#was supposed to be longer at first but i've decided nothing could follow up the gay disbelief in the last gif

[sherrymagic]

You can give me my stuff back now.

Yin Anan as JACK and War Wanarat as JOKER JACK & JOKER | EP. 3

[jetii]

Home is a Place on Coruscant

Pairing: Captain Rex x fem!Reader

Words: 10,705

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, discussion of grief/death, some description of blood/injuries, mutual pining, friends to lovers, smut, dirty talk, a little brat taming, oral sex (m and f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism but not really

Summary: You've always been there for Rex, and when he shows up at your door in the middle of the night after a devastating mission, you do what you do best: take care of him.

A/N: The start of this fic has been sitting in my notes app since the TCW season finale many moons ago, and it wasn't until I read this drabble by @djarrex that I felt compelled to actually finish it. Rex is my fav and he deserves to be taken care of.

It's been about a decade since I've published a fic and about a decade since I've been active on tumblr, so I decided to start from scratch with this blog. Feedback is very much appreciated! I have a few more drafts in the works for Echo, Howzer, Kix, Tech, and Hunter that I'm planning to publish depending on the reception to this one.

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Rain on Coruscant was rare. But when it came, it came in torrents, and it came all at once.

In the early hours of morning, while the planet was still sleeping, the sky opened up and let loose a downpour that threatened to flood the lower levels. It was so heavy, it even drowned out the traffic noise coming from the speeders that were still flying over the city at the early hour. The noise was soothing, almost like a lullaby, and the sound of it woke you.

You were used to this sound. You were used to it, because you were used to not being able to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. It was one of the many things about living in the Jewel of the Core Worlds that was taking you longer than you would have liked to adjust to.

The traffic noise, the bustle, the crowds—it all made your homeworld of Rion seem very far away. You could never hear anything over the speeder traffic here, and you likely would've gone mad long ago if not for the trickling of the fountain you kept in the main room. It had been your mother's. You were glad it had come with you when you moved.

The rain was heavy enough that you could hear it inside the apartment, a pleasant hum against the transparisteel. You sat in the window seat, arms folded around your knees, watching the rain fall. The view from your window was not the best in the Galactic City, but it was still quite good, and at night it was beautiful, all the lights of the skyscrapers blurring together in the rain.

The rain would be good for the plants.

You had a garden, a modest one. Some of the plants were native to your world. A few were native to Coruscant. Most were from other worlds. They were your pride and joy. Caring for them had given you something to do when you were adjusting to your new life here. You watered and pruned and tended to them all, and in the spring you were rewarded for your efforts.

Rex had been baffled, at first, by the sight of you out in the courtyard behind the complex, on your knees in the dirt, digging and weeding. It was a little piece of nature on a planet that didn't have much, and Rex was amazed that someone could take so much joy in something so… natural. It was nothing like what he'd been raised to appreciate, which was a good vantage point, a well-maintained blaster, and a plan.

When he'd told you as much, you had invited him to kneel down beside you, and, hesitantly, he'd done so. You handed him a spade and pointed to a patch of soil.

"See that little green leaf poking up?" you asked, and Rex followed your gaze. "See it?"

"I see it."

"Plant the spade right under it. When you pull it up, the root will come with it."

"Like this?" Rex had pulled the spade up, and a plant had come with it. He examined it, then tossed it aside, into the compost.

"That's perfect. That's just how you're supposed to do it. See, you're a natural."

Rex smiled, pleased with the praise. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now, let's get the rest of these weeds."

You'd worked in the garden until the sun was setting. Your hands had been dirty, and you had been smiling, and Rex had thought you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He would probably never tell you as much. He'd been trying to think of ways to tell you, and nothing seemed good enough. There was nothing good enough for you. So instead he told you about the missions he went on. And you listened. You always listened.

You wondered if Rex had heard the rain start. You wondered if it was keeping him awake, too. You wanted him to sleep. He was always so tired, and the last thing you wanted was for him to be exhausted when he came home from his mission.

If he came home.

It was an irrational thought. The missions were dangerous, yes, but the 501st had some of the best soldiers in the galaxy. And Rex was a good captain. A good leader.

But there was always the possibility. The risk.

You were intimately acquainted with the feeling of waiting for someone, and the way it tore you apart. It was a risk, being this close to Rex and the other clones of the 501st. It was a risk, feeling the way you did.

It was a risk, but you did anyway.

You look out at the rain, and the speeders that still flew through it. You wonder how they could fly through the storm, and not be afraid.

You're just about to turn away from the window when a noise behind you makes you jump. There, underneath the sound of the rain battering against the transparisteel, the sound of a knock at your door. You almost don’t think it is real, that it's simply a part of the soundscape of the rainy morning, but it comes again, three short raps.

You slide out of bed, fumbling to grab the clothes you tossed on the floor the night before. You don't bother to put on pants, but pull a long shirt over your head and tiptoe to the door, peering through the peephole.

The rain is heavier now, and the clouds are dark, almost black. The white shape in the hall is familiar, though, and it makes your heart race. You open the door, filling the small entryway with the scent of fresh rainwater and humidity.

"Rex," you say. "What are you doing here?”

He’s stoic, still and silent under your gaze, but you can see the tremble in his hands at his sides. The downpour seems to have washed the majority of dirt and debris from his armor, but bits of red still run through the cracks. An hour ago, he was likely covered with whatever the substance was — Umbaran dust or something more sinister — but the rain did well enough to wash it off.

He must’ve walked here, you realize, eyes widening. Your bottom lip pulls to worry between your teeth as you notice the new dents and marks on him. Carbon scoring on his shoulder plate, a tear in his kama, and what seems to be a blaster hole in his chest plate.

"I… I don’t know," he says after a moment. His voice is quiet, rough through the modulation of his helmet. It's as if the words are being dragged up from his lungs.

"I shouldn’t have. I… I should have called. I just… I had to see you.”

The words hang between you, suspended like the raindrops in the air. You feel tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. You can't believe he's here. He's here, and he's alive. You'd known he would be, but to see him with your own eyes, to have him in front of you, fills you with an immense sense of relief.

But something is clearly wrong. He's not saying what's bothering him, and you're almost too afraid to ask.

“Rex, what happened?”

You reach for him, only to have your hand meet nothing but humid air as he pulls back.

“It’s late, sorry for disturbing you—“

He turns to go, and this time you’re faster. Your hand encloses around his wrist and pulls him to a stop before he can take another step.

“Wait, Rex— please, just… stay. Just for a moment. Come in, you're getting soaked."

He lets out a slow breath and then, after a moment, he jerks a stiff nod. He allows you to drag him inside your apartment and, as the door slides shut behind him, he lifts his hands to the seal of his helmet. You watch him closely as he pulls it free and reveals the face beneath.

There are smudges of grime on his golden skin, and a deep furrow has formed between his eyebrows. He looks haunted, as if the shadows from the battlefield have followed him home. You want to smooth that line out with your thumb, but you aren’t sure he will let you.

You don't ask if you can touch him, but he notices the way your fingers twitch, and he knows you well enough to know that you're thinking about it.

"It's fine," he murmurs. He's never said no to you. "Go ahead."

He doesn't say please, and that hurts a little, but you're not surprised. Rex has been holding you at arm's length ever since he kissed you a few months back, and you know why. You just wish you knew how to help him.

So, you touch him. You brush your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the grime. You know that he doesn't need to be cleaned, but the motions are soothing. Your gentle touch is a balm, and you can feel his tension ease ever so slightly as you brush your fingers over his face.

"What happened?" you ask again, voice barely above a whisper.

"A lot." He lets out a slow breath and leans a little into your touch. He's exhausted, and he's relieved to see you, and the two warring emotions are pulling him in different directions. Rex opens his mouth to say more, but the words die on his tongue. He shakes his head, unable to continue, and closes his eyes.

"Come sit down."

You take him by the hand and lead him over to the couch. You sit first, and he follows suit, sitting a respectable distance from you. The distance doesn't seem right. When you'd met him, Rex had been so full of confidence, even when he'd been a little bit awkward, a little bit unsure. But the war had changed him. He was still the same man, still confident and brave and intelligent, but the weight of responsibility had settled on his shoulders, and the burden was crushing him.

You want to tell him it's going to be okay. You want to say it, but the words sound hollow in your mind.

You shift, moving closer, and Rex moves, too. The distance between you shrinks, and the tension eases. You don’t much care that he’s wearing armor, or that the rainwater is leaving damp spots on the upholstery.

Rex reaches for you, and his hands tremble. His gloves are damp, and his armor is cold, and the chill sends a shiver up your spine when he touches your knee. His eyes are distant, and he doesn't quite meet yours, and his expression is so, so sad.

“Hardcase is gone,” he closes his eyes to avoid seeing the look on your face. You can’t help but gasp at the admission, and a soft sob slips past your lips.

You had met Hardcase once, very briefly. He had been charming and charismatic and kind, if a little wild, and you had liked him immediately. He had flirted with you, and Rex had rolled his eyes and tried to hide a smile behind his cup. Hardcase had been fun, and loud, and a little bit reckless.

You had not known him as well as some of the others on his squad, but the pain in Rex's eyes, the grief in his voice, was enough to make it hurt.

"Oh, Rex, I'm so sorry," you murmur.

Rex nods, and his jaw tightens. You can tell that he's trying not to cry, and you can't imagine how hard it must be, to carry such a heavy weight all by himself.

When he speaks again, your blood runs cold.

“We were betrayed. One of our own— one of the Jedi, he—" his breath hitches. “Oz, Ringo — Dozens of them, my brothers. They’re all gone.

"Betrayed?"

You feel like the bottom has dropped out from beneath you.

You knew the war was dangerous, and that Rex's job was dangerous, but the idea that it could go wrong in such a fundamental way?

The Jedi had always seemed so wise, and so strong, and so just. It had always seemed like there was nothing they couldn't do. To know that one of them could betray their men — could betray the Republic, and the innocent people of the galaxy — was too terrible to contemplate.

Your hand finds his cheek again, and this time, his eyes find yours.

They're shining, but his tears don't fall. He's a soldier, and he knows better than to show weakness, even here. You wish he would let himself break. You wish he would let you hold him, and let his tears fall, and let you help him put the pieces back together.

"Rex," you murmur, "I'm so, so sorry."

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and your thumb wipes away some of the wetness that has gathered there.

He pulls back for a moment, and you think he’s pulling away completely before he leans closer. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you tight to him as he buries his head in your shoulder. You immediately return the embrace, one arm over his shoulders while your other hand lifts to hold the back of his head.

You’re not sure how long they stay like that or how many tears are shed between you. After some time, he begins to speak, and you listen while running a soothing hand over his head, trying desperately to keep from sobbing outright as he tells you about the traitorous Jedi Pong Krell.

It’s by far the greatest atrocity you’ve ever heard, and to know that Rex has to put his helmet back on and get back to work in a matter of days makes you sick to your stomach.

He doesn’t deserve this, you think as you pull him into another embrace. None of them do.

Something about the motion causes him to wince, and you immediately release him to grab hold of both his shoulders.

“Are you hurt?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

His hesitation is answer enough, and you can feel a wave of anger rise in your chest. How could they let him come back, in the state that he's in? How could they ask this of him, after all he's already done?

“I’m fine, cyare. Armor took most of it.”

If it weren’t for the way he avoided your gaze, you’d believe him, but instead you just feel yourself grow more upset. “What did Kix say?”

“Uh, he didn’t—“

“Rex, you were shot, and you didn’t think to get medical attention?”

His expression darkens, and you can see him withdrawing again. His shoulders pull back, and he pulls his chin up, and the distance between you grows again.

“I didn’t think much of anything, to be honest.” He mutters. It breaks your heart, but it also throws more coals on the anger burning inside of you. Not anger at him, you know, even though you can’t help but let out a sigh of exasperation. “I’ll be alright.”

“Like hell you will be,” you bite out before taking a step back to help him stand. “C’mon. Let’s get you patched up.”

You're angry. You're so, so angry. How could he let himself get hurt? How could he come here and not tell you about it? How could they send him home, to you, after all he's been through, knowing that he was injured?

But there's nothing you can do about any of that now, and being angry at him isn't going to help.

“You don’t have to—“ He protests through words only, allowing you to drag him through the living room and into the refresher.

“Yes, I do.” You shut him down quickly as you flick the light on and turn to rummage underneath your sink.

He’s still standing in the center of the room when you stand back up to full height, looking uncomfortable at your fussing. It’s not the first time you’ve had to patch him up, but so far it’s just been cuts and bruises. It’s unknown territory for you both, and he holds himself like he’s waiting for you to give up and shoo him out.

Your hands find his shoulders, and you gently push him down to sit at the edge of your bathtub. He’s pliant in your hold, but he meets your eyes with the worried pinch between his brows he gets whenever he thinks he’s upset you.

“Rex, let me take care of you,” you plead softly, and the furrow deepens.

He can hear the way your voice breaks. He can see the worry in your eyes. You're scared, and he hates that he's done that to you.

He should have known better. He should have taken a moment, to collect himself, before coming to see you. He shouldn't have let his emotions overwhelm him. He should have kept it together.

You were always there for him, and you listened, and he could tell you anything. He should have told you that he was okay. That would have been the responsible thing to do.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

And now, he can't seem to do the one thing you ask him.

But, after a moment, Rex relaxes. He’s never been able to say no to you before, and it is no different now. His shoulders slump a little, and the furrow smoothes, and you can't help but think that his face looks much nicer like this. You wish he wouldn't be so hard on himself.

"Okay," he murmurs.

It's all the encouragement you need. You lift his hand, cradling it gently, and begin to remove his gloves and armor piece by piece. You set the pieces aside, careful to keep them in order, and you know he appreciates that. It's a little thing, but it helps. You make a note to clean it for him before he leaves, the sight of the red smeared across its surface churning your stomach.

It's quiet between the two of you. The only sounds in the room are the rain and the gentle clink of plastoid against the floor as the last piece is removed.

You're grateful for the silence, though. You're not sure what you would say, and you know that he needs this, needs the moment to breathe.

"Where does it hurt?" You ask.

He hesitates. There's a lot of pain, all over his body. But you can't do anything about the pain that aches in his bones, or the ache in his chest. He doesn't know how to tell you about that.

"Chest," he finally admits. "Took a hit in the vest. Knocked the wind outta me."

That was an understatement, but you didn't need to know that. He could barely breathe, when it had happened, but the rest of his brothers needed him, and he didn't have the time to worry about his own injuries.

"Can you get it off?" You ask.

He gives a slight nod and reaches his arm up to grab the neck of his blacks, slowly pulling it overhead to reveal the skin underneath. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, and you feel a flush rising up your neck and onto your cheeks.

The only light in the room is the faint glow from the bulb above the mirror. It casts shadows across the planes of his muscles, and you can't help but drink in the sight of him. His chest is strong and broad, and a line of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his blacks.

There's a blaster mark on his sternum, just above his right pec, not far off from the scar in the center of his chest he’d earned on Salucemi. It’s weeping blood slowly, trickling down the curve of his muscle, and you can see the red, puffy skin surrounding the injury.

It isn't terrible. A few inches to the left, and it could have been fatal. A few inches to the right, and the armor could have deflected the bolt entirely.

Still, you know that he's in pain, and the knowledge is enough to make the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes again. You force yourself to swallow them back and, instead, you reach for a damp cloth to wipe the wound clean.

He hisses at the contact, and you can see him grit his teeth against the pain. His hand moves to grasp the edge of the tub, and you can't help but feel guilty. You want to tell him to relax, to try and ease his suffering, but you know he wouldn't listen. He never listens, not when it comes to his own wellbeing.

"Sorry," you murmur, but the cloth keeps moving. You have to clean the wound, so you can treat it properly.

“Where’d you learn this, anyways?"

"What, first aid?" You're surprised by the question.

"Mhm."

“My dad was a swoop racer, believe it or not,” you say softly. You don't talk about him very often. It still hurts. But this feels like the right moment.

Rex tilts his head curiously, watching your face. You can see his expression soften, and you know he can tell how difficult it is for you to speak about this.

"Really?"

You nod, your eyes focused on your work. “My mom was always patching him up, and I’d sit on the counter and help out where I could. When she passed, I took over.”

“Isn’t swoop racing illegal?”

“Hm, not on Rion, it’s not.” You finish cleaning the wound and move to grab the bacta bandages. “Maybe if it was, he wouldn't have gotten himself killed."

You're not sure what possessed you to be so blunt, but the words are out, and there's no taking them back. Rex blinks, shocked by your honesty. You feel embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

"Sorry," you murmur, keeping your eyes low. "That was… I shouldn't have said that."

Rex says nothing. He knows better than to try and coddle you, and besides, you've always been the one doing the comforting, not the other way around. But it doesn’t sit well with him to see you like this, and before he knows what he’s doing, he reaches out to you.

His hand lifts, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can't help but lean into his touch. He's so warm, and his hand is calloused and gentle. He cups the back of your head, guiding you forward, and his lips press against your forehead.

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as the cloth slips from your fingers, and you cling to him. You feel terrible, for complaining about the loss of your father when Rex has lost so much.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs, and you're not sure if he means for asking or for Hardcase or for the war or for everything, and you can't bring yourself to ask.

“It’s alright,” you whisper back. He lets you pull away from him to busy yourself with sorting bacta patches, but you can feel his eyes on you.

"Is that why you came to Coruscant?” He asks softly, his tone careful and gentle.

Part of you wants to lie. You're tired, and you're hurting, and you're not sure you have the strength to have this conversation right now.

But the truth is already out, and if this will help him, you'll tell him anything.

You nod.

“He was actually really good at it,” you chuckle, and Rex can hear the bitterness in your voice. “But eventually he pissed off some powerful people who were placing the wrong bets. One day he left for a big race, and the next morning I found a box with his helmet at our doorstep. Or what was left of it.”

Rex sucks in a breath, and you can see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He knew about the helmet, he’s seen it on the shelf in your living room. But he hadn't known the full story.

You look back up at him. There are tears in your eyes, but they don't fall. You're smiling, and your eyes are sad, and his heart breaks.

“I tried to get the police involved, the racing league, anyone I could get to listen to me, but no one would investigate. I was so angry. Then I started getting threats. I couldn’t…” You shake your head, trying to rid the memories. "I couldn’t stay. So I moved here. And then the war started, and then I met you.”

It seems like a lifetime ago. The days before Rex felt like someone else's life, and you wonder how you ever managed without him. You'd been so lost, and so alone, and you'd felt like the universe was crashing down on you, and he'd pulled you out from underneath the rubble just by being there.

"I'm so sorry, cyar'ika," Rex murmurs.

You reach forward and gently lay a hand on his chest, pressing the bacta patch into place. His skin is soft beneath your touch, and you can't help but think, not for the first time, about how beautiful he is.

"I'm glad that you're here," you tell him softly. "That you made it back, I mean. I'm glad you came home."

Home. Rex swallows thickly.

He's never had a home before, not really. Home had been a word for people with families and futures. Home had been a word for normal, everyday people, not clones.

Home had always seemed like such a far away concept, something he'd never get to experience.

But, suddenly, the idea isn't quite so foreign. Home. With you.

"I'm glad I came back too," he finally murmurs, and his hand lifts to hold yours.

You're quiet, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, and his gaze finds yours.

There's something different between the two of you, something charged and heavy. You know you need to pull away. He needs to rest. You're both exhausted.

But you can't. You can't stop looking at him. He's beautiful, and he's kind, and he's the bravest person you've ever known. You've never loved anyone the way that you love him.

"Cyare," he whispers, and the word makes your heart stutter, even if you don’t know what it means.

He's not sure what comes over him. Maybe it's the way you're looking at him. Maybe it's the fact that, after the past couple of weeks, he thought he'd never see you again. Maybe it's that, for once, you're letting him take care of you. Maybe it's because you're so beautiful and you're so close and he loves you, he's so in love with you, and he doesn't know how much longer he can stand to go without saying something.

Whatever it is, he knows he needs to say something, and he knows he needs to do it now.

"I'm so glad I met you," he whispers, and it's the best he can do, but he hopes it's enough.

He reaches forward, and his hand finds the curve of your cheek, and the touch is enough to send a spark through your skin. You can feel the heat building inside of you, the desire pooling in your core, and the air in the room is electric.

"Me too," you manage.

His lips find yours.

You gasp against his mouth, and your arms wrap around his shoulders, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. You're pulling each other closer, as close as you can possibly get, and it's not close enough.

Rex moans softly against your lips, and you can't help the way your hips twitch, or the way you whimper into his mouth. You're both desperate, and eager, and it's the sweetest relief.

He stands and turns, lifting you up and sitting you on the edge of the counter, and his body presses against yours. Your legs part, welcoming him, and his hips slot perfectly between them. His hands are on your thighs, gripping and pulling and massaging the flesh.

"Rex," you gasp, breaking away from his lips.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips against your throat, his tongue and teeth working the delicate skin. He sucks at your pulse point, and you whine. You know that there will be marks in the morning, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"Rex," you whine again, and you're not sure why, not exactly, because all you want is for him to keep doing what he's doing, to let him claim you and mark you and make you his. But you're overwhelmed, and you need to catch your breath, and his name is the only word your brain can think.

His fingers tighten, and his lips lift from your skin. He’s watching you with dark eyes and swollen lips, chest heaving.

"I need…" he trails off, and he doesn't finish the sentence, but you understand.

He's holding himself back. He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want to assume, but you can feel the need rolling off of him.

He's desperate.

You are too.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper.

Rex sucks in a breath. There are a lot of things that he could say, but the only thing he can manage is your name, soft and needy, and you can hear the way his voice breaks.

The sound makes you ache.

Your hand finds his jaw, and your thumb runs along his bottom lip. He's looking at you with the most adoring eyes, and your heart feels like it's about to burst.

"Please," he breathes.

It's all the encouragement you need. Your lips find his, and his hands find your hips. He lifts you off of the counter and into his arms, and your legs wrap tightly around his waist. His fingers dig into the backs of your thighs, grabbing and holding and massaging the flesh. You're not sure how the two of you make it into the bedroom. All you can think about is Rex's lips, his teeth and tongue and hands, and the way he's carrying you like you weigh nothing, his hardness digging into your hip.

It's a miracle he doesn’t trip over the pile of dirty laundry on the floor.

His knees hit the mattress, and he leans down to lay you gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. There's a tenderness to his actions, a sweetness in the way he handles you, that makes you shiver. His thumbs trace the lines of your hipbones underneath your shirt, and he smiles at the sound of your breath catching in your throat.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, and the words are enough to make you ache.

His hands are so gentle, his face so earnest. He's always been so careful with you, and it makes you feel like the most important thing in the world.

"Yeah," you whisper, your hand coming up to rest against the side of his face.

Rex's smile is so beautiful, and it's so full of joy, and you can't help but return it. He turns his head and presses a kiss into the center of your palm.

His lips move, tracing the lines on your palm. His teeth nip gently at the tips of your fingers, and he watches as your breath catches.

He wants to take his time, to learn every inch of you, to map out the places that make you moan and the ones that make you scream, and the ones that make you laugh. He wants to kiss the scars and worship the stretchmarks and the freckles, and the dimples in your skin, and the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes, and the birthmark on your shoulder, and he wants to show you how beautiful you are, how perfect, how special, how loved.

He'll do it, eventually. But not tonight.

Tonight, he just needs you.

His fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt, drawing it up slowly, and he can't help the groan that falls from his lips at the sight of you. You're suddenly, painfully aware of the fact that you'd never put on pants when you answered the door, let alone a bra, and you're almost embarrassed.

But the way Rex is looking at you after your shirt is tossed aside makes your stomach flutter, and the words die on your tongue.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, his eyes wide.

He can't seem to decide where to look, where to touch first, so you grab his hands and guide them. They slide across the planes of your stomach and over your ribs, and his fingers ghost the underside of your breasts, and your head falls back onto the pillows.

"Rex," you beg. "Please."

The sound of your plea is enough to spur him into action. His lips find the side of your neck, and his hand cups your breast, thumb finding your nipple and swiping over it.

You gasp, your back arching and hips bucking into his, and Rex moans softly. His teeth graze the line of your pulse, and he moves lower, and he pulls a nipple into his mouth.

"Fuck," you whimper, your nails scratching at the back of his neck.

