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chuellas · 1 day ago

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Initiation | I is for Intimacy

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

V. A. L. E. N. T. I. N. E.

Warnings | Fem!Reader, N.SFW, 18+ only, use of the names “Doll” and “Baby”, physical and emotional intimacy, oral (Reader rec), fingering, unprotected sex, WC: 2.2k

A/N | This one is a lot tamer than the rest and once again I got wayyyyy too carried away but can you blame me? My baby deserves the world 😔

His hands tremble slightly as you both reach your apartment building’s entrance. The two of you have been dating for about 3 months now and Chuuya has held off on being physically intimate with you up until now. But he could tell your patience has been waning and tonight was your tipping point. You’ve been hinting to him all night that you want him to follow you up to your apartment. The extra touches that linger just a little longer than usual, the longing gaze at any part of him you find attractive, which apparently is every inch of him.

You fiddle with your fingers and keys, watching them before steeling yourself and inviting him. “Y’know, it’s still pretty early…Why don’t you come up? We could have a cup of tea or a glass of wine and watch a movie?”

Your eyes are filled with so much hope, how is Chuuya supposed to say no to that?

He doesn’t of course, as a matter of fact he’s quick to accept your offer and follows you anxiously to your apartment. The Port Mafia executive couldn’t figure out why he was so nervous. He’s slept with plenty of people before this. He’d even goes as far as to say he’s skilled in this subject, never having left a partner dissatisfied.

So why are you different?

Realistically Chuuya knows why but he doesn’t want to admit it to himself because if he does that then it means all of this is actually real. It would mean he cares for you far beyond anyone he’s cared for previously. So he’s avoided the subject with you altogether, letting himself stew in denial.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also incredibly excited. It’s depraved, the amount of times Chuuya has fucked his hand to the thought of you, playing the little voice memos you like to send him every once in a while when you’re at work and typing takes too long. He always comes at the sound of your fluttery giggle, the sound casting a spell over his body every time without fail.

He wonders briefly, what the real thing will do to him when he’s nestled inside of you.

The ginger can feel himself getting worked up just at the thought of it. He needs to calm himself down. The two of you just got to your apartment. You let him into your home and he’s immediately greeted by a small cat that can’t be more than 6 months old. He’s never been too keen on cat’s but the little ball of fur takes to him immediately and you let out an incredulous laugh.

“She usually hides when I have company, you must be really good with animals.” You crouch down and hold your finger out for the kitten to sniff, just as expected she does so and rubs herself against your hand, clearly recognizing you as her owner. “This is Rika. She may not look it, but this little girl is feisty. She started out as a foster but I fell in love with her and couldn’t fathom the thought of life without her anymore. Sorry, I should have asked if you were allergic before bringing you up…”

Chuuya smiles fondly at you and the small creature, crouching down and mimicking your actions to gain the kitten's trust. “Nah, don’t worry, Doll. I’m not allergic, just- Never been the biggest fan of these guys. She’s cute though, just like her owner.”

You let out a groan and fall onto your butt, knees still bent, to make yourself comfortable on the floor. Rika starts at the movement but once she realizes that it was just you, she continues to headbutt Chuuya and even starts to purr. His attention is still on you despite the little furballs attempts to get him to pet her.

“That was so cheesy.” You’re covering your face with your hands and peek through them to look at Rika, then back up at the ginger. “...but, I suppose, she’s quite fond of you…just like her owner.”

Chuuya lets out a chuckle of his own because, yeah, that definitely sounded awfully cheesy now that he heard you say it. Yet, it still calmed his previous nerves. The Port Mafia executive stands up and offers his hands for help. You take them with an appreciative smile and he hoists you up. He’s aware that he used far too much force than he needed to but it’s entirely on purpose. You stumble into him and he’s ready to steady you, grip firmly set on your hips to hold you against him.

His lids droop down to look at you through his lashes and the air in your apartment thickens. Your lips part, Chuuya thinks you were going to say something, but he doesn’t give you time as he dips his head down and steals a kiss from you. Then another.

And another.

He continues to kiss you until you both find yourselves stumbling almost blindly into your room. You toe the door shut and start ridding Chuuya of his clothes with trembling hands. You’re nervous too, somehow that makes the ginger just a little more confident and he aids you in taking off his jacket and lifting his shirt over his head. He watches your reaction closely, the way your chest quickens with your breath, the way your pupils dilate in excitement, and most of all the way your face flushes in the prettiest way.

Chuuya is in trouble. Normally his interactions like this are only filled with desire and pleasure. Something only transactional or to itch a certain scratch. That’s it. But this is clearly different.

The ability user wants to take his time with you, wants you to feel good. He wants to touch and kiss every surface of your skin. Chuuya wants to mold your insides to only take him, to remember the shape of only his cock.

You're the most dangerous person Chuuya has ever encountered and you don’t even know it.

Chuuya makes good on his desires, slowly and carefully peeling your clothes away, making sure to kiss every bit of new skin being exposed. You aren’t as patient but you have no control over what he does right now. The ginger had a plan and you weren’t going to deter him from it.

When the executive gets you down to your underwear, he makes work of your bra first, expertly unclasping your bra with the snap of his fingers. You let out a pained whine, clearly enjoying just how easy it was for him to take off the usually tricky garment. He wastes no time in cupping your breasts in his now ungloved hands and kneading gently at the plush skin. His fingers run over your nipple and you let out a broken gasp.

A grin stretches at his lips, he can’t help it, pleased with the reactions he’s drawing out of you when he hasn’t even come close to touching you how he’d like to.

The ginger drags his hands down your abdomen at an agonizingly slow pace and you squirm impatiently in his hold. “Chuuya…Please, just- oh my god- just fuck me already.”

Your breath catches in your throat when Chuuya flips you around and has your back crashing into his chest and he dips his head to leave a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Gotta be patient f’me, Doll. I gotta make sure you’re ready to take me. Can’t have you uncomfortable, now, can we?” Your head falls onto his shoulder as you let out another whine.

You’re walked to the edge of your bed before you’re being flipped back around and pushed onto it, your legs hanging off the end. Chuuya kneels and pushes your legs together so he can guide them to one side of his head to slip your underwear off with ease. The ginger pries your legs apart once more and settles your legs on each of his shoulders.

When you’re finally fully exposed, slick cunt practically drooling for Chuuya, he lets out a groan. He has a physical reaction to the sight of you, his cock jumping in his very tight pants. If you would let him, he thinks he would be content with drowning in your pretty glistening cunt.

You reach for the ginger’s hair and let out another whine. “Chuuya…”

“Fuck, Baby. You been hiding this pretty little thing from me this entire time? A damn shame I’ve let this go to waste till now.” He doesn’t let you respond, diving right in and helping himself to your taste.

With expert precision Chuuya finds your clit with one swipe of his tongue up your folds. He’s quick to attach himself to the sensitive bud and starts sucking on you and then releasing, creating a delicious rhythm with his mouth. You grip at his hair with trembling fingers. It’s cute, really, how worked up you’re getting. The executive has a sneaking feeling you’ve never had someone who actually knows what they’re doing eat you out like this before.

As if you could read his mind you gasp out, “How- shit- how are you s-so good at that? It feels s’good…”

The ginger knows better than to deem that with an actual response, so instead he brings a hand up to your entrance and coats his middle finger in your slick before inserting it and immediately pumping it in and out of you. It happens fast. You pant out his name and twist your body as you try to almost crawl away from the pleasure building up in your stomach. Chuuya doesn’t let you, of course. He makes sure to bring you flying off the edge. You cum without warning and the sounds of Chuuya drinking you up bounces off the walls.

You twitch from the oversensitivity and subconsciously push at Chuuya's head. He gets the hint and pulls away. His face is a mess, lips, cheeks and chin glistening with your juices. What's worse is he licks it all off like a parched man, not satiated until he’s licked all of it off.

Chuuya finally pulls down his pants and climbs over you, dragging you up all the way onto the bed. He takes another moment to admire your lucid state. Body sheen with a small layer of sweat, hair splayed around you in a halo, chest flushed and heaving from your pants. You’re more beautiful than he could ever have tried to imagine. Whatever Chuuya had previously pictured, was put to shame tenfold with you here finally bare right in front of him.

He gingerly strokes some hair stuck to your face out of the way and lets his finger linger, traveling down the outline of your face. “Think you have one more in you, Doll?”

Chuuya doesn’t think he’s ever had to ask that question before. His usual partners are always selfish, having no problem asking for what they want. You on the other hand? You were far too soft, too kind to ever ask for more when this is your first time getting into bed with him.

Your eyes close momentarily and he watches your intently. Your eyelashes flutter as you lean into his hand that’s now cupping your face tenderly. When you open your eyes to look up at him through your lashes Chuuya swear he almost cums right then and there. How the hell is he supposed to survive the night with you when you look so stunning underneath him like this?

“Yeah. I want you, Chuuya.” You’re killing him—you really will be the death of him he swears, no dramatics, it’s simply factual.

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Okay, you got me, all of me.”

Chuuya leans closer into you and rests his forehead on yours before guiding his tip to your entrance. He swipes himself through your folds a few times, making sure he’s wet enough to slip into you easily before finally sinking into you. Your eyes screw shut and your arms fly to his back, desperately looking for something to slutch onto as he stretches you so deliciously. Your mouth drops open but no noise falls out.

Instead of letting himself get overwhelmed by how velvety and warm and inviting your walls are, Chuuya distracts himself by crashing his lips to your. You finally let out small whines and whimpers and while he’s running his tongue across your lips, asking for another entrance, you impatiently roll your hips. He lets out a surprised grunt but gets the hint and starts a slow but pointed pace.

Chuuya is used to having sex, he’s slept with countless people thanks to the nature of his job. It’s been seen as a skill for so long that he forgot that it could feel like this. This was something more than just a physical connection, it’s also emotional.

Chuuya thought he knew everything there was to know about sex, but he has a lot to learn about intimacy, and he doesn’t think he’d want to learn it from anyone else other than you.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #chuuya x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #bungo stray dogs x fem!reader #bsd chuuya #writings ʚїɞ

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burning-omen · 2 days ago

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With Everything I Say and Do (part 1)

Jason Todd x Male!reader

(A/n: Unrelated to the fic but I love Jason's fuck ass hair from utrh. Also, this isn't meant to be one specific version of Jason, I pulled from several different canons and also made shit up while writing this. Also, also, peep the title, Brokeback Mountain reference, I know I'm so cool)

Ao3 ver.

Summary: Jason isn't stalking you, stalking would imply something more sinister than what he was doing- he was just...watching you in a completely non obsessive, platonic manner.

W.C: 6,486

Warnings: THIS IS A FLUFF FIC I SWEAR, PTSD, childhood trauma, mommy AND daddy issues (both reader and jason), child abuse, mentions of Jason and Bruce fighting, depressive episodes, anger issues, murders, child death, bombings, canon typical Gotham violence, stalking (affectionate), breaking and entering, Y/n's friends being cringe but I love them so shut up about it, Barbara and Jason being friends, homelessness and being kicked out (reader, pre-fic) mentions of Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, and Bruce Wayne (not really a warning just wanted to mention it), also, I didn't send this to my proof reader beforehand so if you see a fuck up feel free to mention it.

God, you forgot how ridiculous you were in middle school. Reading through your old journal- which had been shoved in a box once it was full, then shoved in another box when you moved out of your parents house-it really just showed that your avoidant tendencies had been festering for far longer than you’d care to admit. Seriously, were you actually that concerned about- you re-read the chicken scratch that was your writing back then, squinting slightly- the fucking moon landing of all things? No, you weren’t, but it had been April 28th and the day before had been a lot. So now you have a passage about the moon landing.

It had been closer to the bottom of the box, covered by old memorabilia from your early teen years. With a trash bag to one side of you and a pile of things you were keeping on the other.

It’s about time you went through it- the box has been sitting under your bed long enough, and really, when were you ever going to need an old hoodie from Gotham City Middle School? Never, so it went in the trash pile. You, of course, got distracted by your diary and have been reading through the pages for the past half hour- you really don’t remember being this edgy- good fucking lord. You flipped through the last couple of pages until you landed on what was supposed to be the blank, white card stock at the back of the book- only to see the word “LOSER” written in big, red letters. You blinked, now who the hell did that? Defacing your perfectly good diary. Under the graffiti, in smaller letters, was “-Jason”

You closed the book. Of course. Who else?

Really. He’s the only other person you’d let have the book long enough for this kind of vandalism to make sense. He’s the only person who your adolescence self wouldn’t have thrown a fit at for touching your property- or making fun of you, even in a joking fashion. You smiled down at the book for a second before tossing it in the keep pile.

