#we're just a little behind we can do this

[rhysisphysis]

I feel what's important to be said about this is that - as far as the original Tomino quadrilogy goes - this is never portrayed as anything but an absolute tragedy.

Let's talk about episode 13. Can we talk about episode 13 please? I've been dying to talk about episode 13. It is simply the best and most important Gundam episode that there is.

Obviously, spoilers for anyone who hasn't watched the original series.

In Episode 13 - Coming Home, the White Base continues its sojourn through Zeon territory, and makes a stop near Amuro's hometown. Amuro borrows the Core Fighter to go check in with his mom.

After a brief scare finding his childhood home empty, he learns that his mom is just busy working at a nearby refugee camp. He finds her, they hug, have a touching reunion, then catch up while Amuro rests in one of the refugee camp beds.

Except, it's kind of hard to land a fucking fighter jet in a small town without being noticed. A pair of Zeon soldiers come to do a sweep of the camp, under the correct assumption that there's an EFF pilot lurking about. Amuro hides under the covers as they poke around, but ehhhhn, it's just old people and kids, nothin' ta see here. Except then Amuro's EFF pager (shut up, it was 1979) goes off. They move to investigate and, left with few other choices...

Amuro shoots.

The first Zeon soldier goes down. The second runs. Amuro chases, then empties his gun off-screen.

His mother is horrified.

"Even they might have children, you know? How can you aim a gun at someone like that and fire," she says. "You've grown so cruel."

Amuro protests. He tells her it's war. He asks her if she loves him. He checks in with White Base.

"Amuro, I don't remember bringing you up to be like this," his mother says.

"Please, go back to the way you were!" She begs.

Amuro runs off to the Core Fighter. He does a strafing run on the nearby Zeon base while his mother, heartbroken at what her son has become, clutches one of his childhood toys.

"Maybe it's because he was raised by a man," she says to herself as tears well up in her eyes. "He wasn't like that as a boy. He was a boy who couldn't even kill a fly."

Amuro gets in the Gundam and finishes the job, destroying the Zeon base.

After Amuro's cheeky rampage, the White Base lands. Amuro says his goodbyes to his mother, while Bright comes out to tell her what a good, good soldier her little boy has been. He also asks Amuro if he'd rather stay behind since, y'know, he is a child, not an enlisted soldier.

Amuro thinks about it for a moment, then stoicly salutes his mother and tells her to take care of herself. He and Bright leave on the White Base. We're then treated to what I would confidently call the single most gut-wrenching scene in the entire Gundam franchise.

Kamaria Rey watches her son leave. She doesn't move, doesn't say a word.

As she loses sight of him, she falls to her knees.

For a full minute, we watch Kamaria weep as the White Base takes off and slowly disappear over the horizon, carrying back to war the soldier that was once her sweet, innocent baby boy. She hardly moves until the last few seconds before the episode fades to black, where she hangs her head in resignation.

Kamaria Rey's son never sees his 30th birthday.

I still think it's really cool how Amuro starts as the shittiest pilot alive (because he's a 15-year old) that only gets carried because he's in the biggest, fattest stat stick in-universe at the time (a few retroactive additions made in the future notwithstanding), enough that even its crappy vulcan guns are tearing Zaku IIs apart, and when he starts getting a bit too cocky, Char and Ramba Ral show up in objectively inferior pieces of junk and absolutely deliver his pizza, they just drag his face across every available surface in Planet Earth like he's a Yakuza mook, all because they are simply that much better at piloting, and the thing is, Amuro takes that very seriously.

He goes from shitass kid in an unfortunate situation that doesn't want to get in the robot to the most unwell child soldier in the war, which is really saying something, but most importantly, becomes so good at piloting the Gundam that the Gundam physically cannot handle Amuro's piloting. They need to apply "Magnetic Coating" to its joints so they don't fucking snap away from the main frame because Amuro, one, moves too damn well but also in too extreme a way for the frame to handle it, two, despite being equipped with two sabers, a shield, a beam rifle and vulcan guns, Amuro is a stern believer in introducing most everyone in thagomizer range to his Rated Z for Zeon hands, the single most official pair of hands in the business, tax free. He KEEP going Ip Man on these dudes, he does NOT need to do a Jamestown on these mother fuckers but he INSISTS. Somehow even the Gundam Hammer, which is a giant Hannah Barbera cartoon flail-- Ok, look at this thing, words do not do it justice

Even this god damn Tom and Jerry prop is less savage that whatever Amuro decides to do the moment he's done throwing his shield to get a free kill on someone and it officially becomes bed time forever for the unfortunate sap at the business end of his ten-finger weapons of mass destruction.

The RX-78-2, "Gundam" for its friends and family, even has a top of the line cutting edge Learning Computer that 'learns' alongside the pilot and their habits. This data extracted from it was so absolutely fucked up that it completely revolutionized Mobile Suit combat afterwards, which is a wholesome thing to think about when The Best Combat Data Ever came from a really angry, really stressed 15 year old that doesn't even like piloting. He was 15! He made Haro with his own hands! Amuro literally just wanted to make funny cute spherical robofriends! Amuro was out there trying to make Kirby real, but fate had other plans for him. His cloned brain put in a pilot seat is one of the setting's strongest 'pilots'.

They made fucking Shadow the Hedgehog with his brain, god damn.

By the end, Zeon is rolling out Gelgoogs out of its mass production lines. These things are in the Gundam's ballpark in terms of overall specs (or "power level"). Amuro is bodying them as if they were episode 1 Zaku IIs.

AND THEN HE GETS FUCKING PSYCHIC SPACE POWERS. Not that he needed them, he bodied a couple Space Psychics without any of those powers before awakening to them. But heaven's most violent child was not done evolving, whether he liked it or not.

Char bodied him in a souped up Zaku II at the start, a machine objectively inferior to the Gundam. Amuro more or less one-sidedly beats the shit out of Char when he's in a custom Commander-type Gelgoog that you could consider to be equal spec-wise to the Gundam. Amuro is the embodiment of Finding Out. He is Consequences. You tell him he better make it hurt, better make it count, better kill you in one shot, buddy, he needs half a fucking shot. The complete transformation. One could consider the central 75% of the show as long drawn out training montage turning a kid into the Geese Howard of giant robots.

[ggidolsmuts]

Single's Inferno - ARTMS Choerry

"Hey man, you ready to get the pants scared off you?"

"Sure sure, where are the others?"

"There they are!" You join your group of friends—it was right before Halloween, and they wanted to get the full experience and go through a haunted house attraction. Begrudgingly you agreed—you're not the fondest of jump scares.

"Yah, where's your date?" One of them asks.

"Date?"

"Yeah, it's a good opportunity to get to know someone, having a joint experience."

"How would I get to know someone in the dark when we're going to be screaming?"

"Look at Mr. Scaredy Cat here, I see why you didn't want to bring someone now," your buddy teases.

"Yeah fuck you, be glad I showed up. Let's just go in." Your group gathers at the entrance of the house, and a usher calls out.

"Okay guys how we doing tonight? For the best experience for everyone, you should be paired up with a friend, so pair off as needed and we'll let you in two-by-two, okay?" To your horror, your friends have basically paired off already—they came with their girlfriends, or brought their own dates. You would be going into the haunted house alone!

You would be going into the haunted house alone... Fuck, rather than being scared you're more sad than anything.

"Hey guys—" Before you know it your friends are already in line, every pair already locking arms. Some friends, hmph. You steel yourself and join the line, trudging along solo. You're on your phone when you hear a bright voice next to you.

"Hi! Are you going in alone?"

"Yes." From her tone you assumed it was an overly enthusiastic employee, but no.

"Can I pair up with you then?" You turn to look at your speaker—she's dressed simply in a fluffy sweater and jeans, but her smile is absolutely radiant, her eyes round and hopeful.

"Y-You want to go in with me?" You wouldn't say no of course, but she's way out of your league, and you had to double check.

"Mmhmm, is that okay?" You nod and she slides in right next to you��more than that, she slips her arm between yours. "Thanks, I'm Choerry!"

"Nice to meet you Choerry, you came to this alone?"

"No, but my unnies are all with their boyfriends, so they kinda just left me alone." She pouts cutely.

"Really? Same here, my friends ditched me for their dates too." You shake your head and Choerry laughs.

"That's great, let's ditch them then!"

"Sure!" Her enthusiasm is infectious. But as you get closer to the entrance, Choerry's hugging you tighter and tighter.

"To be honest, I don't like scary things, I might be loud, sorry."

"Why come then? You don't have to do this."

"No the unnies will make fun of me!"

"If you say so. To be honest, I don't like scary things either, hate jump scares."

"I can tell."

"What? How?" You're a little indignant, how did Choerry already chalk you down as a scaredy cat?

"You've been holding on to me since we got closer." You blink and look down—you've had a hand on Choerry's arm this whole time, and now you're not sure if she's been hugging you tighter, or if you've been pulling her closer to you.

"Oh, damn, sorry!" You hastily let go, but she stays close. If anything, she's even closer now.

"It's okay, good to know we're both scared."

"Enjoy!" You shake your head at the happy staff as the two of you walk through a curtain of dangling chains, loudly drowning out the shouts and screams ahead. It's dark and there's manmade fog everywhere, but you see an eerie green exit light across the room.

"I think we go this way."

"Oh, okay." The two of you walk forward into the fog side-by-side.

"Ahh!" The door behind you slams shut with a loud bang and Choerry is shouting already. "Sorry, sorry!"

"It's fine, I'm here," you reassure, hoping you sound braver than you are. You walk forward with her, dodging the hanging pig corpses—you were in a slaughterhouse.

"RAAAHH!" A huge man makes his presence known, wearing a bloody apron and carrying a cleaver. His boots squelch wetly, as if walking in pools of blood. "GET OVER HERE!" Choerry screams, clinging on to you tighter and burying your head against you.

"Oh shit!" You shout, quickly dragging her through, away from the menacing butcher. "Fucking hell!" You curse loudly. You blink as your eyes adjust to the new room, and your crinkle your nose at the new smell—chlorine and chemical cleaner. A brief spark runs through you as you assess the situation—Choerry pressed tightly against your arm, and the only way to describe that sensation is soft. But you shake that thought from your head as you gently rock her shoulder.

"Hey, he's gone, we're in the next room."

"Huh? Really? Thanks for getting me through."

"We don't have to do this if you're too scared, I can exit with you?"

"N-No! I'm not scared! Well, I won't be, if you'll guide me through the rest!" A spark runs through Choerry as she grabs your arm—firm, comforting, reliable, hot. But she's jarred out of it as someone starts shouting.

"Help me, help me!" In the far corner someone is chained to a chair, various needles seeming to stick out of them, connected to pipes. You're in a mad scientist's lab! A voice booms in the room.

"Ah, new test subjects, are you? Excellent, excellent. Nurses, get them!" On each side you see nurses step out from the shadows, pushing a gurney towards you two, complete with straps hanging off the sides.

"We should keep moving!" Choerry pulls on your arm, and the two of you hurriedly dash through a maze of dividers to walk around and curtains to pull open. The two of you never knew what horrors awaited behind each—you cursed at a single "person", their hands and feet on all the wrong limbs; Choerry screamed at an oozing "corpse". Somehow you manage to drag each other through the demented maze and into the next room.

The room is dim and jaundiced yellow, and you see white sacs hanging from the ceiling—cocoons?

"Oh no no no no no..." Choerry's hiding behind you, and she's shaking. "I can't, I can't do spiders!" You look again and indeed see a large spider perched on its web in the corner, numerous eyes glittering back at you menacingly.

"Stay behind me, I can stay in front." You intended to leave an arm behind for Choerry to grab, but instead she wraps her arms around you, hugging you from behind.

"Please, thank you!" She's warm on your back, and your hand finds its way over hers, and she gratefully grabs it. With her hugging you tightly you waddle your way through the cocoon obstacle course. The large spider hisses and screams at you.

"Oh fuck!" "Ahh!" Choerry screams and you shout when a large spider leg bursts out from a nearby cocoon, swinging away wildly, and the two of you hurry forward. You reach the exit with her, and as you take a deep breath to calm yourself your own nerves are shattered as Choerry screams again!

"Help, help!" Choerry slumps against you, and you whirl around to find her covered in what looks like web, but you take a closer look and realize what it was.

"It's not real, it's just silly string!" you reassure her, and you have to hold her still as you get rid of the string all over her hair.

"Really? I thought the spider was going to trap me or something..."

"I won't let that happen, okay? Hold still." Choerry's heart thumps as you pick out the last pieces of silly string—maybe it's beating quickly from the scare, but she felt attracted to you, taken care of, protected. She felt you trembling against her when she was hugging you, but yet you powered on even if you were scared. The other part of her also felt your midriff as she hugged you—not ripped or shredded, but solid and strong, reliable. A new spark runs down her spine as you touch her hair, trying to remove an annoying piece of string.

"There, all gone." You brush the last piece of string from her hair, and you find yourself stunned momentarily when looking right at Choerry. She is exceptionally pretty, cheeks lightly flushed from the frightening experience. Your fingertips tingle as you brush her hair aside, feeling the light sweat on her hair. Your hand moves down, wanting to cup her face, but you realize what you're doing and clear your throat to shake that thought.

"W-We should move on," Choerry says, voice a little hoarse, husky even.

"Right."

"Wait!" As you make to move forward Choerry grabs your t-shirt. "Sorry, my legs are weak." She was scared silly from the "attack", and you realize what you had to do.

"I'll carry you, we're almost at the end I think."

"Are you sure?"

"You can't be that heavy," you try to joke as you kneel down for her to get on your back. She gets on you gingerly, and her hair tickles your neck as you get on.

"Thank you," Choerry whispers in your ear, and you pray she doesn't notice your tremble as you grab her legs and get up. Meanwhile Choerry's hoping you don't notice her rapidly beating heart—you've literally swept her off her feet, and she's thinking back to her conversation with her unnies.

-----

"Haseul unnie, how did you meet your boyfriend?"

"Oppa? It was during COVID, I had to quarantine, we were stuck together, and then things just happened?"

"What just happened? Like did he ask you out?"

"Pabo, we couldn't go out, we were in quarantine!" Haseul blushes and continues. "We just kinda, ended up doing everything during that time together, and we found things compatible."

"Compatible? You mean— Wait, by everything you mean—" Choerry blushes, she can't believe her unnie would do something like that!

"Yeah, we did everything together! I just let things happen... Naturally." Haseul shouts initially, but plunges on, face red in embarrassment.

"But that's so random! It could have been anyone else!"

"We just had chemistry, you know, so I initiated. Like there's no reason, but it felt right, felt good to be together."

"And he didn't even ask you out, you just asked him?"

"What's wrong with that!" Jinsol interjects herself into the conversation. "I also asked oppa first too."

"Really?" Choerry's shocked by her other unnie.

"Yeah, he saw me as his best friend's little sister, but I liked him, so I went up to him and kissed him! I'd say the results are quite good," she adds with a dopey smile on her face.

"You're texting him right now aren't you?" Haseul jokes.

"Mmhmm!" The two of them bicker, leaving Choerry to drift off on his warm back.

-----

"Oh fuck!" Choerry's startled out of her thoughts as she's spun around. "I can't, fuck ghosts, I don't do ghosts." She looks at the way they have to go and sees a long corridor, complete with a few Sadakos, long hair covering their face, dressed in white gowns and hands outstretched—some sort of haunted high school concept.

"Huh? They're zombies!" she tries to make you think of them differently, but it doesn't help.

"Zombies, ghosts, same difference, I don't like them!" you mutter in a rush. Choerry hurriedly comforts you, gently brushing your face.

"Hey, it's okay. Do you trust me?"

"Trust you?"

"Yes, just look down at your feet, okay?" Choerry has a hand over your eyes. "Whatever you do, don't look up, just make sure you don't trip, and listen to me." You take a deep breath and whirl around.

"I'm ready."

"Okay, just walk forward until I tell you to stop." Choerry encourages you as you go. 

"Yes, one step at a time, you're doing good."

"Take one step to the left, do not look up."

"Now like 3 steps to the right. Omo hello!" Choerry is surprised by one of them, but greets them happily.

"Choerry!"

"Sorry, sorry, we can just walk forward." You fill the images in your head from the sounds—the screech of nails on blackboard, the haunting laughs of children, the unyielding ticks of a loud clock. But Choerry's in your ear, noticing your fear and whispering comforting directions.

"We're almost there, just a few more steps." You only notice you're done when you feel Choerry tap your shoulder and tilt your chin towards her.

"We're done, we finished!" You're so thankful you could kiss her, and she's so pretty up close. Choerry notices the closeness too—you're pretty cute when scared and flustered, and kinda cute regardless. She's already moving closer when she catches hold of herself and blinks rapidly. "You can umm, put me down now."

"Huh? Oh, yeah." You let Choerry down, and when you think you can finally relax a booming voice is heard from behind you.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY? YOU BETTER NOT COME BACK, YOU BETTER RUN, RUN AND NEVER COME BACK!" It seems to grow in volume, as if getting closer and getting angrier, and you grab Choerry by the arm and run further away, clearing the fence surrounding the attraction. A generic voice comes through a much smaller speaker.

"We hope you enjoyed your time here, thank you and we hope to see you again!" The absurd contrast of the two messages makes you break out into laughter, and you hear Choerry's piercing laughter right next to you—you had pulled her along to the exit, and when you stopped you caught her momentum, wrapping her up in a hug. The two of you laugh and smile, happy to be done with the ordeal.

"Thanks for getting me through it."

"Thank you for carrying me through it," Choerry answers back, holding your gaze. The arms you have around her stay there, and she doesn't make any attempt to break out either. You feel your own heard pounding, or is that Choerry's? You meet her sparkling eyes, drawn inexorably to them, wanting to see them closer up. 

But the next pair comes barging through, shouting and screaming just like you two were earlier, and the moment is broken.

"Oh! Sorry!" You quickly get out of the way, only to find that Choerry has stepped in the opposite direction.

"So umm, thanks!" You call out lamely.

"Yeah, thanks!" she calls back. Out of habit she checks her phone, and a few messages pop up.

*Choerry are you out yet?*

*It shouldn't take that long, did she just chicken out and leave?*

*Do they not let her in if she's alone? Is she still back at the entrance?*

She turns to look at you still standing there, on your phone too, and quickly fires a white lie to her unnies.

*Yeah, they didn't let me in, so I just went back, don't worry about me I'm already back home!*

With that done she puts her phone away. As she goes to tap your shoulder you're also turning around, slipping your own phone in your pocket.

"Oh, hey, you're still here?"

"Yeah, my unnies, they ditched me."

"Yeah, my friends too, ditched me as well." From the knowing smile you give each other you both know it didn't matter if any of that was true or not. But the two of you hang around, unsure how to breach the real topic at hand, and more couples come running out until Choerry decides to take the initiative.

"Hey, do you mind coming home with me? I'm still a little scared, don't want to take a cab alone."

"O-Oh, sure, of course."

Choerry's hand felt hot as you helped her into the cab.

"Safely home," you add pointlessly as Choerry unlocks the door.

"Yes, thank you. Please, come in." Daringly she pulls you through the door, and as she holds you close her initiative is rewarded—you're looking at her intensely, her eyes seeming to shimmer again with the sparks that are flying between the two of you. Choerry's heart is racing as you get even closer, and as you lean in head tilted, her own eyes flutter shut, letting the moment take over.

You're kissing Choerry, and her lips are every wonderful adjective you can come up with—soft, rosy, plump, sweet, juicy. You capture her bottom lip, gently sucking on it and finding her absolutely delicious. A little gasp escapes her, and you're cupping her cheek, pulling her back to capture her lips again. You wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer, hand playing with the hem of her sweater. A small hand on your chest stops you in your tracks.

"Sorry, I don't do this normally, or at all." Choerry can't meet your eyes, looking down at the floor.

"Right, I understand, sorry I thought— Yeah." You don't know what else to say, did you misunderstand the situation? Your hands fall away from her, abashed at your rashness. But immediately Choerry's pulling on your t-shirt and leaning into you, and you're feeling her lips on yours again. This time she is more passionate, throwing her arms around your neck, pressing herself fully into you, a hand running through your hair. When she pulls back both of you are breathless, and the spark in her eyes has become a fire.

"But it feels good, feels right, so..." Choerry takes your hands and has them rest on her hips. You press your forehead to Choerry's, watching her mouth hang slightly open when you move your hands slightly, going over the edge of her jeans and brushing circles on her bare skin. 

"Okay, we go as far as you're comfortable with." Choerry's losing herself in the moment, feeling the hairs on your neck stand—you're just as nervous as she is, and she overcompensates with bravado. She kisses you again before pulling away—she pulls her sweater up and over her head, revealing her toned midriff teasingly before her simple white top drops back in place. Her voice is heavy with desire, the words thick in her throat as she tells you how far she wants to go in the few words she can manage.

"All the way." 

You reply in kind, taking off your t-shirt, and your jeans get a little more strained as you see Choerry lick her lip subconsciously, eager eyes taking you in. You kiss her once again, hands sneaking under her thin top as her hands wander your shoulders and chest. Choerry parts her lips, sighing into the kiss, and you let yourself in, drawing a low moan from her. Your tongues dance and fight, and after a fierce battle both of you catch your breath—you take the chance to assure her of your intentions.