You can feel the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He likes having this effect on you.

The hand on your other breast is kneading the flesh, and his lips are sucking at your nipple, his tongue tracing patterns on the delicate skin. His fingers pinch and pull, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.

"So sensitive," he hums, and the vibrations from his words send a tingle down your spine.

"Only for you," you breathe.

The words make his hips stutter, and the hardness of his cock presses into the wetness of your core. You can feel the outline of him against you, the heat and the thickness, and your breath catches.

You roll your hips into his, and Rex releases a groan, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of your breast.

"Kriff," he hisses, and the sound sends a shock of pleasure through you. Suddenly, you remember your promise.

"Lay back," you whisper, and his head lifts.

"What?"

You push at his shoulders, mindful of his bandages as you urge him backwards, and Rex follows your command. You move quickly, kneeling between his legs and grabbing the waistband of his blacks. You can see the outline of his hardness straining against the fabric, and you can't help but lick your lips.

"Can I?"

Rex's chest is heaving, his eyes blown black, and you can tell he's trying to process your question.

"Cyar'ika," he breathes, and the endearment makes your heart flutter. "You don't have to."

"I know," you tell him, your hand moving slowly up and down his thigh. Your head tilts thoughtfully. "Can I be honest?"

"Always," he replies.

"I've wanted to for a while."

You can feel the blush creeping up the back of your neck, and your eyes dart away from his. You don't know why, it's not like you've been hiding your attraction, but something about telling him is making you nervous.

"You have?"

His voice is soft, and his hand finds the back of your head. His touch is so gentle, and the surprise and happiness in his tone makes you bold.

"Yeah," you murmur, looking back up at him.

He looks stunned, but there's a light in his eyes, a warmth that you can feel spreading inside you too. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shrug. "I didn't want to push."

It's his turn to blush. It's cute, the way his cheeks flush, and his eyes dart away. He almost looks embarrassed.

"Since we're being honest…" He starts.

"What?"

"Me too."

Your heart stutters, and a wide grin stretches across your face. The happiness building inside your chest is competing with the desire that courses through you at the knowledge that he's thought about this, about you, and the idea is almost too much. You're sure you must look like a fool smiling this much, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"You've thought about it?" You tease.

"Yeah," he breathes. "All the time."

"Tell me."

He groans, his fingers tangling in your hair, and you can see the way his cock twitches at your words. "I… Kriff, I've imagined it so many times. How good you'd look on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, or bent over, with my hands on your hips, or straddling me, riding me."

"What else?"

You've moved closer to him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, and you can feel the wetness between your thighs. You've never felt so desperate, so needy, and all you want is him, any part of him.

"I think about it all the time. What it would be like to have you in the barracks, in the 'fresher, in the hangar. You on your knees in my office. Fuck, everywhere. It's all I can think about sometimes."

You can feel the wetness growing between your thighs, and you can't stop the whine that falls from your lips. It's almost too much, hearing the things he's imagined, the ways he's wanted you, the times and places, and the need and desperation behind his words.

"Then will you let me?" You ask, and you hope the answer is yes, because you can't imagine stopping.

"Please," he breathes.

"What was that?"

Rex's grip on your hair tightens, his gaze locked on yours as he speaks again, his voice is low.

"Please, cyare."

That's all the encouragement you need. Your eyes don't leave his as your hands pull at the fabric, slowly revealing his length. He's bigger than you dared to imagine, and thicker, and the sight of him is enough to make your mouth water.

His eyes are wide, his pupils blown, and his mouth is hanging open slightly. The blush on his cheeks is spreading down his chest, and the muscles in his arms are tensed.

"So perfect," you hum, and you're not sure if you're talking to him or his cock.

You wrap your hand around him, and Rex's hips stutter. Your thumb swipes over the head, spreading the bead of precum, and his eyes fall shut.

"So sensitive," you tease.

"Cyare," he warns. There's an edge to his voice, and it makes you grin.

Your head dips down, and you press a kiss to the underside of his cock, and his hips jerk. You keep pressing kisses along his length, your fingers wrapping around the base. Rex is struggling to breathe. He's not even inside of you yet, and it already feels better than anything he's ever experienced before.

He opens his eyes to look down at you, and the sight of you on your knees in front of him is almost too much. He's dreamed about this moment, and fantasized, and he never, not in his wildest dreams, imagined that it would feel like this.

Your lips wrap around him, and Rex can't stop the way his hips thrust up. His cock brushes the back of your throat, and you gag, pulling back slightly with tears in your eyes.

"Sorry," he gasps, his cheeks flushing.

You shake your head as much as you can with his length in your mouth, and your eyes flash up to his.

You like this, he realizes with a start. You like being used, you like the feeling of him fucking into you, and the realization sends a shock of pleasure through him.

You bob your head slowly, and Rex watches, transfixed, as his cock disappears between your lips. Your tongue runs along the underside, and his eyes fall shut again.

"Maker," he moans.

Your hand is stroking what doesn't fit into your mouth, and your other is tracing the lines of his thighs, and his abs, and his V-lines. You can feel the muscles tensing and relaxing under your fingertips, and you can see the way his hips are straining, the effort he's making to keep still.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and you hum softly in response. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling gently, and his other hand comes to rest on the back of your head.

"Fuck, mesh'la," he moans, and the praise makes you preen.

You pull back, until only the head is between your lips, and swirl your tongue around him. He tastes sweet and salty and just the right amount of bitter, and you can't get enough.

"So good," he gasps. "So perfect, so beautiful."

He's babbling now, the words falling from his lips without him thinking about them, and you can't stop the grin. You'd always wondered if he was a talker.

"So perfect, cyar'ika, taking me so well." His voice is wrecked, and his breath is coming in ragged pants. "Feel so good. I could fuck your mouth all night."

His words make you shiver. He could. He could do anything he wanted with you, and you'd let him.

You move your head down, taking him as far as you can, and Rex's eyes open to watch you. You hold his gaze as his cock slides along the back of your tongue and hits the back of your throat, and you suppress the urge to gag.

"So pretty," he hums, his voice strained. "Such a good girl."

Your pussy throbs at the words, and the moan you release vibrates his length.

"That's it," he gasps.

You can feel the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, but you keep moving, keep taking him, and his grip on your hair tightens.

"So good, mesh'la, so, so good."

He's repeating the words, and you're not sure if he knows he's saying them. Your jaw is starting to ache, your lips are sore, and there's drool dripping down your chin, but you can't stop the soft whimpers and moans.

The sounds are enough to drive him mad.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, and his thumb runs along your bottom lip, stretched around him. The gesture is so tender and loving, it's almost too much.

"Look at you," he breathes. "Kriff, I've wanted this for so long. So beautiful. So perfect. My perfect girl. You take me so well."

You hum again, and his head falls back, the movement pushing his cock deeper. You gag around him, and his hips stutter, a litany of Mando'a spilling from his lips. You're not sure what he's saying, but the words are making your cunt clench, the pleasure building inside of you overwhelming.

"I'm close, mesh'la," he gasps. "If you want to stop, you'd better— ah, kriff!"

You've pulled back, and the suction of your lips is incredible. Rex's hips are stuttering, his hands are tugging on your hair, and the sounds falling from his lips are enough to make your core throb.

"Mesh'la, please, I can't—"

His words die in his throat as you reach between his legs and roll his balls in your hand. The action sends him hurtling over the edge, and his hips thrust up one last time, pushing his cock down your throat as he comes.

Your throat works to swallow every drop. It's so much, more than you were expecting, and you struggle not to choke. His grip on your hair is borderline painful, but you don't mind. You can feel his whole body trembling, his breathing labored and his chest heaving.

You release him with a wet pop, and he shudders. You press one last kiss to the underside of his softening length, and he twitches, his body still sensitive.

"You're gonna kill me" he breathes.

"Hopefully not." You wipe your mouth, thumb catching a stray drop of cum and sucking it into your mouth, and you watch as his eyes darken.

He pulls you to him, and you climb back into his lap, his lips on yours. The kiss is slow and lazy, his hands running up and down your back, his body still shuddering from the force of his orgasm.

"Mesh'la," he sighs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "So beautiful."

His fingers trail down the side of your neck and between your breasts. They ghost the skin of your stomach and dip underneath the hem of your panties, and you can't help the whimper that escapes.

"Still want me?" You ask.

"Always."

His lips are on your neck, and his fingers find the wetness between your thighs, and you gasp. The noise that falls from his lips is filthy.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he groans. "You're soaked."

"That's your fault," you manage.

His teeth graze your pulse, and his fingers brush against your clit, making your hips buck.

"Can't help it," you gasp.

You can't stop the cry of pleasure as his thumb presses down. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, and you're not sure why. You've made it perfectly clear that you want this.

"Rex," you whimper. "Please."

He presses another kiss to your lips, and the hand not between your thighs wraps around your back, holding you steady. He teases your entrance, and your breath catches, and then his fingers are slipping inside.

"Ah, fuck," you hiss.

You're so wet, so slick, and his fingers slide in easily. Just two fingers already feel so thick, and you can feel your walls stretching around him. There's a dull ache, but it feels so good.

"Cyar'ika," he groans. "Fuck, so tight."

His fingers pump in and out slowly, and your head falls onto his shoulder.

"Faster," you gasp. "Please, Rex."

"Shh," he coos. "Patience, mesh'la."

"Please."

"Be a good girl and be patient for me."

You whine, the sound muffled by his shoulder. He's being cruel, teasing you like this. You've already had him once, and now he's drawing it out. "Rex, I need you."

He hums softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. His fingers are still pumping in and out, slowly, agonizingly, and you know he's doing it on purpose.

"I need you," you whimper.

"I'm here," he whispers.

"No, I— ah! I need you inside me."

You can feel his breath catch, and his fingers stutter, and then his lips are at your ear.

"How do you want me, mesh'la?"

"Like this," you breathe. "I want to ride you."

His breath hisses through his teeth, and his fingers speed up. The change in pace is enough to make your head spin, and the noises coming from your mouth are embarrassing. You sound desperate, and you are.

"Fuck, Rex."

"So good," he hums. "Such a good girl."

A third finger slides in beside the other two, and the stretch makes your back arch. You're not sure when he had the chance to slick his fingers with your wetness, but he must have. He's not hurting you, and the feeling is incredible.

"Rex, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet," he cuts you off.

"Please, I need to—"

"You'll wait," he growls, and the command is enough to make your toes curl.

"Please," you beg. "I'll be good, I promise, just—oh!"

Your plea is cut off by a sharp cry of pleasure, and your walls flutter around his fingers, your hips rocking back and forth.

"I said not yet."

"I'm sorry," you gasp, and the words come out strangled. "I couldn't help it, you feel so good."

He hums, his thumb finding your clit, and the stimulation is almost too much. His lips find yours, and his free hand holds you steady as his fingers move inside of you.

You writhe on top of him, your legs shaking, and you can feel the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, and it's all too much.

"Please," you beg, and you're not even sure what you're asking for.

"What do you need?"

"Please," you gasp.

"Use your words, cyar'ika. What do you need?"

"I need— ah! I need you. I need more. Please."

He's torturing you, you realize. He's doing it on purpose, making you beg, punishing you for how you teased him earlier, and the thought of it makes your cunt throb.

"You've been so good for me, mesh'la. You think you've earned it?"

"Yes," you hiss. "I'll be good. Please, Rex, I'll be a good girl."

He can't say no, not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your lips are parted and your cheeks are flushed, and the look in your eyes is so desperate.

"Okay," he concedes.

You let out a sound of relief, and his fingers are slipping out of you. He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth, and the action is enough to make you groan. You rise off of him, legs trembling, and hurriedly push your panties down and toss them aside.

He looks up at you, and there's awe in his eyes, a reverence, as his hands settle on your hips to guide you back to him. Your hand wraps around his cock, lining him up, and the two of you gasp as his head breaches your entrance.

"Take your time," he whispers. “You don’t have to—fuck!”

You sink down, taking him fully in one smooth motion, and Rex can't stop the low, guttural moan that escapes.

"You said to take my time," you say, and there's a cheeky lilt to your voice. He opens his mouth to argue, but the words die in his throat. "So I took my time."

You can't stop the grin. The look on his face is almost too much. His cheeks are flushed, and his chest is heaving. His lips are swollen from the kisses, his eyes wide and his pupils blown. He looks good like this, you think, and you've never seen him so undone.

"Cyar'ika," he finally manages.

You hum, circling your hips, and his grip on you tightens. Your pace is slow, savoring this feeling unlike anything you've ever experienced. He's bigger than anything you've ever had inside of you before, filling you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You're still adjusting to him, and your movements are slow, but they're steady, and you can't help the soft whimpers and gasps.

Rex is struggling to breathe. Your heat is so warm and so wet, your walls are clenching around him, and the sight of you is almost too much. The way your head is tipped back, your eyes closed and your mouth open, the sounds you’re making, and the way his cock is disappearing inside of you over and over again, it's all so much. He can't believe this is happening.

He leans forward to press a kiss to your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse. You gasp before pushing on his shoulders, and his back hits the mattress. You lean over him, your hands reaching to grasp the headboard, and the new angle makes the both of you exhale. It also makes your breasts hang tantalizingly in his face.

Rex is not one to waste an opportunity.

He leans up and closes his lips around one of your nipples, and the sensation is enough to make your hips buck. Your pace speeds up, and his hands grip your hips tightly, helping to guide you.

"Oh, kriff," you gasp.

He releases your nipple with a pop and moves his attention to the other, and the sound you make is almost enough to make him come right then. He can’t help but shift his hips, moving them up and down in time with your thrusts, and you pull away from him to give him a look of warning.

"Stay still," you order.

"Or what?"

You raise an eyebrow, and Rex shivers. You're not sure what makes him react like that, but it sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

"I'll stop."

His jaw drops, and his eyes widen. "You wouldn't," he says.

"That’s an order, Captain," you say, and his cock twitches inside of you. You can't help the wicked smile. You’re learning a lot about him today.

"You're the worst."

"You love it," you retort.

His hands move to your waist, and he pulls you closer.

"I love you," he breathes.

You can feel yourself clench around him at his words, and he hisses through his teeth.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

Your lips meet his, and his tongue slides into your mouth as his hands roam your body. You can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, his lips are warm, and his breath is hot, and his body is so close to yours, the feeling is overwhelming.

He's everything.

"I love you," he says again, his voice hoarse.

"I love you, Rex."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"It's true," you gasp.

His hips stutter, and you pull away, giving him a look of warning, and his jaw clenches.

"Sorry, cyar'ika. I couldn't help it."

"I know."

"Let me make it up to you."

"Wh— ah!"

You cry out as his fingers find your clit, and your walls flutter. The movement sends pleasure shooting through you, and your legs shake, the pace of your hips unsteady.

"That's it," he coos. "Come for me."

"Not yet," you gasp. "Need you to— oh, fuck, Rex."

His hips snap up, meeting your thrusts, and the new pace is relentless. He's chasing his own release, and you're right there with him. You can't take it anymore.

"Please, please, I can't—"

"Go ahead," he urges.

You can't stop the cry that tumbles from your lips. You can feel the orgasm building, and your hips are bucking wildly.

"I can't—I can't," you sob.

"Come for me, cyar'ika. Come on my cock."

The words are enough to send you over the edge, and he swallows your cries of pleasure. You're trembling above him, your nails are digging into his skin, and the pressure of his fingers against your clit is enough to make your hips jerk.

"Kriff, I can feel you," he breathes. "Your little pussy is squeezing me so tightly."

"Please," you beg. You're not even sure what you're begging him for.

All you know is that he feels so good, and you're so sensitive, and the sensations are too much and not enough.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Good girl."

"I can't, I can't, I can't-"

"Shh, shh, it's okay."

He's so gentle even as he sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping up to meet yours. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the end of your channel, and his fingers are rubbing frantic circles around your clit.

The pressure is almost painful, but it feels so good.

"Oh, fuck, Rex," you cry out.

"Come again," he demands.

"I can't," you protest. "It's too much."

"You can," he counters. "Do it for me."

The words send a thrill through you, and you can feel the pleasure building. Your walls are fluttering around him, your hips are bucking, and you can't control the noises coming from your lips.

"That's it," he growls.

Your orgasm washes over you, and this time it's stronger, tears spilling over as his name falls from your lips over and over again. You can feel your release gushing out of you, coating his cock and the sheets below.

The sight is so filthy, but it only seems to spur him on. Rex grips your hips tight enough that you know you’ll bruise, and the thought sends another thrill through you. You want him to leave his mark. He fucks up into you with a force that has the headboard slamming against the wall, and his thrusts are losing their rhythm.

"I'm so close," he breathes.

You're barely coherent, but you can't help but latch on, his words sending another rush of heat through you. "You gonna come for me, Captain?"

He shudders, and his eyes flutter shut, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He can't find the words.

"You've been so good for me," you purr breathlessly. "Let go."

You can see the tension leaving his shoulders, his jaw slack. His breath is coming in shallow gasps, and his thrusts are unsteady. He's teetering on the edge, and all it takes is a few more words from you.

"Fill me up."

"Cyar'ika," he warns.

"Do it," you order.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he breathes. "Oh, fuck, I'm coming, I'm—"

He curses, his head falling back against the pillow, and his cock pulses as he spills inside of you, his hands tight on your hips to hold you down. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, and the sensation is enough to make the corners of your vision darken.

"I can feel it," you murmur. "I can feel you, kriff, Rex."

He groans, his arms pulling you down, and you collapse against his chest. You're not sure how long you stay like that, just holding each other. You can't feel anything except him, his hands running up and down your spine, and his lips pressed to the top of your head.

“So,” you say after a while, and he can hear the smugness in your voice.

You tilt your head, and the look he gives you is withering.

"Don't start," he warns.

"Captain, huh? I didn't know that was your thing"

"That's not—"

"What? You don't want to talk about the fact that your cock gets hard when I call you Captain?"

On cue, the appendage in question twitches, and Rex closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not— ugh, kriff," he mutters.

You can't stop the laughter that bubbles up.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed," you coo.

"Don't patronize me," he says, but the words have no heat behind them.

"I'd never dream of it, sir."

You can see the blush rising in his cheeks, and his eyes darken.

"That's an order," he grumbles.

You lean up, brushing your lips against his, and the touch is soft and gentle. He melts into it, his hands resting on your waist.

"Yes, Captain," you say.

"I can't—kriff. You can't say things like that, mesh'la." His expression is pained, and the sound that escapes him is almost a whine.

"You're right," you agree. "I can do better."

He raises an eyebrow, and his jaw drops as your fingers wrap around his wrist. His eyes follow the motion as you pull his hand between your thighs. You let out a satisfied moan as his fingers dip between your folds, and he can't tear his gaze away from the sight of his seed dripping from your cunt when his softening cock slides out of you.

"You're a mess," he says reverently.

"I'm a mess because of you."

He hums, his fingers gathering some of his spend and sliding it back into you.

"Is this what you were imagining, Captain?"

He shudders at the title, and his hips cant, his cock stirring to life.

You can't help the grin. "It is, isn't it?"

"You're terrible," he growls.

"Oh, I'm not terrible. I'm the best you've ever had."

He lets out a breathless laugh. "You're the only one I've ever had," he admits.

You pull back, staring at him in surprise, and the look on his face is unreadable.

"Are you— are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious," he says, brow raised.

"But--"

"Cyare, I've only ever wanted you." His words are simple, and they're said with a conviction that steals the breath from your lungs.

"Oh."

You're speechless. You're not sure what you'd imagined the past few months. You're not even sure if you'd ever given much thought to it, but the idea that you're the only person who has ever made him feel like this is dizzying.

"I've loved you for a very long time," he confesses, and the words make your heart ache. "I never thought—kriff, I never thought you'd feel the same."

"I love you," you say firmly. "So much."

He grins, and the smile is so wide that his cheeks are dimpling. You can't resist. You lean down to kiss him again, and the way he holds you, like you're the most precious thing in the world, makes the feeling in your chest bloom.

"I'll say it every day for the rest of our lives, if that's what you need," you say.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he murmurs.

"I wouldn't," you promise.

He stares at you for a moment, his gaze intense, and his grip tightens. You can see him steeling himself, and the words he speaks make you shiver.

"Good, because I intend to marry you someday."

"Someday," you echo. You're not sure if you believe him, if that's even possible for you, but you believe that he believes it.

"When the war is over," he confirms. "When the fighting is done, and we've finally got a chance at peace, I'll give you the galaxy, cyare. And a family, if you want one."

"Rex, I—" You swallow thickly, and he can see the emotions flickering across your face. His fingers are drawing shapes on your hip, and his eyes are locked with yours.

"I'm not asking for an answer now," he says gently. "I just— I want you to know how serious I am."

You nod, and the silence that stretches between you is heavy.

"You really mean it," you finally say.

"Of course I do."

"What happens if—"

"There is no 'if.'" His tone leaves no room for argument, and he shifts, sitting up. The new position brings you into his lap, and your knees are straddling his waist. He rests his forehead against yours, and his breath fans across your face.

"Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

"Together," you murmur.

"I'm with you. Always."

You close the distance, kissing him softly. It's nice, holding him like this. The feeling of his arms around you is enough to drive the fears from your mind, pushing them to the furthest corners. You can feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders, and his hands roam your body, exploring every inch.

"You know," you begin, your voice quiet, and your lips brush against his with every word. "I'm still waiting for a tour of the barracks, Captain. Oh, the hangar too."

His breath hitches, and you can feel him starting to harden again under you.

"Cyare," he breathes.

"I'd love to see your office," you continue, and his eyes darken. "You can give me a private tour, just the two of us. I'll wear a skirt, and you can bend me over your desk."

His cock is fully erect now, and he can't stop the groan.

"And the showers," you purr, gently rotating your hips. "I bet they're big. Just big enough for the two of us. We could get the water nice and hot, and I could drop to my knees..."

"Kriff," he swears.

"Or…"

He's breathing heavily, his fingers digging into your skin.

"We could do that now," you offer.

"Cyare." His tone is pleading, and the sound sends a thrill through you. You can feel the ache building between your legs, and your thighs are sticky.

"I'm already dripping wet," you whisper.

"That's it."

He moves so fast that it makes you yelp, and the next thing you know, he's on his feet, carrying you, and your legs are wrapped around his waist. He walks swiftly towards the 'fresher, and the feeling of him sliding against your core makes you shudder.

"You're going to be the death of me, cyare," he murmurs.

"Maybe," you concede. "But I think we can agree that it'll be a great way to go."

The door slides shut behind him, and the sound of his laughter is enough to make you melt.

"A great way to go," he echoes.

You know the path ahead of you is treacherous. You know there will be more battles, and more losses, and more nights where you're unable to sleep. You know there will be pain, and fear, and sorrow.

But there will be hope too, and joy, and happiness. A home, and a family, and a future.

It will be worth it.

[savannahsdeath]

hii i have a little ellie request. so can we maybe have an enemies to lovers where reader and ellie “hate each other” but in reality ellie just wants to be with reader and she ends up using the strap roughly bc reader didn’t wanna confess after years? (sorry this seems long😭)

i absolutely love this idea omg??

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

PART1ONE

part 2two

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, 'enemies' to lovers, strap (r!receiving), mean!ellie kinda??, rough!ellie, reader is also mean at first !!

writers note: i love receiving requests like yall are so creative and idkk its just easier to write a req than my own idea🫣🫣 also this turned out to be longer than i expected (my longest fanfic yet!) but even the anon said it seems long so ig thats how its supposed to be🙏

It was another PE lesson you hate so much. It wouldn't be that bad, if not the fact that you're in the same team with Ellie. Ellie fucking Williams.

She would get mad at you for every little mistake you made. You absolutely hated her.

You had to admit she was... pretty. Especially when she had the mix of mad and stern expression on her face. Sometimes you provoked her just to watch her insult every little thing about you she could but you didn't mind. You just sat there with a smirk, sometimes making a mockingly worried face to piss her off even more. Sometimes. Sometimes you weren't in mood for that and you'd actually get offended. Sometimes even hurt. But you couldn't really blame her, that's how it works.

This day, you were literally rescuing your team. Every point was because of you. Every 'that was close' situation was only 'close' because of you. But your luck, or whatever made you win, had to run out eventually. You missed one time.