You pulled the next item out of your little memory box. It was your senior portrait- sorta. It was just a picture of you in your cap and gown- you’d skipped school the day the actual senior portraits were taken- not intentionally, you just skipped school a lot then, and happened to hop the gate that day- and every other day that week. You were smiling in the picture, but your eyes were far too dark and far too tired, you weren’t standing straight, slouching and leaning slightly- but it was good enough for your mom, so it hung in the living room of your parents house for the next 3 years. She’d tried to put makeup under your eyes, fussing with your hair and your gown until she decided to take the photo as you were. Some days you wonder where that patience had gone- that forgiveness and kindness that she showed to you that day. You sighed, you could reminisce and lament about your parents later, for now you needed to go through the rest of this shit.

You flipped the frame over, bending the little metal pieces back, and taking the picture out. Folding it down the middle and sitting it on your night stand- you’d find a place for it later- the frame went with the rest of the trash.

The box was almost empty- small knick knacks at the bottom, some more clothes, an umbrella- you picked it up, checking for holes in the canopy. It was old, but it was better than any other cheap umbrella you’ve ever had. Resisting the pestering urge to run your fingers over the bronze “J.T” inset in the handle, you set it in the keep pile. The rest of the box was pretty much trash- buttons and pins, crumbled class notes, more school spirit wear, and Gotham High School's Library’s one and only copy of Pride and Prejudice. Oops- you hadn’t meant to take that. Letting out a quiet sigh into your empty room, you thought, ‘oh well’ you doubted they wanted it back after the years it's been rotting- and you really didn’t want it either, it was dirty and had something inappropriate written on nearly every page. An unsalvageable childhood artifact- now bagged up with everything else you deemed trash.

The sun had set hours ago, and it was a weekend- Gotham’s crime scene was always overly active on weekends, and you’d rather not get mugged on your way to the trash shoot-

‘Not like I’ve got anything to give..’

–Still, you sat the bag by your front door. Walking through your dark apartment, the only light coming from the desk lamp in your bedroom, the loud, creaking floor covering the sound of your footsteps. You weren’t afraid of the dark- but you did live in Gotham- so you were more reasonably cautious of the dark than anything. You should be- you’ve had the literal Batman in your apartment before. Why that freak was in your bedroom, you may never know, but he left as soon as you woke up so you decided- after changing the lock on your door and buying a gun and deadbolts for every window and door in your house, that you weren’t going to worry about it.

Even if you’re 90% sure he bugged your place- you’d just have to deal with it. He is Batman- invasive and mysterious is kinda what he does according to the Gotham Gazette.

Back in your room, you shoved everything from the “keep” pile back in the box to be dealt with…eventually. You’ll get to it by the end of the week- probably- no, nope, no more procrastination, you’ll put it away in the morning- after breakfast and a shower.

Kicking your slippers off, stepping onto the freezing, wood floor for just a second before crawling into bed- your heater was broken and the city was just as cold as it always was, so you wrapped yourself in every cover and blanket you had in a nearly successful attempt at comfort. A bit of cold air would seep in every couple of minutes, but you could handle it, at least for the next few days until the building manager is able to get it fixed (turns out it's not just your heater, no it’s everybody's heater. So your entire apartment building is freezing, but you’re freezing together- how touching). You rolled onto your side, sticking an arm out of the burrow of blankets you’d created and turning off the lamp on your night stand, pulling your arm back in as fast as you could to keep any more heat from escaping before settling in for the night.

—

‘Damn, It’s cold out,’ Jason thought for the millionth time tonight, crouching down on the dingy, rusted roof of yet another warehouse- fifth one tonight- watching from the skylight as nothing happened. His helmets night vision didn’t show the slightest hint of movement, not even a fucking rat scampering across the ground. Just like there had been nothing in the last 4 warehouses. At least this one is somewhat familiar- his gaze wandered over to warehouse A-9 for about the hundredth time since they arrived. He knew the night crew was in, only a handful of people occupied a handful of buildings, mostly in the A buildings, where all the important shit was kept- Red Hood and Nightwing, however, were stationed on top of the B-16 building, as instructed.

Rising from a crouch, catching the attention of Nightwing, his knees popped.

“Feeling restless?” He asked.

At first Jason just grunted- obviously- he’s been sitting in one spot for 40 minutes and the hunch that Batman had them working off of seemed to be a dud, but he can’t just leave. He could, Bruce doesn’t control him- but after a few too many dramatic family feuds and attempted (and successful) murders Jason is just really, really fucking tired of constantly arguing and fighting.

He’s “back to being the favorite” Dick had joked a couple times- after he decided that maybe there was some merit to a no-kill-rule, and maybe Tim wasn’t so horrible, the kid’s kinda funny actually, smart as shit too. And Bruce..things were..fine. For the most part. It wasn’t entirely Bruce’s fault- he still held a grudge- the clown lived entirely too long after, but Jason already knew that Bruce had no interest in playing executioner- judge and jury was fine- but he wasn’t going to kill. Jason could understand that, especially after going off the murderous deep end himself- once you start it feels like you can’t stop, like there’s no point in stopping. So sure, he gets why Bruce didn’t- doesn’t make it hurt less though.

“Any word from B?” He mumbled, his voice made robotic and stiff by the modulator in his mask.

Nightwing silently fell back, sitting with his legs crossed, his attention now fully on Jason, “Nothing yet.” he sighed, stretching his arm, a amused grin on his face, “Not trying to jinx it, but I think we finally got a calm night in Gotham, who would of thought-?”

Right on queue, a deafening, blinding explosion went off- about two hundred feet away. Jason barely managed to not be fully knocked off his feet, couching down near his brother, one hand gripping his arm as the aftershock sent strong winds their way- mostly a comfort for Jason, but there was no time to think about that- because what the fuck just exploded and why?!

He glared at his brother through the helmet- and no, Dick couldn’t see it, but he still deserved it.

“See what you did? Now we have to deal with this shit.” Jason said, no real malice in his voice, mostly annoyance that his already long night was about to get even longer.

“Me?” Nightwing gasped.

“Yes, you- stop testing the universe, you know it doesn’t like us.”

The conversation ended there. Jason hopped off the roof, landing in an uncomfortable crouch- ‘My knees were going to be demolished in the morning...’ he thought before heading in the direction of the explosion- hearing Dick following behind him with his near silent landing.

Waking up to a hundred texts and calls was…new. Your friends, people you hadn’t talked to in ages, and most noticeably, your estranged parents. You blinked at the screen as more text rolled in. You decided you weren’t dealing with that. It’s entirely too early. Breaking free of your cover cocoon and rolling out of bed, phone discarded..somewhere in there.

You showered before anything, letting the shower run long enough for the entire bathroom to fill with a heavy fog before stepping in. Taking as much time as you physically could, until your skin was steaming and tinted red from the heat. Not even bothering with a towel as you walked straight back to your room, dressing warmly before flopping back down on your bed. You had a shift today. You used to take night shifts- sleeping through the day like a true night owl. But, in a desperate attempt to regain control over your life after what felt like a never ending downward spiral, you switched to the morning shift.

It was a win-win scenario, really. It paid just as much as the night shift, and you’d have the entire afternoon to yourself, and you would sleep at night, like normal, well adjusted people did.

You had planned on having a serene morning- getting to that box, having a nice well balanced breakfast, then heading to work, but your phone would not stop buzzing. Even under a mound of covers it was distracting as all hell.

“Ok..” You muttered as you dug it out, “What do you want?”

‘Y/n bby if you can see this I love you <3’

‘He’s in a better place now (hell)’

‘PLEASE stop joking like that its stressing me out’

Seems like your friends groupchat, aptly named “Gotham’s prison for whores”, was having quite the morning, hundreds of messages ranging from genuine expressions fear to half hearted jokes.

‘‘Tf are y’all going through???’’ you texted back

A collective group response came instantly.

‘‘He’s alive????’’

‘‘OH THANK FUCK YOUE NOT DEAD’’

“LETSGOOO”

‘‘*you’re’’ you responded without thinking, before fully processing what you’d just read, “why would I be dead??’’

‘‘Dude.’’

You waited for them to continue.

“GHL blew up last night, thought you worked the night shift????’’

Oh.

Ok, so you don’t have a shift today.

“WTF no I switched to the morning shift a couple weeks ago what happened”

“Idk man shit blew up, Nightwing and the red one were out there.”

‘The red one?’ you paused to think of who The Red One was, not even near processing that your job had blown up- wasn’t Robin, he knew that one- and his cape covered most red in his costume anyways. Red Robin, despite his name, his costume was more black than red, and your friend was more likely to call him CondomMan or something, because of his head piece thing.

“Bitch, do you mean Red Hood??”

“IM NOT FROM GOTHAM LEAVE ME ALONE”

Followed by-

“THERES TO MANY OF THEM I CAN NOT REMBER THEM ALL”

You laughed for a second, before remembering that your mother had also texted you and suddenly any joy you felt was sucked away- fuck, why wasn’t she blocked.

“Are you ok?” She asked

“I’m fine.”

Simple, blunt, and definitely not an invitation back into your life. You closed out of her contact and moved onto the mountain of text you still had. How did this many people have your number- how did this many people know where you work- worked, past tense.

After an hour of assuring dozens of practical strangers and distant relatives that you were perfectly fine and no you didn’t need anybody to check on you- you decided to get to the bottom of your sudden popularity. Seriously, none of these people reached out when you got kicked out, or worse, some outright denied you when you asked for help. They weren’t obligated to, but they can’t come around acting like their hearts were absolutely broken and bleeding at your supposed death.

With minimal digging, you figured it out. All you had to do was open any social media your mother had- it’s been, what? 4 hours since she first texted you, and she’s got two dozen posts about you up, with your number and your job posted for the world to see on each one, half of them posted over 5 hours ago, the others posted at random with the latest being only 12 minutes ago.

‘Fuck, this was so her, why the hell would she think this was ok?’

Another way to garner attention and sympathy and now she’s dragging you into it, like sure, you could have been dead, but her text didn’t exactly scream “I’m worried about you”.

You opened your messages with her again,

“Take the posts down, mom. Thanks.”

___

Why was the sun in his face?

Jason made sure the curtains were drawn so he wouldn’t have this problem. Cracking his eyes open he spots his brother- the traitorous bitch- standing by the window, opening the curtains just enough just to peek through. His personal cell phone pressed to his ear, talking quietly to somebody.

“I’ll uh- I’ll go check on him later today Mrs. L/n..”

‘L/n..?’ Jason pushed himself up. ‘Ah, fuck. Please let it just be a god damn coincidence.’

Dick glanced back at Jason, a tired smile flashed across his face. Jason let him stay at his safe house for the night so he wouldn’t have to travel all the way to the manor, or worse, all the way back to Bludhaven. Laying back, Jason continued to listen in to the half of the conversation he could hear.

“No, sorry, of course not- I’ll call him right-” Dick let out a frustrated sigh.

“I will try Mrs. L/n. Right, thanks- bye.”

Despite the nagging feeling he knew exactly who was on the other side of that line, he asked, “Who was that?”

Dick sat on the edge of his bed, another irritated sigh leaving him.

“Remember Y/n?”

Ah, fuck.

“Yeah.” he said, doing his best to give the impression of disinterest and flippant-ness .

“That was his mom- Y/n works over at the GHL Warehouses- well, he used to before last night. His mom wanted to make sure he was ok.”

Jason breathed out- you were fine. He knew you were fine because you don’t work the night shift anymore- when the bomb went off you should have been safely at home, sound asleep, trying to get some rest for your morning shift.

“Is he?” The deception in his voice was blatant this time, his thoughts having drifted to you and away from the mask he had perfected literally a second ago. Dick turned to look at him, a grin splitting across his face. Dick, who was just as much of a detective as the rest of the family, clocked that something was off immediately.

“What?”

“Oh Jason,” He said, all too happy to have been just talking about you potentially getting blown up. “Are you still into him?”

“Get out.” Jason responded, which only made Dick happier.

“You are, aww Baby Bird’s got a little crush-”

“Fuck off, I’m serious.”

Years ago, before his death, Jason had confided in his brother. During a quiet moment in the library of the manor, Jason told Dick that he liked guys, well, one guy, so far. He didn’t know what he was then and doesn't have the energy to label it now, but he does know that at 14 he had a massive crush on a boy his age that he went to school with– which only became a hundred times worse when he actually became friends with said boy. Y/n. You. One of his few attachments outside of his family.

When he came back he didn’t think about you for years, revenge, rage, and violence were the only things on his mind- but when he settled, you popped back into his mind. Just as much of a stalker as the rest of his family, he did some digging on you. It was invasive as hell, as he went through every bit of public (i.e., the stuff that was only slightly illegal to obtain) information about you before asking Barbara for more private(super illegal) information.