"Right there with you."

You're right there with Choerry, on top of her in fact, hungrily plunging your tongue into her mouth as she grips your arms. To Choerry her bed seems floaty, like she's barely laying on it—with how you're kissing her, sucking on her lower lip, it's like you're lifting her off the bed just off that alone! The muscles she feels on your arms only serve to turn her on even more, and the arousal is no more apparent than in the stiff nubs you feel as your hand brushes over her chest, making Choerry wish her top was removed already.

There is one thing Choerry wants to see removed more, and she reaches for your jeans, unbuttoning them and watching you kick it off, showing your desire for her.

"Your turn." Her breath catches as you reach for her jeans, right below her bellybutton. "Still with me?"

"Huh?" Choerry finds your questioning gaze, your fingers on her freshly popped jean button.

"You made a sound, like a squeak." Did she? Choerry's too engrossed in feeling you, unable to keep track of everything happening everywhere on her body, all at once.

"Just really sensitive, everything feels so... much."

"We can go slower." Choerry keeps her eyes locked on you, and you're looking right back at her as you slowly unzip her jeans—she has to remind herself to breathe, she's not sure she has ever been so turned on from such a simple act! You peel the tight jeans down her generous thighs and slim calves, revealing the simple black panties she has on.

"Wow." You let out a small laugh at just how lucky you are tonight, but Choerry tries to cover with her hands, long legs twisting, trying to hide from you.

"Don't laugh, I didn't think I'd be—" You shush her with a kiss, pulling her hands away and gently pushing her legs open with yours.

"No, it's a good wow, you're amazing." You push a knee up between her legs, and you grow even harder. "So sexy, so wet for me."

Choerry gasps, unsure which bolt of pleasure is stronger—your knee brushing against the apex of her thighs, or you saying that she's sexy. Soon it doesn't matter anymore as the constant friction between her thighs is becoming a burn, cauterizing and sealing off any idle thoughts. All she can do is focus on how good everything feels—your hot breath on her neck as you plant a mark on her, hands licentiously having their way with her underneath her top, your warmness both between her legs and on her lips as she leaves mindless hickeys all across your neck.

"Wait! No, don't..." You are halted by Choerry's breathless gasps, but it is a false alarm when you look down—her thighs squeeze around the one she's straddling, and she's openly grinding against you. "I-It feels good." Gone is the bright and cheery tone, replaced with something huskier, downright seductive.

"Okay, do what feels good." Choerry's hands are on your shoulders, and you watch her head sink into the pillow, tilted back as she loses herself in the pleasure. Her delicious midriff undulates as she writhes on your thigh, the little noises she makes causing you to stain your own underwear with precum.

"Mmph!" She's grabbing you by the neck, pulling you against her twisting body to use for leverage—she's bucking herself against you, and with your face pressed against her chest you hear her heartbeat spike, her lungs swelling to take in air—

"Nngh!" Any shout or scream Choerry wanted to make is snuffed out by the pleasure, but you feel her cum all the same, your thigh suddenly getting hot and wet as she rides out her orgasm. "Oh yes... Yes, yes, yes..." All she manages is a sigh followed by softer moans, her grip on you slackening as her entire body begins to relax. Your knee is sore from kneeling on the bed, and you slowly pull away, waiting for her to recover. Thankfully you're not left hanging for too long, and as she pushes herself up she looks at your own "wet spot" on your boxers.

"Sorry I took my time didn't I?" You don't even manage to reply as she takes off her thin white camisole before coming towards you. "I made a mess too, you felt so good." She wipes your shiny thigh with her top, cleaning it up and maybe ruining her top in the process. But both of you are too far gone to care as she discards the rag, fingers pulling on your boxers.

"Can I?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah." Choerry pulls your underwear down, letting your cock spring free. "Oh fuck!" you moan as she daringly wraps a hand around you, making a test stroke.

"Does that feel good?"

"Really good, really really good."

"But we can't end it early can we? We're going all the way." Choerry pulls away, propping herself up on her elbows as she looks at you seductively—for someone who's so bright and cheery, she sure knew how to entice you, and like a moth drawn to a flame you're on top of her once more, hands going straight to her panties.

"My turn?"

"Please." Your fingers tremble a little, but you get ahold of yourself and roll them down her hips, revealing her wetness, still swollen and pink from her orgasm earlier. Much like the rest of Choerry right now it looks delicious, and you're tempted to dive in, but she pushes you off with her feet, kicking her underwear off.

"All the way," she reiterates—Choerry wanted to go all the way, and she wanted to go all the way now.

"Stop me if I'm going too fast," you murmur, positioning yourself between her spread legs.

"No, I trust you." You start with just the proverbial tip, wedging yourself in her. "Wow, it's so big." Choerry blurts out, half-praise, half-concern. She's not wrong either—you feel just how tight she is right from the get go, see the way it must look to her, watching herself be split open. Yet she wants all of it, pushing herself down the bed, just enough to take another half inch of you.

"I want it all the way in me." Choerry holds you close, the pressure between her legs seeming to grow without end as you give her what she wants. Your groans are music to her ears, knowing that it's overwhelming for you too—just like the haunted house earlier, you're experiencing this together. A few seconds later you're pressed on her, and Choerry can feel you throbbing, in time with your heartbeat.

"All the way in... Fuck," you mutter—much like Choerry, you can feel all of her, how, despite her nerves, she's hungry for you, her body trying to draw you in, walls pulling at your shaft. You stay still, both of you breathing deeply, taking it all in.

Then she squirms. Much like she did on your thigh earlier, and it is your sign to move. You draw back, feeling Choerry shudder as you pull out, a balance of delicious friction and wistful emptiness. You push in, and this time her pussy yields easier, the slickness coating your cock making things smoother but just as delightful. 

Now one more time, but faster.

"Ah!" 

Choerry's yelp triggers something in both of you—she can't control herself, so you didn't need to either. This time you no longer stay composed, no longer measured in your movements; No, you're hugging Choerry and *doing what feels good*. With your face buried in her neck, you don't see much, but much like earlier, you don't need to—Choerry's whispering all the directions you need right into your ear.

"Harder, yes harder!"

"Faster, please go faster..."

"Right— Nngh right there, right there!"

Along with a few not-so-useful descriptions.

"You're so deep in me, no one's ever been this deep!"

"Y-You're stretching me, oh my god, please don't stop!"

"I'm so close, please, please!"

"Fuck I'm going to cum so hard..."

Your reply to Choerry makes her pop right away.

"Do what feels good."

"Oh oh oh I'm cumming, I'm cumming! Feels so— Mmm!" Choerry sucks on your neck hard as she combusts, wrapping her legs tightly around you. When she's done you're close yourself, and you need to do something to mix it up.

"You trust me right?"

"Mmhmm?" You sit up and get Choerry to sit in your lap. She thought you wanted her to ride you, but as soon as you're in her again you have her ass in your hands, and she's clinging on to your neck while you stand up.

"Oh god..." With gravity's help you're even deeper in her, and a jolt of pleasure goes through her when you make an experimental thrust.

"See, you're not heavy."

Choerry wants to say that that's not the point, that what is important to her is that you're fucking running your cock through her, kissing the very end of her warmth and making her toes curl.

"Mmph, hnngh... Ah, ah ah ah— mmm!" Yet that's all that comes out when you start thrusting, and Choerry dips her head, succumbing to the sensation of truly going "all the way" with you, your tip nudging against her cervix with every thrust. She's putty in your arms, hanging off you, powerless to do much more than cum, and she cums hard.

"Mmm, ah!" Choerry yelps and braces herself against you, unable to stem the tide of pleasure rushing through her. It starts as a warm wave of slick over your shaft, but as you keep thrusting into her it becomes a splatter against your crotch and your thighs. When she digs her nails against your neck you take that as your sign to stop, and like an awning after a storm Choerry's dripping all over the place, and her husky harsh heaves are loud in the room, the last howls of the storm that just ripped through her. 

"Feels good to trust you."

"I'm glad, but I'm close."

"Good, I was wondering when I could make you feel good. Put me down." You let Choerry down, and she drops to her knees, grabbing your slick shaft and stroking you. You feel too good to notice the slight tremble in Choerry's hand—you had just given her the strongest orgasm she's had in a while, and yet she finds herself wanting more.

But she definitely wanted to repay your efforts first.

"Look at me." Choerry directs, and you listen. She's still incredibly pretty, but the large round eyes that twinkled as she laughed and screamed and whooped with you at the haunted house are now tinted with a shade of lust. Choerry looks innocent, but only innocent enough for you to stain. You're pointed right at her face, but you're quickly pointed to the back of her throat as she takes you in, distorting her beauty even more.

"C-Choerry..." you moan, meaning to tell her how good she feels or some such, but those thoughts fly out the windows when she starts ruining herself on you, tongue doing things that you never imagined she would do—around and under your shaft, swirling right over your tip. Your legs quiver and shake as it all becomes too much, and Choerry grabs your hips, pulling you deeper into her.

"Fuck!" The first two shots go right down her throat, and then you're out of her mouth. You're powerless in front of Choerry—eyes closed and hand stroking you furiously, all you can do is stand there and let her do it. You can't take your eyes off her, unable to hold back the surge of pleasure and cum that begins to cover her face. You let out a low moan of relish as she extends your orgasm, rubbing your tip and getting more makeup-ruining seed all over her as a reward. When she stops you're staggered and she's completely glazed, a particularly heavy blob sliding off her cheek.

"Oh shit... Uh hold on." You scramble to find her tissues, but given that you're in her apartment, she beats you to it with a soft laugh, beginning to wipe her face clean. The pretty and sweet Choerry reappears as she removes your load.

"There, all better."

"You umm— There's still a little bit." Choerry makes to wipe the little bit still on her lip, but she thinks better of it, smirking and making a show of licking it off, reminding you of what she can be just a moment ago.

"Mm, salty."

"Wow, you were amazing," you blurt out lamely—what else do you say when you've busted down their throat and covered them in cum?

"I'm glad you liked it, it was great for me too." She makes a show of cleaning up between her legs, slowly bringing the tissues up her creamy thighs and removing the slick shine off them. Cleanup is supposed to be awkward but necessary, yet Choerry makes it hot, showing you just how good you made her feel earlier. "I'll be right back."

As Choerry takes the soaked tissues to the restroom, her thoughts are a bit of a mess, much like the rest of her. She doesn't remember the last time she came that hard or that wetly, and as she flushes the tissues down she briefly brushes between her legs, gasping at her own findings—Choerry's still sticky, a gooey mess. She finally understands Haseul's drunken confessions.

-----

"How do you know oppa's the best you ever had? You haven't even been sleeping around! Or have you?" Choerry asks incredulously, not believing her unnie's declarations.

"Yah, of course I haven't!" Haseul looks around, and motions Choerry to get closer. "You know how when you do it alone, you're happy with one round?" Choerry blushes but nods, she knows what Haseul means exactly—the satiating satisfaction of getting herself off once is usually enough. "Well when I do it with oppa, I just... Want more. Want to be closer to him, want to, you know, receive more 'love' from him." Haseul replaces the crude 4-letter word in her head with something nicer. "But don't guys only do it once, how can you get him to do it again?"

"Choreo."

"Choreo?"

"Mmhmm, our choreo has sexy parts right? The ones where the fans scream because it's just a little too sexy but fine since it's only for a line or two? Just do something in those positions."

"I just bend over, it's mm... Easy to get him to do it again..." Jinsol mumbles, half-asleep already. Before Choerry could ask them more they both headslam the table, falling asleep in their drunkness.

-----

It is with those thoughts in mind that Choerry returns to the bedroom.

"You should umm, stay the night, it's late."

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose or anything."

"No, I wouldn't mind at all."

Choerry watches you put on your boxers and t-shirt, debating with herself how forward she wanted to be and what choreo she should use.

"Which side should I take?"

"Hmm? Whichever you want," she answers distractedly. It is a little later, when you have an arm around her, that she settles on Flower Rhythm.

Just as you are drifting into sleep, you feel the weight on your arm lessen. You take a peek and immediately start waking up—Choerry's holding a hairtie in her mouth, bunching up her hair behind before tying it off. Even that simple act is hot, and it gets even hotter when she bends over, getting on all fours right next to you. You're wide awake now, but Choerry only notices it when she pulls down your boxers and finds a half-stiff cock in front of her.

"Oh, you're up?"

"Only halfway," you manage to joke. "I felt you move, and then I saw you tie your hair and then now... Yeah, I'm awake."

"Let's get you all the way awake then." She takes you in her mouth again, but this time, more than her skills with her tongue it is the sight of Choerry bent over and wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and boy shorts that gets you harder than steel and eager to pump some of that iron into her.

"I'm wide awake, just stay there." Choerry reacts viscerally to your rasp—she felt just how hard you were in her mouth, and now you're going behind her to... She gets lower on the bed and curves her back a little more, pushing her butt a little higher—god she wants this so bad! All she can think about is you looming over her, grabbing her hips and—

"Ah!" Her shorts are yanked down unceremoniously, bunching at her knees—Choerry's forgotten that she's still wearing clothes, and in a flurry she pulls her t-shirt off and kicks her shorts away. She blushes a little at how eager and direct she's being, but she's grateful that you don't say anything; Or rather, she's grateful that you're already grabbing her by the hips, and that delicious pressure is growing between her legs immediately.

"Fuck yes..." you hiss, enjoying sinking yourself into Choerry for a second time tonight. Despite having stretched her deep and spread her walls once, she's just as tight as before, and you have to firmly push into her, drawing a loud moan.

"Ohhh yes! Ah..." Choerry's labored breaths give you pause, and you stop moving, letting her get used to you again, but she turns back to face you, beckoning you to lean over her. "Don't worry about me, you feel so good. Do what feels good for you." She emphasizes this by leaning forward and pushing back, making sure you feel her butt pressed against your hips. It's utterly unholy the way she's flush against you, urging you to hilt yourself deep in her.

Choerry braces as you grab her hips and pull back, but nothing prepares her for the sharp spike in pleasure when you snap your hips forward, and her arms give way immediately. She's wrinkling the bedsheet, biting it with her teeth and grabbing it with her hands as you pump into her. She's moaning into the bed, her muffled whimpers joining the solid smack of flesh on flesh ringing in her head. Each thrust leaves her gasping for more, and her body reacts with a mind of its own, pushing her cunt back against your rod, just to get you back in her faster, harder, deeper!

"Fuck Choerry... holy shit!" She feels like velvet and silk, trying to tug you deeper into her each time. The rest of her toned body is just as enticing—the way her shoulders flex when she pushes herself back at you, and you follow the slim line of her body to— Oh how her thighs ripple when you slam into her from behind! It's one thing to bounce her in the air on top of you, it's another to take her from behind, bouncing your hips off her ass, and you wanted more.

"Hnngh!" Choerry's moans grow louder in volume when she feels a hand on her lower back, forcing her to arch her back even more. You're taking charge now, and the new angle causes you to rub right against her g-spot, the pleasure tugging Choerry's eyes back, rolling them into her head. Her legs flex, trying to push her ass higher, to give you an even steeper angle to fuck her at. But no, you grab her hips and hold her down, seeming to fix her at the perfect height to pump down and forward into her.

Over and over you slam down on Choerry, striking at her g-spot repeatedly, numbing the rest of her body and replacing all of it with pleasure. At some point she begins to cum, her toes curling, teeth biting into the bedsheets to stop herself from screaming. A tidal wave of joy slams into her... And then another one, and then one more—there's no end in sight!

Now Choerry understands why Haseul does that move in Flower Rhythm so well, she must get fucked in this position so often, because it feels fucking amazing. Choerry doesn't even have to do anything, just lie there and take it and cum. And cum she does too, ecstasy consuming her thoughts as you fuck her silly. At some point she's no longer biting the sheets, and she's yelping and wailing, trying to swallow her screams and failing spectacularly. 

"Feels so good Choerry, I'm close!" She keeps getting tighter and wetter, you're not sure how long you can last.

"I-I'm cumming!" It doesn't even come out right, Choerry wanted to say "I've been cumming!" But she's been trapped in her orgasms the whole damn time, cumming her brains out and barely coherent, a mess between her legs and her ears. Yet you still fuck her, pounding her until her whole body feels like jello. You treat her words as approval to finish, and the bedsprings creak loudly, the bed rattling faster and faster as you chase your own peak.

A small groan escapes her when you pull out, and the slick that should be coating your cock comes out as a small squirt against your thighs. Both of you moan loudly when you cum, the hot jizz all over her back just as satisfying for Choerry as it is for you. You fire large spurts all over her, covering her pale skin with your thick load.

"Damn! Shit!" You're left speechless as your legs go weak, forcing you to sit on the bed. Choerry similarly slumps forward, sighing as she lands on the bed with a thump. "Are you okay?" Both of you are silent for a while, gasping deeply to catch your breath and process the fuck that just happened.

"Yeah, feels so good..." She tries to reach behind herself, and you quickly wipe the cum off for her. Choerry turns herself around immediately, pulling you into a passionate, almost desperate kiss. She's sucking on your lower lip, tugging with her teeth, trying to draw you in deeper. You reply in kind, tongue pushing past her lips, wanting to suck all the oxygen out of her, to leave her breathless once more. You're stirring for a third round, but you recognize the lack of sparkle in Choerry's eyes—not dimmed by lust, but dulled by fatigue. It's time to call it a night.

"We should rest."

"Huh? Sure... my clothes, where?" From the sleepiness and pleasure rendering her brain earlier Choerry makes just enough sense, and you grab her clothes, helping her slip them on before she bundles under the covers. You manage to find your own boxers and put them on before joining her in bed. As you sidle next to her under the covers she shifts herself closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

"Good night," You murmur, and a smile is all she manages before her eyelids droop, and she's off to dreamland, a hand on your chest feeling your heartbeat. You just hope it doesn't wake her up.

That amazing smile.

You fall asleep eventually. When you wake up, you unfortunately don't see Choerry snuggling next to you, but you do hear the clink of cutlery on dishes outside.

"Good morning!" Choerry calls out cheerily as you step out of the bedroom. You rub the sleep from your eyes and blink—you blink very quickly. Choerry's dressed simply in a white singlet and powder blue shorts, there's a bit of red on her neck from where you left your mark last night, but she looks otherwise flawless.

"Something to eat?"

"Sure, whatever you're having there I guess."

She quickly gets you a bowl of granola and yogurt. There is a quiet awkwardness to the whole thing, and you wonder if you should have put on all of your clothes before coming out rather than just your t-shirt. Choerry's eating silently next to you, both of you thinking about the same thing.

What do I even say?

"So umm, I have to go to work later." Choerry states quietly.

"Right, let me get out of your way, let you prepare—"

"No! I mean, there's no rush. Please, finish your food. Oh..." She notices a bit of yogurt on your lip.

"What is it?"

"You have a little—" She points to her own lip, but you miss it, because for a second she looks so pretty you can't tell left from right. "No, let me get it" She leans in—

She's kissing you again. Choerry's smudging the yogurt, tugging on your upper lip, cleaning it for you. She often joked about how her unnies were always finding chances to steal away and be with their boyfriends, but she understands their actions a little better now, now she's just like them. The attraction is magnetic, and as soon as she's close enough she wants to kiss you, touch you, feel you against her body— Fuck she's wet again. Choerry's shorts land in a pile on the floor and she swings her legs across your lap, straddling you. 

"One more time. Want to feel good again." Choerry murmurs. Now the passionate and desperate kiss from last night returns in full force. You drop your cutlery with a clang, and she's light enough that you can squirrel your boxers down just the right amount.

"Ch-Choerry!" Your tip is engulfed in her wetness almost immediately, and she's whining into your gasp, both reactions to just how needy and ready she is for you.

"Let me ride you!" She's asking, but not really, as Choerry's already starting to rock her hips back and forth on top of you. More and more of you slips into her, and her husky moans get louder and louder. You're buried in her neck, and Choerry let's her top slip down, an invitation for you to play with her chest. 

"Mmm!" She whines when you kiss along her bust line, hands on your head urging you to do more. You make her slow down, steadying her so that you can take a nipple between your lips, gently sucking and licking it. "Yes, just like that..." The frantic riding settles into a slower but no less intense grind, as if you playing with her tits has made her tighten around you, and she's savoring every inch of your cock she's taking even more. You play with both of her breasts, and her moans get quieter and faster, her lungs struggling to keep up with the sinuous and sinful exercise she's putting herself through.

"Mmm, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" Choerry flings her arms around your neck and crushes you against her. She buries her face in your hair to muffle her cry, the vibrations rattling you to your core. You help her along her orgasm, pulling her waist towards you each time she clenches around you, adding wave after wave of pleasure and extending her peak. When she finally recovers your connection is sticky, and Choerry is a bit of a wreck—top pulled down, hair mussed, a pale skin flushed with pleasure.

"J-Just one more..." she mumbles, beginning to ride you again. Choerry's not really "pent up", but her body's asking the question her heart hasn't put into words yet—"Where were you all this time?!" Now she's more surprised that the unnies spend so much time with the group—if she had a boyfriend like you she would be spending as much time as possible with you and not the group! She throws her head back and lets out a low moan, hilting herself and cumming again all over your cock.