"What happened? Got holes in your hands? Tired? Not so good anymore?" Ellie asked you with that mocking tone.

Everyone ignored your interaction - they knew what's starting and they didn't want to get involved in that.

"I've done pretty much everything for this team, and the only thing you do is complain, Williams." You said and you could feel your temper rising.

Ellie didn't hesitate to respond to that.

"Well at least I don't do a half-ass job like you. You're really so full of yourself, aren't you? Why not just give up and let someone actually capable take over, huh?" She barked sarcastically.

The other team members didn't even try to hide their excitement now, they just sat back and enjoyed the show, even the teacher was having a hard time holding back the grin on his face whenever Ellie came up with a new insult.

And now, there was no going back.

"Oh, I'm sorry Williams, did your precious little ego get hurt from that? Are my skills threatening your so-called pride? Well if you don't like it, suck it up." You shot back.

If this kept up, you were going to end up with another detention for sure. Everyone knew that you two were like oil and water, but nobody really expected you to get into a shouting match over PE class. Especially, not this early in the morning.

The teacher finally decided that it was enough trouble, and he stepped between the two.

"Ladies, settle down! If you can't figure out how to work well together in a simple PE session, then you'll need more than one detention to figure it out. Go sit down." He ordered, and you two sat down, next to each other.

As if following a silent order, all the other students just went about their business and pretended like nothing had happened.

"You should learn how to shut up sometimes." You said quietly, nervously playing with your fingers.

"You should stop thinking you're so damn important." She snapped back, completely ignoring your advice as she stared at you with the same icy cold look as before.

The teacher came over to the two of you and handed you a form, which you quickly read over. "Maybe it's rough but that's what you both deserve after arguing in every single class. And if that won't help... I don't know what will. Someone will check in on you from time to time, so don't even think about anything, understood?."

In short, the file was saying you'll have spent a month after school doing little school works, like cleaning the gym, with her. It was a frequent way of dealing with problematic students in your school.

You weren't even surprised - the teacher was right. Your little bickers were the main gossip topic and there was no way they'll go unnoticed.

Still, you couldn't help but frown.

"You've got to be kidding me." You muttered under your breath. Spending a month after school doing odd jobs with Ellie was literally the last thing you wanted to do. You knew there was some sort of punishment coming, but this was extreme.

Ellie overheard your muttering, and she rolled her eyes. "It's just a bunch of cleaning, what's wrong, can't handle a little hard work?" She mocked.

"And why are you so happy? Maybe you wished to spend more time with me?" You chuckled, finally looking up at her.

Ellie seemed caught off guard, but she quickly recomposed herself. "Who said I was happy? Sure, I'll love to see you grovel and scrub floors while I sit back and relax." She replied in a sarcastic tone.

You decided to press your advantage, and give Ellie a dose of her own medicine. "Aww, is someone actually admitting that they like spending time with me? I'm so honored." You said with an overdramatized fake fluster.

Ellie didn't even let you finish your sentence before she cut in with her usual sarcastic tone. "Pfff, don't get so ahead of yourself there." She chided. Even then, you could hear some slight annoyance in her voice.

Ellie may have been a jerk, but there was something about her you couldn't help but like. You couldn't explain it, but you liked this banter between the two of you.

Oh, who were you trying to lie to? You liked her. You were just good at hiding it.

You were just about to open your mouth to respond to Ellie's last snarky remark, when you were cut off again.

"Enough."

You both turned to see the teacher staring at the two of you. He sounded more annoyed than before, and you decided it was better to stop your feud before you got in any more trouble.

"You two are already going to spend a month together doing odd jobs. The last thing we need is for you to add another week to that sentence." He warned.

You wanted to say something back, but you decided to shut up before the teacher had to make it worse. You and Ellie just looked at each other for a couple of seconds, before you rolled your eyes and got up from your seat.

After a few more classes, the time of  fulfilling your penalty came. You sat down at the gym benches, waiting for Ellie. You waited, and waited, but no one came.

Ellie was faster than you with getting up. She smirked and said; "Well it's not like you actually had anything worth saying anyway, so it's easier for you." With that parting jab, she walked out of the gym.

You expected something like that from her, so you stood up and a few minutes later you were standing in front of her room. You knocked to the door, patiently waiting for her to answer.

After a few moments, you heard footsteps, before the door finally opened. Ellie stood in front of you, her face as annoyed as ever.

"What do you want?" she grumbled, clearly not in the mood to be bothered right now.

"Uh, hello? We're supposed to be doing the clean-up, remember? You haven't forgotten, right?" You said, trying to stay as polite as you could.

She sighed and motioned for you to come in, clearly not ready to go just yet.

You slowly stepped into Ellie's room, your eyes taking in the decorations and mess. It was clear that this was Ellie's world, but you couldn't help but feel a slight curiosity towards her.

"So, why exactly weren't you at the gym?" You asked, finally breaking the tension. You didn't want her thinking you were here to start another argument.

"I had stuff to do." Was the terse response you were met with, nothing else.

"Yeah, of course." You rolled your eyes. "Your room could use some cleaning too."

Ellie smirked when your tone turned from polite to annoyed when she gave you her response, but you couldn't help but notice that she slightly recoiled when you mention how messy her room was. For someone with such a sharp tongue, she sure wasn't enjoying that same kind of treatment.

"Oh yeah? So maybe we should have you clean my room instead." She shot back.

"Actually, boarding school is still school, so that'd count too." You smirked, not so sarcastically anymore. You'd really rather stay in her room than running all over the building with a mop and dirty cloths.

Ellie raised one eyebrow at your reply, clearly not expecting you to just accept it without some kind of snarky remark or argument.

"Alright then." She replied simply, and she walked over to her bed and started to clear out the clutter. You couldn't really deny that her room was in a pretty messy state.

You explored the room, looking for something to start with.

Just then, near other scattered clothes, you saw feminine underwear. Clearly not hers.

"Um, Ellie..." You laughed. "Who's this?"

She walked up to you, not seeming surprised or embarrased at all. "I dunno. There's lots of girls visiting." She smirked.

You knew the smart thing to do would be just to drop the topic, but your curiosity got the best of you. Just who was Ellie Williams hanging out with?

"Really? And how many of them leave a pair of underwear in your room as a souvenir?" You asked, trying to keep a straight face, but you couldn't help but be amused by the situation.

Ellie just laughed, and you couldn't help but grin at her confidence in that moment.

"If you're asking if I'm dating someone," Ellie said, looking at you with an amused expression, "then no. I wouldn't call it dating."

You knew Ellie was always too stubborn and proud to just admit it normally, so you decided to push her just a little bit further.

"So it's not just a single person then? What's it? A new girl every day?" you asked with a smirk, knowing you'd hit a nerve there.

The slight flicker of annoyance on Ellie's face told you that you'd hit the mark.

"So what if it is? Are you jealous?" She teased in response, just adding fuel to the fire.

Now, she had the smirk on her face, and you just knew you'll regret what you started.

"Not really. Everyone knows you fuck every girl in the school anyways. Well, almost every." You suggestively pointed at yourself. "That's honestly sad. You should focus on one person, don't you think?"

Ellie took this as a challenge, she just couldn't resist it when you made yourself the exception.

"Oh, you think you're a special case? How cute." She snickered, and you couldn't help but feel somewhat pleased with that response after how much you two had been annoying each other for the past month.

"What do you think, should I consider dating you? It seems like you're interested, isn't that why you keep sticking around?" She asked, looking at you, knowing very well what kind of effect her words were gonna have on you.

"Me? Interested? You're the one finding excuses to talk to me every day, even if it's just another argument!" You shook your head and looked down, trying to hide that your smirk turns into a honest smile.

You felt Ellie's eyes studying your face as you tried to hide your genuine happiness, you tried to play it off, but you knew that it wasn't working in your favor. You couldn't even deny it, because it was true, you were interested in Ellie. Maybe not at first, but after spending time together, you grew to like her, her arrogance, her wit, the snarky smile on her face... and her eyes.

"Oh, so you do care!" She quickly cut in, sensing your weakness as your smile grew.

"Come on, don't tell me you've been enjoying this little game of ours, haven't you? Don't you look forward to it every day? Don't you love the adrenaline that kicks in when you're about to say something that's bound to start an argument?" She asked, taking a step closer to you and lowering her voice.

You could almost see the sparks fly as the two of you stared at each other, both feeling the tension in the air. You were almost tempted to take her up on the offer, but your pride got the best of you.

"You're just full of yourself, aren't you? Thinking everybody craves that attention." You said after taking a deep breath.

Ellie just smiled and walked straight to you, getting up close and personal.

"Well, I know you want it. So stop putting up a facade and admit it."

"I'm not like these sluts you fuck, Williams." You said, trying to keep your voice steady and calm.

Ellie just smirked in response. "You're right, you're not like them. You're better than them. And maybe you are a little special, considering how much you manage to piss me off everyday." She took a step back and looked you up and down. "I kinda like it." She said, and you couldn't help but feel your heart rate go up a little when she said that.

You just stared back at Ellie, not really sure what else to say in this situation. Both of your egos were too big to give the other one satisfaction, and neither would be making the first move.

She finally spoke up; "Your turn to be honest now. Admit you're into me."

She was awfully close to you now, daring you to say something.

"Don't push it, Ellie." You told her confidently, and even though you really wanted to say it, your pride was holding you back from admitting it.

Ellie just smirked and moved even closer to you, until her face was just an inch away from yours. "Say it." She whispered.

You felt your heart pounding faster as you just looked at her, not able to break her stare.

You shook your head. "No way."

She just chuckled at your response. "I knew you'd say that. And now, I'm gonna make you say it yourself."

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Ellie pulled you close, just enough to make your lips meet. You just stood there, completely stunned by how bold she was, but at the same time, the feeling of her lips against yours was so new and so good as well. You hadn't felt this type of rush before, and you didn't want it to end.

You couldn't stop yourself from letting out a gasp followed by a moan into the kiss, which made her even bolder.

"I'll show you how lucky those so-called by you sluts are." She whispered after pulling away from you, but not for long.

While Ellie's mouth aggresively covered yours, you felt her slowly pushing you towards the bed.

You were barely able to think now, as your adrenaline was pumping through your whole body. Your back hit the mattress, and Ellie continued to push you down as she climbed up onto the bed on top of you.

That's when it hit you.

You realized that your little feud with Ellie wasn't going to end after all, except this time you weren't fighting her.

Instead, you were just enjoying the moment with someone you could almost call a friend.

It felt like there was nothing else in the universe, just a rush of new sensations that you didn't want to end.

Ellie was the one in control now, as you felt her body pressing up against you, her lips pressing against yours, her hands moving around your body without hesitation. You weren't even thinking straight anymore, you just let her embrace you, letting her take control entirely.

You felt her break the kiss for a moment, just to whisper something in your ear. "Say it."

You knew what she wanted you to say, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.

Before you could answer, you felt her slowly undressing you. Her lips were tracing paths along your throat, not letting you let out a logical word from it - only little whimpers.

You felt every curve of her body as you felt her lips against your neck, every touch sending chills down your spine.

When you felt her hands move towards your pants, you felt your body respond in the only way you could.

You couldn't think of anything else but her embrace, her warm breath against your neck, and your body slowly being freed from clothing.

Ellie knew exactly how to push your buttons.

Before you could catch your breath, you were left shaking, as her hand slipped into your underwear, which was soon on the floor too. She was teasing your clit in almost painful slow way, watching you squirm.

"Speak up, babe." She whispered mockingly.

But you couldn't. Not because you didn't want, or because your ego didn't let you - you just couldn't. You even asked yourself 'What does this girl wants from me?' as you already forgotten her previous wish. You just weren't thinking straight.

"Come on, do this for me." She kept looking at you with overdramatic concern. You saw her fastening her belt and sliding of her jeans, revealing an obviously-way-too-big strap, which purple color didn't surprise you at all as you imagined it the same way in your dreams.

When you finally came back to your senses, you constructed a whole full sentence answer. But as soon as she saw you opening your mouth to speak up, she slid a few inches of her toy into your soaking cunt. Your planned reply quickly got replaced with another gasp.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" She smirked, her hips started thrusting. She had some sympathy for you, so she didn't make it too painful, but she wasn't also so merciful.

You cried out, at first clenching your thighs from surprise, but she was too strong for you to actually succeed.

You leaned your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes shut causing a few of your pathetic tears soak into the sheets.

She held your hips, so she won't miss your sensitive spot, but her grip was so hard you swore you can already see the bruises creating right beneath her fingers.

"Honestly, I'm really happy it ended like that. You have no idea how often I'd imagine you instead of some random girl. But it's good to have you really there." She chuckled, not slowing down but not speeding up either.

Your eyes opened wide at this confession. Before today, the nicest thing she said to you was 'what's wrong?', even though it was in an obviously mocking way. And know it turns out she liked you for a long time. Just like you liked her.

"W...Wh- What?" You managed to stutter out, leaning on your elbows to look at her before your vision turned blurry again so you fell back on the pillow.

"You didn't know?" She laughed. "I mean, you were always oblivious, so I shouldn't be shocked but... I thought it was clear." She was speaking slower than usual as every single word coming from her mouth was synced with the moves of her hips. While saying this simple thing, she pushed her strap into you at least twenty times. And she wasn't taking her time, oh, no. She was fast and rough, like you're just a sex toy without feelings. Did you mind? Hmmm...

When you started getting used to the size of her cock and your mind wasn't completely blank anymore, you remembered one important thing your PE teacher said. 'Someone will check in on you from time to time, so don't even think about anything.' None of you were either at the gym or putting up flyers around school. They're going to think you ditched it. Even though you'd rather get into more trouble than end whatever you were doing now, you felt you need to tell Ellie, just in case.

"El-s..." You moaned out and quickly realised it won't be easy.

"What is it?" She asked, seeming honestly interested in what you got to say. "Ready to admit you're absolutely obsessed with me?"

You clenched your fists, squeezing the bed sheets between your fingers.

"Th- no... We should..." You couldn't help but cry out again.

As soon as she heard the two keywords - 'we should' (and she hated when someone was telling her what to do, so that pissed her off) - she understood what you're trying to say.

"Behave? Fulfill our duties? Or...?" She chuckled.

You wanted to speak up, just to not feel so vulnerable as you really were. You only managed to mumble 'we' before one of her hands started rubbing your clit, just like at the start - painfully slow. The feeling made your thighs tense and move closer to each other, wanting to close the gap between them. But Ellie didn't let that happen as she quickly separated your legs.

Her hips also didn't stop moving, and all the sensations connected made you go silent again. Well, not silent - unable to speak. And that were two completely different things.

"I'd take that as a 'we should continue what we're doing right now'. Isn't that what you want?" Even though you're eyes were closed, you could feel her intense stare on you. Then, her mocking tone came back. "What is it with you being so quiet all of sudden? You spent a few of the past years yelling at me, and you can't even say a word now?"

"I ju-st..." You said but then she hit your g spot again, and again, and again... making you go silent.

Your stomach started feeling funny - probably because of how deep in it Ellie's strap was. At this point, you thought you can even feel it in your throat and that's what's blocking your words from coming out. But the funny feeling had a different origin - your release was getting awfully close, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"We're going to have lots of fun this month." She whispered, leaning in to stroke your cheek.

[hazbinwhoree]

Hiya ! Let me tell you first that I love your writings about Adam ! Our angel deserves some attention

I couldn't help but notice that there is a lack of hurt/comfort Adam fics 😠

Sooo I've been thinking (read this with Charlie's voice from the pilot) what about an Adam x reader arranged marriage fic ?

Like Adam is given a new wife from Heaven, he treats her really badly at the beginning but then kinda develops a soft spot for her ? Ending with the fluffiest softest smut you can make ?

Do we have a deal ? 😈

I Wanna Be Yours

Adam supposed he should be grateful, he wasn’t alone anymore, but Lilith and Eve had fucked him up so badly that he wanted nothing to do with his third wife. If he got too close, he’d fall in love, and then she’d leave him. So Adam did the opposite of getting close. He got mean.

(Name) was born yesterday. Created by God to be Adam’s third companion. She was born with pertinent information already in her brain, memories, and free will. Free will, and she still wanted nothing more than to be Adam’s wife.

He was so lonely, but he’d never admit it.

At first, Adam was just cold to her. But when that didn’t deter (Name) from trying to get close to him, he grew mean.

“I don’t want you, bitch!”

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Piss off, I hate looking at you.”

It started wearing (Name) down. It hurt, he hurt her, constantly. She was growing to dislike him. She wished she could hate him, but she just couldn’t. It didn’t help that they lived together, though Adam had banished her to the guest room, not willing to share his king size bed.

One day, (Name) gave up. She decided she was done being verbally abused as she followed Adam around like a lovesick puppy. So that day, she didn’t follow Adam. She didn’t leave her house. In fact, she didn’t even leave her bed.

To Adam’s dismay, he was disappointed and slightly concerned when (Name) didn’t show up that day. She always followed him around. All day, every day. Adam hadn’t realized how comfortable he got with it.

When he came home that day, he peaked into her bedroom, finding her asleep. His brow furrowed, wondering why she hadn’t followed him today. Adam was going to ask, but (Name) didn’t wake up until morning.

By day four, after three days of cold silence from (Name), and her still not following him, Adam decided to go home early. He got home around noon to catch (Name) off guard, he was never home around noon.

He snuck into the house but didn’t see her anywhere downstairs. He climbed upstairs and peered into (Name)’s bedroom. Once again, that’s where he found her, still in bed.

“Okay, what the fuck,” he asked loudly, barging into her room.

(Name) jumped. When she registered Adam, she scowled. “Don’t scowl at me, bitch,” Adam spat. Something died in (Name)’s eyes and she just looked tired and sad. Adam softened.

“...Sorry.”

That got (Name)’s attention. Adam had never, ever said sorry to her before.

Adam came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” (Name) was appalled. “I’ll fucking tell you what’s wrong.” She sat up.

“I was created for the sole purpose of being your wife so that you would no longer be alone. That is my entire purpose, my whole identity. And you hate me. You’re literally all I have in life and you want nothing to do with me. You weren’t even just cold, you were mean. Nasty. I wish I hated you. But I still love you, and that fucking hurts.”

Adam was quiet for once in his life. He had never really thought about the consequences of his actions. He hadn’t seen (Name) so much as person as he did an annoyance that followed him around. Now here she was, a person. A being with thoughts and feelings. A being he’d been abusing.

He reached a gentle hand towards her and she recoiled. Adam winced. “I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I really am. I thought… if I got too close, you would leave me like Lilith and Eve did.” (Name) blinked at him. “I know that’s a shitty excuse,” Adam mumbled. “I wish I could tell you how sorry I am. I was a fucking coward, in trying to prevent myself from being lonely I made you lonely.” “You did more than that,” (Name) scoffed.

Adam looked ashamed. “Yeah… I’m so sorry. I want to start over. If… if you want that. I understand if you’re done with me, I definitely deserve it.”

(Name) contemplated for a moment. “We can start over,” (Name) said eventually. “But we start slow. I don’t like or trust you right now.”

Adam nodded eagerly. “That’s fair. (Name)?”

“Yeah?”

“Just start coming with me when I go about my day again.”

(Name) did, and over the next two weeks she would accompany Adam everywhere, not follow, because he kept his stride slow so that she could keep up. He talked to her, asked questions about her, got to know her. She quickly became a soft spot for him. It took a lot to not sabotage it out of fear, but Adam managed.

Two months in, and they’d kindled a relationship so well that they had sexual tension. They had yet to act on it, neither realizing that the other wanted it as much as them.

But this was the longest Adam had gone without sex in a long time, and with his high sex drive, it was incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much longer before he couldn’t contain himself anymore. He burst into her room randomly and announced, “I think I love you and I want to fuck you.”

(Name) put down her phone, wearing nothing but short shorts and a tank top, ready for bed. “I think I love you too, and I would very much like you to fuck me,” (Name) replied after a beat of silence.

Adam wasted no time, coming up to her bedside and picking her up bridal-style. “Adam, what–” “You’ve had your own room long enough. It’s time we share a bed. And what better way to consecrate it?” He smirked.

(Name) smiled, holding onto his neck. When they entered Adam’s room, he gently laid her down on his bed. He was going to take his time with this, he’d waited for so long he was going to savor every second.

He shed his mask, and (Name) gasped. She’d never seen him without his mask before. Adam looked slightly unsure of himself. “Kiss me,” (Name) breathed. Adam stood between her legs and bent over the bed to press his lips to hers sweetly. She ran her fingers through his hair.

“You’re so pretty,” she whispered when he pulled back. Adam wanted to make a cocky comment, but decided against it for the sake of the moment. He pulled his shirt off, then undid his belt, kicking off his pants. Then he gently pulled (Name)’s tank top over her head, thrilled to finally see her bare rack.

But before he went for her chest, he pulled her shorts down and off. When they were both in their underwear, Adam picked (Name) up and threw her further on the bed. Then he climbed onto the bed and on top of her.

He connected their lips while his hands groped her chest. His tongue invaded her mouth and (Name) moaned. Adam kissed down her neck, her chest, until her reached her left tit, and latched on with his mouth. (Name) gasped as he sucked on her nipple, his hand reaching to roll her other nipple between his forefinger and thumb. (Name)’s fingers tangled in Adam’s hair.

He pulled off with a wet pop and moved to the other breast, taking it into his mouth as well. (Name) hummed sounds of affirmation as Adam gave her chest attention, sighing when he pulled back. Adam’s hand slid down her stomach and inbetween her legs and (Name) bit her lip. When Adam’s hand slipped under her panties and his fingers brushed against (Name)’s wet folds, she moaned. “You’re so wet,” Adam said lowly in her ear. “All for me.”

He entered two fingers inside of her, curling them. (Name)’s back arched a little bit. Adam added a third rather quickly, realizing briefly that her body had been made to fit with his perfectly. The thought almost made Adam sentimental.

Because of this fact he didn’t spend long fingering her. He was impatient, and he didn’t have to. She was already ready for him. He pulled her panties down and off before kneeling back to tug his boxers down. He shed those too and pressed their naked bodies together.

“I love you,” he said quietly, kissing her lips. “I’ll forever be sorry for how I was before. Let me make it up to you~”

(Name) whimpered when she felt his dick pressing at her entrance. Adam grabbed both of her hands in his, pinning them next to her head and intertwining their fingers. “Are you ready?” he asked, not sure how much longer he could wait.

(Name) nodded vigorously. Adam gently pushed his hips forward, slowly sinking into her heat. He groaned, his self-restraint waning. He bottomed out with a heavy sigh. “I love you,” he repeated. “Fuck. You're so tight.”

(Name) couldn’t reply, adjusting to Adam’s size. Once she did, she moved her hips a little bit. “Move,” she begged. Adam didn’t need to be asked twice. He slowly began to roll his hips, thrusting in and out slowly and sensually. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough, so it didn’t last long.

Adam’s hips picked up in pace and intensity. (Name) moaned everytime he drove into her. It was Adam’s new favorite sound. They were in missionary, Adam’s favorite position because he could stare at (Name) while they made love. He could drink in every little expression of pleasure on her pretty face.

(Name) squeezed the life out of Adam’s hands. Adam leaned down to suck love marks onto (Name)’s neck. (Name) threw her head back, giving him easier access while he marked her as his.

When he pulled back, he let go of one of (Name)’s hands, sneaking his now free hand down between them to rub circles around her clit with a slender finger. He relished in the look of pleasure (Name) made, jaw dropping and eyes rolling back. His hips didn’t lose their steady pace until (Name) moaned, “Faster!”

Adam began slamming into her, and with (Name)’s free hand, she clawed at his back. Every thrust hit deep and Adam timed pressure on her clit with every thrust. “Adam,” (Name) gasped. “I’m– nngh~ I’m close.”

“Fuck, me too,” Adam panted. He kept his pace steady, both of their orgasms steadily growing. (Name)’s moans became higher pitched. Adam’s groans grew more frequent.

Eventually, they were on the precipice together, calling out one another’s names as they climaxed. Adam came buried deep inside of her, and (Name) came on his dick. They froze for a moment afterwards, each trying to catch their breath. As they panted, coming down, Adam dropped his forehead against (Name)’s, staring deeply into her eyes. Watching her orgasm had made his euphoric. He kissed her softly, in contrast to the pace they’d just been going at.