Barb- whose closeness to Jason surprised everyone, including themselves (paralleling traumas, they supposed)- was more than willing. Her moral compass was a bit sideways, understandably, but she couldn’t help but “play match-maker” as she had put it. He intentionally ignored that comment from his accomplice.

It’s how he knew about your work schedule, and just about everything else about you- and why he really, really hated your fucking parents.

He was…captivated. It wasn’t love, he didn’t love you. He didn’t even know you anymore.

…

He should check on you, though. Losing your job so suddenly couldn’t have been easy for you. Finding a legal job in Gotham was hard enough as it was- he didn’t want you spiraling, or worse, getting involved with criminals- except for him. He huffed out a short chuckle. He wished you could get involved with him. He was, legally, still very, very dead. And you had no idea he was back. Which he’s somewhat happy for.

He killed…a lot of people, he got his ass handed to him in public by his father, and had lost his shit in PTSD fueled episodes of rage multiple times.

It was better if you stayed as far away from him as possible. Your life was just getting good, you had friends, an apartment of your own, you could probably fuck anyone you wanted- an unsurprising amount of people were into that independent, blue collar thing you had going on- Jason sure as shit wasn’t immune to it. He wouldn’t be mad if you did- you don’t. He has his ways of knowing. (your entire apartment is bugged thanks to Bruce’s almost unfounded paranoia, which was only a bit fair, Jason and Bruce were still on new ground in their… reborn relationship when he broke into your house for the first time, B probably thought he was trying to kill you, which- if it had been any other member of the family- would have been outlandish and entirely unfounded. But it was him, so…yeah, wasn’t really coming out of left field with that one) Which was a surprise, but a relieving one.

Fucking hell, Dick was still looking at him with that stupid smile.

“You’ve got a boyfriend.”

Jason, as he did everytime a conversation steered in a direction he didn’t like, brought up his own death.

“I don’t have anything, Dick, can’t be anything to him if he still thinks I’m dead.”

“..right.”

A moment passed before Dick spoke again, “He’s fine, by the way. Barb sent a list of the confirmed victims earlier. He wasn’t on it.”

___

Fuck Bruce Wayne. No, really. This guy fucking sucked, you hated him and you hated that the only way you’d be keeping your apartment was by signing up for his stupid unemployment program. You’ve reloaded your inbox a dozen times waiting for the confirmation email, after spending hours upon hours reading through fine print and having to dig out your own documents, send proof of unemployment- you’re brand new letter of termination had been emailed to sometime earlier- and digitally signing your signature with your mouse pad and just wading through piles and piles of exhausting corporate bullshit-

You were really sick of this shit, to say the least.

‘It's been five minutes..’ You thought, glaring at your laptop screen.

Trying not to think about how this was literally the only way you’d be keeping your apartment and not go back to living in your car, you reloaded the page again.

And again and again until finally-

“Congratulations! You have been accepted into the Wayne Int…”

You didn’t even need to open the email, the preview told you all you needed to know, a long sigh of relief leaving you as you shut your laptop.

Well, that’s over, now what.

You’ve worked nearly every day since you’ve got this apartment, and when you weren’t working you were either catching up on sleep or, well, that’s it really. Despite planning on “having afternoons to yourself” when you switched schedules, you haven’t actually done anything with those afternoons, cleaning, watching TV, and texting more than anything. Because of course none of your friend schedules aligned for more than a couple minutes a day- usually early in the morning or really late at night.

You breathed in again- looking out the window, you could see the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, mostly hidden by the typical gothic skyscrapers that were found all over Gotham. Another heavy breath, you rolled out of bed, feeling a sudden pang of hunger after neglecting yourself all day.

You didn’t bother taking your phone with you, even though your mother had pretty much announced to her loyal 1,267 followers that you were okay, you were still getting text and calls at random- you needed to take your mind off of all of this for at least a moment, cooking and then maybe a long, long sleep could help. You did a mental coin toss on what to eat, burger or pasta- either would do, really- conjuring up a slow, dramatic coin toss in your head, letting your subconscious decide.

Heads. Pasta it is.

Rummaging through your cabinet until you pulled out the little pot you were looking for, perfect for a single serving. Filling it with water from the sink- completely forgetting for a moment that this was Gotham and you probably should have checked to see if it had been poisoned or tampered with- it was such a common occurrence that there was a whole app for it…Created and funded by Bruce Wayne of course. You sighed for about the millionth time today. That fucking jerk has his hands in everything- can’t even be in your own home without running into the motherfucker.

You huffed, it’d be fine. If there was something wrong with the water you would have seen it on the news.

Putting the pot on the stove, repeatedly turning the knob until the fire lit. Putting a bit of salt in the water as it heated- staring into the pot for who knows how long as bubbles started to form. Thinking about things hurt right now. You lost half of your co-workers, your income, the first thing you felt you earned on your own, and on top of that you had to indirectly beg a man you couldn’t stand for money. It would only get worse from here. That was guaranteed- but you couldn’t spiral- because that would only make things so, so much worse. So, you’d face whatever the next couple of weeks brought with maturity and strength and when it was all over things would be semi-normal.

Hopefully.

You moved to the cabinet and pulled out a half empty box of bowtie style noodles and dumped them into the boiling water- then moved over to the fridge to see if you had any jarred sauce.

___

Barbara was just about the only person Jason actively texted- he didn’t need casual conversation with anybody else, not yet anyways. Roy maybe could have been the exception, but Roy barely responded, Jason doubted he even kept his phone on him.

Leaving his bike in the alley before scaling your building- resting on the roof for a short moment as he texted Barbara.

“Think you can keep B out?”

She didn’t respond instantly, but when she did,

“You know he’s still home, right?”

‘Obviously, Barb’ he thought as he typed out a response

“I’m just checking on him.”

Then,

“He won’t see me.”

“You’re getting bold, thinking of saying ‘hi’ soon?”

No, definitely not. That would be a horrible idea. It would blow up in his face and he’d not only freak you the fuck out but would piss off his entire family (excluding Barbara, and maybe Dick- now that he’s thinking about it Tim would probably have been a good accomplice too- no, he’s not forming a little stalker crew, not gonna happen). It was, definitively, a terrible idea. Even if the infinitesimally small chance that you wouldn’t lose your shit and he was able to have any semblance of a relationship with you was calling his name like no other, he wasn’t going to take that risk. Stalking you- no, watching you in a completely non obsessive, platonic manner, would be all he did- and an occasional breaking and entering. But that was all.

“No” he finally responded.

She sent a sad face emoji back, then a middle finger, then,

“You’ve got 5 minutes.”

That jolted him into action, the sun quickly setting over Gotham as he crossed the building. He’s done this enough times to know just how to get through your window. Using a rope to scale down to the 4th floor windows- stopping right next to yours, closed, but unlocked for once. Good, he wasn’t looking forward to picking the lock.

As quietly as he could, he pushed your window open, cursing at the small creek it made about halfway up. Slipping inside, landing silently on his toes, pausing before pressing forward. Pressed against the wall of your nearly pitch black room, your bedroom door cracked open he could see the yellow-ish light emitting from outside it, he could hear you shuffling around out there, the faucet running for a second, and the ticking of the gas stove as you turned it on and off and on again. You were fine, you were up and active, cooking, not sulking. You were fine.

Mission complete.

Time to go..

He heard you open the fridge, let out a small sigh before closing it.

He leaned closer to the door, peaking through the small opening- your apartment small enough for him to see everything from his place in your room, including you standing in the kitchen standing over a boiling pot of whatever it was you were cooking. Ok, seriously, you were ok, he needs to go- he’s already been here for too long- he’s sure his time is up. You were fine, you are fine.

“Fuck, ow-” You muttered to yourself, barely audible in the already near silent apartment.

He pressed forward again, taking a step, then another, until he was standing just behind the door- half hidden in the dark room, illuminated by the kitchen light.

—--

‘Stupid fucking cheap pot, why the fuck is the handle so hot?’ You thought as you checked your hand for any actual burns. You were fine, but dammit that hurt- first thing you’d when you got a new job, buy better pots and pans- ones that didn’t scorch your hands when you touched the handle. Turning around to face the sink, and run some cold water over your flushed hand-

What the fuck was that.

You paused at the sink. As you turned, you caught a glimpse of something…red. Just barely illuminated, standing in your bedroom.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, a feeling of impending doom washes over you as you turn to stare at whatever it is you just saw. Red and shiny, with stark white eyes- the rest of whatever the hell it was is hidden by the darkness of your bedroom and the door.

A part of you wants to run- out of the apartment and into the street, scream for help at the top of your lungs until either whatever it was caught you, or one of many vigilantes showed up. Unfortunately, you lived in the absolute shit hole that was Gotham- so you were more likely to be an unsolved case than actually get saved. You really, really didn’t want to join the billion of unsolved cases already plaguing Gotham- you had so much more life to live, and shit was just getting good, well- not really but you still didn’t want to fucking die. Shit still could get good in the future! As long as you don’t get murdered tonight.

‘Ok, time to think rationally,’ You thought, eyes still locked on the whatever-the-fuck-it-is standing in the doorway, ‘I’m not dead yet, so maybe it doesn’t want to kill me, maybe it’s..I don’t know, trying to rob me or something.’

Robbed was probably the best possibility, considering all the other things that it could be.

“I do not have any money, I’m poor as fuck I swear, can you please leave?” You tried.

You nearly tripped over your own feet, clambering backwards as the thing moved forward, stepping into the light and-

…

…Somebody is fucking with you, you almost immediately decide as your brain finally processes what you had been seeing this entire time. Fucking Red Hood. Every bit of fear is replaced with frustration and annoyance.

Taking a deep breath, you put your hands over your face, letting out a groan that quickly turns into a small, muffled scream.

Why? Why you? Huh? This is the second vigilante home intrusion you’ve experienced. You weren’t afraid of vigilantes, you had no reason to be- you aren’t a criminal and unlike certain organizations, they actually protect the innocent and whatnot. So, for you at the very least, seeing them was less of a terrifying experience than it was a wonder to behold…as long as they’re not in your fucking house. You just wanted to eat dinner. You just wanted to eat dinner and go to bed and then watch stupid 2000’s shows in the morning. But no Red Hood is in your house, and now your whole night is interrupted and you’re stressed and irritated and you really want to throw the nearest thing at him- but that’s rude and he might actually be here for a reason so you should really get out of your own head and hear him out.

You bring your hands down to your side, take a deep breath, and stare right into the eyes of his helmet.

“What do you want?”

—--

Jason has a very inappropriate answer to that question- he doesn’t say it, he doesn’t even give himself the chance to fully think it. But he does need to find an appropriate answer as to why he was in your house.

“You work at GHL?” He asked, his voice unwavering.

You rolled your eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck in the back of your skull. Fuck, you’ve always had a bad attitude, he hasn’t seen it up close in years. He hasn’t seen you this close in years either. During his…other illegal excursions in your house, he always kept a respectful distance from you, mostly out of fear of waking you up, but also because standing over you while you were asleep just felt…wrong.

You groaned, crossing your arms as your glare set on him.

“Yes, I worked at GHL before it blew up, no, I don’t have anything to do with the explosion, I was here all night, there are cameras in the halls, feel free to check them if you think I'm lying. Is there anything else or can you go now?”

Fuck- uh.

“No.” He said, before he could even come up with a reason why.

“‘No’?!” You were, reasonably, upset by this, “Why the hell not?”

‘Good question,’ he thought.

“I know-” Jason started without actually knowing what he wanted to say, his voice modulator making him sound a lot more sure of his words than he actually was, “-you’ve been very..vocal about your disapproval of the police in Gotham, they were temporarily holding a shipment of weapons and ammo there.”

Accusing you of being a criminal maybe wasn’t the best option, definitely wouldn’t get him into your good graces, but it was believable- his preexisting knowledge of you made it just that much easier, even if you look offended by the accusation.

“So what, you’re stalking me?”

You don’t even know the half of it..

“Investigating you.” He responded sternly.

You nodded, so clearly on the verge of losing your shit, “Right, right, ‘investigating’. I don’t care what you call it, I already told you I wasn’t involved in whatever happened so can you please-”

A sudden, blaring alarm shocked both you and Jason. You stormed back into the kitchen a pot of what was previously edible pasta sauce having been reduced to a soldering, smoking mess. Frustrated mumbling filled the space, you groaned and growled as you grabbed the pot handle with a towel and damn near threw it into the sink, turning on the faucet and letting it run. You turned to him, thoroughly pissed off at this point, so many thoughts and words festering in your mind- probably vulgar and violent- but you said nothing, clenching your fist at him and staring at his mask with an nearly dazed but somehow still enraged expression before turning to handle the fire alarm. Using a towel to fan smoke away from it until it stopped beeping.