"Fuck Choerry, I'm close, you need to get off!" You're throbbing hard inside her. If last night was Choerry losing it because of your fucking, today morning is Choerry taking charge, fucking you, and making you lose it—you're going to cum even harder than last night. She's sweating, her entire body just as hot and wet as her walls are wrapped around you. At your warning she seems to ride you even harder, her moans long and low.

"Choerry!"

"Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Just do what feels good, trust me." Choerry's holding your face in her hands, begging you to say yes.

"Yes, I— Oh fuck! Trust you!" You can't form a coherent sentence either.

"Just tell me when, tell me when you feel good, last one!" Your hands settle on her waist, trying to steady her, but Choerry's movements only get more intense, borderline violent—her knees dig into your hips and she's bouncing herself in your lap, your thighs taking a beating against the chair. 

"Want you to cum, please, please..." She's determined to drag you off the cliff with her, struggling to maintain eye contact with you as her chin dips down, her body bracing and holding off her own orgasm best she can. The way she calls out to you, moans for you, her walls clenching around you with raw need, it all becomes too much.

"Fuck, now!" you groan, and Choerry has a split second to decide if she should get off you or sink even deeper in your lap, but the only thought her in mind is—

Do what feels good.

"Fuck yes, oh yes, ohhh yes yes yes! Oh my god!" Her words and your moans ring loudly in the apartment. Choerry spreads her legs and lowers her hips, and your arm around her waist pulls her in on instinct, both of you making sure that she takes every last inch and every last drop of cum into her. The burst of warmth in her womb and surge of bliss rips through her body, tearing a scream from her as she loses control. Choerry tries to close her legs, as if it's too much to experience, but all it does is trap you in place, keeping you there as you continue pumping her full of thick seed.

"Ahh, it's so hot, so much..." And it quickly becomes too much, the flow of cum into Choerry seeming to reverse—a sinful mix of you and her leak out the sides, coating your shaft as the two of you tremble and shudder, tangled together in the heat of explosive intimacy. When Choerry manages to gather herself again she sees you still recovering, head tilted back and looking like a man totally drained. Only now does she wonder about her decision—was it reckless, was it safe, was it what she wanted? Yes, yes, and yes. But there is one question Choerry doesn't know the answer to—What would you think? Would you think less of her? She told you she doesn't normally do this, yet she just let you—

"Worried?" you ask, knocking her out of her reverie.

"Yes, I mean no, not about that, I'm umm, safe." How does she even ask a question like that? How does she even begin to phrase it.

Meanwhile you have your own worries. You wanted this to be more than a one-off, but Choerry is so far out of reach. From the waist up, blushing slightly as she fixes her top and hair, Choerry looked like a virtual angel. Yet she's in your lap, panties pulled to the side, with what's left of your morning wood leaking out of her freshly fucked pink pussy. What do you even say to someone like her, the perfect girlfriend and perfectly ruinable lover, to appeal to her? You settle for reassuring her for now.

"I'm with you all the way, whatever happens." Choerry opens her mouth to dispute, to tell you that's not what she's worried about, but as you brush her hair tenderly, she realizes you've answered everything she couldn't put into words. When she leans in, asking for a kiss with a pout, you realize you've said everything you needed to say, and you give her a kiss happily.

The magic ends when an alarm on her phone sounds.

"I need to leave soon, do you mind getting me some tissues?"

"Oh, yeah of course." You find her the tissues, and she does her best to quickly clean up. "Should I go first? I'll give you your privacy."

"No no, I'll be done quickly, the rest I can do at the salon. Here's your clothes." Choerry disappears into the bedroom as you get dressed in the living room.

"You go to a salon for work?" you ask her as she comes out fully dressed.

"Yeah umm for makeup, I'm an idol."

"Oh, so... we can't meet again can we?" You have a sinking feeling—after the best night of your life, you might be facing the worst day right after.

"No, we just have to be careful, go to less popular spots, or at odd times, stuff like that. I... hope that's okay?" Choerry holds her breath, praying that it isn't a dealbreaker.

"Yeah, no that's great, we can do that." Both of you breathe a sigh of relief internally as you enter the elevator. "I'd love to take you out somewhere quiet, one where we're not jumping out of our shoes every few minutes."

"Yes, no spiders and zombies."

"And ghosts," you remind her.

"Right, they're the same thing." Choerry realizes that the elevator is close to ground floor, that she's close to being in the public eye once again. She takes your phone and puts her number in, shushing your indignant sputtering about zombies and ghosts with a peck on your lips. 

"It's a date then, don't make me wait."

She feels her phone vibrate almost immediately after she leaves you, and she's smiling at your invitation for next weekend as she tumbles into the van with the other members.

"Choerry yah, did you get back okay yesterday? I'm sorry they wouldn't let you in, you could've just stayed home the whole time!"

"Oh no unnie it was fine, I'm glad I went all the way."

A/N: Haunted house fic a month after Halloween lmao. Anyways been wanting to write Choerry for a long while but didn't have the best setup for it until now, so I kinda overcooked it with scenes and pics XD Hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading!

[chronicsyd]

I'm gonna be so serious, y'all are remembering POWDER and Ekko and not JINX and Ekko when screaming about how much you "wanted Timebomb endgame over Caitvi"

shoving JINX in a relationship with her current mental state is not a good writing choice whatsoever, because Ekko literally had to keep rewinding time because she kept trying to kill herself. If Anything, That relationship would be rushed and fanservice because they would have jumped the gun in 2 episodes vs the 2 seasons it took for Caitvi and showing their ups and downs throughout their whole relationship.

The alternate universe works because Powder doesn't become Jinx and the two don't separate, unlike this universe where the two have been at odds for 7 years and almost kill each other back in Ep 7 of S1.

"But Cait never said sorry!" she didn't really have to, because Vi never stopped being in love with the girl that she Knows Cait is at heart, the Cocktail Molotov scene in Act 2 makes that VERY apparent. Cait saying that she was waiting for Vi to recover to address Jinx is the start of it because Act 1 Cait wouldn't have even Considered doing that, because she was so gung-ho about putting a bullet into Jinx that she Demanded Vi move out of the way for her to do so. She holds herself accountable with the mistakes she's made ("We can't erase our mistakes. None of us." that wasn't just a line targeted at Jinx to prove a point, there's deeper meaning behind it), and moving the guards out of the cell proving that she trusts Vi and her judgment on Jinx is that apology, Caitlyn has always been an "acts of service" kinda person over being a "verbal" kinda person; it's all over the place in S1 but Especially here in S2. But even after she takes Vi's shirt off, you could tell by her eyes and body language that she was most likely going to stop herself again to apologize for hitting her because the wound was in the same spot she initially hit, which was part of the lead up for This wound to even happen, but Vi's the one that just pulls her back in instead.

I'm also gonna add on that Vi thinks she made the wrong choice in trusting Jinx and thinking Jinx's changed because Jinx locked her in the cell and ran away again. So why in the Hell would Vi go chasing after her Again to be met with the same result time and time again? Vi isn't responsible for Jinx's mental health and y'all saying that are just weird. And I think it's apparent that Stillwater probably wasn't even in the top 10 things in her head being with Caitlyn, she was just running wild on emotions that she hasn't allowed herself to feel like-- Ever. And even if it Was Vi probably would have said she wasn't comfortable being in a jail cell of all places.

What was I talking about? Oh right, Timebomb.

Like Yes, it's shitty that Ekko doesn't get a happy ending considering he's the most unproblematic in the entire show. But people tend to forget that at the end of the day, Arcane is a TRADGEDY. It's not She-ra, it's not The Owl House, it wasn't going to be wrapped up in a neat little bow where everyone gets to smile and walk into the sunset with their loved ones, especially considering the fact that this season's being used as build ups to other stories, it's relatively clear that this isn't the last we're going to see of a lot of these characters. When they come back into play? well... who's to say?

But also, let's address that a lot of the Caitvi hate is just straight up homophobia at this point because a lot of people can understand Mel's admission to manipulating Jayce as an apology but Cait's actions we're suddenly braindead and need shit completely spelled out. like good lord I'm so tired of this. Y'all would NEVER have survived Catradora let me tell ya...

(My next post is gonna be a long winded rant about Maddie so stay tuned for that...)

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 2003 - i can see us lost in the memory

chapter summary: After searching for answers about his past, Logan comes back to the mansion after finding nothing at Alkali Lake. When he comes back he sees you, the only thing he can remember.

word count: 6.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i skipped x1 (mostly because i felt like i couldn't place reader into the story and have her actually make a change in it) so we're starting with x2! don't worry, next chapter is going to make you sick with tooth rotting fluff

(also thank you for 700 followers!! and happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate! <3)

warnings/tags: follows events of x2 (strays slightly), reader is a mutant with time manipulation powers, reader wears glasses, shy!reader, light violence

series masterlist - chapter 6 → chapter 8

Alkali Lake held nothing. No clues, no leads, nothing. And because of that he’s still drifting, unable to remember anything but you.

He’s not sure when the last time he saw you was, he can only remember that he’s had you 5 times and lost you 5 times.

But now… now he has nothing but fragments, barely more than dreams, and a dull ache he can’t ignore, even if he can no longer remember the details. He knows you were there, remembers the way your touch soothed him, the warmth of your voice—and each time he replays those memories, he feels something deeper, sharper, tugging at the places in him that will never mend.

---

Logan opened the doors to the mansion, Rogue walking towards him. “Logan!” She went up to hug him before quickly pulling back.

“You miss me, kid?”

“Not really.” She shook her head sarcastically.

“Hmm. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay. How are you?”

“Who’s this?” Logan gestured with his head behind Rogue.

Rogue turned around, “oh, this is Bobby. He’s my- ”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Bobby cut in, shaking Logan’s hand using his ice powers, “call me Ice Man.”

Logan pulled away with a slight scowl, “right. Boyfriend? So how do you guys…?”

Bobby and Rogue shared a look, “well, we’re still working on that.” He said.

“Look who’s come back. Just in time.” Ororo spoke, as she walked down the stairs.

“For what?” Logan questioned.

“We need another babysitter.”

“Babysitter?”

“Nice to see you again, Logan.” Ororo said kindly.

“Hi, Logan.” Jean spoke, announcing herself as she walked down the stairs.

Logan briefly looked her way, “Jean.”

“Uh, I should go and get the jet ready.” Ororo said quietly.

“Yeah, well, it was good to meet you.” Bobby grabbed Rogue’s hand, “come on, let’s go.”

“Bye, Logan. I’ll see- I’ll see you later!” Rogue called out.

Jean walked in front of Logan, “Storm and I are heading to Boston. We won’t be gone long. The professor wants us to track down a mutant who attacked the president.”

“So it was a mutant.” Logan responded.

“You’ll be here when we get back- unless you plan on running off again.”

Logan tilted his head slightly. “Oh, I could—” His words trailed off as he caught sight of you. The stack of papers in your hands wobbled as you came down the stairs, muttering under your breath. He watched you, the tilt of your head as you pushed your glasses back up, the way you carefully balanced the papers in your hands.

You. He knew you. He knew that face, that presence. It hit him like a punch to the gut, an undeniable recognition buried beneath layers of fractured memories. You were the only thing that came back to him clearly in all the chaos. The short-lived lives you had, and every time it ended up with you dead in his arms.

He blinked, processing, as if you’d vanish if he looked away. You glanced up, catching his stare, and you stopped mid-step, eyes widening a little.

“Oh, uh… hi,” you said, awkwardly adjusting your glasses.

“Hi,” he echoed, still staring, as if searching for something familiar in the way you moved.

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, then tried a smile. “You’re… Logan, right?”

He swallowed, feeling something catch in his throat. “Yeah. Logan.”

Breaking the tension, Scott walked down the stairs, “find what you were looking for, Logan?”

Logan barely acknowledged Scott’s words, his gaze fixed on you. The room, the people around him, the mansion itself—they all blurred, faded, became nothing more than static in the background. He knew you. The only thing he remembered clearly, despite all the fog in his mind, was you.

The stack of papers shifted in your hands as you glanced between him and Scott, your unease clear. It was like you sensed something, too, even if you couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Uh, no, not exactly,” Logan finally replied, his voice gruff, his eyes still on you. “Thought I’d… found something. Guess not.”

Scott didn’t seem too interested in probing. “Well, welcome back. Make yourself at home.”

But Logan barely heard him. He watched as you attempted a shy smile, not quite meeting his eyes. “I… I should go.” You hesitated, lifting the papers as if they’d shield you. “It was nice meeting you, Logan.”

He nodded, his throat dry. “Same.”

You hurried past, your steps soft but quick, almost like you were escaping.

Scott raised an eyebrow at Logan, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Didn’t know you were one for the shy ones.”

Logan shot him a look that could’ve split wood, but Scott just shrugged and walked off, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts.

For a moment, Logan debated following you. He’d known you before; he was sure of it. And even if he couldn’t recall the exact details, there was no mistaking the pull he felt, the way his chest tightened just being in your presence. He couldn’t remember much, barely fragments, yet you were a constant. And every time, he’d lost you. Every damn time.

---

After double checking that everyone was out of their rooms, whether taken or already escaped, you made your way to the secret tunnel, hitting the paneled wall as it opened.

You saw Rogue, Bobby, John, and Logan running down the hall. “Go on,” you said, letting the kids go through before you did. You noticed no one behind you as the door slid down, closing.

“Logan!” Rogue called out.

Bobby and John had already started to run down the tunnel while you stayed by the wall, ear pressed against it trying to hear what was happening.

Rogue stayed by you, clearly worried about Logan. You opened the door quietly as Bobby and John came back. It was quiet in the hall, Logan was walking slowly toward the older man as your eyes briefly fluttered shut, pausing the intruders in time.

“Logan, come on. Let’s go.” Rogue yelled out.

“Logan,” you said gently, as he finally turned his head towards the group.

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

“But we won’t.” Rogue responded.

Logan contemplated for a few moments before walking towards you, “go. Keep going.” Logan entered the tunnel as the door closed behind him while you un-paused the men in the hall.

The five of you ran down the tunnel before climbing up a ladder to the garage. “Come on, get in. Get in!” Logan said.

You went to open the passenger door to the back when a large, warm hand landed on your waist, the grip warm and familiar even though you knew you'd never been this close to him before. Your breath hitched, and you glanced over your shoulder, only to meet his intense gaze as he gently nudged you toward the front seat. His hand lingered a second longer than it needed to, his touch almost hesitant, as if he was committing the feel of you to memory.

“Front seat, Y/N,” he murmured.

“R-Right. Thanks,” you stammered, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks as you slid into the passenger seat. He followed, taking his place behind the wheel, while Rogue, Bobby, and John piled into the back.

“This is Cyclops’s car.” Bobby said.

“Oh, yeah?” Logan unsheathed a singular claw, stabbing it into the ignition and turning on the car. The garage doors opened as the car sped out.

“What the hell was that back there?” John finally asked.

“Stryker.” Logan answered. “His name is Stryker.”

“Who is he?” Rogue questioned.

“I can’t remember.” Logan said quietly.

Rogue, after a few moments of silence, took off the dog tags around her wrist, passing them to Logan in the front, “here. This is yours.”

Even though you couldn’t see the kids in the back, you could tell they were uncomfortable with the silence. John leaned forward, “I don’t like uncomfortable silences.”

“What are you doing?” Rogue asked from beside him.

John turned on the radio as music played loudly from the car’s stereo’s, “bye, bye, bye…” Everyone groaned at the loud intrusion as John promptly turned it back off.

But, a small compartment opened, revealing a sleek metal device. “I don’t think that’s the CD player.” John said.

Logan grabbed it, twisting it in his hands. It blipped once, “whoa,” he muttered. Logan looked at John momentarily, “sit back.”

“Where we going?” John asked.

“Storm and Jean are in Boston. We’ll head that way.” Logan answered.

Bobby looked off to the side, “my parents live in Boston.”

“Good.” Logan said.

---

It was morning when you arrived at Bobby’s parents’ house. He unlocked the front door and stepped inside, “mom! Dad! Ronny! Is anybody home?” No one responded, the house was empty. Bobby looked at Rogue, “I’ll try and find you some clothes.” Bobby then looked over at John, who was continuously flicking his lighter open, “don’t burn anything.”

Logan was in the kitchen, trying to get the phone, or comm device he wasn’t sure, to work. He put it to his ear, “hello?” Static crackled over the device, “hello?” Logan asked again. “Come on, Jean. Where are you?”

You had just freshened up a bit when the door opened, Bobby’s family entering the house, looking at Logan in the kitchen with an open beer bottle.

“Hey, Ronny, next time you…” Bobby’s father started, but stopped when he saw Logan. “Who the hell are you?”

“Uh…” Logan pointed at the stairs as Bobby ran down them.

“Bobby…?”

“Honey, aren’t you supposed to be at school?” Bobby’s mother asked. Rogue quietly walked down the stairs.

“Bobby, who is this guy?”

“Uh… this is Professor Logan.” Bobby paused before speaking again, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

Soon, you all ended up in the living area, the kids and Bobby’s parents sitting down on the couch with you and Logan standing in the doorway.

“So, uh, when did you first know you were a… a…” Bobby’s mother trailed off.

“A mutant?” John spoke up, still flicking his lighter open and closed.

“Would you cut that out?” she said.

“You have to understand, we thought Bobby was going to a school for the gifted.” his father spoke.

“Bobby is gifted.” Rogue cut in.

“We know that. We just didn’t realize…”

His mother cut off her husband, “we still love you, Bobby. It’s just… this mutant problem is a little…”

“What mutant problem?” Logan interrupted, leaning against the other side of the doorway as you with his arms crossed.

“…complicated.” she finished.

Bobby’s father spoke again, “what exactly are you a professor of Mr. Logan?”

“Art.”

“Well, you should see what Bobby can do.” Rogue said.

Bobby leaned forward, gently touching his mother’s teacup with one finger as the tea turned to ice.

“Bobby…” his mother trailed off. She flipped the teacup on its side as the ice slid to the plate.

“I can do a lot more than that.”

His mother shakily put the plate and teacup on the glass table as the cat jumped up and started to lick the ice. Bobby’s brother Ronny left the room with a quiet anger.

“Ronny?” His mother called out as he went up the stairs. “This is all my fault.”

John spoke up, “actually, they discovered that males are the ones who carry the mutant gene and pass it on, so it’s his fault.”

A few moments later, the comm device started to beep. “Oh, God…” Logan took the device out of his pocket and started to walk to the sliding door, “it’s for me.”

“Bobby… have you tried… not being a mutant?” His mother asked.

Logan came back inside and locked the sliding door, “we have to go now. Now!”

“Why?” Rogue questioned. “Logan, what’s wrong?”

He walked to the front door, claws extended and you and the kids following to come face to face with police officers on the front lawn, point guns at you.

“Drop the knives and put your hands in the air.” An officer ordered from their right.

“What’s going on here?” Logan muttered.

“Ronny.” Bobby answered, coming to the realization.

“I said, drop the knives!” The officer ordered again.

Glass shattered from inside the house, “turn around! Up against the wall! Up against the wall!” An officer ordered Bobby’s parents, still in the living area.

“This is just a misunderstanding.” Logan said.

“Put the knives down!”

Logan turned to look at the officer, “I can’t. Look,” he raised his arm slowly as the officer fired a shot, straight into Logan’s forehead.

Rogue screamed and you gasped as Logan hit the patio floor.

“All right, the rest of you- on the ground now!” The same officer ordered.

You, Bobby, and Rogue slowly sank to the ground, but John stayed standing.

“Look, kid, I said on the ground!”

“We don’t want to hurt you, kid.” The officer on the other side said.

“You know all those dangerous mutants you hear about on the news?” John flicked open his lighter as you murmured his name, “I’m the worst one.” He blasted fire at the officer who shot Logan, sending him off the patio. He turned and did the same to the woman on the other side, then inside the house at the two officers.

John turned forward, blasting fire at the officers on the front lawn, the car exploding, before doing the same to another police car. A siren sounded down the street, coming to the house, as John blasted another stationary car by the front lawn, throwing the moving car off track. He blasted that car too.

Rogue, on the ground in front of you, took off her white glove and grabbed John’s ankle. The fire in his hands died off as Rogue stopped the fires surrounding the police cars and lawn.

The bullet popped out of Logan’s head as he woke up, the Blackbird slowly landing in the street. Logan stood up, cracking his neck. Bobby and the kids rushed off the stairs first, heading to the jet.

Logan instinctively put a hand on the small of your back, not pushing you or guiding you just… resting there. You took a quick glance up at him before reverting your gaze back to what was ahead of you.

John was the first one to walk up the ramp, and the first one to see Kurt turn in his chair. “Guten tag.” Kurt greeted.

The rest of you got onto the jet, buckling in, “who the hell is this?” Logan asked.

“Kurt Wagner. But in the Munich circus, I was known as the Incredible Nightcrawler.”

“As, save it. Storm?”

“We’re out of here.” The engines powered up as the ship jerked slightly while taking off.

---

“How far are we?” Logan asked, walking up behind Jean’s chair.