“I love you,” (Name) said quietly.

Adam pulled out, collapsing on the bed next to her. “I love you too, (Name).”

[wosoluver]

We don't talk anymore - Part 2

-> Claudia Pina x childhood best friend!reader

Claudia Pina Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Different people reach the high of their careers at different times.

You couldn't complain though. From playing with the boys in your neighborhood, to playing for a first division team in England, you had come a long way.

And now at just 23, you were being transferred to Barcelona.

Yes. The same team that had turned their back on you years ago.

In truth you took the hard hit of being separated from your best friend and your family, as an opportunity, to work hard enough to make back home.

And here you were. Making your way to your first training with the team.

Your heart pounded in your chest, anticipating to see those beautiful blue eyes, always paired with a grin.

You thought about reaching out, but decided against it. What were you supposed to say? Hello? Remember me? I'm coming home?

And it's not like she didn't know you had been signed by her team. She could have reached out too.

Unless, something you refused to believe, she had completely forgot your existence, and didn't recognize her own childhood best friend.

You took a deep breath walking in, you went around the locker room, introducing yourself and Alexia took you under her wing immediately, trying to make sure fit in. Apparently you were a bit early.

"Y/N?" - You heard as you turned around.

Seeing her eyes shining as you did.

"Clau." - You said it on a quieter tone.

She immediately hugged you. Initially you didn't hug her back. Blame it on shock or blame it on hard feelings. But eventually you gave in.

"You two know each other?" - asked Jana.

"They are best friends." said Patri.

The only one there who had actually heard about you. Many, many times.

Like Pina she started very young on Barça, around the same time. They instantly became friends. She spent many nights wiping Claudia's tears, while she mourned the loss of her friend.

"I've missed you more than anything!" - She said already emotional.

"Long time no see hm?" - You said trying to break the awkwardness.

"I watched you play all the time on my tv." - And you instantly let the wall you were trying so hard to keep up, down. Offering her a smile.

"I did the same! I'm sorry for not reaching out.

I know it's stupid, but I thought you might have forgotten me..."

"There's not a day that went by where I did think about you."

You heard someone clean their throat.

"You guys can talk more later yeah? We have some training to do." - Said Alexia kindly.

"I'm Patri! Pina's second best friend." - Said Guijarro with a big smile as you

all walked out for the field.

You couldn't remember the last time you had so much fun playing. You remembered how it felt to play as a kid. Remembered why you fell in love with the sport in the first place.

"Ets boníssima, Y/N! Welcome to Barça." - Alexia, said giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Moltes gràcies." - Giving her a bright smile.

"Hey wait up for me!" - Claudia yelled as you were all going in to shower.

"You're better than I remembered."

"Well the girls at Tottenham were a lot harder to play against, than the boys from back home." - You both let out heartfelt laughs.

"I'm sorry I left you behind."

"Stop! You didn't. You were following your destiny."

"I felt so powerless, not being able to demand they brought you along."

"Well I took the longer way here."

"You made them regret not choosing you. You proved them wrong. You played until they couldn't ignore you anymore!"

"You make it sound more glorious than it actually was."

"I told you, we would make it."

"You saw potential in me, before any team could."

You two finished getting ready.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"That would be nice."

"Okay. Patri you're giving Y/N a ride!"

"You offered me a ride? As a passenger in someone else's car?" - She really hadn't changed.

"She won't mind."

"I don't mind." - Said Patri joining the two of you on the way to the car. - "The english league had nothing on your defense, Y/N. You needed better competition."

As she said that you completely understood why they became close.

And once again, you made your way home together. As if you had never been separated at all.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home, Chapter 2 Part 1

First, Previous

Story Summary: Tim Drake and Danny Fenton meet online as precocious preteens with far too much internet freedom due to parents who are far too interested in their work to monitor what their kids are getting up to. They bond and don't bother keeping secrets from each other about their vigilante lives.

This chapter wasn't supposed to exist. I was supposed to end the first chapter with the last segment I shared then jump ahead to the point where Tim helps Danny escape. But I couldn't get the idea of Tim and the Young Justice team ending up in Amity. I mentioned the idea to @britcision who asked if I really couldn't find a way to fit it in. And that was followed up by a night of insomnia due to bad life decisions regarding caffeine. And thus I figured out how to make it work.

This is going to be a longer segment! I've been wanting to share something a bit longer for a week or two and then I hit the 250 follower mark, so now I have an excuse to do so! (I totally would've shared regardless of a notable follower milestone.)

Word Count: 4.8k

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Tim was in the pilot seat of the plane, but had it set with autopilot and was facing the back where Conner and Bart were arguing over what to have for dinner. He and Cassie exchanged grins and he pulled out his phone to text her and ask if she was up for sushi just to throw a third option out there and make the argument worse when the computers all started beeping as the plane wobbled.

Dropping his phone, he turned back to the controls. The computers had failed and the plane was losing altitude fast. Tim pulled up on the steering, trying to keep the plane from nosediving into the ground.

“What’s going on?” shouted Conner.

“I don’t know!” Tim grit his teeth. “Plane failure, we’re going down!” he warned. Examining the landscape before them—mostly open plains thankfully—he held the steering steady as he aimed for land empty of buildings and roads.

“I’ll break the door,” called Conner.

“Superboy, lock the steering in this position!” ordered Tim.

“Done!”

Tim abandoned his seat and ran to the door, reaching it just as Conner tore it open. Without hesitation, Tim jumped out, Conner’s arms around him a moment later holding him in the air.

Next to them, Cassie had hold of Bart who was grinning as he showed off the bags he’d rescued before their escape.

From their place in the air, they watched as the plane crashed in a fiery disaster.

“Do we check it out or do we run in the opposite direction?” asked Cassie.

Tim wanted to run without leaving any trace of who’d been flying the plane. But… “We have to make sure the fire doesn’t spread. And make sure there’s nothing incriminating in the crash. But I want you or Wonder Girl on recon and we’re out of there as soon as first responders get close.”

“You’ve got it,” said Conner in his ear.

And a few moments later, they were on the ground facing the wreckage that was their plane.

“You know,” said Bart, “We probably didn’t have to steal the plane when we left. Had anyone tried to use it to escape, they wouldn’t have gotten very far.” He tossed one of the bags their way and Conner caught it. “But look at what I saved!”

Tim leaned over to see as Conner opened the bag. Right on top was the cellphone he’d dropped when the plane started to fail. He laughed and grabbed it. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t turn on for some reason. Deciding to deal with it later, he looked at what else was in the bag: his and Conner’s civvies. “You’re the best, Impulse!”

Bart held out a second bag to him. “And this is as much of the evidence I could get to. The last bag has mine and Wonder Girl’s belongings.”

Tim pulled him into a hug. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.” Letting him go, he turned to the burning plane. “Now, let’s take care of this.”

Over the next hour, they managed to contain the wreckage and put out any fires. No local authorities ever came out to investigate the site.

“Where the hell even are we if there’s no one around?” asked Conner. “Even back at Ma and Pa’s someone would’ve been here in, like, ten minutes.”

Tim just shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Somewhere in Illinois. But I don’t like this. Let’s see if we can find the nearest town. Make sure everything’s okay. Wasn’t there a highway just south of here? Impulse, mind checking it out and seeing if you can see any signs pointing us to a local town or city?”

“You’ve got it, Rob!” said Bart with a salute before disappearing.

Tim had barely opened the last bag to see what else Bart had saved before he was back.

“You’re right about Illinois! Saw a sign. A town called Elmerton is east of us and a town called Amity Park west.”

Tim froze. “Amity?” he asked. His mind already spinning away. Danny had mentioned tech sometimes went wonky near Amity due to the interference of ectoplasm. Could that be what had happened to the plane? And Danny had mentioned their town was so small they didn’t have much of a police force. A large explosion would probably be assumed to be a ghost and be left to Phantom or the Fentons…

“Yeah. Do you know it?”

Tim laughed. “Yep! I’m friends with the local hero. He knows both of my identities. Let’s go pay him a visit. Civvies will be best. I’ve told him more about you as my friends than my teammates.”

The others exchanged hesitant glances. Cassie was the one to speak. “You talk about us to him? Why haven’t you mentioned him?”

Tim shrugged. “He and I don’t really keep secrets from each other. And I’m sure I’ve mentioned him. Remember when we were trying to settle on a movie last week? I suggested the reboot Star Trek movies because Danny had been going on about them for ages and I wanted to see what had him so worked up.”

“Okay, what the fuck, Rob,” said Conner. “You need to be more obvious with these things. We thought you meant someone from your school or something. Not a fellow hero!”

Bart nodded his agreement. “Also, won’t he be mad you’re just telling us his identity?”

“Danny’s an idiot,” Tim stated. “He’s worse at keeping a secret identity than Kon.”

“Hey!” protested Conner.

“Rob’s got a point,” said Cassie as she elbowed Conner with a grin. “But, Robin, if we’re going as civilians, how will we explain the lack of transportation?”

“Easy. According to Danny, tech acts weird around Amity. Probably why the plane went down and our phones don’t work. So we’ll just say our car broke down and ask if Danny can fix it. He’s good with machinery.”

“Why haven’t you brought him into the League if the two of you are such good friends?” asked Conner, arms crossed.

Tim just shrugged. “He doesn’t want to join. The local threats he takes care of are constant enough that he can’t leave for more than a day or two. Besides, his parents don’t know and he can’t explain absences that are longer than a single night where he pretends to be at one of his friends’ places.”

“His parents don’t know?” Cassie shook her head. “I couldn’t imagine doing this without Mom’s support.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah. I’m honestly kinda worried about his living situation. So the chance to go check on him in person is something I can’t bring myself to give up. You guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but Danny and I’ve known each other for four years and things have been rough for him this past year since he’s gotten his powers. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

“Wait, four years?” asked Conner.

“He predates Robin?” Bart’s mouth was all but hanging open.

“I did exist before the suit, you know.” Tim stood a little taller. Usually he liked being Robin more than Tim, but he did have a life outside of the suit.

Cassie rolled her eyes. “That’s not what he meant and you know it. It’s just… You don’t talk about your pre-Robin life very often.” She grinned and Tim suddenly felt uneasy. “We are so asking him all sorts of questions about what you were like.”

“I mean… I wasn’t all that different to the current me.”

“Oh, we’ll be the judge of that,” she promised with a wicked gleam in her eye. This was going to be a disaster, wasn’t it?

“So what’s got you so worried about Danny?” asked Bart.

Tim sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “So, the deal with Amity Park is that his parents built a portal to the Ghost Zone in his basement. In the process of getting it to work, there was a lab accident and Danny got ghost powers. Don’t ask him or his friends about it. Now ghosts come through and try to attack the town and Danny stops them. Bad enough, right? But the reason his parents were building the portal is because they’re ghost hunters. They see a ghost, they pull a weapon on it and try to, and I quote, ‘tear it apart molecule by molecule.’ I don’t like the idea of Danny living there when he has ghost powers but he’s refusing to leave and I don’t have any way of kidnapping him and keeping him away.”

“You know that’s a spot on your ‘how close is Robin to going supervillain on us’ bingo card, right?” asked Cassie.

Conner elbowed her. “Not the point right now, Wonder Girl.” Then, in a whisper just loud enough for Tim to hear, he added, “Though this gets me close!” Back in his normal voice, he said, “Robin we’ll absolutely go check on your friend with you. Is there anything else we need to know?”

Tim tilted his head but decided not to address the teasing. “Don’t eat any food cooked in his house or stored in the main fridge. And try to avoid mentioning the word ‘ghost’ around his parents. They apparently will take that as an excuse to literally talk for multiple hours on the topic. It should go without saying, but his hero identity must be kept secret from his parents at all costs. His best friends and sister are the only humans who know. Though all the other ghosts know.”

“So…” start Bart, “You’re telling us that his rogues all know his identity but his parents don’t. That’s a bit of a role reversal.”

Tim laughed. “Yeah. Weirded me out when he told me, too. But he’s not concerned about the ghosts knowing. Just human ghost hunters.”

“Like his parents,” Cassie said.

“Like his parents,” Tim confirmed.

“Well fuck.” As always, Conner knew how to sum up everyone’s thoughts.

“So, do you know his address?” asked Bart.

“Nope,” Tim said, popping the P. “But we won’t need it. His house is obvious from a mile away based on what Danny’s said.”

Cassie shook her head. “Every word out of your mouth makes me more concerned and more curious.”

Tim laughed. “That about sums him up. He’s got some stories that could rival ours for ridiculous and crazy. Now, Wonder Girl, Superboy, what do you say about flying us closer to town? Then we can change and walk the rest of the way in.”

“You’ve got it Boss-man!” Conner shouldered the bag of their belongings and hugged Tim close before launching them in the air.

Cassie did the same with Bart who pointed in the direction of Amity. It wasn’t long before they could see the town.

The group landed in a small grove of trees to change out of uniform before walking along the side of the highway towards Amity.

As they were walking, Bart asked, “So why shouldn’t we eat any of the food at Danny’s? I’m hungry.”

“We’ll go and get far too many burgers and snacks on B’s dime. The food at Danny’s house isn’t safe to eat or even be around, just trust me.”

“Hey, Tim,” said Conner, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Tim just shrugged. “Look, his parents would fit in at Arkham. The rest… well, we’ll see when we get there. I only have second hand information myself and I don’t know if I fully believe what Danny says.”

“You didn’t crash the plane on purpose, did you?” asked Bart who was now walking backwards in front of him.

“Yeah, Tim,” agreed Cassie, “Sounds like you’ve been wanting to come here for a while. Convenient, isn’t it? You could’ve just asked us if we were interested in a road trip!”

Tim flushed. “Are you guys seriously accusing me of deliberately destroying evidence in a plane crash? Me?”

“Don’t worry, Tim!” Conner slung an arm around his shoulders and leaned into him. “I believe you. If you wanted to concoct an excuse to get us here, it’d be much more subtle.”

Cassie and Bart laughed as Tim grumbled about traitorous friends. Louder, he said, “Oi, watch what you say. We’re in everyday clothes.”

“Of course. And you’re not just saying that because we’re right.” Bart stuck his tongue out at him.

Tim ducked under Conner’s arm and threw a punch which Bart easily dodged. “Remember I know where you sleep!” he called out.

“Right back atcha!” replied Bart. Cassie and Conner laughed at them.

It only took them about twenty minutes to come to the outermost buildings of the town and within forty, they were in the town proper.

“Now, seriously, Tim, where’re we going?” asked Cassie looking around.

The people who were around kept giving them odd looks and Tim had no idea what they were doing to stick out so obviously.

As if echoing his thoughts, Cassie muttered under her breath, “Is it just me or are we being stared at?”

Conner replied just as quietly. “I can hear them whisper; they know we’re outsiders. What sort of town is this, Tim?”

“Amity’s been through a lot the past few months. It might be a more active hot spot than Gotham, actually. I don’t think they trust strangers right now.”

“Worse than Gotham?” asked Cassie. “Timmy, bestie, you are totally keeping secrets from us again! Not cool.”

“I’m not!” Tim protested. “Look, we just need to find Danny’s house and hope there isn’t a ghost attack before we do.”

“How often do these ghost attacks happen?” asked Bart.

“From what Danny says, something usually happens most days. But they’re generally small. Big attacks… maybe once a week? But those can take a few days to fully resolve.”

“Dude, that is worse than Gotham,” said Bart, awe in his voice. “And the local hero just takes care of it all himself?”

“Yeah. Danny Phantom seems to be pretty competent. At least against ghosts.”

Cassie let out a low whistle but decided to change the subject. “So, if your friend’s house is so distinct, what are we looking for?”

Before Tim could reply, the roar of an engine drowned him out and a giant silver-and-green monstrosity turned the corner so fast only two wheels remained on the ground. A woman in a blue jumpsuit leaned out the window holding a gun bigger than herself as she screamed about ghosts.

Around them, people took one look and ran into any door they could, slamming them shut. Conner, Cassie, and Bart fell into defensive stances.

Tim just grinned and relaxed as he watched to see what street the GAV turned down. It really was as ridiculous as Danny had said.

As soon as the noise of the Fenton’s illegal tank died down, Tim answered Cassie’s question. “We go down the same street as that vehicle. Those were Danny’s parents.”

“Are we going to the lair of super villains?” asked Conner.

“Nah, just mad scientists.”

“Tim, is this really the best idea?” Cassie had pulled out her phone and was uselessly trying to turn it on.

“We’ll need to if you want your phone fixed.”

Around them, people were starting to cautiously open doors and look out to make sure it was safe. Tim pretended not to notice the looks his friends were exchanging.

“Come on, what happened to grilling Danny about what I was like before Bruce took me in?” He really hoped the potential for embarrassing stories, of which there obviously weren’t any, would get them to stop second guessing him.

Cassie did hum consideringly. “Well, it’s not like we haven’t faced weirder. And we can hold our own against mad scientists if needed. Even without any form of communication device. Which… Tim, on a scale of an elephant noticing an ant to about to start world war three, how likely is it that your family has noticed something happened and how totally normal will their reaction be?”

Tim groaned. “Look, I’ll see if Danny can fix my phone first before we get dinner. If it doesn’t take too long, it won’t be an issue. We probably have a few hours before B does anything irreversible.”

“I have no idea how you put up with someone always in your business like that,” commented Conner.

Tim shrugged as he finally got the others to start moving in the direction the tank took. “I mean, I keep track of you guys about as closely as Bruce follows me.”

Bart laughed. “Whelp, that’s another box checked on the ‘Tim is going to grow up to be a supervillain’ bingo card!

Tim stuck his tongue out at his friends and sped up so he was walking a few feet ahead of them. Around them, pedestrian traffic started picking up again as people decided it was safe to come out again.

Bart ran up until he was walking backwards in front of Tim. “Do you really think you can outrun me?”

“I’m not trying to out run you. Just walk ahead of you. I’m the one who knows what I’m looking for.” They reached the turn and Bart kept walking straight so Tim grabbed his arm. “Like, for example, the fact that we need to turn down this road.”

A quick glance down the street proved this had to be the right place. The giant Fenton Works sign hung off one of the buildings and the monstrosity Danny referred to as the Ops Center sat precariously on the roof.

“In fact, that building that’s probably breaking every building code ever imagined is our destination. Come on! The sooner we get there, the sooner Danny can fix my phone, and the sooner we can eat.”

“He’s totally taking us to the lair of some evil mad scientists, isn’t he?” Cassie muttered.

Tim pretended he couldn’t hear her. Or Conner’s reply of “Oh, definitely. One more square and I’ve got bingo.”

“I think we need to change the rules of the game. We have winners too often. First person to a full card wins, not the first person to connect a line.”

“I hate you guys. You’re fired as my best friends. It’ll just be me and Danny from now on. I’ll run away and move here and hide in his attic and never talk to any of you ever again.”

Bart hooked their arms together. “Then we’ll just come and drag you back. Evil scientists and ghosts and creepy town or not.”

Conner walked up until he could bump his shoulder against Tim’s and Cassie ruffled his hair.

“Yep. You’re stuck with us for life at this point. No firing allowed,” she said.

Tim hid a smile as they walked the last half block to Danny’s house. And then the group just stared at the building for a minute.

“You know, after seeing this place, I don’t think I needed the warning about the food,” commented Cassie. “I’m not going to trust a single thing they try to give us.”

“If it comes from Danny or his sister, it’ll be fine. From their parents? Decline.” Tim took a breath and walked up the steps and rang the doorbell.

Voices could be heard from inside and a moment later, the door opened to reveal the largest human Tim had ever seen. And the orange jumpsuit he was wearing was so bright even Tim, used as he was to Robin colors, had to hold back a wince. Jack Fenton was smiling broadly at them.

“Welcome to Fenton Works! Who might you lot be? Would you like some fudge?” And even though his hands had been empty a moment before, he managed to pull a tray of fudge from…somewhere.

Before Tim could reply, Maddie Fenton was there, too. “Jack, let the kids speak! Welcome. Are you here for Jazz or Danny?”

Tim put on his gala-smile. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton. I’m Tim, Danny’s penpal from Gotham and these are some of my friends. We are on a road trip and were passing by and I decided I wanted to stop by to see Danny. Is he home?”

The words were barely out of Tim’s mouth before Jack was shouting with a voice loud enough to shake the windows. “Dan-o! Your friends are here!”

Maddie’s reaction was more interesting. Her brow furrowed and she seemed to mumble to herself, “Penpal? Has Danny mentioned a penpal before?” Louder, she said, “Please come on in. Danny will be right down.”

As his friends shuffled past him, they each poked or prodded Tim in some way to let him know how crazy they found the situation. Maddie shut the door behind them and the click of the door had no right to sound as ominous as a lock turning in a cell in a supervillain’s lair.

True to Maddie’s predictions, footsteps echoed on the floor above them and then down the stairs. Danny froze on the steps, though, as soon as he saw exactly who was in his living room.

Tim raised a hand and grinned. “Hey, Danny! Surprise?”

“Tim? What the—” Danny cut off the phrase with a glance at his parents. “Secrets! We’ve talked about surprises like this! What are you doing here?” And then he was running the rest of the way down the stairs and hugging Tim tightly.

Tim’s surprise lasted just a moment before he was hugging Danny back. “I don’t actually think we have had a conversation about the proper way for me to show up at your place when I ended up stranded in the area by accident with a non-working phone. I blame you, by the way.”

They pulled apart, but Danny stayed close enough that their arms brushed against each other at the slighted movement. “I can fix that for you. It’ll take about twenty minutes.” He glanced at Tim’s friends. “Each, I’m afraid.”

Cassie waved off his apology. “Fix Tim’s first. His family is the one that’ll freak out if he’s out of communication too long. It’s nice to meet you Danny, I’m—“

But Danny cut her off. “Cassie, right? Tim’s told me a lot about you. It’s great to finally meetcha! And you two must be Conner and Bart!” As he said their names, he correctly pointed at each boy.

“You’ve got it in one,” agreed Conner. “Though I’d like to open by saying anything Tim said is probably a lie.”

Danny laughed. “Even the part where he called you the coolest person he knows after Dick? Because I got that message just—”

Tim slammed his hand over Danny’s mouth. “No need to go into that right now.” He ignored the way he felt his face heating.

To his relief, Danny’s dad butted into the conversation. “Well we’re thrilled to have you kids here! Will you stay for dinner? My snoockums will be making the best chicken you’ve ever had!”

“Actually, Mr. Fenton,” said Tim before anyone else could, “Danny and I have this ongoing debate over which is better: Batburger or Nasty Burger. It’s been going on for years and I need to try Nasty Burger so he can’t use the excuse that I don’t know what I’m talking about when I insist Batburger is better.”

“Oh you are so going to eat your words,” Danny said shrugging out from under Tim’s arm. Looking to his friends, Danny asked, “Have all of you had batburger?”

Bart grinned. “Sure have! We’ll be sure to give our unbiased opinions!”

Danny laughed. “Great, because Tim sure won’t. He’ll refuse to admit how he’s completely wrong and Nasty Burger is the absolute best ever.”

Cassie shook her head. “Is it really called Nasty Burger? Why would they do that?”

“Oh someone vandalized the sign years ago and the restaurant decided to lean into it. Now, come on, I’ll fix Tim’s phone and then we can get dinner.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat here?” asked Maddie again.

“Yeah, mom, we’re sure.”

“How long’ll you kids be in town for?” asked Jack. “Do you have a place to stay?”

Tim shrugged. “My foster dad gave me a credit card for us to use for lodgings, food, and gas on the trip. We were just gonna find a hotel or something in town.”

“Now that just won’t do!” Maddie even covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide in disbelief. “Neither the hotel nor the motel has any ghost shields to speak of. What if there’s an attack? No. You must stay here. Our house is the safest place in town, dontcha know.”

“Exactly!” boomed Jack. “In fact, let me show you!” He reached over and flipped what looked like a light switch, but instead of a light turning on, a siren sounded and glowing-green metal slammed over the windows. At least five hidden compartments on every wall opened revealing lasers and guns. Each of which made their own noises.

Danny tensed next to him as about a third of the weapons pointed to him and a robotic voice said, “Ghost threat detected.”

Then a girl appeared on the stairs shouting at the adults. “I’m trying to study!” It was amazing how she was able to shout over the noise of the alarm systems. “Who activated the home defense system?” And that’s when she noticed Tim and his friends.