Then, you sat on the floor, facing away from him. Breathing deeply, rocking slightly. Jason just stared, there wasn’t much else he could do-

He heard you sigh, the tension in your shoulder reducing until you were slightly hunched over.

“You owe me dinner.” You said, calmly.

Jason blinked behind his mask- that’s it? You were over it? Just like that?

He halfway expected to be yelled at, hell, he’s surprised you didn’t throw the pot at him. But the ability to just calm down wasn’t something that came easily, if at all to Jason.

“I can do that.”

You sighed again, pushing yourself up off the floor. Turning to him, you face tired and your eyes dark- he knows he just made an already hard day even harder for you, he knows the guilt is going to crush him later, too.

“I know you’re just doing your job and all but you’re kinda a jerk, you know that, right?” Your tone was flat and dim, “Look, I don’t know anything about what happened. I’m just…really fucking tired now so can you just go?”

I know

“I believe you.”

You sighed, “Good, I’m going to bed now, good night.”

He watched as you walked past him, your shoulder bumping him and he tried to ignore how his heart clenched at even the briefest touch from you.

“Oh, and-” you glanced over your shoulder at him, “-if you’re going to come back, use the door.”

You didn’t give him time to respond, closing the bedroom door behind you.

He stood in your apartment alone, a minute passes, and then another as he attempts to process what had just happened and just how fucked he was when Bruce inevitably found out. But…

A small smile crept on his face, could have been a lot worse, you don’t hate him, hell, you invited him to come back in a way. Bruce might scream his head off at him and he’d likely be placed under some kind of suspension and heavily monitored for the foreseeable future. But none of that mattered right now, because he’s seen you, he’s talked to you, and suddenly he has a goal.

—-

Last night felt like a fever dream, but you could tell it was real. Early in the morning, when the sun was just barely peeking through your window, there was a knock on your door- your bedroom door. You should have been freaked out by it, but you had a sneaking suspicion that a familiar red jerk was on the other side. Stretching and yawning before getting up, your body was more tired than you realized, feeling heavy and anchored as you dragged your feet to the door. When you opened it, there was nobody there, but a little white paper bag sat on the floor just outside. You looked around, the living room and the kitchen were both empty and the big red jerk was nowhere to be seen.

Taking the bag in your hands, the familiar logo of the 24 hour cafe down the street plastered on it, as well as a note. Taped to the bag, a torn square of paper read,

“Not dinner, but I figured this was close enough.

And I used the door this time. You’re welcome.

-R.H”

And for some stupid, unfortunate reason, you found it charming.

“Fucking stalker..” you muttered, fighting a smile as walked back to your bed with the bag.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x male!reader #male!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x male reader #red hood x male!reader #red hood x you #red hood x reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader

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imaginarytree · 2 days ago

Text

αγάπη που ξεπερνά την αιωνιότητα

love that transcends eternity

The endless daylight was...new to you and the fellow Trailblazers and was something you were still getting used to

you expected a lot of things in a world untouched by what lied beyond it but you did not expect this

A man who looked like someone you once held dear to your heart following you with a vigor that reminded you of the carefree days that no longer existed

Snow white hair and striking blue eyes that would be forever engraved both in your heart and in your soul

someone you knew yet someone new

a strange paradox you wanted to dismiss as a cosmic joke of the past you left behind haunting you once more

everywhere you turned he would be there waiting for you with seemingly endless energy yet you couldn't find it in you to ever feel tired or upset as he would give you a gaze so familiar it took your breath away from you

Phainon he called himself

you suppose that helps not make it as painful for you as his presence was

that all changed one day

you had been wandering to help refugees around Okhema to get settled

at first it was just a sweep of wind and a glance of the shadows but it felt different to you

you knew that gaze

you knew who that was

your heart called out before your mind did

it recognized HIM

so when he took you away from the dangers that threatened Okhema you never once felt unsafe

a man on with a dark cloak and a mask

someone mysterious to everyone else but to you

he didn't speak and neither did you to break the fragile bubble you both were in

someone who you had just seen kill without as much as breaking a sweat holding you as if he was holding a flower in a harsh wind

slowly you reached your hand towards his mask but before you could he grabbed it firmly with his own

you weren't intimidated and soon enough he relented when he saw you weren't planning to back down

slowly and gently set his mask aside to be met with familiar ivory locks and duller blue eyes

a hauntingly familiar face and presence that stole the breath from your lungs

He looked exactly like the one your heart had yearned for

tears pricked your eyes but before they could fall they were wiped away by the hands of the one you could never forget no matter how long you were apart nor no matter what world you were in

You leaned your forehead against his and put a hand on his cheek as you watched him relish in your presence as much as you did knowing this moment wouldn't last long

To commemorate the moment you both leaned into each other in a fragile and a tender brush of the lips as a sign that you both truly would find each other anywhere and everywhere and come back to one another with the undying devotion that would forever transcend destiny

Unfortuntely the moment was short lived as you both had to part ways quickly however the brush of the fingers on his promised that this wouldn't be the end

You would return to him just as he will return to you

ομορφιά της σιωπής

beauty of silence

first time writing something more than a headcannon i want to shoot myself cause i feel cringe💀

#phainon #phainon x reader #hsr phainon #kevin kaslana #phainon hsr #fluff and feels #tis' a bit too cringe someone improve it i beg of you😭#i miss my wife tails #Hi3 Kevin Kaslana

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lovely-parasite-04 · 1 day ago

Text

Iced Coffee, Detective?

Agnes!Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Prologue

Part 1

SUMMARY: Y/N makes it to Agatha's house expecting an hour or two of entertainment and instead finds herself in more "trouble" than she prepared for.

WARNINGS: Mention of a gun, Agatha being Agatha

NOTE: This was a long time coming, lol. I got a lot more interaction than expected, and I was so excited! However, for the longest time I didn't know where to take my little blurb and had this part halfway finished just collecting dust. I also was feeling partially guilty for picking this back up when I have scholarship essays to write but heehee oh well that will happen when it happens. ANYWAY I hope you enjoy and if you have thoughts, feel free to share :)

Walking through the neighborhood to get to Agatha's house, I made it a point to avoid looking at the plot of land Wanda Maximoff had decided to take over during her time here. There was no longer a house there, and the concrete foundation that was left had graffiti all over it. I think it's the first of anything I have seen vandalized in Westview. Despite the words overlapping and being hastily spray painted onto the small structure, I didn't need to know what it was all about; there was nothing nice written in all that mess about the Scarlet Witch or her actions in Westview.

Agatha's lovely house was to the right.

It was a very cozy house on the outside, with beautifully green bushes almost blocking the front windows and what looked like the outside of a bay window to the left of the door. Overall the property looked shockingly plain to hold someone so...not plain. Who knows what I would find on the inside.

What was I even doing here, anyway? I don't have to be here. There was absolutely no obligation to follow through with Agatha's summoning. She would have forgotten about it soon enough. But now I'm in front of her door after my shift to...what? To be questioned about someone - who I'm certain is imaginary - I lied about knowing? To entertain Agatha and then in turn myself? To maybe get a little insight on this curse of hers? To see her play "bad cop" with no "good cop" to save me?

Jesus, just knock on the door.

I raised my hand, shaking my loud-ass thoughts away and deciding to wing it. Suddenly the door swings open and I almost "assault an officer." Agatha catches my fist before it lands in her face, "Woah! Watch out there, kid." Her hair was still up but a little rattier like she'd just been napping - if her clothes were anything to go by. A Star Trek T-shirt that's two sizes two big, velvet sweatpants, and purple fuzzy socks.

I couldn't help a giggle escape me and I blurted out, "Did you just wake up?"

"You were supposed to call before you came in. I could have been out following a lead, or in a meeting."

"Oh, lucky timing I guess." Right. Stick to the script. Even if you don't have a copy of said "script" for yourself. This would be an actor's worst nightmare.

I have to clear my throat to remind her she's still got my wrist held above my head, and then I swallow at the thought.

"Seriously though, the door is glass. You didn't need to knock." She drops my wrist and immediately turns on her heel into her house - I swear I see her start to yawn, but then maybe being under the spell is exhausting. I know after the town was liberated, I stayed in my bed for days just recovering. The door was definitely not glass, so she must have heard me pull into her driveway and watched me through the window. At least now I have a little clue to what she thinks her "prescient" looks like. An office with a glass door. Neat.

I mentally smack myself knowing now that she watched me stare at her door for so long. I can't be embarrassed for too long though, because entering Agatha's house was like entering a new world - and not one I expected. The dark wood and light green walls gave an earthy cozy feel to the living room and the sofa looked old and comfy. I catch sight of a wall covered in random pictures of grass and flowers with red yarn connecting them every-which-way. Agatha pulls a funky looking arm chair up to her coffee table, gesturing for me to sit on the sofa. I comply - I was right about the couch - and I notice the head of a garden hose lying on the table in front of me.

"Sorry," Agatha takes it and puts it into the side of her pants? "There shouldn't be any need for that, right?"

No way that's what she's using for a gun.

"Um...no, ma'am."

"Great. Goooood." She smacks her lips and pulls a Manila folder out of nowhere, switching it between her hands almost to taunt me. Her eyes haven't left me since I arrived. "We'll get to this in a second. First, tell me about how you knew the girl."

Uh-oh.

My hands were suddenly damp and I did my best to rub them off on my own pants, looking around as if that'd give me a clue to what my relationship was with this fake victim. Then I remembered the pictures of flowers on the wall. "I-We were gardeners. Together. We gardened together...all the time."

Agatha's eyes squinted and her lips pursed, "Interesting." That was the worst lying I had ever done, but how could she not believe me? Wouldn't her mind just make something up to go with her narrative anyway? "How did you two meet? Garden club?"

"Sure."

"Oh really? And who else was in this club? Probably a bunch of other old ladies."

"Woah. Rude."

"Moving on." She suddenly stands and drops the file she had in her hands and I choke on air as she bends over to pick it up. The velvet sweatpants she's wearing have the word "Naughty," bedazzled on the butt. This is definitely entertaining. If someone knocked me out right now and woke me back up to tell me I dreamed all of this, I'd believe them. She whips back around and offers the file to me, "Let's take a look at this file, huh? Sound like fun?"

Fun. For sure.

I take the file from her hand, now unable to take the image of her bedazzled ass out of my mind, while she circles the couch and leans over my shoulder. I'm perfectly still as I feel her cheek a hair away from mine. I can smell her shampoo, I think. It's mostly a clean smell with a small floral hint to it.

Great. Now I'm taking in the notes of her scent. I can't fall for the town hero/cook/ancient witch. What would that make me? The idiot? Definitely some sort of idiot. Then it hits me that she is unfortunately exactly my type: older, brunette, and a little deranged. I'm toast.

"Go ahead." She whispers in my ear. Dear god. "No need to be scared. There's nothing in there you can't handle."

Taking a deep breath, mainly to slow down my now rapid heartbeat, I open the file. Inside are some bills addressed to someone named Ralph Bohner - tragic last name - and a couple blank papers. I pretend to take it in but have no idea where to go from here, so I look back at Agatha. Big mistake. Her mouth is now a hair away from my mouth.

My neck nearly breaks from how far and fast my head shoots back, and I guess Agatha thinks she startled me because she chuckles before standing straight again. "Just as I thought..." What? What does that mean?

She comes around the couch and her hands are shaped into finger-guns with her two index fingers pressed against her lips in a thoughtful manner. Until she's leaning over me, her arms supporting her weight against the back of the couch on either side of my head. Her face is centimeters away from mine. I know I'm blushing but I'm praying to whatever's out there that she can't see the red under that spell of hers. She cranes her neck past my face to be right by my ear again and whispers, "I know it was you."

Huh?!

"I don't-"

"Pretty interesting reaction you had to my file there...only a guilty killer would act that way when faced with the cold. Hard. Truth." She yells the last part and I knock my head into her arm trying to lean away from it. Pushing herself back up straight, she looks down her nose at me and gives half a chuckle and god do I have butterflies right now?! "I'm afraid I'm gonna be taking you in now."

Taking me in? What does that mean for her? What will that mean for me? I've been found guilty? For a crime that doesn't even exist by a cop that's not even a cop. This has gone too far. I need to get out of here. I'll make it out of here and go home and never mess with the town cook again. I can't get tangled in this - what am I meant to do?