“We’re actually coming up on the mansion now.” Jean replied, as the console started to beep.

“I’ve got two signals approaching.” Ororo said, “coming in fast.”

“Unidentified aircraft, you are ordered to descend to 20,000 feet. Return with our escort to Hanscom Air Force Base. You have ten seconds to comply.”

“Wow, somebody’s angry.” Ororo commented.

Logan looked back at John, “I wonder why.”

“We are coming up alongside you to escort you to Hanscom Air Force Base. Lower your altitude now.” The two planes come up on both sides of the jet, “repeat-lower your altitude to 20,000 feet. This is your last warning.”

The planes started to fly behind, “they’re falling back.” Ororo spoke. Rapid beeping sounded out from the console. “They’re marking us.”

“What?” Logan asked.

“They’re going to fire! Hang on!” Ororo started to fly the jet in a defensive position as they buckled into their seats. “I got to shake them.”

The jet briefly flew upside down then righted itself, “please don’t do that again.” John said.

“I agree.” Logan remarked. “Don’t we have any weapons in this heap?”

The sky started to darken as dark clouds formed, quickly turning into tornadoes. The jet started to shake from the heavy winds as Ororo tried getting the two planes off their tails.

Once their radar was clear, Ororo stopped, the sky brightening back to its natural state.

“Everybody okay back there?” Jean questioned.

“No,” Logan answered simply.

Rapid beeping sounded out from the console once again, “oh, my God, there’s two of them,” Ororo said. Jean used her powers and took out one of the missiles, “there’s one more.” The remaining missile continued flying closer to them, “Jean?”

Jean gasped, “oh, God!” At the last second, Jean directed the missile slightly up, causing the back end of the jet to blow open.

Rogue, who wasn’t buckled in, flew out the back as Bobby yelled for her. Kurt briefly looked back before disappearing and then reappearing in the jet, right by the pilot’s seat next to Ororo and Jean as the jet nosedived.

The panels in the ship began to crackle as metal creaked and the back of the jet repaired itself. “Jean?” Ororo asked.

“It’s not me.” Jean answered, as the jet suddenly stopped, hovering over an older man and woman you didn’t recognize.

---

You had your head and arms buried deep into the jet's console, a strand of hair falling in front of your face as you tried to twist one more wire into place. The tech was scrambled from the missile hit, panels still flickering with bursts of static, and while it wasn’t exactly in your wheelhouse, you knew enough to give it a try. Besides, it kept your hands busy while the rest of the team talked to Erik around the fire and the kids set up tents.

After some time, you walked down the stairs of the jet, mostly for a small break from the incessant lighting and saw Logan smoking a cigar by the ramp. You almost turned around and walked back up, until he turned to look at you, more than halfway down the stairs.

You gulped and played with the tool in your hands as Logan looked at his cigar briefly, noticing the smoke was frozen in the air. He turned his gaze to the trees nearby also taking note that they were frozen as well; no wind blowing through their leaves.

“Ya always freeze time when you get nervous?” Logan tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you, trapped in your own nervous suspension of time. You gave a tight, embarrassed smile, the tool in your hands twisting around your fingers as you took a deep breath and forced yourself to let go of the freeze.

“No. Only sometimes,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat. The trees resumed their gentle sway, and the smoke from his cigar curled upward lazily again. Logan watched the subtle shift, something almost playful glinting in his gaze.

He took another drag of his cigar, eyes not leaving you. “So, what’s got you nervous?”

Your fingers fumbled with the tool. “It’s, um… I don’t usually come across people who…” You trailed off, looking down at your hands.

Truth was, he made you nervous. Why wouldn’t he? He was… a lot of things, and in the few days you have known him you couldn’t help but feel more reserved than usual.

Logan leaned back against the ramp, watching you with a calm expression, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Care to be more specific?” He seemed content to let you fumble, patient in a way that only made your pulse quicken more.

You shrugged, pretending to focus on the tool in your hands. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the… whole mysterious, intense thing you’ve got going. That, and the fact that I accidentally freeze time whenever you look at me like that.”

He raised an eyebrow, letting out a low chuckle. “Like what?”

“Like…” You trailed off, finally looking up at him. “Like you’re trying to figure something out, but I’m not sure I want to know what.”

“Maybe I am,” Logan said, taking a drag of his cigar. His eyes softened a bit, and you felt a warmth settle over you. He didn’t push, didn’t pry—just waited. After all, patience was one of the many things he’d perfected over the years.

You shifted on your feet, glancing down to where your fingers had turned the wrench over and over, antsy. “Maybe I just don’t know what to make of you,” you murmured, feeling the weight of his gaze again.

“Guess that makes two of us,” he replied, his voice low. There was something unspoken in his words, something you couldn’t quite name.

The silence stretched out, and then, because there was something about the way he looked at you that felt like an invitation, you spoke. “Why’d you come out here, anyway? I thought you were all about avoiding everyone else.”

Logan flicked some ash off the end of his cigar. “Maybe I was gettin’ tired of avoidin’ things.” He paused, looking out toward the treeline, then back at you. “Or maybe I just wanted to see if you’d freeze time again.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Not exactly something I can control.”

“Good to know,” Logan replied, smirking. He took another puff, the smoke curling up in wisps around him. “So, are you fixin’ that thing, or just givin’ it the ol’ college try?”

You looked back at the jet, the half-repaired panel flickering with static. “Oh, definitely just winging it.”

Logan chuckled, the sound rich and deep, and for a moment, the tension seemed to ease. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a ‘wing it’ type.”

You shrugged, biting back a smirk. “I’m full of surprises.”

The easy conversation brought a hint of a grin to his face, something warm and fleeting, and he tilted his head toward the jet. “C’mon, let’s see what else you can do, winging it.” He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging you.

You looked at him, then back at the jet, a bit of excitement tingling under your skin. “Alright, Logan. Let’s see what we can fix.”

---

“Stay with the kids.” Jean said. You opened your mouth to argue, you weren’t a child, yet it seemed like every mission you were treated like one. Never allowed on the field, never even brought in on a debriefing.

The rest of the group, other than Mystique who was already in the base, were outside the jet, making their way into Alkali Base. You were supposed to stay behind with Rogue, Bobby, and John.

“But, Jean—” you started, voice catching on the frustrated protest that lingered in your chest.

Jean turned, a hand on her hip and an exasperated look that was all too familiar. “We’ve talked about this, Y/N. You’re here to look after them.”

“Right,” you muttered, crossing your arms, your gaze falling on the others, who were half paying attention, half pretending not to notice. Rogue’s worried glance lingered on you; Bobby looked between you and the hallway where the rest of the team had disappeared.

Jean’s expression softened just slightly. “This isn’t a punishment, okay? The kids need someone they trust to keep them safe.”

You glanced at Logan, who gave you a slight nod, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “Fine,” you mumbled, “I’ll stay with them.”

Jean pressed a reassuring hand to your shoulder. “We’ll be back soon.” She turned to catch up with the others, her footsteps echoing as they faded into the depths of the base.

Logan lingered for a moment, gaze unwavering. He looked at you for a beat too long, and something tightened in his expression. He gave a faint nod before heading off.

As the rest of the team disappeared down the corridor, John grinned, clearly amused by your frustration. "Looks like you got a babysitting gig, huh?"

You shot him a withering look, but Rogue was quick to jump in. "It's not like that, John."

“Could be worse,” Bobby added, trying to lighten the mood, “at least we’re safe here.”

You leaned against the cold metal wall, fingers tapping the console out of habit. “Yeah,” you replied, though your voice held none of the certainty you tried to convey.

From the depths of the corridor, Logan’s scent still lingered faintly in the air. You felt the tug of something unexplainable—a pull toward him that you’d noticed ever since he first set foot in the mansion. It was like trying to remember something you knew you’d forgotten.

Your hand, almost of its own accord, clenched into a fist, feeling the temptation to slow time, to buy a few seconds to gather your thoughts and process what lingered between you and Logan. But with Rogue, Bobby, and John right there, you resisted, focusing on keeping things steady.

And, yet, as you listened to the faint sounds echoing down the hall, a deep sense of restlessness settled in your chest.

---

“She’s controlling the jet!” Storm said, as the jet started to lightly shake.

“You, get her, now!” Logan told Kurt.

Kurt briefly phased, “she’s not letting me.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Charles spoke. “This is the only way.”

Scott leaned down next to Charles seat, “Jean? Listen to me. Don’t do this.”

“Good-bye.”

The jet started to hover above the water as a bright light shone briefly from the water before disappearing as quickly as it came.

“She’s gone,” Ororo said quietly.

The vision broke your focus as you flew the jet, the emergency landing protocol activated as it landed harshly, Rogue and Bobby standing in the cockpit by your seat.

A whoosh made you turn to the side to see Kurt putting Charles down in a seat. Kids started to climb up the stairs into the ramp as Ororo came by your side, “I got this, Y/N,” she said gently.

You let out a few more heavy breaths before standing up from the pilot’s seat, letting Ororo take your place.

As Scott fiddled with some of the controls, Charles spoke up, “Scott, we’ve got to get to Washington. I fear this has gone beyond Alkali Lake.”

Logan finally climbed up the stairs, a young boy in his arms, “Bobby.”

“Hey, I got him,” Bobby replied, carefully taking the boy from Logan’s arms.

Logan watched for a moment as Bobby wrapped an arm around the kid, murmuring something reassuring to him. When the boy seemed to relax, Logan shifted his gaze to you, lingering just a beat too long, that same unreadable look in his eyes.

The jet was buzzing with energy as everyone settled in, but his eyes never left yours. You felt it, that weight, the unspoken thing hanging between you both ever since you met. The others didn’t seem to notice—Bobby was focused on the kid, Rogue was buckling in, and Ororo and Scott were adjusting settings on the console. But Logan, he was watching you, something intense simmering beneath his stoic expression.

You tried to brush it off, focusing on the quiet hum of the jet as it prepared for takeoff. But that pull was there, like something forgotten tugging at your memory, or maybe… not forgotten, exactly. Maybe something you’d never known.

Finally, unable to help yourself, you looked back at him. “What?” you asked softly, half a smile on your lips to cover the nervous energy prickling at the base of your spine.

Logan didn’t smile back. “Nothing,” he replied, voice rough. But his gaze softened, just barely, and there was a glimmer of something warm. “Just making sure you’re alright.”

His words were casual, but you caught the faintest edge of something… familiar. Like a memory you couldn’t quite touch. You felt your fingers twitch, the familiar itch to pull time in around you, but you held back.

“I’m fine,” you said, brushing your hair behind your ear as you tried to shake off the strange feeling. “Thanks for asking.”

Logan nodded, but his gaze didn’t waver. He watched you for a beat longer, almost as if he were searching for something. Whatever it was, he didn’t find it—or maybe he did but decided not to say. Instead, he moved forward to Ororo, where her and Scott were trying to power the engines.

“What’s wrong?” Logan questioned.

“Vertical thrusters are offline.” Scott answered.

“So fix ’em.”

“I’m trying.”

“Hey, has anyone seen John?” Rogue called out.

“Pyro?” Logan asked. “Where the hell is he?”

“He’s with Magneto.” Jean replied.

“…but I don’t know how long they’re going to last.”

“I’m trying to override, but it’s not responding.” Scott grunted, “come on!”

“Oh, no, we’ve lost the power.” Ororo said.

“It’s coming. Come on!”

“There’s power in the fuel cells. They’re just not connected.”

“Okay, I’ll try to reroute it this way.” Ororo continued, but your gaze was focused on Jean, who was looking at the ramp of the jet. “Scott, the engine control system is shot.”

“Which part?”

“All of it!”

“Can’t you override?”

“Yes. It’s going to take some time.”

“Jean,” you whispered under your breath, too scared to act, fearing what would happen if you intervened. Instead, you watched as she walked down the ramp of the jet, glancing at the group one last time.

Charles tilted his head slightly to the side, “Jean?”

“Wait, where’s Jean?” Logan asked.

“She’s outside.” Charles said.

Scott bolted up from his seat to the ramp, but it closed as he got there, separating Jean from the rest of them. The consoles lit up as the engines came back online.

“No! We’re not leaving! Lower the ramp! Storm, lower it!” Scott yelled.

“I can’t!” She replied.

The water finally washed over to them, but because of Jean and her telekinesis it went around her.

“She’s controlling the jet!” Storm said, as the jet started to lightly shake.

“You, get her, now!” Logan told Kurt.

Kurt briefly phased, “she’s not letting me.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Charles spoke. “This is the only way.”

Scott leaned down next to Charles seat, “Jean? Listen to me. Don’t do this.”

“Good-bye.”

The jet started to hover above the water as a bright light shone briefly-

“-power in the fuel cells. They’re just not connected.”

“Okay, I’ll try to reroute it this way.” Ororo continued, but your gaze was focused on Jean, who was looking at the ramp of the jet. “Scott, the engine control system is shot.”

“Which part?”

“All of it!”

“Can’t you override?”

“Yes. It’s going to take some time.”

As Jean walked toward the ramp, you reached out and grabbed her forearm, halting her determined steps. Her head turned, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, her eyes softened. There was a weariness, a resignation in her look that you couldn’t ignore.

“Jean,” you whispered, tightening your grip. “There has to be another way.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away, staring into the distance. The ramp was only steps away, but she hadn’t pulled her arm free. “It’s the only way to save everyone,” she said, her voice barely audible, as if speaking louder would shatter whatever resolve she had left.

“I’m not gonna let you die,” you spoke quietly.

Jean tilted her head, looking at the cockpit one more time before back at you, “you rewound. Didn’t you?” She hadn’t tried to pull away, and you could feel the rapid beat of her pulse through your grip on her arm. She knew. Somehow, she’d pieced it together—how you’d rewound, maybe even more than once.

“Yes,” you replied softly, your voice barely audible over the hum of the jet, “but this time—”

“This time won’t be any different,” Jean cut in, a trace of regret in her tone. “Some things… you can’t just rewind.”

You tightened your grip, not willing to let go. “I don’t believe that. I don’t believe it has to end like this.”

Her gaze softened, but there was a sadness in her eyes that you couldn’t bear. “You have to let me go, Y/N. You can’t keep holding on to something that’s already gone.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “We’re a team, Jean. You can power on the jet, and I can pause the water.”

She looked away, clearly weighing every word you said against her own grim resolve, then back at you with a look of resigned understanding. "You don’t understand, Y/N. This—" she gestured to the waters crashing around them, then down to her own chest, her hand resting over her heart—"what’s happening to me... it’s too much. It’s a flood I can’t hold back.”

You could feel her pulse, still wild beneath your hand, and the memory of her last words echoed in your mind. "You have to let me go, Y/N. You can’t keep holding on to something that’s already gone.”

But she wasn’t gone, not yet, and the desperation that rose inside you felt like a fight against fate itself. “Jean, I’ve seen things go wrong before.” The words slipped out, the ghost of a memory that you couldn’t quite catch. “But I can feel it this time… we don’t have to lose you. Just trust me.”

For a moment, Jean’s gaze softened, and her grip on her resolve wavered. “Y/N…” she started, and you caught a glimmer of something in her eyes—gratitude, or maybe even hope. Her hand rested lightly over yours, though you could feel her power humming beneath her skin. “Alright,” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible. “But if something goes wrong… if it’s too much…”

You cut her off, squeezing her hand tighter. “Then we find another way. But you don’t have to do this alone.”

With a quick nod from Jean, you focused your energy, feeling time ripple and bend beneath your skin. Jean closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she took in the extra moments you’d gifted her, enough to gather her power without tearing herself apart in the process.

Outside the jet, the water slowed, hovering just a few inches away from the plane, frozen in time. Everyone held their breath, the hum of the jet's engines amplified in the stillness. Scott turned back to the controls, guiding the jet forward through the suspended water. “It’s working,” he murmured, almost to himself. "We’re moving.”

In the cockpit, you felt your pulse race as you held the time bubble steady, feeling the strain build in your bones. This level of control was more intense than anything you’d managed before, but you pushed yourself to hold on, the determination to keep Jean and everyone safe steeling your resolve.

The jet jolted slightly as it broke through the edge of the water and rose higher, out of immediate danger. But the strain was starting to build, the sheer amount of energy it took to hold everything at bay beginning to wear on you. Your hand slipped, and you nearly stumbled, but before you could lose your focus entirely, a strong hand caught your arm.

Logan was at your side, his face mere inches from yours, concern laced in his voice. “You good?” he asked, his grip grounding you.

“Yeah… just give me a sec.” You took a breath, focusing on the feel of his hand, the warmth in his touch that felt familiar in a way you couldn’t explain. With that small, grounding connection, you found the strength to hold the time bubble for a few seconds more.

When the jet was finally clear, you released the grip on time, and the rush of water resumed its course beneath them. You staggered slightly, feeling a rush of exhaustion course through you, but Logan’s arm was still steady around you, even as you fell to the ground, your eyes fluttering shut.

Logan’s grip tightened as you slumped back, your breath shuddering as exhaustion swept over you. His hand was warm, rough fingers gently brushing against your cheek, bringing you back just enough to the moment. Your back was draped over his knees, your pulse still racing as you struggled to catch your breath. The world was a muted blur, but his voice broke through, steady and low, anchoring you.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow circle on your cheek. “You’re alright. I got you.”

It was only his words, and the softness in them, that made you blink back the haze of exhaustion. As your vision cleared, you saw his face just inches from yours, an intensity in his gaze that seemed to search for something… something deeper than he was saying.

“Logan,” you whispered, not sure why his name slipped out so easily or why it felt so familiar, as if you’d said it before, in another life or another time. But the look he gave you held a weight you couldn’t name, a history you couldn’t remember.

“You with me?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper, but beneath it, there was something else, something almost pleading. He waited as you blinked up at him, your pulse slowly settling, tethered by his touch. “Y/N?”

“Yeah…” You tried to push yourself up, but the strain of holding time around the jet had left your muscles aching, feeling drained in a way you’d never experienced before. Logan’s grip on your shoulder tightened, steadying you, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into him, feeling his warmth.

His face softened, a flicker of relief crossing his expression, though he didn’t let go. “You pulled us out of that mess,” he said, his voice low, and for a second, something raw flickered in his eyes. “What were you thinking? Freezing the water like that—it could’ve knocked you out cold.”

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t just watch Jean go.” You inhaled deeply, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced toward the cockpit, where Jean’s quiet breathing filled the jet with a fragile peace. “I couldn’t let her do it alone.”

Logan gave a slow nod, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. You felt the intensity of his gaze, as if he was seeing something beyond what you could understand. There was a warmth to it, one that made your heart stutter, something deep and unexplainably familiar. He paused, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. “You’ve always been this way… haven’t you?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, thrown by the hint of something personal, something he couldn’t quite put into words. He dropped his hand from your face, settling it on your shoulder, but you could still feel the warmth lingering where he’d touched you.

“Never mind.” He looked away, his expression unreadable. But his hand remained steady on your shoulder, grounding you as the jet finally stabilized, the engines humming to life. You could hear the others bustling around, but for this moment, it was just the two of you, a silent understanding hovering between you.

“Logan…?” you started, not sure what you wanted to say or why his presence felt so deeply familiar. He turned back, a question in his eyes, as if he were waiting for something. But the words wouldn’t come. How could you ask him about a feeling you didn’t understand? About a memory that didn’t exist?

Instead, you exhaled, letting the silence fill the space between you. “Thank you.”

He watched you, his gaze lingering on your face, as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say. But he only nodded, a soft look crossing his face, one that felt almost like longing.

“Anytime,” he murmured, his hand finally slipping away, leaving a chill in its place.

“Y/N, you good back there?” Ororo’s voice broke the spell, and you managed a nod, giving her a thumbs-up.

“Yeah. Just… catching my breath.” You gave her a small smile, forcing your muscles to relax, even as your heart was still pounding. Logan stood, his gaze lingering on you for a beat before he moved to check on the others. But before he left, he looked back at you, his eyes holding a silent promise, a feeling that maybe—just maybe—he was still there, still watching over you.

---

A storm crackled outside thanks to Ororo and everyone around the group was frozen in time courtesy of you.

“Good morning, Mr. President.” Charles said. The President looked over to the side where Kurt was crouched on a small table. He began to stand up slowly, “please, don’t be alarmed. We’re not going to harm anyone.”

“Who are you people?”

“We’re mutants. My name is Charles Xavier. Please, sit down.”

“I’d rather stand.”

“Rogue.” Charles briefly glanced over at her, as she placed a large file onto the President’s desk. “These files were taken from the private offices of William Stryker.”

The President started to flip through the file, “how did you get this?”

“Well, let’s just say I know a little girl who can walk through walls.” Charles said, as the President looked over at Kurt who let out a quiet snicker. He finally sat back down.

“I’ve never seen this information.”

“I know.”

“Then you also know I don’t respond well to threats.”

“Mr. President, this is not a threat, this is an opportunity. There are forces in this world, both mutant and human alike, who believe that a war is coming. You’ll see from those files that some have already tried to start one. And there have been casualties. Losses on both sides. Mr. President, what you are about to tell the world is true. This is a moment. A moment to repeat the mistakes of the past, or to work together for a better future. We’re here to stay, Mr. President. The next move is yours.”

