been so nervous he’d fucked his audition completely and had ended up not even having a single line. 

Potter got the lead. 

He vowed that day to never let Potter beat him to a role again, and so far he hadn’t, managing to get the male lead in every performance since. 

Ranting under his breath, Regulus continued listening to Potter’s footsteps, praying that he’d trip over something and fall flat on his face. Sadly, that did not happen and they both arrived at the storage closet unharmed.

Well, except for Potter’s face, a bright red mark was blossoming across his cheek. In his room, Regulus had a shelf of little trophies and awards he’d earned, but this was the most valuable. He wanted to take a picture of it and display it like a tapestry. He’d wanted to knock the crooked smile of his face for years now.

“What the fuck are you smiling about, this is your fault” Potter snapped, reaching forward to push the door open, having to bang it a bit, it had been given to the drama department after the lock had broken leaving it so that you can only open it from the outside.

“My fault?!” Regulus seethed, anger rearing up again as he followed Potter into the closet, “I’m sorry, did I rip the costume? Because, now forgive me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that was you!”

“I’ve said already it was an accident, god you’re insane”

“I’m insane? Are you fucking joking? I’ll show you insane” Regulus snapped stepping into Potter’s space.

The door slammed behind them and a loud click told them it had locked. 

Well fuck.

Potter stared at him for a second before bursting into laughter. Curling over, wiping away tears, booming laughter, while Regulus wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and disappear. 

“What by locking us in a confined space together? Great plan Reggie” he choked out, still cackling.

Regulus ran a hand through his hair, messing up the precise curls. “Don’t call me that!” then turned to start pulling at the door, desperate to set them free, but no matter how hard he pulled at the handle it wouldn’t budge.

“Stop laughing at me” Regulus mumbled, hitting his head against the door and groaning, the situation was embarrassing enough without Potter taking the piss.

The laughing trailed off suddenly and Regulus cocked an eyebrow suspiciously, not expecting to actually be listened to. Potter was gawking at him, eyes sparkling, his jaw dropped slightly. 

Narrowing his eyes, Regulus met his gaze, “What?” he sneered.

Potter slowly moved towards him and tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear, his face fell from anger to confusion and Regulus was holding his breath. He wasn’t sure why. It felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Their eyes locked and the world around them disappeared.

Then they were kissing, lips meeting bruisingly, and Regulus didn’t know who had moved first. It was desperate and hungry, tongues exploring each other's mouths and breathy gasps being shared between them. Potter’s hands threaded through his hair and pulled, causing his lips to part around a guttural moan.

He grabbed Potter by the shoulders and shoved him slightly, leaving about an inch between their faces, “This means nothing, I still fucking hate you” he mumbled into Potter’s mouth then he grabbed his face and pulled him in again and proceeded to practically eat him alive.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

THINGS THAT HAPPEN IN EVERY EPISODE OF TEEN WOLF EVER

part ii (part i HERE)

coach finstock philosophy being the thing that actually fixes you

a soundtrack that consists of the sort of music that makes you wish you were no longer alive, plus (ironically) the excellent song lose your soul by dead man's bones 

jeff davis forgetting character's ages and back stories and sometimes the characters themselves (fuck you forever for kira, jeff, you massive poopy head)

jeff davis forgetting the plot

jeff davis forgetting the fact that nobody likes him

tuning in for sterek and staying for sterek even when jeff davis stops giving the sterek scenes together, and staying for sterek even after one half of sterek leaves, in the hope that the half of sterek who left will one day return so you can keep on watching for sterek even though sterek is not even canon and you know inherently it never will be  

brilliantly appalling special FX

meredith having even crazier eyes than the character from the show orange is the new black who has crazy eyes and is actually named crazy eyes 

tyler hoechlin hands down having the best spine-tingling-hairs-standing-up-on-the-back-of-your-neck werewolf roar of any werewolf on any film or tv show about werewolves ever FIGHT ME

queer allegory my beloved <3

isaac inexplicably wearing a scarf all-year-round

all the characters bar derek (only bc it's hard to get it wrong with a henley and black jeans which is all he ever wears apart from the one-time crimson thumbhole shirt that was inspired drip) having honestly the worst fucking dress sense

jackson being the angriest most brilliantly hammy antagonist ever with the best facial expressions known to humankind who ends up evolving into the most adorable gayest gay to ever gay living his best life in londonia with his lovely boyfriend ethan where they are now both runway models for jean paul gaultier (who everybody knows is a french werewolf from way back when in the la bête du gévaudan era)

getting the feeling you should be doing absolutely anything else with your time instead of watching these idiots yet being completely addicted to loving this penny and dime clown show more than you love your own nearest and dearest 

VOID STILES BEING A 1000 YEAR OLD FOX DEMON THAT MAKES YOU HARD

having the constant need to shake scott vigorously because he is the funko pop! bobble head we all know and are forced to tolerate 

chris argent being such a cringe over-the-top-gun-toting-who's-your-daddy-badass that he somehow actually manages to circle back around to being rad af  

chris argent being so real and a dilf

none of the characters ever talking about the fact that scott's dad was an abusive arsehole apart from stiles because stiles is a champion amongst men who makes sure to tell scott's dad between scenes that his head looks like a cross between a crescent moon and a foot

every single character on the show knowing that there is not a hint of a shadow of a doubt that derek and stiles are doin the narsty—even the off-camera characters we never get to meet are always congregating on the reg in the grocery store or the coffee shop or the WSWA (We See Werewolves Anonymous) bi-weekly meetings and are all like "you know that furious-looking autistic dude with the spectacular monobrow whose eyes are sometimes definitely way too blue? and the noodly peewee herman MIT ADHD kid with the duct tape jeep whose dad is the sheriff of this fictional town none of us live in? they are definitely fucking omg." 

each and every school lesson we see scott and stiles attending actually being a top secret pentagram level mission impossible code for whatever supernatural shit is about to go down in beacon hills that day 

outing you as the monsterfucker you really are LMFAO

(find part i HERE)