I slowly start to scooch to the edge of the couch with my hands up in surrender. "Aw man, that sucks. Well listen, Ms Harkness - Detective! Sorry, Detective Harkness. I..I have homework that is due tonight and damn look at the time. It's been fun-" Making the most coherent excuses I can think of knowing damn well she's only gonna hear what she wants to, I slowly stand and begin to back away when her own hands shoot up. Before I can do anything at all, red fuzzy handcuffs are around both my wrists. I choke on air while Agatha stands there completely serious. I really hope these are meant to be regular handcuffs and don't belong to her. I don't think I could handle it otherwise.

"You're not going anywhere, toots."

Now I'm really toast.

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

#lesbian #wlw #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #agatha x reader #agnes o'connor #detective agnes o'connor #detective agatha #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x you #agatha x you #agatha harkness fanfiction #fanfic

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teal-fiend · 3 hours ago

Text

The predator lay sprawled in the clearing, belly swollen and taut, rising and falling with the slow, steady rhythm of deep slumbering breathing.

Even in repose, the creature exuded a languid dominance, of something that had eaten well and had no need to move. And who had nothing to fear

A small group of hikers had stumbled across the scene on accident

“Wow,” someone whispered, breaking the stillness.

“That thing is full.”

No one responded right away. The sight was shocking—a belly so round and heavy that it seemed almost unnatural, pushing the predator into a lazy sprawl. Their chest and belly rose with each deep breath.

A steady gurgling emitted from deep within the stomach.

The group exchanged wary glances. They alresdy had suspicions. Then one of them spotted it. Lying just near the predator’s outstretched fingers, half-buried in the grass, was a familiar bracelet. unmistakable.

“That’s—” The words caught in a throat.

The realisation sank like a stone. Their friend had worn that bracelet this morning. And now… now they were in there, sealed inside that large heaving gut, reduced to nothing more than a heavy, satisfying meal for a predator

The predator shifted slightly in their sleep, exhaling and letting out a thick, sleepy belch. No one spoke. There was nothing to do.

The predator stirred with a slow, languid stretch, their body weighed down by the sheer fullness of their gut. A satisfied sigh escaped them, followed by a low, sleepy groan as they shifted against the ground.

Their belly sloshed slightly with the movement, an immense burden to carry. When their eyes fluttered open, they were met with a small gathering of stunned, wide-eyed onlookers.

The predator blinked at them, sluggish with digestion, then yawned, rubbing at their stomach.

“…What are you all doing just standing there?” they asked, voice drowsy. “Watching me digest?”

No one answered right away. A silence pressed over the clearing.

One of them finally found their voice,

""You… you ate our friend.”

The predator furrowed their brow, still dazed by sleep, still hazy from the digestion.

Then their gaze flickered downward—to the still-prominent swell of their stomach, the noisy, kneading gurgles within.

Their expression remained unreadable for a moment, until Realisation settled over them, but there was no horror in it.

“…Ah,” they murmured, pressing a palm against their belly as if it were an afterthought. Their stomach let out a contented groan beneath their touch.

“That was them, was it?” the pred asked, unbothered.

The group tensed. The predator then gave a slow, sleepy nod.

“Sorry about that,” they admitted, “Didn’t realize they were your friend.” They gave their stomach an awkward rub.

“But, to be fair… they were delicious.”

One of the onlookers let out a horrified noise. Another took a step back.

The predator sighed, adjusting their position on the ground, still too full to move properly.

“I mean, They went down so easy. And—” They yawned, long and tired. “They’re settling just fine.”

The group gaped at them, expressions shifting between disbelief and unease.

“…Anyway,” the predator continued awkwardly, fingers drumming idly against their gut. “Thanks for checking in."

No one said anything, so the pred continued talking.

"I uh… I think I’ll nap a little longer. Takes a lot out of you, y’know?”

And just like that, they lay back anf let their eyes drift shut again, unconcerned, unbothered, sinking back into the grass.

After the pred had started to nod off again, one of the onlookers, cleared their throat.

“Um…” Their voice was tentative, carefully measured. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you could… let them out?”

The predator cracked an eye open, raising a brow. Then they exhaled mildly annoyed, then sat up, their belly pressing heavily against their lap.

They gave their stomach a gentle jostle. The response was immediate—a thick, wet slosh; the sound of something long past solid. The group stiffened.

The predator tilted their head, watching their reactions, although not truly concerned.

“I mean… I could let them out,” they said, voice low. They kneaded at their belly again, coaxing out a rich, heavy glorp. “But I don’t think you’d like what comes back up.”

The person who asked swallowed hard. Another light shake of the preds stomach sent a deep, sloshing sound through their midsection.

“Not much left to ‘let out’ in the way you mean.” Their tone wasn’t cruel—just matter-of-fact.

The group stared, a mixture of horror and reluctant acceptance.

“Sorry,” the predator murmured. Their stomach groaned again. They gave it an appreciative pat.

The group stared down at the predator. The predator looked back up at them. They werent leaving

“Look,” they started, their voice softer now, sympathetic. “I get it. It must be hard, seeing your friend like this—but—urp—!” the pred cleared their throat, "excuse me, uh, but yeah."

"having to see them in a gut, right in front of you—it’s gotta be—bboUUUrPP!”

The pred paused to lick their lips

"Its tough" the pred finished. "But I think you need to move on. And physically too, you should probably get out of here."

"I mean, Im full, I wont be causing any more trouble but there are others who are still hungry."

#v/ore #tw vore #v.ore

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rinseveryday · 2 days ago

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Idk why, but i always imagine rin with like… gigant horns, but i never cam think HOW they would like(like, sheep, goat, "generic demon"…)

Thanks for the ask!

I've seen my friends draw them in different ways! Usually they're kinda longer versions of his little nubs, kind of on the skinny side. Deer Antler! Rin seems to be a niche but really cool choice (I gotta go find those to reblog again later). Since Rin is a generic Shonen Protag Guy design, I'd say he'd get a Generic Demon Lord horn design in the shape of his flames with more flames floating around them yeahhhh get all the flames.

Personally I've always really liked the idea of his ethereal flame horns so I never really thought too hard on what kinda physical horns I'd like to see on him, besides ofc the idea that he would inherit Satan's look. BUT since I love Rin SO MUCH, I'll do a little deep dive just for you anon.

Spoilers under the cut for Post-ch 98 of the manga and Post-Season 5 of the anime. Just in case.

Kato seems to have gone the "generic demon" route if we look at the shape of his flame horns. They have a round base and curve out and up. And you're right, if they were material, they'd be pretty dang big!

I really like how the tips can be wiggly cuz they're just flames. They'd be so mesmerizing to stare at OwO

Ahem, back to theorizing about physical horns. There was a Q&A in one of the extras from one of the Of One Cloth volumes I believe, but I can't check right now because I know if I do I'll just start rereading them all and crying so here's a redrawing of what that Q&A was about.

Basically someone asked why Rin got little tiny nubbins and Rin was like "yea wtf give me something cooler! something bigger!" and then Kato went "be careful what you wish for" and gave him huge horns that would probably break his poor little neck.

Of course, Kato never gave a straight answer to the asker and we barely even get to see his nubbins anymore, but I think these silly horns came back in the form of whatever tf is atop Satan's noggin. I'm sure Kato never gave Rin these because can you imagine having to draw the main protagonist with these for more than like, two chapters? At one point there was a panel that looked like he had weird fingers with claw nails on his head :/

Rin also has a second horn form for when he goes Sicko Mode. I have no idea what they're supposed to be other than his normal horns merged into a V-shape, but I like to think of them as a crown. I drew them floating above his head, kinda like how Hellboy's full horns look, but smaller cuz he's just a bby demon.

As an artist... those horns just look like a lot of work to draw. But if you haven't seen Hellboy 1 or 2 yet, I'd really recommend it! It's got a lot of stuff an AoEx fan would like, especially Hellboy's cool horns that he shaves down because they're a lot of work to draw I MEAN a pain in the neck to have.

#ask #rin okumura #theory #text #my art #okumura rin #blue exorcist #ao no exorcist #horns #hellboy #manga #fanart

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letmebeyourcrrsh · 2 days ago

Text

the echo of his broken heart Ⅱ

idol!jeongin x reader

warnings: a lil sad?

other than that it has a happy ending

genre: another try

summary: you and jeongin broke up three years ago.. you really thought it was over forever, until the world decide to make you two meet again

click here to read Part 1

it had been three years. three long years since you and jeongin had parted ways. the memories of the time you spent together lingered in the back of your mind—flashes of happiness, of closeness—but they were always overshadowed by the pain of your breakup.

you had moved on, or at least, you tried. but there were still days when you found yourself thinking of him—wondering if things could have been different, if you would not get caught by the fans. you missed him. you really did. more than you thought and more than you wanted..

as much as you tried to completely delete I.N out of your life.. you always ended up searching his name on the internet… reading the latest news, watching the groups performances, listening to their comebacks. you really needed him. you had to hear his voice once again, had to hold him close to you… needed him back in your life…

you were walking through the crowded streets of seoul, enjoying the rare, peaceful moment of a day off. the hustle and bustle of the city surrounded you, but you felt detached from it, lost in your own thoughts. after some time, you ducked into the nearest bakery, to escape the noise for a while, and to get yourself something freshly baked.. and that’s when you saw him.

jeongin.

he was standing there, pointing down at freshly baked buns, completely unaware of your presence. his dark hair had grown a little longer since the last time you saw him, and he himself looked older, more mature. Seeing him right here, infront of you, is a lot more different than seeing him on screen.. the boy who had once meant everything to you. the boy that you thought you lost forever, is now here… in the same place as you.

your heart skipped a beat, as you heard him softly laughing at something the baker said. his laugh.. it has not changed at all. it is still as precious as you remember it. no… even better… you were so drowned in your thoughts, so focused in staring.. looking him up and down and analyzing every part of him, that you didn’t even realize he was already paying. as soon as you snapped out of your thoughts, seeing he was turning to leave, you quickly turned away. turned your head to the wall, just so the man you missed so badly will not see you. not now. you aren’t ready. you cant face him right here right now- or are you just.. scared …

finally you were heading out of the bakery. your thoughts filled with what just happened- no way that after three years, only now you had seen him in reality… why would this happen? why would you suddenly meet him? you were so lost in your thoughts that you even accidentally bumped into someone.

“ sorry. “ you said.

“Y/N…” you heard the man saying softly, his voice a little shaky.

your eyes widened and you immediately looked up. it felt like your heart stopped beating… your hands starting to tremble did not help at all. why is he still here?! he should’ve been gone already. not knowing what to say you just stepped back, looking down at your shoes.

you both stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do or what to say. the weight of the three years that had passed since you last saw each other hung heavily between you.

“I didn’t think I’d ever run into you again,” he now said, trying to break the tension. right after he added: “ I am sorry… I saw you in the line- I was getting bread too and.. then I saw you and.. I was like.. so like- and i- “

you couldn’t help but smile a little. what was that just now.. jeongin.exe stopped working?

I.N let out a nervous sigh before he continued talking. “ you know Y/N.. you haven’t changed that much… and still so much changed about you. how is that supposed to work? “

“ I have the same feeling innie…” you said softly, looking back up at him, actually making eye contact now. god his eyes are unreal… magical as always! and then you asked: “umm… did you wait for me?”

another awkward silence filled the space between you.

“I apologize- my legs wouldn’t move away. they just glued themselves to this place. I just wanted to see you closer that badly.. it was a bad idea to wait for you, am I right?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost like he was afraid of the answer.

you swallowed, your throat dry. he wanted to see you? really? or well.. why wouldn’t he? he was hurt by the breakup as much as you. he loves you still as much as you.. or… what if he moved on? “Its alright… ” you said, your voice sounding more distant than you wanted. “ impressive. my legs would probably run so fast, just to be far away- ”

jeongin nodded slowly, looking like he was trying to find the right words. “ah.. I never really stopped thinking about you.”

your heart beat a little faster at his words, the vulnerability in his eyes catching you off guard. you hadn't expected him to say that.

“I thought about you too,” you said quietly. “so much time had passed.”

jeongin’s face softened, his lips pressing into a thin line. “ it is still hurtin me a lot, Y/N. i’ve thought about the breakup a lot, and I... I just wish nothing of all that would’ve happened.”

“maybe we should... talk about it sometime?” you suggested, unsure if this was a great idea.

jeongin gave you a small, almost relieved smile. “yeah. I think that sounds good.”

and just after that, you bowed down and left.

over the next few days, you found yourself running into jeongin more and more. it wasn’t planned, but every time you saw him, it felt easier to talk. you started having small conversations—about your lives, your work, what you’d been up to during the years you spent apart.

one day, you even agreed to grab coffee together. the awkwardness of your first meeting was gone, replaced with something lighter, more comfortable. you talked, laughed, and for the first time in a long time, you felt at ease.