“We’ll be watching,” Logan said.

logan is around 171 years old (but at this point in the story, he doesn't really know how old he is so it's kinda irrelevant now) and reader is around 26 years old

[hrrtshape]

LET'S TALK ABOUT SHIFTING DOUBTS 𖥔

this post may or may not be for you—the dreamers, the believers, the escapists who know shifting is real but still feel a pang of doubt every now and then. let’s just get it out there: it’s OKAY to feel doubtful. it’s human. it doesn’t mean you’re failing, and it doesn’t mean you’ll never shift. you do, every second. sometimes, no matter how deeply we trust the process, those little seeds of “what if?” creep in—and that’s valid.

we're often told to reaffirm, reaffirm, reaffirm, and while affirmations are a beautiful, powerful tool, let’s not pretend they don’t take energy. if you're someone who uses shifting as an escape, constantly pushing yourself with affirmations can start to feel like running on empty. waking up in your cr is often brushed under the rug with the constant persistence of saying, “i did shift,” (you did) and i think it’s time to reflect on how that can lead to burnout—especially if you’re already emotionally betting a lot on shifting. it’s not about if you’ll shift—it’s about how frustrating it can feel when reality doesn’t immediately reflect your desires.

and here’s the thing: you’re allowed to rest. you’re allowed to sit in your doubt without judgment. you’re allowed to say, “today, i feel a little stuck. i feel sad. i'm disappointed.” recognising those feelings doesn’t weaken your ability to shift. in fact, it makes you stronger, because you’re honouring your emotions instead of fighting them.

shifting is effortless. it happens every second, whether you're hyper-aware of it or not. you don’t have to be in a constant state of “i’m shifting tonight” to shift. sometimes, the best thing you can do is just exist—no pressure, no expectations, just letting yourself feel whatever comes naturally.

give yourself grace.

take a breath.

remember: your dr is already yours. whether or not you wake up there tomorrow, it’s still real. you're still there.

you’re not failing. you’re not behind. shifting isn’t a race; it’s an act of love—love for yourself, love for the life you’re building, and love for the many versions of you that already exist.

take this as your reminder that you’re magic, even on the days you don’t feel it. and when you do wake up in your dr (because you will, no matter what), it’ll be exactly as perfect as you’ve always imagined.

trust me, you've got this. 💗

[slightly-knot-insane]

A Little Bit Rusty [part 2]

[ m!monster x fem!reader ]

a/n: continuation of this short drabble, now with more plot, hehe. also, i imagined this monster as some kind of dinosaur hybrid, but i'll still keep it vague enough for readers to imagine whatever they like ^^ content: nsfw, some steamy moments with clothes on, fingering

You left his apartment before he woke up, figuring it will be less awkward than to have breakfast together and spend the morning in silence avoiding each other's gaze. The night was so good, though, you think as you enter the museum, your workplace.

It's hard to focus on paperwork you left unfinished yesterday in order to have fun with your co-worker, aka supervisor, aka mentor. It's very hard not to think about his long monstrous tongue or his teeth biting your inner thighs.

"Good morning..." You jolt up immediately recognizing your mentor's voice. You didn't notice when he entered the office. He is standing a few steps away from you, like you have a disease. "Are you... okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You are truly surprised with his question. Last night was fantastic.

He suddenly stands with his back straighter than before - if that's even possible. "R-right. Good to know." And then basically runs away.

Maybe he didn't have such a good time? He sure didn't act unsatisfied. You chuckle looking at him trip over his own legs.

It's a busy day, Saturday, and the museum is full of people. You both have tours to lead, but since you only started working, you are mostly free or assisting him.

You actually love listening to him, since he's very eloquent when talking about archaeological findings, especially about bones. He is especially charming with kids and can make them laugh easily. But as soon as he lays his eyes on you, he blushes or stutters. It's so entertaining seeing him flustered you can't help but on purposely make his job even harder.

You shorten your skirt, pull your blouse down to expose your bosom, and tighten the belt around your waist to accentuate your curves even more. When he sees you the next time, his jaw drops like a malfunctioning lid. Luckily, his group is enjoying some free time exploring the science room so he has time to quickly approach you.

"You, um..." he tries to form words, ask you something very polite probably, but you bite your lip and his pupils dangerously dilate.

He pushes you behind 'staff only' little door in the next room and shoves your body against the wall. It is so cramped in there and you can't move - not that you want to. This 'rusty old man' how he called himself, is all but out of practice, and you get wet just thinking about what he could do to you right now.

"I'm not blind," he growls and pushes his clawed hand into your hair pulling your head backwards. He licks your neck along your jugular. "You're toying with me."

"You think?" your sarcastic remark is cut short by his hand sliding between your thick thighs and lightly touching your mons pubis.

"Why did you leave this morning?" he asks you but doesn't let you answer because he pushes his tongue inside your mouth. All you can do is moan and suck. "Why?" he repeats letting you catch your breath.

"I-I'm not sure," you reply, mind hazy, "I wanted us to think about everything, I guess. Analyze things."

"I see," he hums as his finger slithers inside your panties and rubs your lewdness while his other hand grips your hips. "I recon we're both done thinking."

He pulls his finger out and licks it with the tip of his tongue. Your pussy throbs.

"We should get back to work," he says, blushing again, returning to his old flustered self... and kisses his wet finger before exiting the storage room with a naughty wink.

[ third part coming soon! ]

[mcrveilles]

just this once // ln4

HI WE'RE BACK - i'm having so much fun writing this. thank you for liking it and your encouragement.

word count: 2.1k warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content, heartache, feelings of betrayal includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: the consequences hit hard

PART FIVE previous part - next part

The tension thickens, pressing down on your chest as Max’s words settle in the air between you. You glance at Lando, hoping he has some magic explanation, some way to fix this, but his jaw is set, his eyes locked on Max. His usual easy charm is nowhere to be found, and for the first time tonight, he looks genuinely shaken. Max crosses his arms, his sharp gaze moving between the two of you. "Well?" he presses, his voice growing louder. "Someone better start talking."

You take a shaky breath, your hands twisting together at your sides. “Max, it’s not like that,” you manage, though your voice wavers under the weight of his stare. “We weren’t sneaking around. I mean, not intentionally. It’s just…” You trail off, your words getting stuck in your throat. “Not intentionally?” Max repeats, his tone dripping with disbelief. “So what? It just accidentally happened?”

Lando steps in then, his voice calm but firm. “We didn’t plan this, Max. I swear. But… yeah, there’s something between us.” He glances at you, his expression softening before he looks back at Max. “It wasn’t something we wanted to hide from you. We just—”

“Wanted to keep it quiet until it suited you?” Max interrupts, his voice rising. “Do you even understand what this looks like? You, my best friend, going behind my back with my sister? And you—” He turns to you, his eyes filled with something between anger and betrayal. “You didn’t think to tell me? Not once?” You flinch at the accusation, guilt curling in your stomach. “I didn’t know how,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, congratulations,” Max snaps, throwing his hands in the air. “Mission failed.”

The words hit like a slap, and you blink back the sting of tears. Max has never spoken to you like this, never looked at you like this—like he doesn’t even recognize you. The hurt in his eyes is worse than the anger, and it makes your chest ache in a way you weren’t prepared for. “Max,” Lando says again, his tone softer now. “You’re my best mate. I never wanted to hurt you either. But…” He hesitates, like he’s searching for the right words. “I care about her. A lot. And if you can’t see that—”

“That’s the problem,” Max cuts in, his voice raw. “I do see it. I saw it tonight, clear as day. And maybe even before that, but I ignored it because I trusted you, Lando. I trusted both of you.” The weight of his words hangs in the air, and for a moment, no one speaks. You can feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you hold them back, refusing to break under the pressure of Max’s gaze. “I need some time,” Max finally says, his voice quieter now, but no less resolute. “To think. To figure out how I feel about all of this.” He takes a step back toward the door, pausing to look at Lando. “Don’t follow me. Either of you.” And with that, he turns and walks back inside, leaving you and Lando alone on the balcony once more. The sound of the party swells as the door shuts behind him, a stark contrast to the silence that settles between you.

Lando exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Well,” he mutters, “that went about as badly as it could’ve.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

He steps closer then, his hand brushing yours in a gesture that feels both apologetic and grounding. “We’ll fix this,” he says quietly, his voice filled with a determination that makes your chest tighten. “I don’t know how yet, but we’ll fix it.” You nod, though you’re not sure that you believe him. The night feels heavier now, the spark of earlier completely snuffed out. But when Lando’s fingers lace with yours, you let yourself hold onto him—just for a moment—because even in the mess you’ve made, he’s the only thing that feels steady.

You pull your hand from his stepping back until the cool metal of the balcony railing presses against your spine. Lando’s brows knit together, confusion flashing across his face. “You okay?” he asks softly, his voice careful, like he’s afraid you might shatter. But you already feel like you’re breaking. Your breath comes too fast, and your chest tightens as all the emotions swirling inside you—guilt, fear, frustration—bubble to the surface. “I can’t do this,” you whisper, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “What do you mean?” His voice is steadier now, but you can see the cracks in his confident mask. He takes a step forward, and you immediately hold up a hand to stop him.

“I mean this.” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “Us. Whatever this is. I can’t, Lando. I thought I could, but I can’t.” He stares at you, his jaw tightening. “Baby, don’t do this,” he says, his tone low but urgent, almost pleading. “I’m serious, Lando,” you say, hating the way your voice wavers. “Max hates me now. He hates you. And he has every right to. We were selfish, and we’ve ruined everything.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Lando says firmly, his hands falling to his sides. “He’s just upset. He needs time to process this, that’s all.”

“Maybe,” you say, your throat tightening, “but I can’t keep doing this with you, sneaking around, pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. It’s too much, Lando. I can’t handle it.” The hurt in his eyes is like a punch to the stomach, and you have to look away, focusing instead on the city lights below. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of traffic and the muffled music from inside the apartment. “You’re scared,” he says finally, his voice quieter now.

You laugh bitterly, though there’s no humor in it. “Of course I’m scared. I’m terrified, Lando. I’m terrified of hurting Max even more, of ruining what we had—what you and Max have. And I’m terrified of…” You trail off, biting your lip hard enough to hurt.

“Of what?” he presses gently, stepping closer despite your earlier protest. His voice is softer now, like he’s trying to coax the truth out of you.

“Of you,” you whisper, the words barely audible. “Of how much I feel when I’m with you. Of how I can’t seem to think straight when you’re around. It’s too much, Lando. You’re too much.” He doesn’t respond immediately, and the silence stretches out between you, heavy and suffocating. When he finally speaks, his voice is steady, but there’s an edge of vulnerability that makes your chest ache.

“I’m not going to apologize for how I feel about you,” he says. “And I’m not going to let you push me away just because you’re scared.”

“Lando—”

“No, let me finish,” he says, his tone firmer now. “I get it. You’re overwhelmed. So am I. But this? What we have? It’s real. And I’m not going to let you throw it away because you’re too afraid to fight for it.” His words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, all you can do is stand there, your heart pounding in your chest. You want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, but deep down, you know he’s not. Still, the fear is stronger. It wraps around you like a vice, squeezing the air from your lungs. “I need space,” you say finally, your voice trembling. “I need to figure things out on my own.”

His face falls, and the sight nearly breaks you. But he nods, his jaw tight. “If that’s what you want,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It is,” you say, though the words feel like a lie.

He steps back, his hands sliding into his pockets. For a moment, he just looks at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to memorize every detail. Then he nods again, turns, and walks back inside without another word. You stay on the balcony, the cool night air doing nothing to ease the heat burning in your chest. And as the door clicks shut behind him, you realize just how much it hurts to push him away.

The second Lando steps away, a hollowness seeps into your chest, spreading fast and heavy like a lead weight. The cool night air brushes against your skin, but instead of soothing you, it amplifies the ache inside, making every breath sharp and uneven. You tell yourself this is for the best, that pushing him away was the right thing to do—for Max, for Lando, for yourself—but the words ring hollow.

Guilt churns in your stomach, twisting like a knife. Max’s face, the flash of hurt and betrayal in his eyes, replays in your mind like a haunting reel, over and over again. And then there’s Lando. The look he gave you before he turned away—raw, unguarded—feels like a scar you’ll carry for a long time. You hate that you put it there.

Your hands tremble as you grip the railing, the cold metal biting into your palms. Everything feels too much, too fast. You were supposed to keep things simple. One night. One moment. A slip you could explain away and move on from. But it’s become so much more, hasn’t it? And now, it’s spiraled into a mess you can’t seem to untangle.

The lump in your throat grows heavier, and your vision blurs as tears pool in your eyes. You don’t know if you’re angry, sad, or just exhausted—maybe all three. Angry at yourself for letting this happen, sad for the way things are unraveling, and exhausted from pretending you don’t care as much as you do.

And you do care. That’s the worst part. You care so much it’s terrifying. Every glance, every touch, every stolen moment with Lando has carved its way into you, leaving marks you don’t know how to erase. And the thought of losing him—really losing him—hurts more than you want to admit.

But the fear is louder. Fear of what this could mean for Max, for your family, for your heart. Fear of stepping into something that feels so big, so overwhelming, it might swallow you whole.

So you stay rooted there, staring out at the city lights, wishing they could somehow illuminate the answers you so desperately need. But all they do is flicker and blur, leaving you just as lost as before.

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

The buzz of Silverstone is electric, a sea of orange and British flags waving wildly as engines roar to life. The atmosphere is alive, but you feel out of sync, moving through the paddock like a ghost. Max is there, but his smiles are subdued when it comes to you. He’s cheering forLando, though, still proud and supporting his best friend for his home race. Still, his excitement feels muted, his celebratory backslaps and grins somehow...limited and different. It’s like he’s drawing a line, one you’re not sure how to cross.

Lando keeps his distance too. You catch glimpses of him—a flash of his curls beneath his cap, the familiar set of his jaw as he talks to his engineers—but he never looks your way. You tell yourself it’s for the best, but it doesn’t stop the ache every time he passes.

When the race begins, you stand in the far back of his garage, heart pounding as Lando’s car tears through the track. Every overtake, every perfect turn has you holding your breath. You try not to think about the way things used to be—the way you’d celebrate together, no hesitation, no lines drawn in the sand. But you can’t help it. Because even with everything between you now, you’re still there, willing him to succeed.

When he crosses the finish line in P3, with Lewis winning the race, the roar of the crowd is deafening. You clap and cheer with the rest of them, smiling despite yourself as Lando lifts his trophy. Max is by your side in the crowd, grinning from ear to ear, but even his elation feels careful, like there’s something unsaid hanging between all of you.

Lando doesn’t look for you when he steps down from the podium. He’s swarmed by cameras and teammates, orange confetti raining down, but he doesn’t scan the crowd like he used to. And you? You stay on the sidelines, your pride for him tangled up in all the things you’re too scared to face.

tag list: @sltwins @sarx164 @hadesnumber1daughter @fullmugwolffish @willowsnook @sageskiesf1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @leclercdream @chezmardybum @landossainz @cloud-55 @sillyfreakfanparty @harrysdimple05 @mwuaferrari @milkysoop @weekendlusting @chezmardybum @isotopemylove @luvvcharxo

[v6quewrlds]

Can we get a fic where reader and Joe have like five boys and there all mini joes. Bonus reader is pregnant and its a girl💕💕💕💕💕💕

‎you stirred out of your sleep, the rumble of joe's snoring shaking you awake. with a gentle nudge, you coaxed joe awake. he groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he mumbled incoherently, not yet willing to face the morning chaos.

your fingers softly brushed his floppy hair out of his eyes, and joe managed a sleepy hum, his blue eyes hidden behind his shut eyes.

"joey," you spoke softly, "time to get up, baby."

he groaned again, rolling over to shove his face into the pillow, the sheets tangling around his broad shoulders.

"come on, you know the drill." you laughed, poking him in the side.

with a dramatic sigh, joe threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet searching for the cold floor. "alright, alright," he mumbled, stumbling towards the bathroom.

the peace lasted for all of five minutes before the sound of little feet pattered down the hallway, jaden and trey eager to start their day. you threw back the covers and waddled out of bed, your fourth pregnancy making your movements a tad more difficult.

"mommy, is it time for breakfast?" jaden, the oldest at nine, asked, his voice still thick with sleep. trey, the middle child at six, copied his brother's question, his eyes wide and hopeful. you couldn't help but laugh at their synchronized inquiries.

the boys were both mirror images of joe with their curly blonde hair sticking up in all directions, matching their father's famous bedhead.

"yes, but let's get you two ready for school first," you said, your voice filled with a mix of amusement and firmness.

the morning routine was a well-oiled machine. joe wrestled with the older boys to get them dressed and ready for school while you tended to two-year-old miles, changing his diaper and helping him into his favorite thomas the tank engine shirt. the air was filled with the sound of zippers zipping, shoes being tied, and the occasional giggle from miles when he made a break for the stairs, joe chasing after him to scoop him up at the last minute.

joe was on school duty, dropping the boys off with a mix of pride and sadness, knowing that soon, the house would be quieter, with only the echoes of their laughter to keep him company. by the time he returned, you had managed to clean up the breakfast mess and were busy playing with miles, who had discovered the joys of dumping his toy basket and watching everything spill out.

"ready to confirm we're having another boy?" you teased, watching joe's expression as you drove to the obstetrician's office, miles strapped in his car seat, chattering away in toddler gibberish.

"you know i'd be happy with whatever, but i really do hope it's a girl," he said, a hint of hope in his voice. 

"we've had three boys in a row," you said, your voice carrying the weight of three previous pregnancies. "what makes you think this one's going to be a girl?"

joe shrugged. "just a feeling. fourth time's the charm?" he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. you could only laugh, shaking your head.

the obstetrician's office was bustling with expectant mothers and their partners, the air thick with excitement and nerves. when you were called into the exam room, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as joe followed behind, holding onto miles' hand after he refused to be held.

the doctor's smile grew wider, and she said, "well, you two, it looks like you might have to revise your football team to make room for a couple of cheerleaders."

your jaw dropped.

"cheerleaders?" you echoed. "plural?"

joe's eyes shot to the screen, his grip on your hand loosening as he leaned in to see what the doctor was referring to. "you're kidding," he murmured, his voice a mix of shock and excitement.

the doctor chuckled, nodding her head. "yes, cheerleaders plural. two baby girls." she pointed out two tiny figures on the screen, their hearts beating in unison.

you felt the world spin around you.

"twins?" you squeaked out. the doctor nodded, her gaze shifting between the two of you, gauging your reaction.

"joseph burrow, i swear to god," you began, your voice a mix of shock and disbelief as you stared at the ultrasound screen. joe's eyes left the screen, squeezing your hand as he waited for you to finish your sentence.

"you're never touching me ever again."

[fuck-customers]

context: i work in what basically amounts to a mall. we are usually scheduled alone, so if we have to leave the shop for any reason (i.e; to use the bathroom, take out the trash, etc.) we wait for the store to be empty and then put a little "back in 5 minutes!" sign on the front counter and just kinda hope no one steals anything. (I have submitted about this place before, but it's been a while since I've been offline. currently in the process of moving to my store's other location in town because this building is garbage for MANY other reasons besides this. (ex: I had to submit a complaint to OSHA a few weeks ago because we had a heat wave and it got up to 85 degrees in there - the chocolates and soft cheeses some other vendors sell were MELTING - and I'm not even in one of the restaurants, so I can only imagine how bad it was in the kitchens.))

the other night I was getting ready to close up shop and left (when there were no cutomers) for ~5 minutes to take out the trash and use the bathroom. when I got back, there was one person waiting to ask me a question, and a $20 bill tucked under the keyboard on the front counter. I was like ???? and the person who was waiting explained that someone else had wanted to buy one of our oven mitts, but hadn't wanted to wait, so they just took it and left cash. (I wish I could say this is the first time something like this has happened to me. The only difference is people usually do this with greeting cards.) this would have been fine, albeit annoying, except that we sell a lot of different oven mitts, all of which have different barcodes/inventory records, and they left NO indication of which oven mitt they took. 🙄

I helped the person who'd been waiting, and then asked the person at the shop across from me if they'd seen which oven mitt it was. They had a few guesses, and told me they'd tried to make the person who took the oven mitt wait, but they'd apparently been an asshole and had predictably refused. tried cross-referencing the oven mitts the other worker thought it might have been with our inventory records, trying to find one that was short, but it all checked out. I can't stay late to count all of our oven mitts to find the one (1) that's short, or I'll go over my hours for the day - not to mention I had dinner plans. so I kinda resigned myself to having to leave this for the morning shift, even though I hate doing that.

a couple of minutes after I start closing up, a different customer ducks behind my shop screen to talk to me. at first I was like ???? because we're CLOSED, but then they told me they'd seen the guy take the oven mitt and had taken a picture of them because they "fucking hate thieves" (fair, I work for a small business; don't steal from mom-and-pop stores). they showed me the picture and I was able to identify the oven mitt. thanked them profusely and rang it out properly after they left. I tried to find that person after I finished closing so I could at least give them the change that the oven mitt guy would've gotten if he'd just waited for me to come back, as a thank-you, but they must've already left. still, that guy was an absolute legend and I hope their coffee is warm and their pillows are cold 🙏

Posted by admin Rodney

[killiaia]

Brat II.