As soon as her daughter appeared, Maddie flipped the switch back off and the weapons disappeared back into the walls, the metal retreated from the windows, and the alarms fell quiet leaving behind a normal-looking living room once again.

Behind him, Tim heard Cassie mutter, “What the fuck?”

“Who are you?” Jazz asked as soon as it was quiet.

Jack answered for everyone. “These are Danny’s friends! Tim and… sorry, I don’t think I caught the rest of your names.”

“Dad!” Danny shook his head. “Come on down, Jazz. I’ve mentioned Tim a ton. He’s my online penpal Secrets. And these are his friends: Cassie, Bart, and Conner.”

“Oh! Secrets!” She ran the rest of the way down the stairs. “It’s so great to meet you. Danny didn’t mention you coming to visit.” She shook Tim’s hand with a friendly smile.

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. “Glad to meet you, too. Danny talks about you all the time.”

And his friends were done being quiet because Bart decided to take over explanations. “Our visit was unscheduled. We were in the area and our transport and phones stopped working. Saw the sign for Amity and Tim brought us here.”

Jazz nodded in understanding. “Yeah, that happens around here. But Danny can fix your phones and car so you won’t be stranded long.”

“Yep! That’s just what I was about to do. Fix Tim’s phone then take them to Nasty Burger. I’ll take care of everyone else’s after we eat.”

Jazz nodded. “Bring me back a milkshake? I have a bit more studying to do. But, Tim! I want to get to know you better. After all, you’ve been such a large part of Danny’s life these past few years. So I’ll pull out some board and card games and we can just hang out for a bit while Danny fixes your phones.”

Tim felt his face flush again. Did Danny really talk about him that much? “Uh, yeah. Sure. That sounds great.”

“Oh. My. God. Jazz! You’re not allowed to interrogate my friends.” Danny took Tim’s hand and dragged him towards the stairs. “Come on, let’s go up to my room where I can work on your phones.”

Tim heard snickering from at least one of his friends as they followed them. But really, most of his focus was on how Danny’s hand felt cool but solid in his own.

Jazz just rolled her eyes. “It’s not interrogating, Danny. It’s getting to know someone. That involves questions!”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Conner. “No one is worse at interrogation than Tim’s dad.”

“Not my dad!” protested Tim automatically.

“Foster Dad, whatever! You know who I mean.”

Danny didn’t let go of his hand until they were in his bedroom. And once everyone, except Jazz, was in the room, he shut the door.

“Great, now that we have some privacy, let’s have proper introductions! Glad to meet you all. Do you want anything? Jazz and I have water bottles and pop cans hidden up here that are safe. And I’ve got, like, seven flavors of pringles.”

“What flavors of pop?” asked Conner.

“Coke, ginger ale, sprite, and fanta,” replied Danny.

“Can I have a sprite?”

“I’ll take a coke if it’s okay,” said Cassie.

“Fanta for me!” called Bart.

“You guys got it. Tim?”

“I’ll just have water for now.”

Danny nodded. “Give me just a sec. The fridge is hidden in Jazz’s room.”

And then the Young Justice team was left alone.

Cassie hissed, “What the fuck, Tim!”

----------

Next

And there you have it! Tim and Danny's first in-person meeting. And the Young Justice's introduction to Amity and the Fentons.

If anyone has any fics, meta analyses, or whatever that focuses on the Young Justice characters, I'd love some recommendations! I've read less on them than the bats and they're shaping up to have a big part in this fic.

Tag List:

@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691

[v-o-i-d-e-d]

I've been binging romcoms with my younger sister and we just finished "To all the boys I have loved before" and now I can't get the idea out of my head: reader writing letters for different starfleet members without intending to send them and suddenly the letters are gone and being sent to their unintended targets (lol, probably Jim did it not knowing that they were not supposed to be read or something). Problem is: our favorite vulcan will too be receiving quite a love letter. Idk, I just thought it was cute, you can ignore if it's too silly ^\\\^

This was such a cute request and I love rom-com-type situations so I ran wild. Also, I'm sorry that this took so long for me to get out I have been busy with school and other annoying responsibilities! I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Message in a Bottle

Pairing: Spock x Kirk!reader

Warnings- none!

Word Count: 4047 my hand slipped

            Lieutenant (Y/N) Kirk had been having a totally normal day. She completed her duties on the bridge as normal and had just finished eating dinner with her brother Jim. Now as she headed back to her room, she could not wait to shower, crawl into bed, and enjoy the next few hours of sleep before she had to get up and do everything again. When she entered her room the automated door hissed closed and she was finally completely alone. She took a deep breath and turned the lights in the room on. She almost immediately noticed something that completely ruined her peace.

 Earlier that morning, (Y/N) was clearing out her storage closet and had sat a white box full of envelopes on her dining room table so that she would remember to find a new place for them. That box was no longer on the table. Now, one might think why is a missing box of envelopes a big deal? Well, they aren’t. It’s the fact that the envelopes were all properly addressed and full of letters to people she knew that she never intended to send. A few sappy ‘thank you’s to old teachers, a couple to her higher-ups including Captain Christopher Pike – the man who told the Kirk siblings to enroll in Star Fleet Academy. These letters would be slightly embarrassing if they got out but nothing (Y/N) couldn’t handle. After all, everything she wrote in them was true and she appreciates everything those people have done for her. There was only one letter in that whole box that worried (Y/N)—her love letter – a detailed love letter – to one Commander Spock. She cursed herself for writing and keeping a love letter in the first place though she didn’t anticipate the whole box would disappear. She tried to think back to earlier to see if she could remember if she moved it, but when she left her room after lunch it was still on the table and she hadn’t returned since.

            “This can’t be happening. It didn’t just sprout legs and walk away!” She said to herself. (Y/N) ran a hand down her face and thought hard. She paused, “No fucking way.” She exited her room at a jog and progressively got faster as she headed toward her brother’s room. She slid to a stop in front of the white door of the captain's quarters and rapidly slammed her fist against it.

            “James, open the door right now!”

The door slid open revealing a perplexed – and slightly afraid – Jim Kirk. He knew he had done something wrong for her to be angry enough to come to his room calling him by his full name. Of course, he had no idea what he had done but he decided it was best to try to start off ahead.

            “Look, I know you’re upset about-“

            “Did you move the white box on my dining room table when you were in my room earlier?”

            “Wait, what? That’s what you’re mad about?” Jim scrunched his face up and scratched the top of his head. (Y/N)’s eyes widened and she briefly looked around the corridor before shoving Jim back into his room and following him in. The door shut with a hiss and (Y/N) closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. When she opened her eyes Jim was staring at her with a confused expression and his hands crossed over his chest.

            “Please, for the love of god, tell me you didn’t mail those letters,” (Y/N) said as calmly as she possibly could. Silence followed her question and she already knew the answer.

            “Well –“

            “Oh. My. God.”

            “There was a box of addressed envelopes on the table so I thought you needed them mailed!”

            “Jim! Why would you mail someone else's letters? Isn’t that, like, illegal or something?” (Y/N) was absolutely freaking out and, for the life of him, Jim couldn’t understand why.

            “I was trying to be nice! I knew you had a long day today and I wanted to take something off your plate! Excuse me for being a good brother,” Jim rolled his eyes at his sister and threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

            “Well, jackass, a good brother would have asked before just taking a box from his sister’s room and now there is a love letter headed to your second in command!”

A long pause followed her statement. Jim blinked once. Twice. Then a prolonged third blink.

            “What?” Jim had no idea what to say. (Y/N) groaned and ran her hands through her hair in frustration. She began to pace in the entryway and ramble about how dumb she was to write it in the first place and how she should have burned the letters when she had the chance. Jim finally shook his head to rouse himself out of his stunned silence.

            “Why the hell would you write a love letter…to Spock? Or to anyone for that matter what is this 1812?” Jim chuckled at his own joke but covered it with a cough when (Y/N) glared at him.

            “I don’t know! I like writing letters and I just started writing one day and it turned into a full blown sappy confession that I had planned to keep hidden till the day I died! Now it’s headed off to the last person in the universe who I wanted to see it.”

            “Well, maybe this isn’t so bad.”

            “I want you to stop talking.”

            “No, I’m serious maybe this is what you two need to stop dancing around the obvious!” Jim gestured vaguely with his hands as (Y/N) ceased her pacing. She sighed and shook her head.

            “Jim, we’ve been over this: Spock does not feel that way about me. And that’s fine!” (Y/N) and her brother had had many conversations about this subject. Always with Jim insisting that the feelings were mutual and (Y/N) denying that Spock would ever even look at her in that way. I’m his best friend’s little sister and his subordinate, she thought, He’s way too professional for that.

            Before Jim could respond, both of their communicators chimed. They were being called back to the bridge for an emergency. They briefly held eye contact before rushing toward the door. As they jogged toward the bridge, (Y/N) continued the conversation.

            “Okay did you just mail them today?”

            “Why are we still talking about this?”

            “Because I want to know how long I have to transfer to another part of the fucking galaxy to avoid embarrassment,” They turned a corner and the lights flickered before flashing red. The ship shuttered and Jim and (Y/N) struggled to regain footing.

            “Is it bad that I’m hoping whatever just happened happened to happen to the mail room?”

            “Yes. And that was way too many uses of the word ‘happened’.”

Six hours and several shots fired later, the trouble was averted. A rogue Klingon battalion had decided to attack the Enterprise while it was stationary and almost destroyed the engines but quick thinking from Jim, (Y/N), Spock, and Sulu had saved the day. (Y/N) was officially beyond exhausted. She was so tired, in fact, that she forgot about the whole letter situation and went straight to bed after the whole debacle was over.

Day 1 of waiting:

She slept blissfully and woke up rested and ready for the day. She had gotten dressed and ready and made her way back to the bridge. Unfortunately, her blissful restfulness was cut short when she laid eyes on a certain Commander and remembered the imminent embarrassment that was bound to ruin her life at some point this week.

            “Good morning, Lieutenant Kirk. You look rested.” Spock greeted her with a nod as he fell in step with her toward the bridge elevator.

            “Uh, yeah, good morning,” (Y/N) managed to only stutter once and she quickly cleared her throat. She shouldn’t be freaking out. They walked together to the bridge all the time. Of course, normally Jim is with them but still, casual meetings with Spock were not entirely out of the ordinary. As they walked, silence filled the space between the two and, to (Y/N), it was suffocating. Something on her face must have given away the fact that something was wrong.

            “Are you feeling alright, Lieutenant?” Spock asked. His face was neutral but he side eyed (Y/N) intensely. Briefly, (Y/N) met his heavy gaze before looking straight ahead.

            “Yup, feeling absolutely terrific!” She couldn’t even believe herself. Spock raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak again but, luckily for (Y/N), he was interrupted.

            “Lieutenant Kirk.” It was Scotty. God bless him! (Y/N) thought.

            “What’s up, Scotty?” Was that the formal way to address him? No. But (Y/N) just wanted to get out of speaking with Spock one-on-one.

            “I need to speak to you. There are some issues with a few of the privates stationed in the engine room and I could use your help to resolve the issue before I throw some people out of the airlock!” His accent was strong with annoyance and (Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle.

            “Sure thing,” She turned to Spock who had paused beside her, “You go on to the bridge, I’ll be in the engine room if you need me in the meantime.” Without waiting for an answer, (Y/N) hurried toward the engine room leaving Scotty to trail behind.

Day 2 of waiting:

            It was only the second day, and Spock had already caught on to the fact that (Y/N) was avoiding him. (Y/N) knew it was not going to be easy to allude him while also keeping it a secret that she was doing it on purpose, after all – Spock isn’t an idiot and (Y/N) is anything but subtle. Spock and (Y/N) had a routine and of course in an effort to not speak to him (Y/N) had changed it so that she was usually off the bridge when Spock was there and vice versa.

            “Lieutenant Kirk you are needed on the bridge,” Chekov’s thick accent crackled through (Y/N)’s communicator and she sighed. She knew Spock would be there which is why she was currently in the engine room recalibrating the warp drive. It was busy work that she normally wouldn’t do but anything to avoid the impending embarrassment.

            “On my way.”

            When she arrived, Spock immediately shifted his gaze from his work to her. (Y/N) briefly met his gaze before walking toward her brother who was seated in his chair with his legs thrown over the armrest. She rolled her eyes.

            “What do you want, Jim?”

            “That’s no way to address your captain, Lieutenant,” Jim had a smug smile on his face – as usual – and it took everything in (Y/N) not to smack him on the back of his head.

            “Tell me what you want or I’m leaving. I was working, unlike some people,” She scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into her hip.

            “Okay, I am sending you and Spock on a mission,” Jim’s smirk got wider as he noticed his sister’s eye twitch in annoyance. “The planet we’re coming up on is supposed to be abandoned but there should be evidence of a previous civilization. I figured with your archeological knowledge and Spock’s general smart-assery you two would fit the job perfectly.”

(Y/N) took a deep breath in through her nose as she glared at Jim. She sneaked a glance at Spock.

He was listening in on the conversation – an action he deemed logical since it also pertained to him. His eyes were focused on the screen in front of him but he could see (Y/N) from the corner of his eye. He noticed her normally relaxed state was exchanged for tensed shoulders and a glowering expression. Whatever had been going on yesterday had most certainly carried into today. He thought. (Y/N) Kirk was one of his closest friends just as James Kirk was. Though many things that the younger Kirk did were illogical and not well thought out, she knew how to get the results she wanted and always figured out a way for everyone to be happy or at least safe. Spock enjoyed her company even more than he enjoyed her brother’s. She was smart, kind, and usually quiet if it was just the two of them. She was a challenging chess opponent and someone dear to his heart. Not that he would say that to her.

(Y/N) sighed, “Okay. When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. We’ll be in the atmosphere at around 12 o’clock Earth time so you’ve got plenty of time to research and prepare. Why don’t you and Spock take the rest of the day for whatever nerd stuff you need to do,” Jim waved his sister off before getting up and leaving the bridge. (Y/N) glared at his back as he left before begrudgingly walking over to Spock.

“Hey, Spock,” she said. Her eyes were focused on the ground rather than up at the Vulcan who was looking at her intently. (Y/N) took a breath in through her nose before finally lifting her gaze to meet Spock’s, “Let’s go get some lunch and we can talk about the mission.”

Before the Vulcan had the chance to respond, (Y/N) quickly turned on her hell and started walking toward the elevator. Spock easily caught up to her before the doors closed and as the elevator began to descend, Spock spoke up.

“(Y/N), are you feeling ill?” Spock dropped the formalities and asked straight out. (Y/N) lifted an eyebrow and looked at her Commander with a curious gaze.

“No, I’m fine. Why do you ask?” This was a stupid question, (Y/N) realized. Her behavior was at best erratic and clearly intentional so it was only logical for Spock to know something was wrong. She did breathe an internal sigh of relief knowing that Spock hadn’t received the letter, otherwise, she was sure he would have confronted her by now – mutual feelings or not.

“You’ve been acting strange for the last couple of days. I want to be sure that your behavior will not negatively affect your performance on this mission.”

(Y/N) fought the urge to roll her eyes as the elevator doors hissed open. Of course. She thought. He’s only worried about this dumb mission my dumb brother is sending us on to torture me.

“I am also worried about your well-being, Lieutenant.” Spock’s surprising sentiment almost made (Y/N) trip on her own foot. She cleared her throat and shrugged her shoulders as they turned the corner of the hallway.

“I promise, I’m okay. Just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Ah, yes, the letter.”

(Y/N) swore her heart stopped right there in the hallway. She hesitantly looked at Spock, trying her best to keep her expression as neutral as his. She didn't know how to respond I could play dumb, she mused, but he’s too smart for that to work. The man knows my handwriting so it would be impossible for me to deny that I wrote it. She took a deep breath through her nose, Fuck it.

“Yeah, actually that is what’s on my mind. And honestly, I had hoped I could just ignore the problem but I should have known that wouldn’t work with you.” (Y/N) rambled.

“Why would this be a problem?” Spock tilted his head slightly and furrowed his eyebrows, something that (Y/N) found impossible endearing.

“It could ruin things! In so many ways!” By now, (Y/N) was pacing the hallway and Spock was more confused than ever. “You’re my superior officer and I just sent a love letter to you! Of course, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to send it that would be my genius brother. But I was dumb enough to leave the box out and allow him into my room! But I mean, who mails other people’s letters without asking? What was he even thinking?”

“(Y/N) –“

“I’m so sorry! I seriously didn’t mean to tell you like this and if I’m honest, I didn’t intend on telling you at all! My feelings were supposed to be kept to myself! Well, to myself and Jim but he’s a nosey bastard who obviously can’t mind his business! I don't know why I tell him anything and honestly, I wish he’d just – “

“(Y/N).” Spock, tired of listening to her pointlessly rambling on about how annoying her brother is – a fact he knew to be true – grabbed her gently by the shoulder to get her to stop pacing. Now that she wasn’t speaking and instead was staring up at him like a kicked puppy waiting to be scolded his mind went blank. Spock was officially at a loss for words. “I was talking about the letter of promotion Admiral Pike sent you. About the head of engineering position.”

She wanted to disappear. Perhaps if she willed it hard enough, she could fade from existence on the spot. For once, it was running her own mouth that got her in trouble instead of her brother’s. (Y/N) tried to read Spock’s expression but couldn’t and that sent even more anxiety straight to her gut.

“Oh.” That was all she managed to say. She quickly regained her wits, “Then just forget everything I said and we can just go back to normal!” She let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like a cry and started to walk in the direction of the cafeteria. However, Spock hadn’t let go of her shoulder and as she walked away his grip slipped from her shoulder down to her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“Wait.” That was all he managed to say. His mind was still reeling trying to decipher her quick words. A love letter. He thought. She loves me? He couldn’t believe it. “You love me?”

Despite her distraught state, she had to admit she had never seen Spock looking so dumbfounded, as if what she said was something he had never thought of in any scenario. His hand still held hers firmly and he gently pulled her back towards him. “You love me.” He said again, though this time it seemed as though he was finally understanding the situation.

“Okay, Spock, you’re starting to sound like a broken record, and the record is titled Hurting (Y/N)’s Feelings.” She chuckled only to keep herself from bursting into tears out of sheer embarrassment. This was the moment she was dreading. The absolute end of a friendship and a lifetime of shame. I’ll have to go into exile. Maybe I’ll ask Scotty to throw me out of the airlock. She thought. Just as she was about to speak again, Spock dropped her hand turned on his heel, and headed back in the direction they came from. That was when the damn broke and (Y/N)’s eyes welled up with hot tears. Blinking rapidly, she haphazardly looked around the hallway to make sure no one saw her before jetting away in the direction of her room.

“You left her in the hallway?” Jim was on the verge of shouting. He was absolutely flabbergasted at Spock’s behavior. Spock rolled his eyes.

“I was unsure of what I was supposed to do.”

“So you decided to leave my baby sister in the hallway, by herself, after basically confessing her undying love for you.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Trust me, I am not.” Jim ran a hand through his hair and huffed out an annoyed sigh. He paced back and forth, a habit that Spock noticed the siblings share, before looking back at his second in command. “Okay, you have to go after her.”

Spock knew this. It was obviously the most logical course of action. There was only one problem: “What am I supposed to say to her?”

“Apologize for rudely walking away, first off. Then – and this is just a spitball idea – tell her you feel the same!”

Jim was actually convinced that Spock’s brain had short-circuited. Spock wasn’t firing on all cylinders because if he was, he would understand the logical thing to do. Secretly, Jim was happy this situation happened. He had been trying to the Spock and his sister together for months now but he found the process to be similar to cutting a tree down with a blunt axe.

“Beginning a relationship with Lieutenant Kirk would violate –“

“Not if she accepts the promotion.”

“She’d still be my subordinate!”

“Only in the same way Scotty is our subordinate! He only has to listen to us sometimes.”

“That is not how the ranking system works.”

“Who cares?” Jim was tired of arguing with Spock over something that seemed so obvious. Spock felt the same way. “Listen, if you don’t want to tell her you have feelings for her I can’t make you. What I can tell you is that no matter what you do the sentence needs to start with I’m sorry and end with something nice. Turn off the Vulcan side for a change, not everything you do has to be completely logical. Sometimes we just need to do things that we want.”

It must have been a strange sight. The commanding officer of the USS Enterprise stood stiffly in front of (Y/N)’s quarters. He was still trying to figure out what exact words he needed to say and he had taken to scratching at his cuticles out of nervousness. I should not just be standing here. He thought. Shaking his head and finally lifting his clenched fist, he knocked twice. Panic briefly set into his veins as he realized he was actually going to have to talk to (Y/N). A cold shiver ran up his spine as the door’s airlock hissed open and revealed (Y/N) on the other side. He could tell she had been crying, though the tears seemed to be mostly dry by now. Her red-rimmed eyes lightly glared up at him and she crossed her arms tightly over her body.

“Can I help you?” Her voice was scratchy and her words were punctuated by a sniffle. Spock felt an ache deep in his gut from knowing he had made her feel this way.

“I-“ He paused. Once again he was speechless but he was determined to make this right. “I apologized for the way I behaved. Leaving you there after such an important moment was not the right thing to do and I am sorry for hurting you.” Even as he did his best to keep his tone even he couldn’t help the slight waver in his voice.

“It’s alright, Spock. Honest. I’ll be okay and ready for the mission tomorrow. Like I said we can just go back to normal and forget about it.” She was offering him an out. He knew he could easily just take it and go but part of him, a large part of him refused to give up that easily.

“No.”

“What?”

“I do not wish to return to normal.”

“Oh.” (Y/N) believed this to be the final moment of friendship. He wanted nothing to do with her anymore. “Um, okay. I guess you can just do the mission alone or ask my brother to –“

“You misunderstand. I do not want to return to normal because I reciprocate your feelings of affection.”

Oh. (Y/N) thought. A moment of silence passed between them. Spock watched (Y/N)’s face for any sign of emotion but she seemed frozen. He wouldn’t lie, she thought. Vulcans don’t lie. “You do?” her voice was quieter than she intended, almost a whisper.

Spock took her hand in his larger one. “Of course I do. I believe an adequate way to put it would be you have bewitched me, body and soul.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the giggle, “So you do listen when I talk about Jane Austin. I thought you found romance novels illogical.”

“Everything about you is illogical, but that is one of the many things I find alluring about you.” They both smiled. (Y/N) had only seen Spock actually smile a few times and each time it was like new life had filled her lungs but this time it was even better knowing that the smile was put there solely for her. And this time, she couldn’t stop herself from kissing that smile even if she tried.

[kenposting]

Baseline

Summary: You're a Blade Runner paired to work with Officer K. You both sense a bizarre shift lately. Something is wrong.

WC: 3.6k

AN: I literally have Ryan Gosling brainrot right now and I've loved this movie for years.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀✩⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

If there was one thing the two of you could agree on, its that something was wrong. Different. Broken. Whatever it was, something was wrong. 

He felt like a deterrent when you first met him. Someone assigned him alongside you a few months back. Being a Blade Runner at your stature had proven to be more difficult than anyone higher up had expected, and instead of retiring all the smaller, female models, they decided to just force you into this bizarre co-op with the other older Nexus-9s. 

And that’s what happened. You were assigned a partner, and therefore, a roommate as well. You found him to be a nuisance at first. You were perfectly fine doing your job on your own. This safety precaution was unnecessary, and you believed that wholeheartedly, until you saw the case photos of your model. 

It was brutal. Fueled by hatred. You had never ran into any real trouble, but these were your colleagues, retired before they had a chance to call for assistance. 

You began to be grateful he was around. The two of you argued constantly, but you did feel a lot safer. He was larger than you by a lot, and much broader in stature, but he didn’t scare you. Nothing did. 

Until now. You only barely understood what was going on when you compared it to human data. It seemed to be closest to fear, or perhaps anxiety. You never had a feeling before. Neither had he. 

Something was wrong. You just couldn’t shake it. Even thinking that way was bizarre, as it had nothing to do with programming or  logistics. The thought was pointless – unless it began to effect your work. And it had. 

“Do you know why the two of you are in here today?” 

Lieutenant Joshi was the superior to the both of you, a higher ranking member of the Retirement Division of the LAPD. You had never really minded her, but you knew something negative was present in the way she spoke. She was human, and you were built to analyze and understand the humanness within her. She was scared and confused. 