"remember when we used to come here all the time?" jeongin asked, his eyes bright with nostalgia as you both sat at your usual table in the café.

you smiled, nodding. "yeah. I’d forgotten how much I missed it."

jeongin’s expression softened, and he looked at you with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “I missed you too, you know.”

your heart tightened. “I missed you too,” you said, voice trembling slightly.

he reached across the table, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently placed it over yours. the touch was familiar and comforting, and it felt like nothing had changed. like you were finally finding your way back to something you had lost.

“you know,” jeongin said, his voice soft, “maybe we could try again. slowly. see where it goes. I promise I will be more careful.. we wont get caught again! and.. and- and if we would, I wouldn’t be so silent about it no more.. I promise.”

the simple thought of starting over, of rebuilding something that had once meant so much, filled you with hope. you hadn’t expected this—didn’t expect to see him again, let alone have the chance to try again—but here you were. and maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. you squeezed his hand gently, smiling. “I think I’d like that.”

over the next few weeks, you and jeongin began to spend more time together. you went on walks through the city, had late-night talks about everything and nothing, and slowly, you found yourselves falling back into each other’s rhythm. It wasn’t the same as before—it was even more…

one evening, as you both stood on his balcony, watching the stars above, jeongin turned to you with a soft, but big smile.

“I’m really glad we ran into each other that day,” he said quietly. “I think...even tho I believed it was over. I was actually meant to see you again.”

you turned to him, your heart swelling with emotions. “me too.”

and just like that, the two of you, who once thought you had lost each other forever, found your way back.

and now… nothing will break your relationship. now it’s a forever. even if the whole world will be against you two. and where they used to be a broken heart, is now a healed one..

thats it.. omg this one is so bad. i hope you like it anyways! and also i am planning to do a part 3. where Y/N meets all the 7 boys again after three years.

if this hits over 150 notes then ill actually write it

#stray kids #k pop #jeongin #jeongin fanfic #jeongin x reader #jeongin x y/n #skz x reader

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chaifootsteps · 5 hours ago

Note

idk if you've heard of him but there's a youtuber called friendly space ninja who reviews TV shows.

anyway, he did a video on The Vampire Diaries and had a section about the racism problem the writers have. it was one of those things where if it had just been one thing it would have been 'OK not great, that could be fixed' but it was this never ending list of ways in which PoC on the show were treated as second class where I don't think anyone in their right mind could deny it when you lay it all out, start to finish

that's how I feel about how female characters are treated on Hazbin but especially on Helluva.

to give an idea of scale:

took nearly two seasons for Millie to get her own episode and it's about her having to babysit Blitzo and Moxxie and gives her hangups about her class out of nowhere

episode about Millie and Moxxie having the same ex shows his backstory only, with Millie's shunted into some hypothetic future episode even though the ex is now dead and no one has any reason to care any longer

episode about going to Millie's home is a Moxxie episode where the main drama is between Moxxie and Striker and Blitzo and Striker

Unhappy Campers tries to be a Millie episode and is still a Moxxie episode

Millie complaining that they, an assassin business, shouldn't skip out on an assassin job, is framed as pregnancy hormones

Millie gets a surprise pregnancy storyline because Viv doesn't know what else to do with her (she basically admitted that on a tweet thread where she also admitted prioritising Stolas, Moxxie and Blitzo instead of just, idk, rewriting the story to make a female character have more of a dynamic with the main male lead)

Loona has two focus episodes and basically stops being a character in her own right in season two

Loona's sad orphanage backstory is used in a flashback to benefit Blitzo's emotional breakthrough. the backstory hasn't come up again since

Loona and Millie's screentime has basically been handed to Stolas, who got all the song numbers, too

Loona is supposed to be friendless /awkward but has friends over for Sinsmas? would have been nice to see that development

Loona and Millie are two main characters but they barely have a consistent dynamic with each other and certainly don't feel like friends.

Verosika goes from interesting ex who might also have contributed to the breakup with her alcoholism (some ambiguity at least) to character who exists solely to be hung up on Blitzo, explain his intimacy problems and to cheerlead for Stolas (who she doesn't know and is nothing but rude and judgemental to her)

Fails the Mako Mori test and probably also the Bechdel Test, two seasons in

Via goes from sort of well fleshed out to just a prop to make Stolas cry. Like Blitzo, the valid reasons she could criticize him are played down as much as possible and she's framed as not getting what's really going on

Stella is in an arranged marriage but the show only portrays Stolas as the victim (even though he has more money and power than her and she was forced to physically deliver an egg she didn't want, basically making her a depiction of the nightmares of being a tradwife in a society that treats her like an incubator - this likely wasn't the writer's intent but it speaks to a basic lack of empathy for the backstory they've written for Stella)

Stella having parties and socialising is used as proof of how vapid she is even though she has little else to do since she's stuck being Stolas' wife (and there's nothing wrong with liking parties? this is the exact opposite of the Mane Six in MLP who model a lot of different pursuits and ways of being female without looking down on any of them)

Stella in general is a caricature of a shrew wife who makes Lisa from The Room look subtle

why is Stella so abusive? she was born evil; no further questions.

cheating is wrong only if you're female. if you're male your wife will be rewritten to be a 2D depiction of an abuser

also if you're male cheating is fine. it's so fine that Blitzo will refuse to kill two cheating men and claim it's not that big a deal because he's projecting he and Stolas onto them

male villains are fun performance pieces. female villains are Stella and Glitz&Glam

Speaking of Glitz and Glam, they're two dimensional bitches and it's treated like it's good when they get hurt and that they'll be Mammon's new victims

both Moxxie and Blitzo's mother go unnamed in the show despite dying horrifically. they don't get a single line despite both of their fathers being named and with speaking parts - they exist to be tragic saints before being stuffed into the fridge. Blitzo's mother in particular is a major source of his angst. Moxxie's father's bodyguard, meanwhile, was given his own name despite being a bit part who matters not at all on an emotional level (and is shipped with Crimson by the fandom who is happy to flesh out his character despite his also being abusive). the closest we have to a well written mother is Lin, Millie's mother, who appeared back in - hey, season one! what are the odds?

Stolas' mother also doesn't appear to be present on this plane of existence. Paimon meanwhile gets his own introduction and a big chunk of screen time

and even this list might not cover everything!

I ask anyone who can read this and still thinks the show is fine at writing women - how can you still believe that?

and for the 'it's only halfway done!!' crowd I'll simply point out this: in order to fix even half of the issues I've laid out the show would have to have a very heavy focus on its female characters during its back half.

and as of right now we have no reason to believe that will happen. Stolas has joined IMP so he'll only get more screentime - we'll just never be rid of him. Bland as bread Vassago will probably get more screentime alongside Andrealphus, not to mention the likelihood of forcing the audience to endure a Blitzo/Stolas/Vassago love triangle because the fandom likes the idea and I could see Viv going for it too. Stolas is probably going to be given a storyline that's nominally about him learning to have empathy for the poor but in reality is just more of him not changing, bitching and moaning like always while Blitzo waits on him hand and foot.

Via is very likely about to be villainized or at least made to look even more dumb and mean for daring to cut her father off, if that storyline even lasts longer than a few episodes before Viv and Stolas give up caring about it (he'd practically thrown in the towel already in the s2 finale).

what room is there amongst the rest of this mess of garbage for any focus to be given to female characters?

the one storyline outside of Via is Millie's surprise pregnancy, which is a storyline you pull out when you have nothing else for a female character to do and let's be real, is probably just gonna end up being about Moxxie again

Uh oh...you laid it all out in plain black and white, so it's even more apparent how miserably this show treats women! You know how much the fandom hates that!

#Anonymous #viv stuff #actual blog post

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mgu-h · 2 days ago

Note

(1/2) A primer on MF stream characters (except Lando) bc I clearly have too much time. If you want, I can also follow up at some point with thoughts/observations on how some dynamics have evolved over time.

Bankai: back in the days (2019/20), MF and LN were big into PUBG and COD. At the end of one of his streams, LN raided a random small PUBG streamer: Bankai. LN then introduced Bankai and Max. Nowadays Bankai really only plays Tarkov. Is an online friend, but Lando brought him as a guest for 2022 Hungary GP (which was Max’s birthday weekend, so Max and some of their other irl friends were also there). Bankai talked about how they went out partying and had a great time. Max also brought Bankai as a BRDC guest for Silverstone 2023 (Max and Lando also met up for what was supposed to be a lunch with Bankai during this time, only to realize that neither of the two had actually remembered to invite Bankai. This was a point of argument for the rest of 2023). Bankai also met up with Max and Matty at one of the P1 live shows in London at the end of 2023. Bankai went to Silverstone 2024 himself, but both Max and Matty had a bunch of filming obligations so they didn’t get to meet up this year.

Connor: Max mentioned just the other day that they’ve been friends for 9 years. Connor is part of Max and Lando’s tight group of irl besties who’ve known each other for ages. Connor did do karting as a kid, which is presumably how he met the others. He seems to be closer with Lando’s brother Oliver, who he’s the same age as and works with (racing simulator business), than Lando/Max. Was often in chat/occasionally in discord but rarely in the streams until he got into Tarkov in December. Before that, Connor only played iracing and COD.

Lorenzo: somehow related to indycar Franchitti, longtime fixture in chat and has started really playing Tarkov in the last few months making him a more regular character in the streams. Played GTA with Max/Matty and believe he occasionally played CSGO as well. Also does iRacing but very much does not want to do it on stream or with Max lest people perceive him lol. The whole “obsessed with Matty” thing is just a fun longstanding bit that he himself plays into. From what I can tell, just an online friend.

MattyP1: has been gaming with Lando since way back, pre-2019. Met Max through that. OG Bambi academy, with Bankai/Lando/Max. Played pretty much anything Max plays (and even got Max into off stream runescape) - particular highlight was GTA role-play squads with Matty, Max and Lorenzo where Matty and Max’s characters were low-key in love with each other. Hasn’t done much gaming in the last few months (with the exception of a brief tarkov appearance with the bambi squad in November) but does appear semi often in chat/discord. Also plays padel irl with Max/Connor/Tom.

(2/2) Jamie Auger: Matty’s irl bestie (not affiliated with any motorsport), joins for Tarkov or CSGO. Ed (eau_rouge_specialist): almost never actually on stream (with the exception of a Fortnite stream in early Jan), but almost always in chat violating MF. Another irl childhood friend who currently races. Most recently has had occasional rides in Nascar. Previously been in a bunch of series including indycar and indy nxt. He’s turning 30 soon, which he hates being reminded of so Max makes it a point to constantly tell chat. Oli: Lando’s older brother, only ever joins for iRacing. Theo: Max’s younger brother and the “self-trained” Official Barber of Max and Lando (and occasionally Tom). Recently joined for a few Tarkov games but usually just hangs out irl when Max streams from his parents’ house. Tom Bale: another irl childhood bestie from Ricky Flynn karting days. From what I can tell, does not game. Used to be a fixture in chat, but sadly no longer. Used to join irl a lot, including some great streams of him and Max literally just walking in a park like old men, until like 2023 (when, according to Max, he “got a job”). Nowadays occasionally seen/heard lurking behind Max playing on his racing sim. Jamie Maclaurin (VeloceJMac): Quadrant CEO, regularly plays COD usually with just Connor so not on stream. Only on stream the occasional times when Max ventures into COD. Most often seen in chat telling Max to work harder.

i don't think there's a socially acceptable way to communicate the exact level of gratitude i'm feeling right now without getting real weird about it but please know that i appreciate this So Much and if you ever want like any gifs made or even a short story man lmk and i will see what i can do bc this is the exact sort of stuff that i've been trying so hard to put together from clues in order to contextualize max and therefore understand him and write better fic (and also just not feel like an idiot during streams when people are talking and i have no idea what's going on!!!) but it's genuinely difficult bc most of these people are not truly public figures and i'm not actually that good at doing deep investigations into social media yk!!!!!!!!! ahhhhh

#and YEAH follow up at your leisure!!!!!!!!! i forgot to say that i'd love that i was so happy about what you already shared LMAO #max fewtrell #and associates #this is wonderful #thank you so much for taking the time to put it together!!!!!!!!!#nortrell #(adjacent)

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itsnesss · 18 hours ago

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 | axel kovacevik × fem!reader

summary |

warnings | spoilers part 3 season 6 !! violence & fighting, emotional conflict, toxic authority, fluff, romance, happy end

word count | 0.9 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of blows echoed throughout the dojo, a dry impact blending with Axel Kovacevic’s heavy breathing. He stood on the tatami, his chest rising and falling rapidly, sweat dripping down his forehead.