Huh Yunjin and Kazuha x Male reader. 2.7K words

TW : Anal, Ass play, Ass to mouth, Lesbian sex, brat kink, sub Kazuha and more.

It's hard for you to watch your girlfriend dance like that with someone else, but you're professional and keep your cool.

Yunjin finishes her dance and you're called to the middle of the stage with Kazuha.

"Ready Zuha?" You ask.

"I'm ready Oppa. "

The choreographer starts the music and you grab Kazuha by the waist. The young woman puts her hands against your chest and stops her face very close to yours.

Kazuha is beautiful, but you continue the dance. The young woman turns and sticks to you. You do the choreography glued to each other. Your hands on her pelvis, you guide her steps. 

You're the center of attention, everyone's looking at you, but only one person is glowering at you, and that's Yunjin.

She's angry, no, it's not anger, it's jealousy. If Yunjin could, she'd separate you from Kazuha. You can see it in her eyes, Yunjin only wants to catch you and keep you for herself. 

But that's not how it works. 

You finish your choreography with Kazuha and the Japanese girl places a kiss on your cheek in thanks.

You return to your seat and feel Yunjin's gaze on you. 

"You did it on purpose, didn't you? " Yunjin asks Kazuha.

"Yes. I wanted him to fuck me on stage in front of everyone. "Kazuha replies. "Relax, I'm kidding. It was just to thank him, we dance well together. "

Yunjin just turns her head and looks at you. You chat with other dancers and the choreographer announces the end of rehearsals. 

Everyone applauds and leaves the room. You grab your things and leave the room. You plan to go to the hotel and rest in your room. 

After a few minutes' walk, you arrive at the hotel. You greet the staff and go up to your room. You open your door and close it behind you.

You drop your things and don't dare say another word. The sight before you is magnificent. Yunjin and Kazuha are standing in front of you, naked.

"Shall I explain? " Yunjin says.

You nod.

"I want your cock, she wants your cock, you want our pussies. So you're going to fuck us. ",

"You Huh Yunjin ready to share me? "You ask incredulously 

"Oh I want to show her that I'm your little slut and then you won't be able to do without my Pussy."

"I think you're far too trusting. " You say. "Who says I won't prefer Zuha's pussy?"

"Because I'm your brat. I'm your cock-addicted slut. " Done Yunjin.

Excited by Yunjin's words you grab her and kiss her. Yunjin sticks to you and takes your hand and puts it on her pussy...

"Look how wet I am. "

"It's true." You reply, sliding a finger over the folds of her pussy. "Was it when Kazuha stuck her ass against me that made you like this? "

Yunjin wants to answer but you slide a finger inside her. Yunjin moans and you stifle the moan by kissing her.

You withdraw your finger and Yunjin protests but you present her with your finger and Yunjin sucks your finger. With your other hand, you beckon Kazuha to come closer. You grab her by the waist and kiss her. Kazuha responds immediately, you caress her pretty ass. With your fingers, you spread her buttocks and want to titillate her asshole, but something stops you. 

"You naughty girl. Zuha has a plug in her ass."

Zuha blushes.

"Yunjin too... " Zuha denounces.

"Hey! This was supposed to be a surprise! " protests Yunjin.

To verify Kazuha's words, you slide your hand down to Yunjin's buttocks.

"I want you to fuck my ass tonight “ Yunjin replies.

"We're going to the shower. Now. " You order and both women run to it. 

You undress and head for the bathroom. You hear the water running and enter the bathroom. 

Kazuha and Yunjin are kissing.

"Did I say you could kiss? "You do.

The two girls part immediately. It was as if they'd made a big mistake.

"Sorry," both singers say.

Caught up in a surge of affection, you soften and sit in a chair. 

"Continue. Daddy gives you permission to do whatever you want. "

"Really? " Yunjin says with a high-pitched tone and a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Yup. Daddy will just jerk off watching you. Go ahead."

The two women waste no time. Yunjin grabs Zuha and kisses her. The American brings her hand down and starts fingering the Japanese woman.

"Don't go too fast, baby. " You say to Yunjin. "Be gentle with Zuha."

" Sorry Daddy. " Yunjin replies.

"Ask her what she wants."

"What do you want? “ Yunjin asks, glued to Zuha's lips.

"I want you to finger me and then I want you to lick my pussy in front of Daddy. " Kazuha says shyly.

"That's good, Zuha. " You're encouraging Zuha. "Finger her gently. " You say to Yunjin.

Yunjin nods and begins to finger Zuha. 

"Express yourself, Zuha. Look at me. " You say.

"It's so good. " replies the Japanese woman.

Yunjin turns Zuha's head and kisses her. You continue the strokes on your cock. 

"Zuha. Finger Yunjin. " You command.

Zuha listens to you and moves her hand down to Yunjin's vagina. She caresses her clit and inserts her finger inside her. Both young women moan their mouths against each other. 

"Faster. "

Both young women increase the speed with their fingers. 

"You're good girls." 

You do the same and speed up the movements on your cock. Yunjin and Kazuha, still glued together, finger each other faster. 

"I'm going to cum. " Kazuha announces.

"Make her cum. " You order Yunjin. 

Yunjin smiles at you and enters a second finger into Kazuha. The Japanese woman, overwhelmed by pleasure, slams herself against the glass wall, moaning. 

"Oh my god. I'm going to cum. " 

You stand up, open the door and grab Kazuha's face to kiss her. Yunjin continues to finger her and you insert your tongue into her mouth. The Japanese girl is about to crack. With your hand, you reach down to her ass and grab one of her buttocks. 

This is stimulation too far for Zuha, who orgasms. Her whole body starts shaking and you have to catch her. You carry her and see that Kazuha has trouble keeping her eyes open.

"Do you want to rest, little heart? " 

Zuha nods and you ask Yunjin to grab you a bathrobe. She helps you put it on Kazuha and you go to lay the young woman on the bed. 

"Have a rest. "

"Thanks Daddy. "

You place a kiss on Kazuha's forehead and see Yunjin glaring at you. You follow her into the bathroom and close the door behind you.

"What's with that look? " You ask. 

"You have no right to be soft on her. "Yunjin replies. "Oh, you want to lie down, sweetheart. "Yunjin imitates you.

"Don't be a brat. "you warn Yunjin.

"I'm a brat. I'm your fucking brat. You only have the right to be gentle with me. I'm your girlfriend. " Yunjin does. 

"Baby... Are you jealous? "

"YES!" Yells Yunjin. 

"Baby it was your idea! " You retort.

"It's not that. It's being sweet to her like she's your girlfriend. She isn't. I am. "

"Okay okay. I'm sorry, okay? " You say. " Get in the shower, I'll make it up to you. "

Yunjin listens to you and goes into the shower. She runs the water again and you get in with her. Gently, as if afraid of breaking her, you kiss her. Yunjin wraps her arms around your neck and you put your hand on her cheek. 

I'm sorry," you murmur against her mouth. "You whisper against his mouth. 

"It's okay," Yunjin replies softly. 

"Do you want Daddy to eat your pussy?"

Shyly, Yunjin nods. You kiss her nose and start to work your way down. You kiss her neck, her breasts, her belly, her belly button. 

You find yourself in front of her pussy. And you place a kiss on her clitoris.

"You have the most beautiful pussy Yunjin. " 

You start by licking her folds. With your hands, you grab her buttocks and push her against your mouth, drawing a moan from Yunjin. 

Oh god", says Yunjin. 

You knead her ass and with your mouth move up to her clit. You start tonguing her and Yunjin holds herself against the wall. You continue your assault on her clit, alternating licks and nibbles. 

You push her against your mouth and Yunjin puts her hand in your hair. You look up at her and plant your gaze in hers. You flick your tongue down to her clitoris, and Yunjin begins to undulate her pelvis against your mouth. You help her by grabbing her buttocks and pressing her against your mouth. Yunjin fucks your mouth with her pussy.

"Daddy... I'm going to cum. "

"In my mouth. " 

You resume your oral assault and Yunjin tries to cum as fast as possible. The young woman passes her legs over your shoulders and you're inches away from carrying her against the wall. 

"My God, my God..." 

With one of your fingers, you start to touch Yunjin's anal plug. And that's just what Yunjin needed to cum.

You receive all her pussy juices into your mouth and Yunjin lets out a cry of pleasure. You feel Yunjin's legs trembling and quickly take them off your shoulders so she doesn't fall. Gently, you press her against you.

"Are you okay?" You ask Yunjin.

"Yes," Yunjin says feverishly.

You kiss her nose and Yunjin snuggles up against you. 

"I'm going to see if Zuha's asleep. " Yunjin says.

You nod and Yunjin comes out of the bathroom, so you take the opportunity to start washing. 

But it's short-lived as you hear Yunjin screaming.

You quickly get out of the shower and go into the bedroom. 

But you're stopped dead in your tracks by what's in front of you.

Yunjin and Kazuha are on all fours on the bed, their hands spreading their asses, giving you a view of their holes.

You don't know what to do, both women have removed their plugs.

It's like you're being pulled by a magnet. You advance toward Yunjin, your cock toward her asshole.

"We've already put in lube Daddy." Yunjin says. "All you have to do now is put your big cock inside us. "

"And who do I start with?"

"Zuha. " Done Yunjin. "Destroy her little slutty ass. "

You listen to your girlfriend and line up your dick with Kazuha's asshole.

"Ready Zuha?"

"Yes daddy. "

You start by putting the tip in. 

"Relax Zuha. " You say.

Zuha controls her breathing and you enter gently. You feel her hole relax and enter more.

You start to move back and forth and Zuha starts to moan. To your left, Yunjin starts fingering her ass in preparation. Playfully, you slap her bottom, making her moan.

You bring your attention back to Zuha and start to increase the pace. 

"Are you okay, Kazuha?" 

"Yes.." moans Kazuha. "Faster. " 

You listen to the Japanese woman and increase the pace. Your cock enters completely into the Japanese woman's ass, who screams with pleasure. 

"Fuck her ass! " Yunjin does 

You listen to your girlfriend and grab the Japanese girl's hips, violently thrusting your cock into her.

"Slap my ass! " Kazuha says 

You raise your hand and slap Kazuha's ass. One hand on her hip, the other slamming into her ass, Kazuha starts to increase her speed. She helps you with the licks and the pleasure is intense for both of you. 

"I've got an idea. " Yunjin says. 

Yunjin starts to get up and stand in front of Kazuha. The Japanese woman questions her with her eyes and Yunjin gives her a smile. She grabs Zuha's face and puts her head in her pussy. 

Although surprised, Zuha begins to eat her member's pussy.

"You brat. " you throw at Yunjin.

"I'm Daddy's brat. " Yunjin replies. 

"We'll make her come and then I'll take care of your ass," you say to Yunjin.

In response, Yunjin presses Kazuha's face against her pussy and you increase the speed. 

Kazuha would like to moan but her mouth is too busy licking Yunjin's pussy.

You slap Kazuha's ass and lean over her. You reach the Japanese woman's ear and whisper.

"You're going to come, Zuha. You're going to cum so hard on my cock like the pretty toy you are. "

Kazuha likes it so much. 

"Don't be shy, cum. Look at Yunjin. "

Kazuha looks up at her member and Yunjin winks at her. You accentuate the slaps on her ass and the strokes of your cock in her ass. 

"Zuha is going to cum. Zuha's gonna come. " You hum in the Japanese woman's ear. 

Zuha pulls out of Yunjin's vagina and lets out a cry of pleasure. You feel her ass tighten around your dick and it's a good thing you're experienced, because with the sensation you could very well have cum. 

You pull your cock out of Kazuha's ass and the japanese collapses. You slap her ass and say. 

"Good girl. "

You look at Yunjin. 

"Lie on your back on me." 

You lie on your back and Yunjin lies on her back on top of you. Without warning you grab her legs and lift them. 

"Zuha. Put my cock in Yunjin's ass. " 

Zuha listens and grabs your cock. You lift Yunjin a little and Zuha slides your cock into the singer's ass. 

Your cock went in so easily.

"Kazuha. Lick Yunjin's pussy. " 

Kazuha listens to you again and places her lips on her member's vagina while you fuck Yunjin's ass. In this position, Yunjin is vulnerable. Lying on her back on top of you, legs in the air, your cock in her ass and Kazuha licking her pussy, Yunjin's moans can be heard. 

You decide not to be nice to her and quickly fuck her ass. Yunjin likes it, she likes to be fucked hard.  This has the desired effect, as Yunjin turns her head to kiss you. 

However, you're also taken by surprise when you feel Kazuha's tongue against your balls.

"Oh fuck. " You let go.

"Your balls are so full. You're so going to fill Yunjin's ass. " Kazuha does.

God, the sensuality in Kazuha's voice mixed with Yunjin's moans could make you cum.

Kazuha alternates between your Etballs and Yunjin's pussy. It's as if Kazuha controls the pleasure of you and Yunjin. 

A lick on Yunjin's clit, a lick on your balls. You're stimulated all over. Your mouth is occupied by Yunjin's mouth, your cock is in Yunjin's ass and your balls are in Kazuha's mouth.

You're not Superman, you're not going to last long so you decide to make Yunjin cum.

"Concentrate on Yunjin's pussy, Zuha. We're going to make her come. " 

Zuha listens to you and stops licking your balls and goes back up to licking Yunjin's pussy. To help her cum, Zuha puts a finger in Yunjin's pussy. 

"I'm so full. " Yunjin shouts. 

"You like having both your holes filled? You like it little brat. " You do sensually to Yunjin.

"I fucking love it. " Yunjin does.

You speed up the movements and Yunjin howls with pleasure. Kazuha increases the pressure with her tongue and finger.

"I'm going to cum so hard..." screams Yunjin. "Oh my god. "

Yunjin's orgasm is so powerful that your cock is propelled out of her ass. 

And Kazuha does something that startles you. The young woman takes your cock and starts sucking it.

"Oh my god, Kazuha. " 

Yunjin takes the opportunity to kiss you. You can't moan any more, Yunjin stops you with his tongue. 

Kazuha jerks you off as she sucks you. Yunjin climbs off you and joins Kazuha. The two young women share your cock. Kazuha sucks you off and then Yunjin takes her place.

"Cum on our faces. " Yunjin says. 

You straighten up and Yunjin and Kazuha get down on their knees in front of you. You masturbate, and Yunjin and Kazuha take turns sucking your balls.

"Paint our faces Daddy. " says Kazuha. 

You speed up the movement and feel yourself coming, the two young women approach and you cum on their faces. 

Kazuha receives your cum on her lips and opens her mouth to drink as much as possible. Yunjin does the same and after you've let go, the two women share your cum.

"Thanks Daddy" say Yunjin and Kazuha together.

[pricegouge]

nik x f! reader

cw: (unspecified) holiday gift shopping. overstimulation (but not that kind). cockwarming. oral. russian pet names taken from a list off google so we're being so niceys about it. (also the one reader goes crazy about means good/smart girl)

this is entirely @3amfanfiction 's fault. she may as well have come into my home the other day and shot me point blank in the chest when she said (completely unprovoked, by the way):

nik turns to reader and asks 'do we need to go to the car so you can calm down?' and you know it's code for suckling at his cock, cockwarming him until your emotions are a bit more level

so blame her

He's too big to fit properly in the back of his SUV, let alone with you squeezed between his thighs, his ankles bracketing your hips, but you make it work: front seat slid as far forward as it could possibly go, both back rows folded down into a platform he sprawls across with his back pressed into the corner by the door. On your belly, his thick legs encase your head, crowd around you protectively and shield you from would-be onlookers even beyond the capabilities of the tinted windows. He makes it easy to forget where you are, keeps you clothed so the scratchiness of the seat backs doesn't abrade your elbow, hums absently in a language he knows you don't speak to drown out the droning of the incessantly cheery holiday music blaring loud enough to be heard faintly across the car park, where you're sequestered to one of the quieter corners of the over packed lot. You think they must be playing it from on high, tinny sleigh bells ringing from weatherbeaten speakers hidden in the lot lights.

It would make you grind your teeth, if your mouth weren't full - soft flesh and thick musk, your tongue working over silken skin because it's so good and sweet and tender and -

Distracting.

"Shh, malýshka. Settle, little one." 

Easier said than done when your brain feels like a boiled soft drink, sticky and hot, carbonated through your very bloodstream. You're flighty, a little shuddering dog vibrating at a speed that staves off the cold eking through the thin shell of the car, small drafts of chill you can feel against the skin of your hip when you shuffle too much and your jacket rides up. Your eyelids flutter, annoyed, Nik's obnoxious, striped undershirt coming into view, blue on blue in the dark. He shifts, wraps a heavy leg over you to keep you warm with the soft-worn pit of his denim-clad knee, and you melt a little further.

"That's it, radnaja, easy."

You're much better than you were, at least, the way you'd been spitting and hissing at him while he'd calmly marched you out to the car and had you stand at the taillight while he shuffled seats about playing on an embarrassing loop, casting an ugly pallor over the quiet moment he's created for you. You want to apologize, don't want to lose the comforting weight on your tongue long enough to do it. You slurp a little more aggressively instead, tongue chasing the saliva that slips past your soaked lips to leech into the fabric of his boxer briefs, and hope that illustrates your gratefulness.

"No playing, sweet thing. We're just taking a minute to unwind, remember?"

Even the mention of it - of the need to unwind - has you snuffling deeper, your nose pressed against the fly of his pants, trying to drown out the memory of what awaits you outside the relative safety of the car: the blaring music, the sputtering blue-bright LEDs, the raucous coughing of flu season and the bustle of too many bodies shifting past you, coarse wool coats and pet dander.

And responsibilities. Those, too. Entire aisles of nearly-identical, impersonal throw pillows for people you've only met twice. Or candles, cheap fragrance sticking in your sinuses until each one bled into the next, a putrid, garish bouquet you knew no one would like, let alone your mother. Let alone his mother, or -.

Your hand pushes against the tent of his pants, tucking the fabric behind his heavy balls so you can pull him deeper, suckle a bit harder. Your tongue slides against the loose skin of his sac and he sighs, hand heavy on the back of your head. 

"If you can't behave, I'll make you sit out here by yourself, and we both know it will take you so long to calm down that you'll miss dinner." Muttering, he tacks on, "Know how fussy you get when you're hungry."

It's sorely tempting, your disinterest in returning to the shops strong enough you briefly consider trying your luck, but there's no tempting Nik when he's decided you're not going to get a treat no matter how hard you try. Besides, he'll say you're in timeout, which lands just a hair out of bounds on the wrong side of demeaning for you. So you relax your jaw again, let your drool drip past his balls unimpeded. One decision down.

"Úmnitsa," he hums, and then chuckles quietly when your whole body loosens. Even through the fog of overstimulation, you know that one - have twisted yourself into many knots just to hear it, have never earned it until you let him unwind you from them. You're conditioned by now, the word instantly unclenching something in your belly and letting you sink deeper into the impromptu scene he's crafted for you, the quiet pocket of warmth and silence he's carved into the bitter chaos of holiday shopping. This time you know how to thank him, head resting heavy against the soft flesh over his pelvis as you focus on what he lets you feel, the weight of his hands and the warmth of his thighs, the damp weave of his pants and the scratchiness of the bellyhair that pokes through his shirt. Like this, he fills your mouth better than your own tongue, pliant and soft, pulse a subtle countermeasure to your own. He never started the car - probably thought the hum of the engine and the dry wash of the heat would annoy you. He'd have been right, but you think you'd rather hear that than the lingering notes of jingle bells. Still, it's hard to be mad when he does his best to cover that as well, his quiet, lullaby interrupted sporadically so he can coo about how well you're doing for him, comment absently on how he knew you just needed papa to take care of you. It's enough to keep that small kernel of excitement alive in your belly, popcorn just waiting for its moment over the burner.

You find it when he shifts too much, rousing you from your reverie with a whine which he hushes a bit too loudly, hands a touch too heavy on your scalp when he apologizes. "Sorry, malýshka. I'm only a man."

He chuckles, but you're far enough gone that the words snag on their way through, drift in the lazy stream of your thoughts for a minute before you can catch them, untangle them enough to make sense. And then you're not laughing, letting his cock loll from between your lips with an embarrassingly sloppy sound, a wordless whine following after it as you try to get the cogs of your thoughts to slot together, petting his belly absently as you look up at him.

Nik's so handsome like this, slick hair shining gold and blue in the lot lights, disheveled from where it's been catching on the ceiling because he's far too tall to be folded in the back like this but he's done it anyway. For your benefit, let you use his body even as it probably drove him up a wall to feel the wet heat of your mouth on him, the tight control he's capable of applied here, on himself, denying his own needs because you'd been acting like the babies inside, kept out too late, crying under the fluorescent lights of an apathetic box store as their mothers broke down with them because the last fashion dolly had been snatched up minutes before they'd arrived.

"Please, papa?"

He hums contemplatively, hand slipping down to massage your shoulders. "Please, what, little one?"

"You… you need…?"