“No, Madam.” 

He answered for the both of you, something he often does. That was part of his job since the placement. He’s there to make sure you’re protected, even if it's something small. 

She looked at you. You shook your head. She sucked on her teeth, visibly upset. 

“Neither of you are even close to baseline.” 

Another bizarre sensation crept over your shoulders and sank into your abdomen. A feeling. You didn’t like it – which was another feeling, in and of itself. 

“What the fuck is going on?” 

She was upset now. You tried your best to comprehend it but you couldn’t. 

“Ever since we put the two of you together your retiring alone takes longer than usual, you aren’t preforming how you’re supposed to, you respond in inadequate ways, I mean, what is the problem?” She paused, collecting herself. “You only perform how you’re meant to when you’re together.” 

She looked at Officer K. She was speaking mostly to him. After all, he was the only one doing his job alone anymore. You were only allowed to work when he was around, and you performed fine. It was when you weren’t working… That’s where the problems were. You actually preferred his company to your own. You didn’t understand this. 

“I’m going to give you both an option.” She looked sternly between the two of you. “I’m going to retest you, right now. One of you will naturally preform better than the other. Whoever is closest to baseline will retire the other.” 

“You can take me, Madam.” 

His voice sounded different now. Still very monotone, but laced with urgency, like the thought of retiring you impeded on his natural task of protecting you. 

She scoffed. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, what is wrong with you?” She sighed, shaking it off and leaving the meeting room. You followed K into the testing area. Familiar. Uncomfortable. Something loomed over you. 

There were two white chairs. You and Officer K shifted to face one another. He looked into you. You looked back. 

“Officer K D 6 dash 3 dot 7,” A voice read off his name, followed by yours. “Let’s begin. Ready?” 

“Yes, sir.”

Again, he answered for the both of you. 

“Recite your baseline.” 

The two of you spoke immediately, like a second nature, programmed into the basic essence of your coding. You didn’t have to think or process. You knew what to do, so you did it. 

“And blood-black nothingness began to spin, a system of cells interlinked within cells interlinked within cells interlinked within one stem, and dreadfully distinct against the dark, tall white fountain played–” 

“Cells.” 

“Cells.”

The two of you responded back, your voices synced to one another. Your eyes darted all around his face, searching for a sign that he was performing well. You hoped he was. Another foreign feeling, hope. Why did you hope for his success? 

“Have you ever been in an institution? Cells.” 

“Cells.” 

His eyes never averted from your gaze. There was something foreign to you there. Something you presumed would be described as comforting. 

“Do they keep you in a cell? Cells.” 

“Cells.” 

“When you’re not performing your duties do they keep you in a little box? Cells.” 

“Cells.” 

“Interlinked.” 

“Interlinked.” 

“What’s it like to hold the hand of someone you love? Interlinked.” 

K’s face flashed before your mind at this question. You wished you also knew what was going on, but you didn’t. Something was wrong. You remembered his hand accidentally brushing against yours a few weeks prior. That’s when all of this began. You were going to be retired. You could feel it. 

“Interlinked.” 

Officer K looked over your face, a mechanical whirring at the speed of his shifting eyes. Truthfully, he felt the same way. He was going to be retired. He could feel it. 

“Did they teach you how to feel finger to finger? Interlinked.” 

“Interlinked.” 

“Do you long for having your heart interlinked? Interlinked.” 

You could’ve sworn you detected movement in K’s lips. A slight smile. Something you had never seen before in a Replicant. Something you had never done before. His eyes softened.

“Interlinked.” 

“Do you dream about being interlinked? Interlinked.” 

“Interlinked.” 

“What’s it like to hold your child in your arms? Interlinked.” 

“Interlinked.” 

“Do you feel that there’s a part of you that’s missing? Interlinked.” 

“Interlinked.” 

Sometimes you did think things like that, but they didn’t make any sense. It was like a buffering within you.

“Within cells interlinked.” 

“Within cells interlinked.” 

“Why don’t you say that three times, within cells interlinked.” 

“Within cells interlinked. Within cells interlinked. Within cells interlinked.” 

A silence fell over the white room, and again, fear crept in, or what you could only assume was fear. His eyes still hadn’t left yours. 

“Officers, do you have anything more to say?” 

The voice nearly startled you, further showing you that something was very wrong. You aren’t in any imminent danger, so why were you responding like you were? 

“No, sir.” 

You wondered if you’d ever have to answer for yourself again. 

He stood, his movement encouraging you to stand as well. You often followed his every move. His height never ceased to amaze you. You wondered why they built him so tall, yet programmed him so meekly. He didn’t naturally intimidate you. He didn't naturally intimidate anyone. He just did his job and went on his way. 

You followed him into the room you had both been in previously. Lieutenant Joshi was sat back at the table holding a sheet of data. She analyzed it much slower than either of you could. 

Officer K pulled out a chair and waited for you to have a seat. Part of his task. He sat beside you. 

Her eyes looked up, shifting between the two of you with a clicking motion. She was searching for something, but she wasn’t going to find it. There's nothing there to find.

“Do either of you have any comments, Officers?” 

You looked at K. 

“I hope I did worse than her.” 

She rolled her eyes, frustrated at his malfunctioning. She couldn’t gather a response, so she resorted to sliding the paper in front of the both of you. 

100% accuracy. A perfect score. The highest either of you had ever gotten to baseline. 

You looked up at her. She remained searching, beginning to say something before sighing, abandoning the thought all together. 

Officer K’s jaw tightened beside you. 

“Do either of you have anything to say for yourselves?” 

You looked at him, then her. You didn’t have any previous data on any of this. It was rare for you to have an uninspired thought, but your software had been updated to the highest functioning and you figured only one explanation would make sense. 

“We’re interlinked, Madam.” 

She was quiet for a moment, blinking. 

“It appears so.” 

Silence fell over the room for several minutes. K sat much taller than you. He felt much more powerful than you in this moment. Even now, you were glad to have him around. 

“We should really just retire both of you, but we’ve never seen this kind of score. I need to speak to some colleagues and I’ll have you report back here in the following days. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Madam.” 

The two of you spoke in sync. Interlinked. 

The drive home was quiet, but pleasant. Both of you thought you’d be retired before sundown, so the bleak landscape appeared a bit more welcoming than usual. You didn’t particularly enjoy the world, but you did enjoy being around K. 

The walk to your building was always the worst. The people outside felt like one large organism, moving and speaking all at once, an amalgamation of bodies, neon lights reflecting against the rain droplets hitting the ground. It was hard to take in so many small happenings at the same time. He knew this about you, picking up on the shifts in your face when you stepped out into the night. He placed a gloved hand on the small of your back, leading you. Afterall, part of his task was to enure your safety, and he wanted you to know he was looking out for you. He liked doing a good job for you. He feels something when you thank him for it.

“Hey, A boy!” 

Moans and expletives swam through your ears. This scene was ever present. Every single night on your way home, you passed this part of town. Before Officer K was assigned to you it was much scarier. People would grab at you and pull you towards different dark buildings and corners of street. Replicant and human alike, both took advantage of your size. 

You always ignored it, programmed to move forward, but something felt different this time. 

The girls touched him, eyeing him up and down, walking alongside the both of you, looking at you. 

“Wanna come see what a real girl feels like?”  

He didn't react. He never did, actually. One of the girls showed a change in her expression, cautioning the others, mentioning his job. The words she spoke relieved you. You didn’t mind the insult, you just didn’t want him to leave you. It was scary out here. Everyone towered over you, even the girls. 

The girls dismissed her warning, giggling, grabbing onto him further. Your pace quickened. So did his. You reached the stairs outside of your building and he stepped aside, letting you go ahead of him. 

“We’re always here!” 

They were always there. They had been built for pleasure. Sexual consumerism. It confused you, really. You didn’t understand the appeal, but it seemed like everyone else did. K didn't get it either.

He followed closely behind you up the steps. The flights went on for ages. People lingered there, littering the tight area, continuing to yell at the two of you. K kept a close watch for anyone grabbing for you, though. He wouldn’t let it happed again. 

He opened the door to your apartment, holding it wide for you to walk in. Someone spat in your direction. He closed his eyes. It was like he was convincing himself not to react. He never had to do that before. The droning lull of the people made you feel anxious again, like you really were in danger. He shut the door behind you, the thick lock clunking shut. 

Your apartment was safe, like a homebase. No one could attack you here. You watched as K hanged his coat on the back of the door, heavy and weighed down. He looked different. Relieved. Softer. Pleased to see you. 

“Are you hungry?” 

You thought for a moment, considering when the last time you ate was. There was am artificial aching in your abdomen. 

“Yes.” 

He nodded, stepping a foot into the kitchen. This place was so small. After all, Blade Runners don’t really deserve comfort. They didn’t need it. They couldn’t feel it. But you did. You had to accept it, it was only logical. You felt the place was small, and that meant you could feel. 

K made the same thing you both ate every night. Noodles. You hated them – another feeling – but you liked spending time with him. It was sweet, the ways he chose to serve you.

He looked down into his bowl. He wasn’t eating. Something was different about him. 

“K? Is everything alright?” 

He looked up at you, meeting your gaze. He searched you, but found no answers. 

“I don’t know. I know that I’m supposed to know. But I don’t. And that means something is wrong.” 

You nodded. You felt immense comfort at his answer. He felt the same. At realizing this, a secondary thought entered your mind: he must need to be comforted as well. You thought back to your Joi, sat somewhere in a drawer for weeks now, collecting dust. You found it odd to use it around him, and he thought the same, but you remembered what went on when you did use it. You retraced all the humans you had came across in your mind, all films you had seen. You knew how they all comforted one another. You wanted to try for him. This was perhaps the most bizarre feeling of all. 

Neither of you were real, just programmed to be as human-like as technology currently allowed. So really, what’s the harm in this? You couldn’t have feelings for something real, but he wasn’t real either, so no harm no foul. 

“I feel the same way. I feel, I mean. I don’t like it either.” 

You tried your best to put it into words.

He nodded, shifting, like he had turned something off inside of him. You had frightened him. He thought he was just malfunctioning, and the only other option is that the two of you were both feeling something very real and new and unlikely. That was frightening. Something was wrong. 

His jaw tightened as he stood from the table, grabbing his bowl and stepping toward the kitchen. 

You sat there alone at the table for a long time. You felt something different now, something new. You didn’t recognize it; it hadn’t been taught to you. Loneliness, perhaps. Or regret. A feeling that you had said something you wished you hadn’t. 

A heavy hand rested on your shoulder, awakening you from your trance. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but the orange glow of the city had drifted into a deep aqua color. Night had fallen. 

“I don’t know what’s going on.” 

His voice was different. Softer than before, like every moment he became gentler and… more... human. 

You hummed in agreement. You didn’t know either. He reached his hand out and you took it, following him a few feet to your small bathroom. A soft glow came from behind the doorframe. 

His steps were heavy as he lead you forward. Your eyes shifted, taking in the scene. 

He had ran you a bath, something you didn’t even realize you possessed in this small space. There were candles lit alongside the edge of the porcelain. You were sure you didn’t own any candles. 

“I saw this in a film once…” His voice trailed off, like he didn’t know what else to say. He was almost shy about it. 

You stepped forward. A new smell filled the room. Something fresh. 

“Its lavender. I took some from the last Nexus-8 I retired. I know that’s not very romantic.” 

Romantic? Was he trying to be romantic? Why was he trying to be romantic? 

“And the candles?” 

His constant blank stare shifted into a sheepish, subtle, barely-noticeable smile. But you noticed. It was just a change in data, after all. 

“I bought them yesterday. I saw them downtown and I thought of you. I’m not sure why.” 

Whatever you had been feeling before was miniscule compared to what you feel now. An ache in your chest and browline, sharp and sudden. A tear fell from your right eye. Something was definitely wrong. 

This world was just… so sad. Fallen. Broken. Corrupted. Evil. Lost. So many things. And especially for you. You felt selfish for feeling this way at all; you weren’t a human that had everything ripped away from you, you weren’t even real. But your memories were real to you, and this was real to you too. No one had ever gone out of their way to think of you before. Everything before your assignment with Officer K was rigid and impersonal, but he wasn’t like that, and neither of you knew why. 

You stepped forward, keeping his hand in yours, leading him into the small space with you. It would be snug, but both of you could fit. 

You followed your normal routine, removing each article of clothing as to not get them wet. His torso was laced with cuts and bruising. Again, the sight of it made you feel something. 

He sank into the water first, still holding your hand, blankly looking forward at the tile on the wall. You followed after him, laying against his chest. This was nice, but also very weird. What were you meant to do now? You were grateful for the gesture. The warm water was a stark contrast to the cold world you both lived in. The last few weeks you realized you hated being a Blade Runner, and in hindsight, he must've felt the same. Underappreciated. Unimportant. Cold. False. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Thank you for inviting me in.” 

You both sat there for a long time. His hand held onto you gently, like you were in danger. Part of his task. You liked this, but in every film you’ve seen, its followed by much more interesting activities. A curiosity crept inside you. There’s so much you’ve began to be able to feel and think and see. You couldn’t help but feel like this was only the beginning. “This was very kind of you, K. I hope you know that.” 

You felt him nod behind you, dismissive. 

“I appreciate you letting me work alongside you. I know you didn’t like it at first, but you’ve always been very nice to me. Thank you for that.” 

You felt like crying again. This world really did blow for the two of you, didn’t it? 

“I’d like to lay down now.” 

He nodded again, waiting for you to stand before standing himself. He got you a towel. He didn’t have to do that. It had nothing to do with your safety. That wasn’t an assigned task, that was a choice. 

“Thank you.” 

He nodded, careful not to look you over too much. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

As you dried yourself, he left the small bathroom. You quickly got dressed, searching around for him. He was sat on the couch staring blankly ahead. 

You made your way over to him, sitting beside him. You placed a hand on his arm and sat up to gently kiss his cheek, something you’d done with Joi before and something you’d seen in many movies. Even humans would do this downtown, you’d seen it before. 

He looked at you. 

“You kissed me. I don’t understand.” 

“I don’t either. I felt like doing it. I think it’s supposed to make people feel better and you look like you don’t feel well.” 

He looked at you. Nothing had ever made him react this way. He no longer wanted to just be a consumer of pleasure. Joi and the like didn’t interest him anymore. He wanted to show you something. He didn’t understand it yet, but he was made in the likeness of a human, and perhaps this was part of that. It would be different if he felt something for a human – unfair almost. He couldn’t provide them with the things they would need. He just didn’t have it in him. But you? You were like him. Just like him. The same. Cells, interlinked. 

He watched as you placed your hand atop his. It was so tiny in comparison. He didn’t recognize this sensation, but he felt an urge to take care of you, to give you anything you asked for. More than his assigned task. He wanted to, even if he didn’t have to. He took pleasure in it, actually. 

You were real to him; as real as he was. He wanted to take care of you. He also hated being a Blade Runner, and he knew you must have it so much harder. The board even assigned you a partner out of sheer fear you’d be brutally beaten into retirement just for existing, not to mention the humans and replicants that used your model for pleasure. He didn’t like that, and he didn’t want that. He wanted something different and it didn’t make sense to him. 

The act seemed almost the same. The same positions, the same words being said, the same sequence of events. People kissing, then laying down together, all of that. But sometimes something was different. He thought of the ads around town, how they appeared to him. He compared it to the books he had to read on the human condition. Something was different. One was about lust, and one was about love. He thought the latter more closely related to what he felt for you. 

“I’m okay, just thinking.” 

You looked up at his scarred face, bruised from the last job. There was something heavy on his mind. You wanted to help him with that. You didn’t know how, but you wanted to try for him. Afterall, the two of you performed great at work when you were together. Maybe you’d perform great at home too. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀✩⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[measuredingold]

now our tongues are tied

authors note: this is something i've been sitting on for a week or so, hence why it's so short, but i've done nothing but listen to this playlist (thank you @throwingmetothelions for my life) and the first song has become my favorite. for some reason i could not get this imagine out of my head every time i listened to gooey 🫠 anyways, as always i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated! my requests are closed for the time being so i can get caught up on the ones i decide to do and so i can work on chap 4 of to be in love and to be loved :)

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 945

cw/tags: slight realization of ~feelings~, fingering, cunnilingus, basically porn w/o plot but like there could be plot if you squinted, 18+ minors do not interact

Nicholas thinks for a split second that this might be his favorite place in the entire world.

Lips brushing against lips, soft puffs of air between the two of you, his hand sliding to the back of your head to gently tangle into your hair... The noise you let out has his cocking aching, jeans tightening as he finally presses his lips to yours, and groans from deep inside his chest. You drive him fucking crazy.

It was supposed to be a casual thing, you and him. A friend of a friend, met a few years ago when he was home from tour. It started out as just friends, seriously, but he never missed the way your eyes would linger on him for a beat too long, the way you'd hug him just a little longer than a friend of a friend should. He tried not to think too hard about it, because sometimes he got in his head and looked far into things when he shouldn't. That all came to an end, though, about a year later when he had you pressed between him and the wall, lips attached to your neck with a hand down your pants.

Then it just... kept happening.

Whenever he was home from tour, he'd come see you. Sometimes you'd drive to the closest city he was in to see him. All casual. Just hooking up - helping each other out. At least, that's what he likes to tell himself.

He’s always been a shitty liar, though.

The whine you let out against his lips has him shaking, his grip on your hair tightening as his lips slide over yours before trailing down, kissing wherever he could against your skin. He shifts the two of you, leaning you back against the couch and easily placing himself in between your thighs.

He lightly grazes his teeth against the spot against your neck that he knows gets you going, and he can tell because you're arching into him again, a moan now slipping from your lips. Nicholas thinks he'd never get enough of you and the way you react to his touch, the way your back arches and press your body closer to his. You were addicting.

He doesn't stop trailing his lips down your body, hands coming down to push your shirt up to kiss along the plains of your skin, relishing in the way you gasped as his fingers worked steadily on your zipper, hooking into the loops of your jeans to pull them down. You lift your hips up automatically, already knowing the drill, and something inside Nicholas swirls with pride. He doesn’t even have to ask you and you already know. 

Your underwear follows, clothes discarded somewhere on the floor and Nicholas readjusts himself in between your legs until he’s face to face with your exposed center. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of how wet you are, all for him, and he wastes no time in leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your slick covered folds. 

You keen, back arching off the couch already and he lifts his gaze to you. You’re already looking at him, brows pinched together, and bottom lip clenched between your teeth he’s sure you’re about to break skin. He doesn’t break eye contact, going by memory as he used two fingers to spread your folds and flick his tongue over your swollen clit. He watched the way your face contorts, the pinch between your brows vanishing and your mouth dropping open.

Fingers tangled in his hair, you press his face closer to you as he swirls his tongue around, and he slides a finger inside of your aching cunt. You clench around his digit and his eyes flutter shut, groaning around your clit as he slowly began to pump his finger inside of you. 

“Nick.” You breathe out before it was followed by a moan. “Fuck. Don’t stop, baby.”

He loves when you say his name, all fucked out and pretty. It’s one of his favorite sounds, he thinks. He’ll never get over it.

You push your hips down to meet the curl of his finger and he takes this as an invitation to slide in a second one, slowly, tongue swirling around your clit as he eases into you. You tug at his hair, pulling hard, and Nicholas can’t help but moan against you. He curls his fingers, angling them in the way he knows you like, and you shout above him, back arching off the couch.

“Come on,” He pulls away briefly, turning his head to press open mouthed kisses against your thigh. “Give it to me, sweetheart.”

With a few more pumps of his fingers and his lips wrapping back around your aching clit, it doesn’t take long until you’re crying out his name, fingers gripping his hair so tightly that it’s damn near painful. He doesn’t let up, lapping at your center and taking everything he can get from you. You have to physically push him off of you, your legs shaking around him as you become too sensitive to the touch.

He meets you halfway, lips crashing against each other, all teeth and tongue. He hears you moan against him, probably tasting yourself on his mouth, and you’re hastily sliding your hands down his body. He helps your push his jeans and boxers down in one go, just to his thighs, because he can barely fucking wait to get inside of you.

And when he finally is, forehead pressed against yours as you whine against his lips, he decides he’s finally done lying to himself and that this is his favorite place in the entire world.

[songmingisthighs]

[15:38] hongjoong × reader (fr. xikers minjae)

⇀ hongjoong loves the fact that his juniors are getting the recognition they deserve. just not like this.

⇁ it's fine. really. so fine. abso-tively fine. fucking fantastic even

"Ah, shit,"

Hongjoong scrambled up as he hastily saved the file of work he was doing for the past... four hours. He remembered you coming to take him for a walk or coffee around three hours ago, saying that he needed to see something other than the blue light emitted from his computer's screen. Of course, in a true Kim Hongjoong fashion, he said "yes" which was followed by "but let me finish this tiny part first" and of course, in a true (y/n) fashion, being impossibly in love with the man, you agreed and sat down on the couch behind him, waiting.

Now, three hours later, Hongjoong realized that you were no longer even in the room and that was when he decided to panic. Hands moving in the speed of light whilst still trying to be careful so he wouldn't knock anything off of his desk or worse, onto his computer. Whilst his file was saving into his computer (in a speed that was oddly longer than usual), Hongjoong tried calling you to know your whereabouts and to prepare the length of apology he might need to do in case you were pissed at him. But unfortunately for him, you weren't answering your phone nor seeing his texts which made him think the worst case scenario. You had gone home because he was being inconsiderate.

Praying that his files would complete its saving progress, Hongjoong took his keys, AirPods, and wallet off the desk and shoved them down his pocket and immediately exit his office to go find you.

Much to his surprise, however, he was met with the sight of you in the communal area of the production office with Joy, Maddox's dog, in your lap. You were cooing at the puppy as you rubbed her furry belly, tummy up on your lap, panting happily and even making eye contact with Hongjoong as if she was taunting him over the attention you were giving her.

"Lucky bitch," Hongjoong grumbled under his breath. Despite the remark, he wasn't really pissed whatsoever, not at anything and especially not at the dog, as he was honestly just glad to see that you hadn't left the building. Which means that there was a chance that you weren't mad whatsoever especially with Joy in your lap. Hongjoong was in the safe zone this time it seems. So knowing that your mood will be all happy and positive since you had the adorable canine in your lap, Hongjoong figured that he can be just as cute and butter you up, saying all the right things and within no time you'd be feeding him pasta.

However, just as Hongjoong was about to join you, he heard footsteps coming closer in a jogging pace, and soon a figure emerged, grinning brightly in his oversized hoodie with something in his hands. "Noona, I found her snacks!" Minjae grinned widely, plopping down on the floor in front of you as he opened the packaging of the dog biscuit happily. Maybe it was Hongjoong's jealousy creeping, but he could almost see puppy ears and tail on Minjae, wagging happily next to you as if basking in your attention. But it was probably nothing and he was just overanalyzing because he had been feeling bad for working when he was supposed to be doing something with you. What made the vein in Hongjoong's forehead almost pop, however, was when you cooed and patted Minjae on top of his head like he was a puppy himself. "Good job, Minjae! You're such a good boy!" And you even complimented him like a puppy, what even is that!?

"Noona," Minjae whined, face blushing as his arms half-heartedly tried to brush your hands away from him, "Don't pet me like a dog!" He pouted, averting his eyes shyly to focus on Joy who he had began feeding. "Aw boo, how can I not, Minjae? You're the most adorable leader I've ever known,"

And that was it.

"Hey!" Hongjoong plopped right next to you, his left arm draping over your shoulder with a huge (creepy) grin on his face (that seemed vaguely threatening towards Minjae). "What are you guys doing?" He asked, purposefully planting a big smooch to your cheek (and regretting it as seen from his VERY red face) and then looking straight at Minjae, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be in lessons?" Hongjoong hoped that Minjae would take the hint and scooch away. Far far away and for a long long time. "Oh, I was. But the vocal coach wanted to spend more time with Junmin and Jinsik so I was let out early and I met noona with Joy and I just couldn't help myself!" He grinned. "Of course you couldn't help yourself," Hongjoong muttered under his breath lowly which Minjae didn't caught but you sure did though you pretended like you didn't.

So you decided to have your own little fun.