But his mind wasn’t there.

“Eyes on me!” roared Sensei Wolf.

Axel barely had time to turn before a brutal strike landed against his head. The sound resonated through the dojo, leaving behind a tense silence.

The pain was immediate, but Axel didn’t fall. He staggered slightly before regaining his balance.

“You’re not holding back out of empathy,” Wolf’s voice was sharp, filled with disdain.

Axel’s eyes narrowed.

He could feel the stares of his fellow students on him. Some whispered among themselves, others just watched with unreadable expressions.

It was Terry Silver who broke the silence.

“Or out of fear of Cobra Kai’s captain’s opinion.”

Axel felt a knot form in his throat.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at her?” Wolf clicked his tongue. “Cobra Kai’s captain? The same one who disgraced her dojo by refusing to fight?”

Axel felt something inside him burn with rage. Not because they were attacking him, but because they were attacking her.

Wolf took another step forward, his gaze piercing.

“Look me in the eyes. Does that girl mean more to you than victory?”

The entire dojo fell silent.

Axel felt like the world had stopped.

He thought about what he was supposed to say.

What they wanted to hear.

But his mind betrayed him.

He didn’t see the tatami. He didn’t see the Sekai Taikai medal.

He saw your smile.

Your determined gaze.

The way you had always been there, even when he didn’t deserve it.

There was no room for doubt.

“Yes,” he said firmly.

The silence that followed was absolute.

Wolf blinked, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Terry Silver tilted his head with a dangerous smile.

“Then you’ve already lost,” Wolf spat, his voice dripping with disdain.

Axel let out a dry laugh.

“You think so?” His eyes shone with a spark of defiance. “No, Sensei. For the first time, I’m winning.”

The entire dojo held its breath.

Wolf took a step forward, his expression hardening.

“Winning?” His tone was venomous. “You’re throwing everything away for a mere distraction. For a weakness.”

Axel clenched his jaw.

“Weakness?” He let out a sarcastic laugh. “Is that what you think? That she’s a weakness?”

Wolf didn’t blink.

“Emotions make you soft.”

Axel shook his head.

“No. Fear makes people soft. The fear of losing. The fear of facing the truth.”

He stepped closer to his sensei, no hesitation in his stance.

“But I’m not afraid anymore.”

The entire dojo held its breath.

Wolf glared at him.

“If you walk out of here, Kovacevic, don’t come back.”

Axel didn’t hesitate.

He turned on his heel and walked toward the exit.

Before crossing the door, he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“I don’t need Iron Dragons to be strong.”

And with that, he left.

The day had been long. Longer than you wanted to admit. You had stayed home, away from the dojo, away from expectations and the weight you carried after everything that had happened.

You didn’t want to think about Axel.

But you did.

Wondering if, for some reason, you were in his thoughts as much as he was in yours.

You sighed and shook your head.

You didn’t want to think about him.

But you did anyway.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before someone knocked on the door.

You frowned. It was late. Too late for unexpected visits.

Cautiously, you approached and opened the door.

And there he was.

His hair was still damp, his clothes bore traces of training. But his eyes—that was what made you hold your breath.

There was something different in them. Something that made your heart beat faster.

“Axel… what are you doing here?”

Your voice was softer than you intended.

He exhaled, as if he had been holding his breath the entire way to your house.

“I’m finally free.”

You blinked.

“Free from what?”

Axel smiled, but it wasn’t his usual arrogant smile.

“Free from Iron Dragons. Free from my sensei. Free from their rules. Free to choose what I really want.”

Your pulse quickened.

“And what is it that you really want?”

He didn’t hesitate for even a second.

“You.”

The air caught in your throat.

Axel never hesitated when he spoke, but this time… this time was different.

Because it wasn’t arrogance. It wasn’t a joke.

It was the truth.

And then, in a single movement, he kissed you.

It was a desperate kiss, intense, as if he had been holding it inside him for too long.

And maybe you had too.

Because the moment you realized what was happening, your hands clung to his hoodie, pulling him closer.

You felt his ragged breath against your lips, the frantic beat of his heart against your chest.

When you finally pulled away, he didn’t move far.

Your foreheads remained almost touching, your breaths mingling.

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured, still breathless.

Axel smiled.

“Maybe. But I’m an idiot who finally knows what he wants.”

You looked at him for a long moment before sighing and gently tugging on his hoodie, pulling him inside.

#cobra kai #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai series #cobra kai season 6 #cobra kai x you #cobra kai s6 #axel kovacevic x reader #axel kovacevic #axel kovacevik cobra kai

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lostintheuniverseslies · 9 hours ago

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I've been reading a lot of whump!Buck fics and it's been raining here so this came to mind. Hope you enjoy!

Buck is lying on the ground in the rain, staring up at a sky that’s somehow too bright for such a gloomy day. His mind scrambles to catch up. Why is he on the ground? Why does his body feel like it doesn’t belong to him? His breath rattles in his chest, uneven and wet, and though he knows something bad happened, he can’t quite piece it together.

Then, pain crashes into him like fire. It floods every inch of his body, crushing, suffocating. His chest screams with every shallow breath, his ribs aching as if they’re caving in.

Somewhere close, someone is talking—frantic, desperate—but not to him. No, they’re talking to someone else. A dispatcher, probably. 9-1-1.

He’s been here before. Close to death too many times to count. But this time? This time feels different. Final.

He’s accomplished almost everything he wanted to in life. His sister is happy, married to an amazing man, and building the family she always dreamed of. And Buck? He found the love of his life. He just wishes he could have spent forever with them.

But that’s life, he supposes.

He has no regrets.

That thought should scare him. It doesn’t.

A strange, eerie peace settles over him, maybe because the pain is fading. Or maybe because everything—the rain, the voices, the world—feels like it’s happening miles away.

His breaths come slower, weaker. Keeping his eyes open is a battle he’s losing. And deep down, he knows. This is it. He’s lived a good life. He can let go, knowing the people he loves will be okay. They’ll grieve, they’ll hurt, but they’ll get through it.

All except maybe one.

Even though they broke up, Buck knows the news of his death will tear Tommy apart. And the thought of him grieving alone is the one thing that makes this unbearable.

With the last dredges of his strength, he fumbles for his phone. His fingers feel sluggish, barely responsive, but muscle memory guides him.

One number.

The one he’s resisted calling, the one he swore he’d never dial again.

It rings.

And rings.

And rings—until the voicemail picks up.

“Tommy,” Buck rasps.

His voice is hoarse, strained, barely more than a whisper. The wheeze in his breath is unmistakable. Tommy will hear it. He’ll know.

“Don’t shut them out again, okay?”

Buck swallows against the burn in his throat. His chest is so tight. He blinks, and suddenly there are tears in his eyes. Not for himself. For Tommy. For the image of him pushing everyone away, hurting alone.

“You’re allowed to let them be there for you. Please–Please let them be there for you.”

The wheezing worsens. Buck isn’t sure how much longer he has. He forces out the words that matter most.

“I love you.” A shaky breath. “I hope you know that. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

His lips twitch, not quite a smile, as his mind supplies an image of Tommy: kind, gentle, sharp-tongued, funny, sassy. So damn easy to love.

“You deserve to be loved.” His voice cracks. “I really hope you find the person you’re meant to spend your life with. No matter what you think, I’m grateful. So grateful. That you were my first, and my last.”

He wants to say more. One more ‘I love you.’ One more goodbye.

But his fingers are numb. His grip slackens. He’s pretty sure the phone slips from his hand, but he doesn’t hear it hit the ground.

He doesn’t fight it anymore.

He said everything he needed to say.

So Buck, feeling the most peace he’s ever known, closes his eyes—hoping Tommy and his family will be okay.

he's not dead I PROMISE. I'm considering writing a Tommy POV of when he checks his voicemail 🤷‍♀️

#bucktommy #drabble #ficlet #Tommy Kinard #Evan Buckley

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crow-quilll · 2 days ago

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Hello :) i really like ur writing style and wanted to know your writing tips!

Like, how do you get a clean and nice pace? Or how to write intense scenes? Or what words to choose? Etc

I thank you graciously for sharing your works 🙏🙏

HELLO SLEEPY!! I meant to respond to this way earlier but stuff got in the way -- however I have arrived!!

Let's dig in:

In terms of pacing, it is always helpful to have a clear outline of every event that will happen - I write all of mine in a notes app, write down each key event and how the chapter will progress. I think that way I get a good idea of what sections should be longer, which are more important and need more detail, and which should be intentionally fast to amp up pressure. Ofc it depends on what you're writing! I've always written these sorts of angsty hurt/comfort fics, so I've just had a lot of practice with them. I can assure you that I'd struggle with a slow pace slice-of-life au in any fandom.

Writing intense scenes mostly comes with practice, I've had 10 long years of experience haha! But there are some things that I've learned to do for those scenes:

Positioning is important, set it up early. You want your readers to know exactly where your characters are so they aren't confused which will slow down how they read the scene. You want them following the speed of the scene you've set.

Shortening your sentences and descriptions will make your scene more intense because your reader feels like they are struggling to keep up with it. It also makes them predict a breaking point - a point in the sentence structure where it reaches a limit and either stops completely or slows back down. So they hang on to every word, waiting for that drop.

Metaphors and imagery are great for describing emotional or physical pain - but I try not to overdo it, especially in "Nobody's Soldier" when those scenes are pretty lengthy. I try to keep those scenes feeling intense and quick because the stakes are supposed to feel high for Gi-hun - and by extension, for the readers.

As for word choice, that really depends on your style and where you find your inspiration from! Like I said, I've primarily written hurt/comfort and whump fics, so my style developed to be very physical: I always think about the facial expressions of the characters, the way their body reacts to stimuli, where they are standing and how they stand, etc. That comes from working on how to describe reactions to pain, and they always tell you to show it instead of telling it: "he winced/he flinched" rather than "it hurt him".

A lot of my style just comes from the things I take inspiration from. Funnily enough, I don't read fics or books for fun because I read so much for university in my history/english program. So I find my inspiration in the historical sources and literature I read. I think a good example I can give is from a poem by Wilfred Owen, an English poet who fought in WWI, called Dulce et Decorum est, which uses very visceral language (ie. "His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;/ If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood/ Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs..."). I'm sure you can some similarity between his descriptions and my own -- albeit, mine are far less sophisticated than his. But I still try to emulate how grotesquely he describes the human body, as well as the sharp rhythm of certain lines like "sick of sin." ANYWAYS thats enough university talk that i'm sure sounds boring haha. I also find inspiration in video games, in TV shows, in everything. The world around us is composed of sentences waiting to be written, you just have to look for them and put pen to paper :))

One last tip I can give is to just write what you enjoy! I know ao3 can be disheartening if your work doesn't get a lot of love, but honestly as long as you are having fun, it is well worth it. I have written for dead fandoms in the past - and in fact, I have more often written for dead fandoms than for popular ones. I'm somehow always late to the party, except this time ofc with Squid Game.

Anyways, I think that is all I have for now!! If you have any further questions, please ask away. I'm so flattered to have been asked about something like this, thank you to coming for me and reading what I write <3 <3

#whump fic #nobody's soldier fic #whump

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marcelloandtyler · 3 days ago

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Allegra nodded. "Let's clean," she suggested. "Can't mess that up too much and we'll at least have a cleaner space if nothing else."

She finished her coffee and brought their mugs to the dishwasher, putting them in. They decided to start in Levi and Marcello's space, upstairs to not disturb Nico. He continued to sleep for a while longer as they each took a bathroom and dusted the shelves and scrubbed the showers, vanities, and toilets. When Nico woke, he made himself something to eat.

Allegra didn't want to say anything, but it was getting a lot later than she expected. If Marcello's phone was still dead, she supposed that made sense. He'd need to get his car cleared off and then it might be a bit of a drive, especially if things were slowed any due to the storm.

____

About thirty minutes into his drive, Marcello's phone lit up on the passengers seat as enough charge had come through on his painfully slow charging device. He was still very spaced, gripping the wheel with two hands as he drove, but he reached over for it. He glanced at it quickly, seeing missed texts and calls, but he didn't want to stop since he was nervous enough while driving during a weed hangover on roads that were mostly clear but still a bit icy.

”Sure, I suppose I should have something on my stomach other than coffee,” Levi said, pushing his fingers through his hair. He was exhausted. He could feel it in every bone in his body, but he tried not to complain or let it show too much. He knew they were likely in similar boats.

He nodded his head, taking in a deep breath. “That’s good,” he murmured, scrubbing at one of his eyes. He felt like he was just in this suspended state, waiting to hear something from Marcello or to see him. He hated it. The later and lighter it got the more anxious he could feel himself getting.