Brows arching to his high hairline, Nik takes a minute to settle your cheek against his hip again, turning you just slightly so you rest more firmly against his leg, your hip and shoulder bearing most of your weight. "Do you think you can handle it, radnaja?" he asks, knowing full well that the answer is no, but that you'll ask for it anyway because it's what you want. To be useful, to treat him. To be reduced to some mindless receptacle, not expected to decide between Nerf guns for graceless little nephews who would break them in less than a day anyway.

"Yes. Please, papa. Please. Let me -."

Nik has to snag your wrist to keep you from pawing at him too eagerly, tucking it behind your hip so he can lean forward and pin it there with the hand that slides heavily down your back, the fabric of your puff jacket hissing as the down parts for him. (Only the best and the warmest for his little one.) Leaning forward, his belly blocks out most of the remnant light from behind the tinted windows, lulls you further under with the soft-firm pressure. When his free hand pulls back to adjust himself, you're engulfed completely, lips parting blindly to accept him and huffing when he reprimands you with a gentle squeeze of your wrist for trying to pull more of his length in with your tongue.

"Take what I give, you, malýshka. Nothing more." His voice is warning when it finally registers, gravel deep. As far from soothing as it's been since you snapped at him about gift bags and he made you leave your entire shopping cart in the middle of the stationary aisle, but you want to listen to him so you do, jaw going slack as your tongue simply pulses against him, trying to coax that first drop from his slit. 

He doesn't give it to you, not yet anyway. Pumping himself to full hardness with a careless clutch of three fingers without your help at all. Nik makes you squirm until you wear yourself out, quiet pleas falling on deaf ears as he returns to humming absently. At one point you hear his head thump against the back of the headrest and the tune goes thin, ragged. You picture the strong column of his neck, shaded dark with stubble and low light, flexing around the garbled Russian that spills from his lips. It's familiar, somehow, the cadence more than the pitch, but trying to place it when your brain is so fuzzy is like trying to catch a snowflake on your fingernail. Won't happen until you're not trying. So you slip in and out of it, focus more on the way his voice gets reedy if you cup your tongue around his head, give him a nice, warm pad to lay on. 

When you rock against the flex of your own thighs, Nik's leg draws close to your front, his knee slotting up to your cunt and you shift until you feel the hard press of your seam on your clit, whining around the intrusion in your mouth just to hear him shush you. 

"Said take what I give you, greedy thing. Don't be impatient."

But despite his words, it seems Nik himself is. Hand climbing to the back of your head, he pushes you down until he prods at the back of your throat, bouncing you there until his thigh flexes against your tummy, an odd jump of his quad you've come to know quite well. You hum happily and relax your throat, let him sink past the ring of muscle just to feel the catch, painting your tongue as he pulls back out and orders you not to swallow, whispers how he wants to see. You know what he means anyway, swallowing just enough that you don't make a mess, let it overflow and soak your skin, your clothes, his upholstery.

As if you'd ever waste it.

It's bad. Bitter with the hot coffee he'd had earlier, steam wafting around him as he'd carried the bags piled in the front seat now, hand dwarfing the cup. You rock against your inseam more at the memory than at the taste, listening to the relieved groan he emits as he finally finishes, one last pulse dribbling against your chin as he pulls himself free. You close your mouth as he manhandles you to your knees in front of him, opening again for his inspection when he lets slip a long string of Russian you don't understand. You hear Úmnitsa a few times between licks to your lips, the overheated skin of your jaw. His grip changes, cradling your face to let you melt into him and you shudder past your last swallow so he can pull you against his chest, showering your crown in kisses and you melt, his voice washing over you, driving the remaining overcrowding in your brain away until it's just that, just being good for him.

It's why you don't quite notice the weight of his palm on your hip, the warmth against your crotch when he drags it lower, content just to let him choose, happy to be pulled along. His fingers are deft on the button of your jeans, the first two fingers of his gloves cut off, allowing him to be nimble. You're done for the second he gets the pad of his middle finger against your clit, working you over until you're gasping against his chest, clutching at his strong arms like some wilting maiden.

You're fawn-legged and docile when he walks you back toward the shops, muttering something about a table at the nice Italian place which goes over your head. In your defense, he's gutted you so thoroughly and stuffed you so full of cotton that the jangling music doesn't even register anymore, let alone his words. Blocked off, plugged up right at the ear, Úmnitsa left to simmer on the hot plate of your cranial floor instead, drowning out the crunch of snow underfoot and the din of holiday chaos alike. You barely even notice when he ducks close to kiss your temple and says you'll stop for warm cookies after dinner, motioning to a bustling little shop which bursts at the seams with warm light and warmer vanilla. You just nod graciously, somewhat beyond speech.

The restaurant is blessedly quiet, lights dimmed to let the twinkle of their warm icicle lighting set the tone. The colors are muted, too. Quiet creams and golds, deep reds which settle you further into your own softness. The spell briefly lifts when you spot your other date, the silver in his beard catching the low light fetchingly. Stumbling ahead of Nik, you duck past the newspaper he's reading and plant a soft kiss on his whiskery cheek. "Sorry for being a brat, daddy," you whisper, folding yourself into the seat next to him so you can rest your head on his strong shoulder. 

John just hums, folding his reading material up as Nik sits on your other side. You can't see the captain's face, but you can almost hear the curl of his lip when he speaks to Nik, voice mildly annoyed by the stickiness he must have caught on your lips, but soft nonetheless. Just for the two of them. "Bad one, was it?"

You'd be embarrassed, if Nik was. "Would not go under for me. All I could think to do. Practically begged for it."

"You spoil her," John chastises, but it's rich coming from someone who's got the contents of your abandoned shopping cart bagged and hidden under the table. You give his shoulder a kiss and his big palm finds your thigh, warm and soothing.

"Well, it worked."

"That's true." John squeezes your leg, voice taking on a patronizing tone as he addresses you for the first time. "You're a lot sweeter when you're not throwing a fit."

"Wasn't a fit," you grumble, but it would be no use trying to describe your state, and you've no words to do so besides.

John just grunts noncommittally, tips his menu your way. "Well, what do you want, sweet -?"

"I've got it," Nik interjects, barely even deigning to look away from his own booklet. 

"You've got it?"

"You want the pork milanese, yes, malýshka?"

Unconcerned with what it means when Nik's thick accent sifts through Italian, you just nod. You're hungry enough not to be picky, anyway. They lapse into a stretch of silence after, for which you're a little grateful. Especially when Nik takes up his humming again, voice lilting through and adding to the orchestral score which plays softly overhead and now you hear it with the alto added in, you recognize it for what it is, voice climbing perilously close to angered after how hard he'd just worked to settle you.

"Were you singing me Christmas music back there?"

oh, and three's assassination attempt ended with:

but price just wants to keep winding you up, 'they're not going to the car. they're going to sit here and we're going to enjoy a meal as a family'

>:)

also, there exists a fully written version of this which culminated in a human urinal scene instead cause i wanted to to treat myself so lmk if anyone is interested in that version

dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/strangergraphics

[beef-brisket]

Angel looked around the room: Me? Uh... I drank Huskers favorite whiskey last week. And I drank it from the bottle.

Husk: What?!

Angel: And I didn't wipe the rim.

Husk: The fuck Angel!?

Angel: It was a rough day at work, okay!?

Charlie: Thank you, Angel. Husk? How about you?

Husk: I ain't part of this shit!

Adam: Says the fucker in the circle.

Husk spins around and glares at Adam: I got pulled in. Ass hat.

Adam smirked: I thought kitties were meant to be sweet and cuddly~?

Angel: Pft. Not this one.

Husk glares at Angel: Fine. One night, you pissed me off, so I used your toothbrush to clean under the bar.

Angel: What!?

Adam snickered. He loved this shit.

Charlie: Okay! We're going good! I'll go next. Dad, I brake onto your room when you're not here.

Lucifer: Huh? Why?

Charlie: I uh... s-sleep on your bed. It makes me feel closer to you, like you're next to me.

Adam eyed Lucifer: See how much you fucked her up?

Lucifer glares at him before looking back at Charlie. He stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

Lucifer: Oh- Char, that's-.

He yelled as he was pushed from behind.

Adam: Comfort your daughter, you prick.

Lucifer quickly went over to Charlie and pulled her into a hug. He had no idea Charlie was going into his room, but his heart broke at the visual of her lying on his bed.

Lucifer: I'm here, sweetie, and I'm not going anywhere. You can come to my room whenever you want. Okay, hun?

Charlie says nothing and only nods. Her arms wrapped tightly around her father, and her head buried I to his neck.

After a few minutes, they let go, and Lucifer wiped Charlie's tears.

Lucifer: I love you, sweetheart.

Charlie: I love you to, dad.

She smiled as Lucifer made his way back to the couch: O-Okay! Sorry about that. Who's next? Pentious?

Sir Pentious perked up and smiled: Of corssse! I've made a new group of egg boiz, and I usssed DNA from everyone in this hotel to make them!

Everyone looks disgusted, and stared at him.

Angel: How the fuck did you get my DNA!?

Sir Pentious: Do you really want me to answer that?

Adam watched as everyone started arguing with the snake guy. He had a feeling they guy with two dicks was a freak. He starred laughing when Angel pulled out a hun and pointed at Sir Pentious.

Vaggie: Why the fuck are we fighting!? This was Adam's idea- and he's sitting over there, enjoying this shit!

Asam: Yeah, duh. But don't you all feel closer to eachother~?

Vaggie growled as there was a gunshot. She stormed over to Adam and stood in front of him.

Vaggie: What's your fucking game, huh!?

Adam: No game, bitch. Just enjoying the show~.

Vaggie: Maybe it should be your turn to confess something!

Adam: Oh, I would love to. Expect I'm not working towards redemption, I'm already in Heaven, bitch.

Adam lent back and smiled up at Vaggie.

Adam: What about you? Vagatha. Anything you'd like to confess? I can think of one~.

Adam gestured to his wings and smirked at how pissed off Vaggie looked. It wasn't until she glared at him for a few seconds that she realized it was quiet. She glanced around the room and saw everyone was watching her.

Vaggie: ...I don't know what you're talking about.

Adam: Don't you? That's weird... I could have sworn I knew you from somewhere...

Vaggie: Shut the fuck up, Adam.

Adam: Or what? You're going to pull out your little spear? I'm surprised no one's asked where you got it.

Charlie: Vaggie? What is he talking about?

Adam: And you weren't the best on my team, there's no way your bitch ass could take me on. Isn't that right, Vagina?

Vaggie: I-It's nothing, Charlie!

Lucifer glared at Adam: What are you talking about?

Adam: Ask her, not me.

What about an au where Adam goes to Hell for night trips, wher ehe just parties and fucks. He has a disguise (it's just a slightly different looking helmet).

Lucifer joins his daughter and her friends at a bar, where he sees "Adam". He instantly knows it's him, but he's curious as to what he's doing.

So Lucifer spends hours flitting with him and buying him drinks to get him drunk. But Lucifer actually finds himself having a great time.

Long story short- they fuck, Adam doesn't let Lucifer know he's Adam. He goes back to Heaven and after a few months, he finds out he's pregnant.

Which is fucking weird cause he's definitely a dude, and he's very dead. But Lucifer's the Devil 🤷.

He basically has to play it off as him getting fat. It's working until the next meeting with Lucifer happens during his ninth month, and he's goes into labor right in front of Lucifer.

Lucifer: Why didn't you tell me your were fucking pregnant!?

Adam: Because you didn't know it was me!!

Lucifer: Yes I did! You have the same face!

Adam: ..... Oh..

[grapejuicebluesrry]

28th november fic rec!

*welcome to the final show*

this is the last 28th appreciation of 2024 for me, as i'll be posting my 2024 fic recs in the last week of december so ill just include my december recs in there :)

so! here's my november fic recs:

Eternal Summer (65K) by j_klmnop

After the death of his estranged father, Harry makes the trip from London to Naples, Italy to say his goodbyes. He has seven days before the funeral and since he's on summer break from university, he decides to make a road trip out of it.

His carefully planned trip is thrown a loop when he meets a beautiful blue eyed hitchhiker named Louis, who is trying to escape his controlling family. With no destination in mind— just the desire to get as far away as possible, Louis decides to tag along for the ride to Italy, with plans to continue on once they arrive.

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now that we're alone (say you hate me) (18K) by 28goldensfics | @28goldens

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are Co-Project Managers, constantly bickering at work, always finding themselves at odds, and competing to be the best. When a scheduling mishap with their company’s timeshare forces them to share a summer vacation, they're less than thrilled. But, as they navigate their time together, they realize that their animosity might be masking something a bit deeper than the hate.

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reminiscence (259K) by Fxckinf

“I’ll always look after you.” Louis whispers.

“Always?”

“Always and forever, Harold.”

Or

Louis and Harry were the friends that fell in love and then broke up. Harry tries to navigate having his ex in his friendship group, which only gets harder when it becomes apparent that there’s a secret.

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if we were butterflies (52K) by blueskiesrry | @blueskiesrry

“Is this how I used to look at you?” His hand hovers just over the collarbone of the sculpture, like he’s caught between wanting to touch and wanting to pull away, wanting to leave and wanting to stay.

Eyes stuck on Harry, unaware of anything else in the room, Louis whispers, “Something like that,” wondering now if he ever quite did it justice.

or: after recruiting harry to model for his sculptures and coming to know all his edges, louis loses him to a life more prosperous than he can provide. he finds harry again four years later.

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Seeing Blind (46K) by zedi

Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

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Stars over Amsterdam (4K) by HelloLovers13 | @hellolovers13

Louis remembers how stressed they were, trying to get tickets at all. The waiting for the email with the code, which only Louis got, the actual On-sale. How Harry stood behind him, peeling at his nails nervously. Trying not to distract Louis.

But it had all gone smoothly and he had gotten the tickets within just a few minutes.

Harry had jumped around Louis’s chair in excitement like a bouncing ball. Already starting to plan their outfits.

A gold fringe dress for Harry, Fearless was his favourite album, after all, and a matching shirt he had found online for Louis. So people could tell right away they were an item.

That was their plan. Before it all went to shit.

or

Fate in form of Eras Tour tickets forces Louis to meet up with his Ex.

Hopefully soon to be Ex-Ex.

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[series] I See Us in Black & White (70K) by Ioudloudlove

Harry Styles is just your average 20-something. He followed his soul to a new town and now he works hard as a barman and lives alone in his little house. That is until he's swept off his feet... literally.

When Harry regains consciousness, his entire world has changed. Everything that was once black and white is now flooded with colour. And the first person he sees is his soulmate...Liam.

What Harry didn't count on was Liam's best mate...Louis. What is it about him that Harry just can't let go of? Why has his entire world been turned around? And is it really possible to walk away from your soulmate to chase a dream?

Original Prompt:

soulmate au where you see the world in black-and-white until you meet your soulmate. Harry Styles meets two people at once at the moment he first sees in colour, makes the wrong choice, and falls in love with the right one anyway

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Whole Lot of History (73K) by Blue_Green28 | @bluegreen28fics

Louis and Harry have a whole lot of history. With 3 children coming out of their twelve years long marriage they are essential parts of each other's lives even though they have moved on with new partners since their divorce ten years ago. Or have they?

What happens when Harry finally gets some money to open the coffee shop he had always dreamed of and they spend more time together to plan everything? Does their love still have a chance?

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Not having a breakdown! (I'm just here for the kid.) (28K) by louisismycat (tiflamomet) | @liminalkitty369

Harry has to park outside his ex-husband’s (Louis) wedding so that he can whisk their kid away if a meltdown ensues during the day. Guests will not know this and will only see him parked outside, it cannot be stressed enough, his ex-husband’s wedding.

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Hazelbridge (77K) by CoolCrying

Nestled in the heart of the Yorkshire Dales, the tiny town of Hazelbridge has been home to Louis and his family for generations. Heir to his grandfather's historic bookshop, Louis lives a quiet but happy life, providing a hub for the town's many queer people, and indulging his love for books. That is, until Harry Styles comes to town.

This is the story of a town and two bookshops. It's the story of a family, and two boys with very different stories, who fell in love.

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At Least Let Me Buy You Dinner First (35K) by Anonymouis

“I said, Harry. As in Styles. AKA you. You’re pretty and certainly a piece of art if you ask me.” Louis mewls.

“Oh,” Harry breathes. He takes a moment taking in Louis.

Louis watches his eyes work their way all over his face and body trying to read him. Luckily, he knows just how to read Harry. The moment their eyes meet again, Louis leans in a little at a time, as slowly as possible. His heart racing, giving Harry all the time to back out, but then, Harry is reaching around Louis’ wrist and sliding their hands together, lacing their fingers and leaning in as well.

Then…

The bell above the door rings.

They both pull back at light speed, sniffling and coughing from almost being caught. Harry trips over his own feet with the force that he used. Giggles fall from both of them while Louis steadies him.

“First day with legs there, bambi?”

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Come What May (58K) by j_klmnop

Louis didn't believe in love at first sight until he met his neighbour Harry, the gorgeous man in the apartment next door who saved lives and had a smile that made his knees weak.

Louis was determined that today was the day he would finally grow some balls and ask Harry on a date.

Until his plans were disrupted by an unexpected delivery. One that would surely ruin his chances at any kind of love life.

Or, maybe it would be just what Louis needed to bring he and Harry closer together.

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2 a.m. texts (30K) by everysingleday

Harry has just come out and, with his best friend Louis’ support, he might finally be brave enough to go on a date with the guy he’s been chatting with on a dating app. Meanwhile, there’s a cat that wants to murder Louis, a fast-approaching deadline for Harry to find a new place to live, and this minor situation wherein he and Louis can’t seem to stop making out. It’s not a big deal. Louis is just being supportive.

—

aka, a practice kissing fic.

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Roman Empire (11K) by Speechless

One day Louis answers Liam's phone while he is in the shower.

That's how he meets Harry, Liam's friend who moved to Italy just a while ago.

And that's how Liam loses ownership of his phone.

“Do they sleep on the other side of the bed in Italy?”

He hears Harry laugh for a moment.

“I sleep right in the middle,” Harry replies. “Because no one will marry me.”

Louis bites back a little smile.

“Have you asked enough people?”

“The old lady walking her dog, just now.” Harry confirms. “She said no.”

Written for the BLFF 2024

Based on prompt 205: A Larry fic that includes the “I love you,” “no, you don’t” convo.

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stat time!!

948,562 words read (2% less than last month)

25 fics read (4% less than last month)

25 authors (0% more than last month)

🍫 for you for making it this far

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Twenty: Precipice

Chapter WC: 5,689

Chapter Warnings: This is a rough one, I think we all knew it was going to be rough but just reiterating, Jedi Council fuckery is afoot

A/N: We're back in the building again (emotional). This is where I flag that our girl is perhaps not the most reliable narrator, but damn if she isn't at least a little justified.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Join the Taglist | Masterlist

Coruscant, 21 BBY

Anger.

It's all you can feel. It's the only thing that exists, all-consuming and burning hot, a fury that leaves you shaking. The rage is a living thing, a beast clawing at your chest, a monster tearing at your heart, threatening to swallow you whole.

You are standing on a precipice, a thin thread of sanity keeping you tethered to reality.

Your mind is a storm.

They won't listen. 

They won't even look at you.

You knew it was a long shot, but still, you'd held out hope. Even now, when you're sitting in the middle of the Council chamber, staring at the faces of the men and women you once considered your family, a small part of you is whispering that it might still work.

It won't.

You can see it in their eyes. They won't even pretend to hear you. They've barely acknowledged the proof. The proof that Obi-Wan delivered personally. The proof that Rex has risked his life and career to find.

They didn't even bat an eye. It was like they'd known it was coming, like they'd been expecting it. Like it meant nothing.

But it's all you have.

Yaddle's lightsaber is clutched firmly in your hand, so tight your knuckles white and the metal bites into the flesh of your palm. Your eyes dart across the room. Each member is staring back at you, their faces blank. You're the only one standing, your legs carrying you restlessly from side to side. You can't sit still. Not with them looking at you like that. Not when they're acting like this.

Obi-Wan is seated a few feet away, his posture stiff, his gaze fixed on a spot somewhere behind your shoulder. He hasn't met your eyes since he'd shown the Council the evidence and taken his seat beside them. It was a choice, and a deliberate one. He'd made his decision. He'd chosen his side.

It shouldn't surprise you.

You'd known it would be bad. You'd expected hostility, and defensiveness, and a general lack of interest. What you hadn't expected was the silence, the looks of pity. The complete and utter disregard for Yaddle's memory.

It's as if they're only waiting for you to finish, waiting for you to walk away and accept the inevitable.

You're not going to.

"How could you?" you whisper. Your voice is hoarse, and raw, and you sound desperate, even to your own ears. "How could you just let her disappear like that? She was a Jedi Master, a member of this Council. After everything she's done, everything she's sacrificed, you're going to let her memory fade away? How can you do that? How can you do that to her?"

No one speaks. No one moves. You're the only one standing. You're the only one who cares.

The tears threaten to spill, and you blink rapidly, trying to keep them at bay. Your heart is pounding, and the air is thick with the Force, a pressure building in the back of your mind. For years, you'd been begging for a chance to make them listen. Now, it's all you can do not to scream.