"Yeah, Minjae was taking care of his members and also me for some reason. Heck, he even helped take care of Joy! Isn't he such a good leader?" You smiled in faux innocence at Hongjoong, clearly wanting to emphasize how good of a leader you think Minjae is. The words made Hongjoong's eye twitch in annoyance and jealousy, not liking that his spot of "favourite leader" in your heart was seemingly threatened by a boy whom he helped mentored. "Yeah... Minjae's an awesome dude, isn't he?" By that point, Hongjoong's smile was strained so hard it seemed like his cheek bones were cramping.

Oblivious to what you two were doing, Minjae looked up with his big innocent eyes and spoke up for himself, "Well, I took a lot of Hongjoong hyung's advice and he took great care of me, so obviously I wanted to return the favour to (y/n) noona!" Though his words were sincere and seemed to praise Hongjoong, the coo and head pats you gave the younger guy only caused Hongjoong's nose to flare as he huffed out a breath.

Luckily, someone (that sounded like Hunter) called for Minjae from the end of the hall and Minjae immediately excused himself. While Hongjoong appreciated the speed, he almost pulled you onto his lap when Minjae gave you a side hug before running off. In Hongjoong's eyes, it felt like Minjae was running off in pure happiness with giddy steps that he got from you and call it the possessive boyfriend and captain in him, but he didn't like that at all. Not one bit.

When Minjae was out of sight, you turned to look at Hongjoong with a grin that was far too smug to his liking. In contrast, Hongjoong was frowning hard that the bottom sides of his lips and the spot between his eyebrows creased in clear annoyance. The both of you stared at each other like that for a while, clearly communicating, saying things without using actual words just by looking at each other. Most of your public communication happened that way as to save yourselves from using words or even having to think about what words to use. It effectively eliminates prolonged argument and you both believed that it was because you just loved each other so much. And you truly do. How else would you both been able to do this?

Finally, giving up, Hongjoong let out a huff before he broke the silence. "Well, you could've said something! And you know, not hang with Minjae? Because I'm the best leader you know, period. I don't care about anything else, I'm the only leader in your heart, okay? You should not be looking at other leaders, heck, you shouldn't even be thinking about other leaders! Because do they have to deal with Wooyoung?? Do they have to deal with Yeosang??? Do they have to deal with literally all five members of 99z along with Seonghwa and Jongho? Because I did and I damn know I did a fantastic job with them! An-" before he could ramble more you had pressed your lips onto his with a giggle, effectively shutting him up as Joy jumped up onto Hongjoong's chest with her tail wagging happily. When you pulled away, Hongjoong's frown has melted and he looked slightly shocked which to you was absolutely adorable. "I'm just hanging with Minjae, Joongie and I said Minjae was the most adorable leader ever, you're my captain, okay? You are my ONLY captain and you're the handsomest, most adorable, and best of the best captain and I love you, okay?" You then stood up with a hand outstretched to him as you hold Joy in your other hand, nodding towards the front door, "Come on, we're taking you out to get you some coffee and Joy some fresh air."

Now happy, Hongjoong gladly took your hand in his, all jealousy melting away as he was finally able to have your attention to himself. Sure, he loves his juniors, but hell will freeze over before he share you with anyone else.

"You can't blame me for liking Minjae though, he's as cute as a button and as determined as a puppy. He reminds me of you slightly."

And there his eye goes, twitching again.

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[whitedarkmoonflower]

Reunited Part 2

Pairing: modern!Sihtric x you (female reader)

Authors note: it all started with the ask, whether I accept modern!Sihtric requests, that left me deeply thoughtful whether I am really up to it. So my dear @sihtricfedaraaahvicius gave me a little push with a challenging fic request that resulted in my very first modern! Sihtric fic. Initially I didn't think of a continuation of the story, but some of you were very insisting and I'm deeply thankful for that. I have decided to make it a bit longer story. So, this interlude is intended to set the scene for the upcoming parts. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Warnings: fluff, quite suggestive on the borderline with getting smutty, heartbreak, abuse of alcohol

Summary: It was supposed to be a short two week trip that turned into five long years apart, just because your best friend couldn't keep her mouth shut. Will the reader and Sihtric manage to repair their broken relationship and find their way back to each other?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word Count: 2,043

Leave a comment if you want to be tagged for the upcoming parts.

Tags: @uunotheangel @jennifer0305 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

"Damn it," Sihtric cursed at himself as he watched the door slam shut behind you. Your sudden appearance, followed by an even more abrupt departure, had left him not only speechless but questioning whether you had been real at all or simply a fevered hallucination conjured by his foggy mind after yesterday's party.

He had undoubtedly had a few drinks too many. Waking up this morning, he couldn't even recall the name of the long-legged, dark-haired beauty he found in his bed.

"Uh, good morning, gorgeous," he greeted the girl nestled against his chest with a hesitant smile. "Oh crap, it's late already, I have to rush to the studio. Just slam the door shut when you leave. I’ll call you tomorrow!” 

This had become his standard exit strategy, and it always did the trick. Most of the time, it wasn't even a lie, as he almost always had photoshoots and studio appointments. Sihtric cautiously freed his hand from beneath the girl and, within the next five minutes, he had donned his trousers and shirt before vanishing through the doors, leaving the long-legged stranger in his bed bewildered. He didn't have her number and had no intention of calling her. He never did.

In the beginning, he was driven by a desperate eagerness to forget. He believed that the only way to heal his shattered heart was to quickly fall in love again as deeply and madly as he had with you. However, as time passed, waking up beside yet another imperfect copy of you only made him crave more for the original. At some point, he stopped deluding himself; there was no one who could replace you, so he stopped searching.

Nonetheless, being a famous and handsome fashion photographer had its side effects. His work ensured he was surrounded by women – beautiful, intelligent, and also compassionate women. There always seemed to be someone who believed they could fix him, even when he had no desire to be fixed. At some point, when once again an unsuccessful attempt to mend him had left yet another self proclaimed angel saviour heartbroken and crying, he had enough. He didn't want it anymore. He was what he was: an irreparably broken wreck, an adrenaline junkie, unable of navigating his emotions and incapable of feeling love and affection. He was just inflicting pain on those foolish enough to get close to him. From that point on, his decision was clear – he didn't do relationships. He was good for a passionate one-night fuck, but nothing more, and after a while everyone seemed to know it and accept it.

—-------------------------------------------

"Oh, honey! You're here! I've missed you so much!" Gisela nearly screamed your head off in joy, as she spotted you on her doorstep. You hadn’t seen each other in real life for all five years, but she had remained your best friend. She had been your rock during your darkest days following the breakup, always just a phone call away, ready to listen or simply be there for you, regardless of the time difference. Gisela was the better half of your soul, your moral compass, the anchor that kept you grounded in the tumultuous sea of life. She offered support and solace when you needed it most, asking for nothing in return.

It came as no surprise that, after your panicked flight from the photo shoot, your first instinct was to seek refuge at your best friend's place.

"Oh my goodness! You look like you've been hit by a freight train," Gisela immediately noticed your devastated state. She grabbed your hand and pulled you into a tight embrace.

"I saw him this morning... I couldn't... I ran away," you sobbed, your tears soaking her fine blouse, emotions pouring out uncontrollably.

"Whom did you see? Oh my god! Sihtric?" Realisation struck Gisela as she led you inside her apartment and settled you on her sofa. "Just wait a moment. I'll make you some tea, and then you can tell me everything," she said, heading to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, hidden from your view, Gisela clutched her head with both hands and began to pace around the small room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did this have to happen?" she cursed to herself. "Couldn't he have just broken his damn neck on one of his insane climbing expeditions? I can't let her go through this again. She won't handle it. And she'll never forgive me if she finds out I'm the real reason behind all this mess."

Gisela had never found the courage to tell you that her direct involvement was the reason for Sihtric's decision to break up with you. Initially, there was no point in revealing it, as you would have rushed back to Sihtric. As time passed and Gisela witnessed how hard it struck you, how much pain you endured, and how long it took for you to start halfway functioning again, she couldn't bring herself to confess that she was unintentionally responsible for all this suffering. She had acted with the best intentions, all she had wanted was for you to follow your dream and be happy. The realisation that her good intentions had led to you becoming a miserable and broken version of yourself, someone who had closed herself up and now distrusted everyone, came far too late. 

With the tea ready and after taking a deep breath, Gisela picked up the tray with cups and sugar and returned to the living room. She was determined to do everything in her power to protect you and to shield you from Sihtric and the damage his reappearance in your life could cause you. Gisela had witnessed Sihtric change, and not for the better. By now, she was convinced that it had been for the best that he had broken up with you all those years ago. You had built a successful career, you were beautiful, independent, and respected. Somewhere out there, your prince charming was undoubtedly waiting for destiny to bring you together. If you had stayed with Sihtric and witnessed him turning into the person he had become – a jerk and a fuckboy – you would have been left with nothing but a broken heart.

"Can you believe it? He just called me 'sweetheart,' as if nothing had happened," several cups of tea later, you had managed to calm yourself to the point where you could finally speak without your words dissolving into incomprehensible sobs.

"He's not worth a single tear of yours," Gisela reassured you, taking a sip from her tea. "Believe me, you don't want anything to do with him. He's been changing girlfriends like underwear. Lately, they don't even last longer than one night. I've heard that some of the fashion houses are considering terminating their contracts with him. In addition to fucking every model hired for the photoshoots, he's started drinking quite heavily. There have been a few times of him arriving at the set in the morning so drunk that the shoots had to be postponed. I have to admit he's got a certain talent, and when he's sober enough to hold his camera steady, his photos are quite amazing. But that doesn't make him a good person. You deserve better. You deserve someone who will love and cherish you, and most importantly, respect you."

Gisela continued to speak about an opening of an art exhibition featuring the works of a promising new painter to be displayed in her gallery for the next two months, and how she wanted you to attend and possibly meet someone, but you weren't really paying attention anymore. 

Nothing Gisela had said about Sihtric aligned with your memories of him. Yes, he was impulsive and daring, but he had also been attentive and gentle. You remembered how sweet and caring he had been, making you feel like a goddess. It all didn't make any sense, but then again, you were a living example of his real attitude. He had replaced you with someone else after just one week apart. Gisela was right; he had been a fuckboy, and he likely still was. You didn't want anything to do with him. Or did you?

"Hey, hey! What planet are you on? You're not listening, are you? No, no, no, don't tell me you were thinking of him. He ruined your life and broke your heart. Have you forgotten already?" Gisela nearly shouted, bringing you back to reality.

"I know exactly what you're thinking," she continued, her face displaying an annoyed grimace.

"What am I thinking?" you scowled at her.

"You were thinking that you could fix him. That if you hadn’t left for that summer course, it might have turned out differently…"

You opened your mouth to protest, but deep down, you knew Gisela wasn't far off from the truth. Even if these thoughts weren't explicit, they lingered in the back of your mind, like a faint, elusive haze, beyond words to explain. What if…

"Don't even think about it. I could assemble an entire soccer team of heartbroken girls who thought they could fix him. Do you really want to go through all of that again?"

You shook your head vehemently. No, you didn't. You wouldn't survive another heartbreak. This was one of the main reasons you had remained single over the last five years. You hadn't allowed anyone to get close enough even for the possibility of a relationship. It wasn't for a lack of willing candidates, but Sihtric had left you incapable of trusting anyone, almost paranoid, and you hadn't given anyone a real chance.

—----------------------------------

Sihtric collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in the pillows, his body tense with frustration. The long-legged doll had departed, and the cleaning lady had dutifully changed the bed sheets, a daily ritual he insisted on. He couldn't bear the lingering scent of his one-night companions on his bedding. Taking a deep breath, he tried to recall your scent, a fading memory locked away in some remote corner of his mind. It had been so sweet, arousing, delightful, and soothing. After a long night of lovemaking with you, bodies slick with sweat, your scents blending as one, he loved burying his face in your hair and breathing you in, savouring the feeling that he had finally found his home. Something he hadn't felt in all those five years since you had left his life.

And now, you were suddenly back. You were as stunning as he remembered, perhaps even more so. There was a newfound self-assuredness in your demeanour, an aura of captivating confidence radiating from you. Your eyes sparkled with inner strength and poise. 

Sihtric felt his pants grow tighter as the image of you from this morning reappeared in his mind: your lovely face, your sparkling eyes, and sensual lips; your velvety hair cascading down your shoulders; the blouse and pencil skirt giving you the appearance of a madly sexy businesswoman; your hands holding the papers; and your legs in high heels – something he'd never seen you wear before. 

Every detail about you drove him to the brink of madness, as a low moan escaped his lips, his arousal undeniable. He would have sold his soul to the devil for the chance to bury his face between your thighs, to taste you again, to feel your walls clenching around him and pushing him over the edge.

For five years, Sihtric had dreamt of this moment, playing it over and over in his mind, rehearsing what he would say and do if he ever had the chance to see you again. But now that the moment had finally arrived, he had found himself unable to utter anything of significance. He had wanted to stop you, to hold you back, to shout something that would make you turn and face him. Yet his mind had gone utterly blank, and all he had managed to do was watch you storm out of the hall with a tortured expression on his face.

And so, you had left without a single backward glance.

"She hates me. She still fucking hates me," was the only thought consuming Sihtric's mind as his hand found its way into his pants, gripping his painfully hard cock and starting to stroke it with rapid, desperate movements.

[nanomooselet]

Elendira the Crimsonnail (I)

I'll start with my thoughts on the Maximum version; maybe it will soften some people's feelings to know I'm fond of her. To be clear, if I am wrong about this and Orange are just backdooring in loli fan service I will extremely displeased, but I don't think that's what they're doing.

When I read Trigun Maximum I couldn't figure out what El's deal was, thematically. Like all of Knives's followers, she had something going on with bodily autonomy (I've also heard it that they're all marginalised in some way, but I don't see it? However, they do all have unusual relationships with bodies and agency over them); she's a transgender woman who impales people with nails. But we learn nothing about her past, save that she's been at Knives's side for even longer than Legato has. We learn more about the inner life of Midvalley the Hornfreak.

The Guns are in many ways an argument in favour of Knives's beliefs about humans, but compared to… well really the majority of the cast, Elendira is self-confident and refreshingly free of angst. She sees no reason to deprive herself of the finer things in life or to refrain from doing what amuses or excites her, especially if it's violent. She's committed to assisting Knives in his genocide, knowing he will not spare her, but she claims to hate the suicidal (such as Legato) and is dismissive of immature men (such as Legato). Knives is respectful of her (in a way he isn't of, say, Legato - to whom Knives is attached, but deeply in denial about). They're very nearly equals. If he falls, Elendira will be the one to bring an end to the world. (Presumably because if Knives hasn't survived, there's no way Legato has.)

(Okay, I'll stop dunking on Legato but the way he and Elendira interact is absolutely hilarious. They hate each other so dearly you can feel the hostility crackling off the page whenever they're both on it, but they also rely on each other without question. I would read a workplace sitcom about these people in a heartbeat.)

There are theories - she has some sort of tragedy in her past ("I don't like nice men. They die too soon," gets brought up in this context) or that her transition was not met with acceptance. I can't disprove either one, but neither do I see solid evidence to support them in particular, I suppose? Beyond planetary society's general horribleness, we're given no clear reason she's in the position she's in. El has decided it's none of our business and that's that. It's her prerogative, though I do feel uneasy if "she's a transwoman" is supposed to serve as the entirety of the explanation for her being a willing accomplice to genocide.

So I have my own theory, and it's that Elendira defines and masters herself. She is resolutely singular. In a story where so much of who we are is shaped by others - via names, purpose, scars, grief, longing, imitation, jealousy, rivalry - Elendira neither needs nor is needed by anyone. Legato was rescued and named by Knives, the first ever to treat him as though he's any other human, and even his powers need other people to fully express themselves; Elendira named herself and presumably sought out Knives for her own reasons. Whatever the tragic backstory reasons for that, we don't learn them, because it doesn't matter to her. I wonder if Knives sees something to aspire to in her total self-sufficiency, or even in her nihilism. Of all the characters, Elendira does most consistently have her shit together, while Knives is… well, he was a sensitive boy.

Regardless, if ending the world presents an amusing enough challenge, Elendira sees no compelling reason she shouldn't take the shot. There's nothing else on, none of these people mean anything to her, and she'll look damn good doing it.

To her credit, she does look incredible. Being well-dressed in the face of the apocalypse is a very specific niche, but El owns it as few others could.

She's pitted against Razlo and Livio (I'd say particularly Razlo) because their purpose has always been to be needed by someone else; Razlo joined the Eye of Michael because it was a place where we will be needed. Not to mention their selfhood is by definition a little unstable, whereas Elendira knows of self-doubt and uncertain identity by reputation, but has never met either one of them face-to-face.

And yet in the end she's defeated. Because, having perfect mastery, she's not learned to recover from the kind of ego-shattering loss she regularly doles out. Razlo and Livio, for obvious reasons, have that shit down to a science - Razlo exists to step in when Livio's at the end of his strength, and Livio learns to step in when Razlo's at his limit. Whereas perfection has no room for improvement. There's certainly prestige in being peerless in your field and unbeatable one-on-one, but who do you rely on for back-up?

Elendira neither needs nor is needed by anyone. So in the end, with Legato fully occupied, when she's pushed right to the limit of her strength -

- there's no one to step in.

@ultraviolet-cello

Part II

[musedblues]

Another Little Piece

a/n: im supposed to be writing a completely different story but i literally dreamed this monstrosity up after too much nyquil. sorry it's so sad that's my brand i guess.

///

Ever since Eddie came back, he'd felt further away than before. 

Maybe it was how you'd reacted to the news. When your beloved metal headed lover showed up at your door after having gone on the run for the police, dirty and tired and all scratched up; you sat in stunned silence as he explained to you everything that had happened in deadly detail.

Eddie explained to you why he'd run away from home the night the cheerleader wound up dead in Wayne's living room. He told you how Dustin and Steve and company had found him and how Eddie wound up in the upside down. He explained the upside down to you. He showed you his scars. He cried and you sat in stunned silence. You thought he'd died. You were busy planning a funeral. But then he was back and talking a mile a minute about something you could barely comprehend. 

"Oh God, do you think I've lost my mind?" Eddie tried to laugh, but you could tell he was really worried in his asking. And because you were stunned, you waited one second too long to respond. And even though your answer was no, that beat of silence caused Eddies face to turn irrevocably twisted into an expression of upset you couldn't bear to see. You assured him over and over, once you got the words out, that you believed him. That you were sorry you weren't there with him. That you'd always been on his side through frenzy that erupted through Hawkins. 

Or maybe it was the way you'd tried to make him feel normal again. You made plans and insisted on going out with Eddie as often as possible. Plans he'd never want to follow through. Maybe it was the night you kept asking too many questions, trying to understand better what he'd gone through. Maybe it was just the fact that what Eddie had gone through shifted something within him that couldn't be nudged back with good intentions. 

It was the first day of Spring when you woke up to find him gone; again. Unlike the night he disappeared on the run from what killed Chrissy; he was prepared this time. Your shared drawers were disheveled, his clothes missing. His guitar gone from the stand in the corner. Your heart vanished, all the same. You ran from room to room as if you'd find him, ending up outside hoping the bike tire tracks out of the drive would give away the direction he'd fled. No matter, you'd lost Eddie.

But you weren't about to let him get away with it again. And this time, with a better idea of where to go looking, you took off into town. 

The first stop was Wayne's place. When he finally answered your pounding at his door, he looked just as worried as you felt. But he'd gotten good at being reasonable. After telling Wayne that Eddie vanished with all his things, and learning your man hadn't ended up at his uncles, you both decided not to panic. Wayne told you to keep looking around town, and if you both had too, you'd figure out the next step when night fell. You thanked the elder fellow for keeping you calm and laying out a loose plan to follow. 

And so your search went on. You stopped at the record store, the guitar shop, the convenience store, the school, all of his bandmates homes and his old hiding places. Every place you went looking for Eddie disappointed you. The weather seemed to turn chilly as the sun sank low in the sky. The breeze cut your face as you paced through town. As you sat waiting for your car to warm, you realized your nose wasn't running from the cold but from the tears you could no longer keep contained.

So you sat in the old mall parking lot and cried until your throat went dry. And then you drove back to Wayne. You didn't want to. You didn't want a new plan. You didn't want to keep looking or figure out a next step. You wanted your boyfriend back and better. And when you found Wayne waiting on the steps of his home, you realized nothing was quite the same at all. It hadn't been and it wasn't about to be. 

"What are you doing?" You asked with a sniffle, halting your approach in the gravel pathway as Wayne looked up, his elbows on his knees, a cigarette burning between his fingers. 

"He's here. He's safe. You don't need to worry." The man nodded, matter of factly. You breathed a sigh of relief, moving to race inside, to dote over the man you'd been missing for longer than a day. But before you could break out into your intended sprint, Wayne stopped you. 

"But, darlin', he don't wanna see you right now." Wayne was slow to stand, looking regretful as he held a hand out to signal you to stay right where you were. You thought you're heart had up and gone when Eddie did, this morning. But it was still beating somewhere inside you, you realized, when it ached in a way it never had before. 

"Wha- well, why not?" You stuttered, looking toward the windows, hoping if you caught a glimpse of Eddie you could get him to come out, or let you in.

"Look I don't know." Wayne spoke, stepping down to approach you now. "I don't like not lettin' ya in but he'- I don't know, he just needs more time I think." 

"It's been months." You cried, voice dull as the voice around your throat grew tighter. 

"I know." Wayne frowned, seemingly just as unhappy about this situation as you. "I know. Look kid, just come back in a day or two. I'll do my best to talk some sense into him, deal?"

You listened, letting your hands cover your face as you cried yet again. Wayne stood there a while longer, promising he'd do what he could to help. And you knew he would.

///

The knocking at your door stirred you from your slumber. A shot of hopeful adrenaline coursed through your system, could it be Eddie? No, you realized, as sadness numbed you. Eddie wouldn't knock. He would barge in and jump on the bed or kiss you awake. But a false hope ached at your core, because things had been so different since he'd gotten back. Maybe, just maybe, he was a knocker now?

Steve Harrington was the last person you'd expected to see on your doorstep. You'd never known him, you'd never cared to. So, when you found out Eddie's adventure away featured the infamous jock, you'd been more surprised by that fact than most anything else. 

"Is Eddie here?" Steve wondered right away.

"No, but you are. Weird right?" You noted the quizzical quirk that appeared on Steves face as he sighed and decidedly told you why he'd shown up.

"Look, during the... the thing that happened, Eddie and I talked. He helped me realize some stuff and I just really could use more of his input. Could you let him know I stopped by?"

You bit your lip to cease the tears that threated to sting the backs of your eyes. 

"Look, he's staying with Wayne. You'd have better luck stopping by there. I don't know when I'll be seeing him again."

"Wait what?" Steve waved a hand, confusion engulfing his features. 

"I dunno." You shrugged and shifted your weight as you stood in the doorway. "I woke up on two days ago and he was gone." You'd stopped by the trailer like Wayne instructed, last night, and it went almost exactly like the one before. You were turned away with little to know information and an invitation to try again some other time. Steve stared at you, his befuddled expression unchanging. 

"Okay, let me use your phone." Steve barged his way past you, inside your home. You watched with a slacked jaw as the guy headed right for the receiver on the stand by the sofa.

"Waynes number." Steve demanded, and because you were so caught off guard by his unexpected company and actions, you told him. After a beat of silence, waiting for someone to pick up the other line, Steve smiled with a hand on his hip.

"Hey, Edwardoooo!" Steve gave you a thumbs up, like a plan you'd worked on together had come together. Your heart dropped when you realized Eddie had picked up, and was listening to Steves call. Why did he get to talk to him? Why were you being left in the dark?

"Listen man, meet me at the diner? It's an emergency." Steve plead, and after another beat of silence, he nodded. Then he put the receiver down and told you to grab a jacket. You were both going to the dinner.

"Thanks." You muttered, confused, pissed, hopeful.

This wasn't how you pictured spending your year. You'd planned to watch Eddie graduate and to by a little piece of land and start a new job. You planned to help Eddies band get gigs in the shitty bars across town. You were fully unprepared for these new plans. For such lingering hurt and worry to haunt the outlines of your every waking moment. You were fully unprepared to hold small talk with Steve Harrington from the passenger seat of his car. You were fully unprepared to try and win Eddie back. You were fully unprepared to have lost him once, let alone all over again.