He huffed out a breath. “I’m not really the baking sort. Suppose I could see if something needs to be done though. Something simple,” he murmured, recognizing that anything too complicated might cause him to have issues.

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book-of-baba-fett · 2 days ago

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Clone x OC Week: Day 1 - Intro/First Meeting

Captain Rex x Jedi!OC Talia Riva - from the fic Illicit Affairs

Note: So I had seen stuff for clone x oc week a bit ago, but life has been insane so I forgot about it until I saw a lot of stuff being shared yesterday and I wanted to participate but I had nothing for the Introduction/First Meeting prompt because I technically wrote Rex and Talia meeting already in IA but then the idea slammed into me "what if I wrote the meeting from Talia's perspective" and then BOOM months of writers block disappeared. This isn't beta'd and obviously all the dialogue was previously used, but it was fun to peer into Talia's head a little bit. Also special shoutout to the anon who sent me a message yesterday saying they missed Rex an Talia; this is for you. Thanks @clonexocweek for hosting an event for a community that truly does not get enough love.

Rating: This scene is just mature for some language and themes, but the overall fic is explicit 18+ !

Word Count: 2.3k

Talia knew how to blend in a crowd – much of her training had been spent teaching her how to get lost amongst people, make herself unnoticeable, or even manipulate the Force so she would be overlooked when she needed to be. It was a skill of hers she was confidant in enough to say she was good at it, which is why it was frustrating that she couldn’t shake this one drunk businessman.

Talia smiled up at the man pleasantly, masking the way she wanted to scowl at the obvious scent of liquor on his breath. She would nod and make agreeing sounds, while she tried to drown out whatever he was saying to her. She wasn’t even sure how he had cornered her in the first place, if he weren’t so drunk she would have assumed he had some special training of his own, but Talia supposed it was just the delusional persistence only an entitled man could posess. She had been working the perimeter of the ballroom in Naboo’s Royal Palace, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary to try and see if the threat posed that evening was real or just false information. Her disguise as one of the Queen’s Handmaidens had been her idea with the support of the Council; the Republic presence was strong for the gala, and Anakin and Ahsoka were already out in the open as Jedi. If they wanted a chance to uncover any hazards to the evening, a bit of stealth was better than a show of strength. Just one of the methods Anakin and Talia frequently disagreed on, which was why he wasn’t aware of her attendance that evening. Perhaps it was her preoccupation with avoiding her fellow Jedi Knight that first allowed the man, whose name she purposely ignored, to corner her in the first place.

She had tried to excuse herself, citing some vague excuse of business but his persistence followed her into the hall, and Talia’s limited experience with men meant that she was running out of ideas on how to shake this guy while also focusing on her job. And she felt like she was about to lose all her sense of decorum if she had to listen to him talk about his starship modifications for a moment longer.

“Sounds fascinating, I’m sure you must be quite the handyman,” Talia cut the man off from his ramblings, hoping he would catch the sarcasm in her tone and finally catch the damn hint that she wasn’t interested. He was leaning on the wall beside her while looking down at her, and she was grateful in that moment that the dress she was wearing had such a high neck.

“Aww come on, I’ve been trying to picture what you look like without that dress on, and I think it would look much better on the floor of my –,” patience was a virtue for Jedi, but that was a skill Talia had much room to work on, which held true as she couldn’t hold her temper in and slapped the guy before he could finish his sentance. Perhaps it was a bit of an extreme reaction, but when the man just shook it off and smirked back down at her she was ready to swing again before she heard a clone’s voice calling down the hallway.

“Excuse me, miss; The Queen was requesting you,” Talia glanced to see a clone trooper walking down the hall; by his pauldron and kama she could guess he was an officer of some sort and Talia couldn’t ignore how perfect his timing was to be her literal knight in shining armor.

“Thank you, trooper. Could you escort me to her? It’s so crowded and I don’t want to keep Her Majesty waiting.” She turned back to the man, not at all trying to hide the relied and pleasure from her tone. “Apologies, sir, this conversation was truly… stimulating.”

She followed the clone down the corridor, and once they were far enough away she relaxed her shoulders and let out a sigh, “Maker, thank you. I’ve been trying to get rid of the slimo for the past half hour. I figured it wasn’t exactly appropriate for a representative of the Queen to deck one of the largest potential donors to her event, but as you could tell I lost that internal battle.”

“Not a problem, ma’am. All part of the job” The clone was still wearing his helmet bearing a Mandalorian design, jaig eyes if she remembered correctly, so she couldn’t see his expression but she could feel the smirk in his voice.

“I heard the troopers of the 501st were known for their quick thinking and heroics,” Talai started, for some reason unable to stop herself from rambling as the clone and her walked together. “Nice idea saying the Queen was summoning me, that’s the only thing he couldn’t have argued with.“

“How do you know I wasn’t telling the truth?”

“The Queen would send one of the other handmaidens, not a clone trooper.” She smiled up at him, searching for the eyes behind the vizor. “What’s your name?”

“Rex, ma’am.”

“Oh, so I have the pleasure of being rescued by the famous Captain Rex then?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far-”

“About the rescue or the famous part?” OK maybe it was cruel to tease the officer on duty a bit, but Talia was enjoying her fun the one time a clone didn’t refer to her as ‘commander’ or now ‘general’ which she was still adjusting to. She was nineteen, dressed up in a gown on a night out at a fancy gala with a presumably handsome (considering what the clones looked like) man at her side; it felt like a touch of normalcy, a life she never would have so why not have a little fun and tease a little? And it seemed like she was slightly flustering the clone, as she could sense him fumbling for his words for a moment before he spoke again.

“I think he’ll have a mark from that backhand for a week. We could use fighters like you on the field with us.” Talia couldn’t help but chuckle at that slightly, if only he knew.

“Well, I don’t know about that. The truth is I’m not exactly great at these types of social engagements. I came to the hallway for some peace and quiet when Mr. Charm first cornered me. If only you had found me first,” ok her rambling had gone too far, some light teasing that ventured close to flirting was one thing, but she was definitely pushing her luck if she kept it up. “What I mean is, I owe you one, Captain.”

Talia was grateful that they finally arrived back at the ballroom, so she could be saved by the social ineptidude that had suddenly hit her. The gala was still in full swing, the voices and music bounced off the opulent marble walls. One could almost forget there was a war going on, had there not been troops posted at every entrance. The captain seemed to share her sentiments, as he surveyed the room shifting his weight between his feet.

“You know, you can stay and enjoy the party a little bit, I’m sure the food here is much better than your ration bars,” Talia suggested, knowing that the nutritional protein offered to troops was far from fine cuisine. Plus, if Rex serve dunder Anakin she knew the soldier deserved a break. “I’m sure the Republic won’t fall if you relax a little.”

“Hey Rex, anything going on?” Talia mentally swore as she heard Anakin’s voice; it was way too early for her cover to be blown. She couldn’t risk saying a goodbye, she slipped away from Rex’s side before Anakin could even notice her and disappeared into the crowd. She was on the other side of the room, behind a pillar when she finally glanced back to see Rex glancing around the room as Anakin teased him about something. Her moment of fun was good while it lasted, a break from work to enjoy herself a little but she had to get back to work and she had a feeling her true identity was going to be revealed before the night was over.

Talia went back to the shadows after that, floating around the halls of the palace and watching over the ballroom as she felt necessary; perhaps the Republic’s caution wasn’t need and this was going to be just a Gala because as the night passed there were no threats to be found. She was standing against a wall, conveniently hidden by some decorative floral arrangement as she sipped on a glass of champagne when the Captain caught her eye again. She could tell her felt out of place, and she could feel the surge of panic that went through him as Representative Binks called his name. Talia set her glass aside, knowing it was her chance to return the Captain’s favor.

“Sorry to steal you away, Captain, but there’s some security info I think we should go over She steered Rex through the crowd and away from Jar Jar, who had already slammed into a waiter, causing glasses of champagne to shatter and conceal Rex’ escape.

“Well, I guess we’re even now.” The relief and gratitude were palpable on Rex’s voice,

“Well, I wouldn’t be much of a lady if I didn’t return the favor,” Talia quipped, smirking up at him. “Besides, I haven’t had the pleasure of getting to know Representative Binks, but from what I understand he can be a bit – uh – overenthusiastic.”

Rex chuckled at that as they made their way into a long corridor. “That’s putting it mildly. He was told by Senator Amidala that he should receive combat training and he’s got it stuck in his head that I’m the one who should do it. I’m a good trainer, but I’m not a miracle worker. But I would gladly take his company over your friend from earlier.”

“Oh, Mr. ‘Invites-women-to-his-spaceship-so-it’s-harder-for-them-to-get-away’?” She cocked a brow at Rex as she leaned against the wall beside her. “Yeah, I don’t think he was a winner by any standard.”

“Are you sure?” Rex asked, mirroring her movement, and leaning on the wall across from her. “I think he almost won you over with the talk of his ‘personal modifications.’”

“Oh yes, of course. I was totally swooning over him; it was really rude of you to interrupt us.”. Her cheeks felt hot from how much she was smirking and trying to control her urge to laugh, she didn’t need to come off as a schoolgirl all because a man was talking to her but something about his charm was so effortless.

Rex motioned behind his shoulder in the direction of the ballroom, a grin tinting his voice. “I’m sure I can go find him again for you. I’d hate to think I ruined your night.”

Talia shook her head and softly smiled at him, “Far from it, Captain, you’re making this night a lot more interesting. Tell me, do you often go around parties rescuing damsels from terrible conversations with intoxicated men?”

“Only if they’re pretty blondes in black dresses.” Oh. Well, that was not as forward as she thought Rex would go, but Talia would be lying to herself if she didn’t feel her stomach twist at the compliment. She hoped her face wasn’t flushed completely red as she smirked back at him.

"Well, I guess I’m lucky that I fit into that box tonight, Captain,” she chuckled. Rex’s comm went off, making him mentally curse as he chided himself for getting so distracted on the job.

“Rex, it’s Jesse. Sid and Oak didn’t report in for their check-ins. Some of our guys have been having comm issues so it might be nothing but wanted to let you know.”

Talia was still new to being a Jedi Knight, but she had been training on the field long enough that she should have known just because a night seemed calm and that there was no obvious threat, didn’t mean there would be no threat. She had much to learn still, that was abundantly clear as she stood on the balcony after the fight with Ventress. Her gown had torn, which was a shame, but otherwise she was unharmed just exhausted with the threat of a migraine on the way with how much Anakin was going to annoy her about this. Luckily, he seemed distracted with checking in on how Senator Amidala was doing so for the moment it seemed she was reprieved. Rex was along the wall, being tended to by a medic so Talia took her moment to address her deceit now that her identity had been revealed.

“I do owe you an apology, Captain, for not being completely honest about who I am,” she said, awkwardly smiling to try and diffuse some of the tension she felt.

“Nothing to worry about mis—uh, Sir.” Rex insisted as his eyes met hers. Now that he was out of his helmet, her earlier presumptions proved correct and he was handsome. The blond hair was a surprise, she wondered if it was natural or if he bleached it. “I owe my apologies as well. I’m sorry if anything I did was out of line or – “

Talia laughed, raising her hands reassuringly at him. She couldn’t say what she was really feeling; that it was nice to feel like a normal girl at a party and having an attractive man call her pretty, but she felt that would cross all sort of appropriate boundaries.

“No, nothing at all; you made a boring party a lot more exciting.” She smiled at him and held out her hand to him. He accepted the handshake and returned a light smile as she formally introduced herself. “It was nice to finally meet the famous Captain Rex.”

taglist: @djarrex @justanothersadperson93 @paige6768 @saltywintersoldat @clonecyare @dinner-djarin @whore4rex @swlover2187 @collectoroffics @pinkiemme @twistedstitcher27 @frietiemeloen @a-c-lee @ashotofspotchka @galacticgraffiti @itsagrimm @rexandechosandwich @immortalhdx @queen--kenobi @stankferrik @aquaamethyst96 @mavendeb @alwayssnivellus @the-rain-on-kamino @staryskyforever @amyroswell @lucyysthings @manqoz @ilikemymendarkandfictional @punkpirate82 @paperplanes221 @saturnsokas @starstofillmydream @wild-karrde @purgetrooperfox @burningfieldof-clover @seriowan @samspenandsword @sunshinesdaydream @ariadnes-red-thread @babygirlrex0504 @arctrooper69 @cw80831 @dhawerdaverd

#captain rex x oc #clonexocweek #clone x oc #ia fanfic #illicit affairs fanfic #captain rex fanfiction #captain rex fanfic #oc fanfiction

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