Steve bought you a coffee and started rambling about Nancy, and before you knew it he was asking you for the advice he'd sought after Eddie for. Inside, you scoffed. Outside, you listened and tried to offer the best answers you could to the guy's dilemma. Should he risk it all and publicly express his undying love for his high school sweetheart? Or should he let her go off with the man she'd been in a long-distance relationship with for longer than anyone had expected? You didn't know.

But your opinion on his quandary didn't matter anymore. Because Eddie was walking in. His eyes squinted as he searched the eatery for the man who'd called him here. He looked tired, he looked like the man you'd loved the most of all. He looked right at you.

When Eddies eyes locked with yours, for one moment, your heart soared. You sat up a little straighter, you began to open your mouth to call him over. But he spun around and hurried out of that dumpy diner faster than he'd waltzed in. Leaving Steve disappointed. Leaving you irate. Enough was enough.

"Maybe you two need my input more than I need yours..." Steve wondered aloud, watching you struggle to contain your hurt. He'd watched the whole thing play out, seemingly more confused than before. "I think you should let me take you over to Waynes. Don't ask to see him. Make him talk. He's running away from his problems again. But you don't have to let him keep at it."

You sniffled back tears as a fiercer hotter anger swelled with in you, and nodded, agreeing to Steves plan. You hadn't expected Steve Harrington to show up at your door or save the day. You'd thank him later.

///

Wayne opened the door, sad eyes flashing with shock when you stormed past him, apologizing with each step. He moved instantly to let you through, and you noticed out of the corner of your eye as the guy grabbed a hat and let the door shut on his way out.

Your march through the trailer ended when you reached Eddies opened doorway. He was slumped in a chair, head rested on a fist, a cassette blaring from his radio. He didn't look at you. Instead, he let both of his hands cover his face as you started to yell.

"Tell me you don't love me anymore. Tell me you're moving out, tell me what's wrong. Say something. But don't just fucking disappear again. I cannot take it again Eddie."

"I do love you!" He shouted back, uncovering his features, eyes leaking instant tears. You'd never seen him so distraught. Not when his car broke down on the way to a Metallica show. Not when he got back from the upside down. His heartbreak was never so apparent as it was now.

"Then what the fuck is wrong!" You demanded to know, throwing your hands in the air as the man you loved rose from the seat he'd occupied.

"I wake up from those crazy fucking nightmares and I see that you're not sleeping. I stay home from all those stupid parties that I know you want to go to, and you stay at home with me. I can't eat the dinner you make because I can't keep it down. I'm in the fucking way. I'm in your way. And I don't know how to get over all the shit that happened. But I do know I can't fucking live with myself if I keep dragging you down with me."

"Shit Eddie, I'd rather never sleep again so long as I knew we got to share a bed each night!" You pointed as he paced before you. Then Eddie stepped an inch away to let his grasp engulf the sides of your face. His hold on you was delicately gentle, his response was manic.

"That's romantic but it's bullshit." He hissed, his glossy eyes widening under a furrowed brow. "I'm gonna fuck this up eventually. You're gonna get sick of me screaming in my sleep. You're gonna tell me I'm wasting perfectly good food. You're gonna start going to all all those parties without me and come home to find out I still can't move on. I don't want us to end like that. So I'm ending things on my own terms, get it?"

"No, I don't fucking get it!" You cried, reaching for the man's arms and softly shoving his hands away from your face. "You don't just get to decide the future. You don't just get to decide what I think or what I might get sick of! You sure as fuck don't get to just leave. I know you don't want that. And I know you know I don't either. And that should be enough for now."

"So this is what you want? Because this is what it's like now." Eddie frowned, gesturing at the space between the two of you. Acknowledging the fight, the confusion, the hurt.

"Yes." You rang, voice still raised, desperate for your point to become clear.

"I'm gonna ruin your life. I'm gonna be a bitch. I don't know what else." Eddie warned in a whimper, seemingly exhausted. He probably wasn't sleeping well here, either. Not in the home he'd fled that housed such trauma.

"Sure, maybe." You pointed, eyes piercing into his. "But I'm choosing that. I'm begging you to let me deal with whatever happens. Now..." You shuddered a deeply held breath and tried to lower your tone, speaking up again more gently, "I'm gonna go make some tea, and then I'm going home. I want you to come with me. I want you to pack up all your shit and come with me. But if you don't, and I leave by myself, I'll be back in the morning. I won't stop coming back here until we work this out."

Eddie stood silent, watching you speak. You declared your final statement and watched him begin to decide his next move. After you'd announced your intentions, you stormed out of the room and put the kettle on. Try as you might to hear a bag unzip or a closet door shut, Eddies cassette drowned out any other noise. 

You sipped your tea, trying to make it last as long as you could. Trying to give him as much time as possible. But the longer the clock ticked, the more your hopes crashed further to the floor. He wasn't coming out of that room. He wasn't coming back with you.

You abandoned your borrowed mug and slipped past Wayne as he arrived back, a million questions in his gaze. You couldn't meet his eye, however, and mumbled something about seeing him around.

You wished Steve had waited up to give you a lift home. You wished you lived on the same side of town, that the night air wasn't so cold. You wished you knew how to get to the upside down. You wished you'd gone there with Eddie, that you knew exactly what he went through. There was nothing more you could do or say, nothing that you hadn't already tried. Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe the pair of you couldn't make this work, even if that's what you both wanted.

"Hey, wait up."

You stalled, turning to find someone standing at the bend of the dirt path you were near the end of. Eddie was there, guitar slung over his back, bag in hand. You let your gaze sweep across the expanse of his figure, lean and scared. His features wrought; his hair frizzy. And you fell a little more in love; knowing that even through terse shared words and the uncertainty of the days ahead, love still kept the pair of you tethered. That even if you couldn't make it work, that he was about to let you try. 

Eddie stepped deeper into the night, closer to you. He grinned when you took his bag in your hands and told him you loved him as you started to share the long walk back home together. And that was enough for now. 

[mimisempai]

Your heart is still the same

Summary

Following Loki's revelations, Mobius, haunted by memories of his past, no longer knows where he stands. But Loki is there to show him that his mistakes and missteps don't define who he is.

Notes

Mobius told Loki that there was no comfort at the TVA, but Loki decided it was time for Mobius to receive the comfort he deserved.

On Ao3

Rating G - 1598 words

When Loki woke up in Mobius' guest room this morning, he had a different impression than the other times he'd woken up since he'd been here. 

For one thing, he felt really rested and also...

Lighter.

He felt lighter.

Because he had finally been able to tell Mobius everything.

Because he had finally been able to unload all the burdens he'd been carrying since the first failure, since Victor's first death and everything that had followed.

Mobius had been true to himself and more, accepting everything Loki had told him. Offering him understanding and comfort, unconditionally.

Loki's heart gave a small jolt as he realized that in his urgency to tell everything, he hadn't hidden how he felt about Mobius. How could he hide it? When those feelings had been the force that had driven him forward and helped him to carry on and do it again and again.

He vaguely remembered Mobius returning his feelings and regretted a little that the moment hadn't been special for either of them, then shook his shoulders and told himself again that they had plenty of time to reaffirm it.

Thinking about it again, he got dressed and left the room. He saw that the door opposite, the one to Mobius' bedroom, was ajar and ventured a peek.

The bed was made and the room was empty, which didn't surprise him, because in the few days he'd been here, he'd noticed that Mobius tended to be an early riser. 

Which rather suited his personality, Loki thought fondly.

Loki made his way to the living room and the open kitchen, calling out, "Mobius?

He received no answer, but as he approached the bay window, he saw him in the distance on the beach, standing motionless, facing the sea.

He had also noticed over the past few days that whenever something disturbed Mobius, the man would go for a walk along the beach. 

After all this going back and forth in time, Loki felt he knew Mobius like he knew no one else, but at the same time, now that they were outside the TVA, it was as if he was discovering him anew. 

Which made some sense, since he'd only known him through the TVA. 

Loki loved that. 

He loved the funny, smart, straightforward analyst, but he also loved this new, more fragile and vulnerable version of Mobius. Giving Loki the chance to be a force for him in return.

He wondered how different it was for Mobius as well. 

In a short time, the analyst who loved his work had learned that the organization he worked for, that had been his whole life, was nothing but lies and manipulation. He hadn't even had time to proceed before they were in a race against time to avoid destruction.

On top of what Loki had revealed to him yesterday. 

That was a lot, even for someone like Mobius.

Worried now about how he was doing, Loki quickened his pace to join him.

Arriving behind him, he said softly, "Hey there."

Then he moved closer and wrapped his arms around Mobius' waist, hugging him from behind before resting his chin on the gray hair.

Loki was pleased to feel Mobius lean against him and planted a light kiss on his temple before asking softly, "Are you okay?"

Mobius replied quietly, "Let me answer you in a moment, okay?"

Loki hummed and then said, "I suppose this is a lot to take in?"

Mobius chuckled slightly and replied, "Yes, it certainly is. But..."

He paused, and Loki saw him swallow several times as if struggling to speak, so he tightened his arms around Mobius and said soothingly, "It's all right, Mobius. Don't force yourself..."

Mobius interrupted, shaking his head, "No, it's not that. Ever since you spoke to me yesterday, I've been thinking about that moment when you said I told you about my hunter past, but which I'll never remember. And it's all so confusing, because when I was in the TVA, when I still believed in the TVA, I was sure that Ravonna was right to correct my mistake. To prune the child. That it was I who was too weak to do my duty. You were there when she reminded me of that. Because that's what she was talking about when we were in Timely’s warehouse."

“After all those years of doing your dirty work, cleaning up your messes, making the hard decisions you never had the nerve to make.”

Loki remembered. 

They hadn't really had time to stop, but now he recalled Renslayer's words exactly.

Messes? As in many? Could it be that Mobius...

He slowly moved away from Mobius, then walked in front of him and said, "Mobius, I remember what Ravonna said, she talked about several messes, as if it was a habit for her to make up for mistakes you'd made.

Mobius looked at him, confused, and replied, "But I only remember that one time. 

They looked at each other in silence for a few moments before saying simultaneously, "Memory wipe.” 

Loki continued, "Of course. That makes sense. You're a talented, smart analyst who does his job better than anyone. You're second to none when it comes to finding variants. They couldn't do it without you. So to keep you, they were willing to fix what they thought were mistakes and make you forget them."

Seeing that Mobius was quite upset about what they had just found out, Loki took his hand and led him to the sand to sit down.

Mobius nodded and muttered, "I really was blind..."

Loki hadn't let go of his hand, and after intertwining their fingers, he said softly, "I know it's something terribly unsettling, but you know what I see, Mobius? That despite all their brainwashing, all their propaganda, you've never been entirely theirs. Your empathy, your good heart..." Loki placed his hand flat on Mobius's chest and continued, "were out of control. It's that heart that kept you from killing that child, it's that heart that made you stick your neck out for me more than once. What you are at your core, they could never erase. It's those qualities that made you see things in me that I didn't see in myself. They could never erase that because it's you. It's who you are."

Mobius looked so distraught that Loki leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead, then sat beside him in silence, giving him time to proceed.

After a moment, Mobius said in a hoarse voice, "I am not a good man. I pruned and hunted down all those people in the name of the TVA and..."

"Mobius, I held all of New York City hostage with an alien army. And yet you told me I could be someone good. From the moment you knew the TVA wasn't what it was, you decided to make things right, and if that's not being a good person, I don't know what is. We both got a second chance and I don't think we've wasted it yet, have we?"

Mobius laughed slightly, "You haven't wasted it, that's for sure."

Loki gave him a little nudge on the shoulder and replied, "Idiot, neither have you."

Mobius lost his smile and muttered, "But what Sylvie said..."

Loki raised an eyebrow and asked, "What?"

"What she told me that day was not untrue. When I wanted to eat that slice of pie."

Loki understood what Mobius meant.

"It's just another bad day at the office for you. Timelines are just lines on a monitor. Doesn't matter if a few disappear. Because you've never bothered to look if one of them was yours."

Loki shook his head, "That wasn't true. First of all, she doesn't know you, she couldn't have known that eating a slice of pie is your way of coping and dealing with stress. Second, as you put it so well, she didn't see the big picture. She only saw the situation through her narrowed vision and was incapable of rational thought."

Mobius nodded and let his head fall on Loki's shoulder.

After a few minutes of silence, he muttered, "I couldn't even eat my slice of pie. Do you realize the last one I ate was with you?"

Loki chuckled softly, "We'll have to make up for that."

Mobius replied, "They don't make them here, and anyway..."

He paused slightly before continuing, "I wouldn't have had the heart to eat it."

Loki straightened and looked at him with a puzzled expression, "And why not?"

"Because it would have reminded me of the sweet god of mischief I shared the last one with. And I wasn't ready to face that."

Noticing the slight tremor in Mobius's voice and the unusual glint in his eyes, Loki realized once again how upsetting their parting had been for Mobius.

He turned to face him fully, then, cupping his face in his hands, he brought his face close to Mobius' and murmured softly against his lips, "You won't have to face it anymore. I'm here now and we can eat all the pies you want together."

Mobius murmured, "Yeah. I like that."

Loki closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Mobius' in a tender kiss filled with the love and admiration he felt for the man in his arms.

A man like himself, made of flaws and mistakes. 

A man who had seen and shown him who he really was.

A man whose heart had understood him like no one before.

A man who loved him like no one before.

This man.

Mobius.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Timeless Growing love : here (After season 2)

Lokius masterlist : here

[peck2neck]

hiiii. heres the allohema logs from the wyatt dies au

putting it all under the cut since its preeeeetty long. the first two were written back in january while the third one was written recently

dunno what else to say soooo enjoy :]

Allo.Hema LOG_1

It's been about a day since I first discovered that Wyatt had gone missing. I don't think I ever could have seen it coming - things were fine a few days ago. I went over to visit, but he was more cheerful than usual. He was finally starting to open up, I think. Hell, I even managed to make him laugh, something I assumed that he was incapable of. He gave me a present before I left and I went back for the day. I wasn't able to visit for a while after, things get pretty busy during the holiday season but I managed to sneak out just after new years. But... He wasn't there. In fact, there was nothing but rubble. Charred metal lying limp around where the feint memory of a shack had been. I searched for hours to no avail. I couldn't find him anywhere, and I'm starting to believe that maybe... he- ...nevermind.

I brought Microwave back to the lab with me. It seems like she wasn't around when it.. happened. I checked her and she appears to be unscathed. I doubt I'll be able to keep her here for long, though. As soon as someone notices she's here I'll get in trouble and she'll get rehomed. I feel bad for the thing, she's just been staring at the door all day. It's obvious she wants to go back, but i can't let her - she doesn't know that no one is waiting there for her.

I should really throw his file away - I have no need for notes about Wyatt anymore but I... can't bring myself to do it. Not right now, at least. I'll keep them for a bit longer - just in case. Tomorrow I'll sneak out again, just one more time. I need to be sure. I need answers. It just doesn't make sense! I'm the only one who has had contact with Wyatt for YEARS, he basically confirmed it! Unless I had been followed? I doubt it was an accident, either. He may be arrogant but he sure as hell isn't stupid. It just.. doesn't add up. I'll watch my back tomorrow but I'm not sure what else I can do.

Allo.Hema LOG_2

I fixed up the flowerbeds while I was out there today. He never let me anywhere near them before, but someone has to tend to them. On that note, its been about over a week now, and there's still no sign of him. It would seem I have no choice but to believe that he's gone.. however I just can't. I said that I'd go back one more time, but for the past few days I've been returning over and over, desperate for a something, anything.... nothing. I've been tidying a few things while he's been absent - might as well pass the time. Some of his belongings seemed to survive, so I'm going to take them back to the lab with me - until he gets back, of course. It's pretty calm out here, all things considered. It's... quiet, there's a clear view of the sky and a slight breeze at my back. I suppose getting out of that building for a while is doing me some good.

I still haven't fully decided what to do with Microwave. No one has noticed that she's here, surprising considering I ordered so many cat toys.. ahem - I've been considering keeping her, to be honest. Wyatt cared a lot about Microwave, and I'd feel bad just.. giving her away with no guarantee that she'll be safe. Besides, she's taken a liking to me. My jacket is covered in cat hairs.. I hope no one is allergic, because I'm about to run out of spare ones.. More annoyingly, she keeps knocking everything off of my desk, even my tungsten cube! I used to wonder why Wyatt's tools were scattered on the floor, but I guess that's why. I don't mind the company, though. She curls up on my lap while I'm doing paperwork and I can hear a feint purr each time. She's adorable.. but I should get her to stop chewing the wires.

Looking back, he always seemed to be worried about me, specifically what my job was like. It always confused me why seemed so pushy about it despite him being so abrasive, though I slowly figured out why. We even talked about it one day, and I managed to assure him that i'll be fine. I'm already very aware of what the higher-ups think of me, and i've never trusted them for a second to be honest. I know they'll attempt to decommission me the moment I stop being... useful to them, but what's stopping me from leaving? I could always pack my things and leave the night before - information always gets back to me somehow, so I'd know. They'd never find me if I lay low somewhere, I've already removed that damned tracking chip ages ago, and I could continue my work for free, for those who need it somewhere else. Huh. It doesn't feel like a bad thing to consider, actually.. Hah, guess he was right. He knew what he was doing when he gave me that bag, I suppose.

I'll think about it. Maybe I could find some information out there, a lead to what happened to him - or maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.. I'll bide my time and bite my (metaphorical) tongue.

Allo.Hema LOG_3

I left. After 4 months I finally bit the bullet and.. ran away, i suppose. I'm currently laying low in Wyatt's old shack- what I could salvage of it anyways. The charred ground seems to have been washed away by the rain, but this place is still somewhat in a state of disarray despite my attempts to fix it. About a week was spent packing my things, going back and forth between my office and the scrapyard to drop off my stuff. I have enough supplies to last for a while on my own before I'll have to find some way of getting new ones. I'm not sure what I'll do after that.. but i have more important things to worry about at the moment. Microwave is with me, too. I made sure to stock up on food for her, though Wyatt always managed to get some for her so I doubt I'll have to worry too much about it. She seems glad to be back in the scrapyard, but she keeps searching for Wyatt. I guess we're both in the same boat.

The reason I left.. is because I found a lead. I spent all of those months trying to find something and for once I finally did. I think I've found what - or who - may be responsible for Wyatt's death.. or rather his disappearance. I knew he couldn't really be dead. Surely he's too stubborn for that. My research leads me to believe that theres.. someone behind everything that's happened to him. The issue is that I don't know how to locate it. All of my research for nothing. Again. But I still have to try, I can't rest knowing that he's out there.

I've never really tried.. building anything. I've watched Wyatt do it plenty of times and he made it look easy so it cant be THAT bad, right?? I have his old tools, so I guess I can practice by properly fixing this shack. All I did earlier was slide some scrap metal sheets on top of each other and called it a day. He always seemed to passionate about making things, even if he didn't want to admit it. Most of his belongings were salvaged scrap that was repurposed into something new. Surely I could do the same. It's starting to get darker now. When was the last time I saw the sunset? It's much more beautiful than I remembered. I guess not being stuck inside all the time really does have its upsides. I don't like my jacket being covered in dirt though, I'm not sure how I'm going to clean it.

I have an idea. I'm not sure if it will work, but i think it's worth a try. If it's successful, I might be able to get some answers. This may take months, even years to finish- but this creation will be what I need to find it. To find answers.

I have to get answers. I have to. I will find him.

[fxchild]

The Switch

Miles Fairchild x fem!reader

Chapter two

This morning I woke up, shocked to remember I had no nightmares. No house, no woods, no running, nothing. I felt around and there was no unusual feeling surrounding me today like there usually is. Today was a Saturday, which is my only day off so I decided to stay in bed for a while longer. It was 7:30 by the time I decided to start getting ready. My outfit was a white lace undershirt with a long sleeve navy blue shirt on top, just low enough to show the lace, but nothing that shouldn't be seen. I wore blue jeans and a white pair of shoes and put my hair half up half down. By the time I had gotten downstairs, Miles, Flora, and Ms.Grose were already there. Flora usually likes to sleep in until 9am on weekends but Miles must have surprised her this morning. Flora ran up and hugged me good morning and I hugged her back.

"Y/n! This is my brother, Miles! He came back last night!" Flora exclaimed. Miles smiled at me, got up and shook my hand.

"Sleep alright? I know it was chilly near your room." He asked. I was confused, why the change of heart since last night? Maybe he was just tired but still, do first impressions not exist to him?

"I slept great, thanks." I said warmly.

"Miles, let's show her the horses after breakfast! I was waiting until you came back so you could teach her how to ride." Flora begged.

"If that's alright with you?" Miles asked. "Sure! I'd love to learn." I smiled.

After breakfast we headed out to the stables. Miles handed me a horse and helped me onto it. "Since you've never ridden before, I'll be easy on you. To her to start, pet her neck." I rub her neck gently and she starts to move at a slow pace. "Good. Now, tell her faster." Again, I follow the directions given to me and she does as told. "Now for her to break you pull the reins back. Don't be afraid to be extra firm, she may be gentle but stubborn." I pulled the reins back but that barely caught her attention. "Harder." He says. Once more I try to pull back harder but still won't budge. "Keep pulling. Pull harder." After a few more tries she slows down and finally stops.

"Why aren't you being firm with her like I told you to?" Miles sounded annoyed.

"I tried, but I couldn't catch her attention." I said quietly.

"Here, get off the horse and I'll teach you to be stronger. Stand across from me and when I say so try to tug me past..this line." He says drawing a long line in the mud with a stick. He said go and I lunged at him. I've always been strong but when I tried to pull him he barely moved. He looked like he was using a little force to keep him there but showed no emotion in his face and his breathing was perfectly fine. I let go and he started to talk again. "Now, I won't be as firm on the ground so you can pull me easier, but I will be fighting back, just like a horse. It's a strong animal, if you don't exert power over it, you'll never gain control." He smiles at me but not a friendly smile, he says it like he knows something I don't. I was nervous but as long as I don't let him grab my wrists I'll get a good grip. We both got into a wrestling stance and I lunged towards him. My fingertips barely graze his shoulder when he pushes me, hard, into the mud.

I was in complete shock. I could feel tears swelling up my eyes and my breathing was staggered.

"What the hell is your problem?!" I gasped with my mouth wide open wiping mud off of my chin.

He crouched down with hands on his knees, "I told you I would fight back, I don't understand why you're mad." He spits.

"You asshole! You pushed me into the mud how else am I supposed to react?" I said more aggressively getting into his face.

He barely raised his hand to slap me. I felt the sting on my right cheek. I looked at him with tears falling down my face. I ran back to the estate and locked myself in my room. I took a shower to get all of the mud off of me and laid in my bed. I didn't go down for dinner, the thought of embarrassment while being near Miles overwhelmed my head.

Around 8:30 pm there was a knock on my door. I ignored it hoping whoever it was assumed I was sleeping but 3 minutes later I heard a huff and banging on the door and rattling the knob. I get up and answer the door and never the less, it's Miles.

"Did you need something?" I ask uninterested.

"Yeah, actually. I wanted to know why you weren't at dinner. Flora was upset." He said to me. His words sounded like he cared but his face and tone were nowhere close to it.

"I think we both know why I wasn't at dinner." I said rolling my eyes.

"If you think I'm supposed to apologize, you better think again. I tried to help you okay? Don't be a spoiled bitch." He said kinda sassily.

"You're such a jerk!" I yelled at him while slamming the door in his face.

"Don't fucking yell at me!" He screamed louder than I yelled kicking the door. Some anger issues am I right?

After another hour of being angry and upset I finally decided to get some sleep because tomorrow I have work again. I turned the lights off but kept tossing and turning. I felt like it had been hours and I still couldn't sleep.

I got up to go to the bathroom to get a drink because my throat was dry. While I looked at myself in the mirror after having a few sips I felt a cold breeze on my neck. It felt as if someone had gently kissed it. I whipped my head around and no one was there so I ran back to my bed. After maybe another half hour of being paranoid I finally fell asleep.

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Hi guys !! Tysm for reading this !! This took a while to make idrk why but the next chapter should be coming out soon ! Love you !!

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