"It was Dooku," you say, your voice breaking. "Count Dooku. He did this."

Still, no one moves.

You glance at Obi-Wan, and he winces, a grimace flashing across his features. You know he can feel it. The pain. The grief. It's eating away at you, devouring your soul. Your emotions are raw and volatile, and there's a crackling in your chest, a heat building inside you. You're shaking, your fists clenched, and the air around you seems to vibrate. The tight grip on your control is slipping, and a part of you doesn't care. A part of you wants to tear this room apart. To make them feel even a fraction of what you're feeling.

You can see Master Yoda watching you out of the corner of your eye, his gaze never wavering. He's the only one who hasn't looked away, and he's not moving, either. He's sitting as still as stone, his hands resting on his knees, his expression placid. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was in a trance.

You can't bring yourself to look directly at him.

"Answer me," you snap, and your head snaps around, glaring at each member of the Council in turn. "How could you do this? How could you ignore this?"

There's a long pause, and Master Yoda finally sighs, his ears drooping.

"Spoken enough, we have," he murmurs. His tone is calm, his voice low, spoken as if he were talking to a child. It's condescending. Patronizing. And it only fuels the anger. "Time it has come, for you to listen."

"Listen to what?" you snarl. "Your lies? Your excuses?"

"Yourself, young one."

The words are spoken softly, but there's a hint of sadness to them, a note of sympathy. It's enough to give you pause, the anger ebbing slightly

"What?" you snap.

"Lost in grief, you are." He closes his eyes, his lips pressing together, a crease appearing on his forehead. "Forgotten the wisdom of Master Yaddle, you have."

"I haven't forgotten anything," you hiss. "She was murdered, and—"

"The Council has decided," Master Windu cuts you off, his eyes flashing. "This matter is settled."

"Settled," you echo. Your mouth twists, and you shake your head, your brows furrowing. "No. No, it's not settled. Not until someone answers for what happened to her. Her murderer is out there, and he's still running free. We can't just sit here and do nothing."

His eyes narrow. "We are not doing nothing."

You stare at him, unable to comprehend what he's saying. You're breathing heavily, your body shaking, and it feels like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. You want to scream. You want to run. You want to throw something, or break something, or hurt something. Anything. Anything is better than this. Better than watching them look at you like this, as if they can't understand why you're upset. As if they can't comprehend why you would be so angry.

As if the fact that a member of their Order was murdered means nothing.

Obi-Wan shifts, his posture tense. His expression is pained, and his hands are clasped in front of him, his gaze fixed on a point behind your shoulder. He doesn't move, doesn't speak, and, for a brief moment, you think about reaching out through your bond. You think about demanding that he help. But, then you remember.

You remember that he chose this. You remember that he is, in fact, a part of this. A part of whatever game they're playing. A part of this lie.

The anger is replaced by hurt, and you're struck by the sudden realization that he's never been on your side. That, when it comes down to it, he's always been with them. Always. No matter how much he says he's your friend, no matter how many times he claims that he's looking out for you, it's not true. Not really. He's one of them, and he's always going to choose them. He's never going to choose you. Not now, not ever.

"Yaddle deserved better," you hiss. "She deserved justice."

"And she will get it," Master Windu says calmly. "In time."

Your eyes flash, and you grit your teeth, biting back the retort. Your fingers tighten around the hilt of her lightsaber, the metal creaking under the pressure. The pain is grounding. It's the only thing keeping you from breaking down, but you know that the moment you release the blade, the anger will take over.

You're not sure what will happen then.

"Time," you spit. "That's your answer? More time? Hasn't ten years been enough?"

"The Council has decided," Master Mundi snaps, his voice hard. "Your outbursts are a waste of time, and a distraction. I suggest you learn to control your emotions before you embarrass yourself any further."

You gape at him, your mouth hanging open, voice dying in your throat. A wave of shame washes over you, and you swallow. A distraction. That's all you are. An annoyance. A burden. Someone who needs to be controlled.

The truth stings, but it's a familiar one. You've been treated as a child, as an outsider, for most of your life. Even now, even after everything you've done, everything you've accomplished, it's still all they see. A lost, helpless, little girl.

You hate it.

"A distraction," you repeat, your voice soft. There's a hollow note to your words, a numbness that's spreading through you, and you can feel your anger dissipating, fading away into a cold, empty nothingness.

Master Mundi's gaze softens, and he lets out a sigh, his hands folding in his lap. "I didn't mean—"

"You're right," you interrupt, your eyes meeting his. You don't need him to explain. You know exactly what he meant. "You're right. This is a waste of time."

You turn and head for the door, walking briskly. You can't stay in here a moment longer. You can't look at them, or listen to them. It's too much. Too much, and not enough, and it's tearing you apart. You have to leave. You have to get out.

"Stop."

The command is firm, and it echoes in the chamber, reverberating through the Force. You stop in your tracks, your eyes closing. It's Master Yoda's voice. You can't disobey it.

"Leave, you will not," he says quietly, and there's a hint of something new in his tone, something warm and gentle and familiar. Something that sounds suspiciously like sorrow. "Your place, this is. Come back. Listen."

"My place," you murmur. The words are bitter, and they taste like ash in your mouth. You can't bring yourself to move. Your mind is screaming, and your body is frozen, your muscles locked in place. And you know that if you turn around, it will be worse.

"Yes," he confirms, his voice still low. "Your place."

You clench your jaw, and you shake your head, unable to speak. You want nothing more than to run, to get as far away from the Council as possible. From the Order. From all of it.

But, he's right. Your place is here. It's all you've ever known. And, the idea of leaving is unthinkable.

Slowly, you turn, your gaze drifting across the chamber, settling on Master Yoda. He's watching you, his expression neutral, but you can see it. The sadness. He looks tired, and old, and weary, his shoulders sagging beneath an invisible weight.

Your heart twists, and you feel a surge of empathy. You've never seen him look like that before. You've never seen him look defeated. It's unsettling, and you have no idea what to make of it.

You swallow, and take a deep breath, steeling yourself.

"Alright," you say, and your voice is calm, even. The opposite of how you feel, and yet, you find that it's not hard. Not as hard as you'd thought. Perhaps because you've spent a lifetime learning how to hide your emotions, to bury them, to bury everything. You've had a lot of practice.

The Council is quiet, and you can feel their eyes on you, but you keep your gaze fixed on Master Yoda. The two of you are locked in a silent battle, neither willing to break contact. Neither willing to admit defeat.

The silence stretches, and you shift your stance, leaning forward, your weight resting on your toes. Your hand tightens around Yaddle's lightsaber, and you take a deep breath, gathering your strength.

"Let's hear it, then," you say. Your voice is firm, and unwavering, and there's a confidence to it that surprises even you. You square your shoulders, and straighten, tilting your chin. "What is it that you need to tell me, Master Yoda?"

The corner of his mouth quirks, and his expression softens, a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

"Good," he says. His ears twitch, and his gaze sweeps over you, assessing, evaluating. He gives a slight nod, seemingly satisfied with what he sees. "Better."

Your lips part, but no sound comes out. For a moment, you're not sure what to say, or if you should say anything. Then, you shake your head, and take a step forward, a scowl spreading across your face.

"Fine," you hiss. "I'll play along. I'm listening. Now, what is it? What is it that's so important? What is it that's been so difficult to tell me? Tell me, so we can get this over with."

You can feel Obi-Wan flinch, and his gaze darts to Master Windu, his expression uncertain.

"There is another matter," Master Windu speaks up. His tone is careful, and measured, his gaze darting to Master Yoda. He clears his throat, and looks back at you. "A personal matter. One that involves you."

A cold sense of dread begins to settle over you. A personal matter. One that involves you. You don't like where this is going. You don't like it at all.

Your mind races, trying to think of what else they could possibly want to talk about. What else could possibly be worth this, worth everything they've put you through.

And then, it hits you.

Your blood turns to ice, and a chill runs down your spine, goosebumps erupting along your arms.

Try as you might to stop it, your head snaps to Obi-Wan, finding his face. You search his expression, your gaze darting over every inch of his features, trying to read his reaction. He's not looking at you. He's staring at Master Windu, his lips pressed together, his hands gripping his robes.

He looks guilty.

Your stomach lurches, and your eyes widen, realization washing over you. You'd hoped. You'd prayed. You'd wished and wished and wished that it wouldn't come to this. That he wouldn't betray you like this. He promised. He promised that he wouldn't interfere with whatever you have with Rex. That he wanted you to be happy. That he would do anything to make sure you were safe.

But, here you are.

The betrayal is enough to bring the anger rushing back, and your hand grips the hilt of Yaddle's lightsaber, your nails digging into the metal. You glare at Obi-Wan, and his eyes flick up, meeting yours. He winces, but he holds your gaze, the sorrow in his eyes almost palpable.

You should have known. Of course he would do this. Of course. It's exactly what you'd expect from him. He's always been like this, always putting duty above all else, always prioritizing the Code, even if it meant hurting you. But, this...this is too far.

Master Windu speaking, saying something, but his voice is a dull buzz in your ears. You can't hear him. Your brain is screaming at you to leave, to run, to get out. Get out before it's too late. Get out while you can. But, your feet are rooted to the floor, and you can't move, can't look away.

Your eyes are locked on Obi-Wan's, and the fury is boiling over, burning hot, scorching.

"—promotion. It's time. You're ready."

The words snap you back to reality, and you blink, tearing your gaze away from Obi-Wan, forcing yourself to focus.

"What?" you ask.

"A promotion," Master Windu repeats.

The words break through the haze, and you frown, your brows furrowing. Your mind is reeling, and you try to make sense of what he's saying, but it's like your brain is short-circuiting, everything going fuzzy. The anger and betrayal is pushed aside for a brief moment as you find yourself staring at him, disbelief replacing the rage.

"What?" you choke out.

"The Council taken your recommendation into consideration, and we've agreed," Master Windu says. His voice is low, his gaze never leaving yours. "A new brigade is needed, and Commander Booker will lead it. You will be his superior officer, and he will report directly to you."

You gape at him, unable to respond. He's serious. He's completely serious.

The words echo in your mind, and you feel yourself go cold, your knees threatening to buckle. You fumble to keep your grip on Yaddle's lightaber, and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, a rush of blood and static and white noise. It's all you can hear. All you can feel.

"What?" you breathe.

Your gaze darts between the Council members, and each one meets your eyes, their faces solemn. Master Plo's head dips in agreement, and Master Ki-Adi-Mundi is nodding, his expression serious. Even Master Windu is watching you, his jaw set, his hands folded. There's no malice in his eyes. No deception. They're serious.

The Council has decided.

It's too much. It's all too much.

Master Yoda is watching you, his eyes wide, his ears perked. His lips are turned up slightly, a faint smile on his face. He seems pleased with himself, with this turn of events. But, there's something else there, too. Something like regret.

He knows what this means.

"Surprised, are you?" he asks. "Happy, I would expect you to be."

"No," you reply. You shake your head, and take a step back, nearly stumbling. "I'm not happy. This isn't...it's not... This is a mistake."

"This is not a mistake," Master Plo speaks up. "This is well deserved."

"No," you say again, louder this time. Your voice cracks, and your throat is raw, tears pricking at your eyes. "No, it's not. I didn’t—I only meant to recommend Booker. To help him. I didn't mean— I didn't want—"

"You may not have intended to do so, but the decision was made nonetheless," Master Windu counters. He steeples his fingers and leans forward, his dark eyes narrowed. "There is no debate. Your role as General is essential."

"This is ridiculous," you snap. "I'm not—"

"You are," he interrupts. His voice is sharp, and the words cut through the air like a knife. You suck in a breath, and your jaw snaps shut. "You've proven yourself. You're capable, and you're intelligent, and you're more than deserving. You're ready."

Your breath leaves you in a rush, and you stare at him, blinking rapidly, trying to process his words. An entire brigade, a legion of men, all reporting directly to you. The responsibility, the pressure, the expectations. It's a nightmare. And, yet, here it is, standing before you, a reality.

"If it were up to me, this would have happened months ago," he continues. "I have no doubts, none at all, about your ability to command."

"This is insane," you mutter. "Completely insane."

"This is necessary," Master Windu says, his voice firm. "This is not a punishment. This is a reward."

"I don't want a reward," you manage, your voice barely a whisper. "Not like this. I just wanted—"

"You wanted justice," Mace says. He sighs, and he stands, his robes swishing as he walks towards you. He stops a few feet away, and he raises his hands, placing them on your shoulders. "And you will get it. But, not today."

You swallow, and you blink, tears stinging your eyes. The anger is gone, replaced by something else. Something worse. You feel helpless, and alone, and lost. And, above all, terrified.

"Not today, not tomorrow," you mumble. You shrug his hands off, stepping back, turning away from him. "Nothing ever—"

Obi-Wan stands abruptly, and the sound of his chair scraping against the floor cuts off the end of your sentence. He turns, his gaze landing on you, his eyes flashing. You can feel his anger through the bond, and it only fuels your own, a renewed surge of rage coursing through your veins.

"Enough," he hisses. His hands are clenched at his sides, and he stalks toward you, stopping just short of touching you. "We've heard enough."

His voice is cold, final. He's not asking, he's not giving you a choice. He's telling you to stop. To back off.

Your eyes narrow, and you glare at him, your chin jutting out. You're clutching it so tightly that the metal bites into your palm, and for a split second, you think about using it. The thought is extinguished a moment later, but not without consequence. You know he felt it. You know that he sensed it. He can't miss it. Not after all this time. Not with him.

"Enough, we have," Master Yoda murmurs. "Settled, this matter is."

"Yaddle's death is tragic, and her loss was a blow to us all. But, her legacy will live on. Her memory will guide us," Master Windu continues, his tone even. "The war will not last forever. We must focus on the future. And, the future lies with the Jedi. We'll discuss the details of your assignment later. For now, you're dismissed."

Obi-Wan's hand encloses around your arm, and he tugs, pulling you towards the exit. You stumble after him, struggling to keep up, still reeling from what's happening.

He's muttering something under his breath, his voice harsh and low. You catch the words 'ridiculous' and 'obstinate' and 'misunderstanding.' The two of you cross the room in a blur, and then the doors are opening, and the light from the corridor washes over you. It's blinding, and you shield your eyes, blinking rapidly.

Obi-Wan doesn't let go. His hand remains on your arm, and his fingers dig into your flesh, the pressure almost painful. He pulls you along, his strides long and purposeful. Your mind is racing, the events replaying over and over, the conversation playing on a loop. You're barely aware of where he's taking you. You're just moving.

The sound of the door opening pulls you out of your daze, and you realize he's taken you to his rooms. He releases you and steps back, the door sliding shut behind him. You spin around, glaring at him, ready to unleash a barrage of questions.

He's already speaking, his voice clipped.

"That could have gone better," he says. His arms fold across his chest, and he leans against his desk, his gaze never wavering from yours. "It could have gone much better."

You gape at him, momentarily speechless. Your jaw works, and you sputter, trying to find the words, to formulate a response.

"You—I can't—" You pause, trying to collect yourself. "You're lecturing me? You're actually lecturing me? After everything that's happened?"

"You need to learn when to give up," Obi-Wan shoots back. He runs a hand over his beard, a frown pulling at his lips. "You've accomplished nothing. Absolutely nothing. If anything, you've made it worse."

"You said you'd help me," you accuse. Your eyes narrow, and your fingers flex around Yaddle's lightsaber, digging into the hilt. "You said you would. You promised."

"I tried," he counters. He pushes off his desk, walking towards you, his shoulders tense. "I did. I did everything I could, but you—you weren't listening. You never listen. And you're going to get yourself killed."

"That's not your call," you snap. "That's not your decision to make."

"It's not mine," he agrees. He stops in front of you, his eyes blazing. "But, I won't let you jeopardize this, not anymore. The war is too important, and it needs your full attention. You can't afford distractions."

"My full attention," you echo. Your jaw drops, and you scoff, shaking your head. "Are you serious? You're not—you're not my keeper. You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do."

"No," Obi-Wan concedes. "But, I can tell you when you're making a mistake. And this, this is a mistake. You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment, and you're not thinking clearly. Again. This isn't just about Yaddle. It's more than that."

"More," you repeat. Your hands ball into fists, and your nails bite into your palms, drawing blood. The anger is boiling over, threatening to spill over. "You have no idea—"

"It's not just her," he says. His gaze bores into yours, and his eyes flash, a hint of fear in them. "It's him. He's clouding your judgment, and it's putting everything, and everyone, at risk. Including him. Including yourself."

"So you did do it," you whisper. Your eyes burn, and your throat closes, a lump forming. "You told them."

"What?" He frowns, and his brows knit together. He's genuinely confused, and it only infuriates you more. "Told them what?"

"About Rex," you snap. "About the two of us."

"What?" he repeats. Obi-Wan blinks, and he stares at you, his expression incredulous, before he lets out a bark of laughter. It's a short, sharp sound, and it's not a happy one. "That's what you think? You actually think I did that? After everything I said?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, my dear, you've really lost it," he mutters. He rubs his temples, and shakes his head, a weary sigh escaping his lips. "No, I didn't tell them. No, I wouldn't. Not now, not ever."

"You didn't—" Your lips part, and you gape at him, stunned. You'd been so sure. So certain. And now, you're not sure of anything. "How do I know? How can I trust you?"

"I haven't done a single thing to lose your trust," Obi-Wan says. His tone is sharp, and his jaw is set, his face hard. "Everything I've done has been for your sake. To protect you. To help you. All of it. And, this is how you repay me? With distrust and suspicion? I thought we were past this."

"We were," you say. You can feel the tears forming, and you blink, trying to hold them back. "We were. I didn't mean—I didn't think—"

"Exactly," Obi-Wan finishes. He runs a hand over his hair, and his eyes dart to the ceiling, his frustration evident. "You didn't think. Not once. Not until it was too late."

"That's not fair," you mutter.

"Life isn't fair," he shoots back. He glares at you, and his eyes are narrowed, his brows drawn. "I know you're angry, but this isn't going to help. It's not going to change anything. And, if you think that I would do this to you, to us, you don't know me at all."

"Maybe I don't," you snap. Your chin juts out, and your hands ball into fists, and you glare back, holding his gaze. "Maybe we don't know each other. Not anymore."

The words are meant to hurt, and they do. He winces, and his expression falters, a flicker of pain crossing his features. But, a moment later, his mask slips back into place, and he's staring at you, his eyes flashing.

"That's a cheap shot," he says, his tone flat.

"Yeah," you agree, and you shrug, your eyes burning. "It is."

The silence stretches between you, and you can feel his gaze on you, intense and searching. He's looking for something, and, after a moment, his expression softens, his mouth twisting.

"Is that really what you think?" he asks. His voice is quiet, almost a whisper. "That I don't care about you?"

You suck in a breath, and you turn away from him, your eyes falling closed.

"I don't know what to think anymore," you admit. You press your lips together, and swallow, trying to push down the emotion threatening to overflow. "You just stood there and let them do this to me. You didn't say a word. You didn't stop them."

"I tried," he protests. He takes a step toward you, his hands rising, as if to reach for you, before falling back to his sides. "What was I supposed to say? What was I supposed to do? I tried."

"Not hard enough," you hiss.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I am. I'm sorry. But, this is what needs to happen."

"You could have fought harder," you say. Yaddle's lightsaber is a weight in your hand, a physical reminder of what you've lost. Your fingers tighten around it, and your vision blurs, hot tears pricking at your eyes. "You could have done something. I thought...I thought..."

"You thought what?" Obi-Wan asks, his voice soft. "That I would go up against the entire Council? For you? What good would it have done? It wouldn't have changed anything."

"It would have mattered," you mutter. You scrub at your face, wiping away the tears, refusing to look at him. Though the anger is still burning, the pain is seeping through, and the words are tumbling out of you before you can stop them. "It would have made a difference. It would have meant something."

"It would have meant nothing," he counters. His hand closes around your wrist, and he gently pulls it away from your face, forcing you to look at him. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. I won't. This is what's best, and, eventually, you'll see that. When this is all over, and we're on the other side of the war, everything will be different. Better."

"No," you whisper. "It won't."

Your shoulders slump, and the anger drains out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. You look down, unable to meet his eyes. You can't even bring yourself to care. Not anymore. The fight has gone out of you. 

All the energy, all the fire, all the passion, is gone. It's like a switch has been flipped, the fury replaced by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.

You can't do this anymore.

Obi-Wan lets out a shaky breath, and his hand drops, his fingers curling into his palm.

"This is too much," you mumble. You shake your head, and you run a hand over your hair, pulling at it. Your eyes sting, and your throat feels raw, a lump forming. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep fighting for nothing."

"I understand," he says. He sounds tired. "You've been through a lot. We all have. It's not going to be easy, but we have to keep going. We have to keep fighting."

"Stop." The word is a whisper, a breath, and you shake your head, your gaze lifting, finding his. "Just. Stop, Obi-Wan. I can't hear it right now."

His eyes widen, and his lips part, surprise flickering across his features. He hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected any of this.

"Please," he breathes, his voice low. "Let me help."

"There's nothing to help," you say, the words catching in your throat. They're the truth, the bitter reality you've been ignoring for too long. "I'm tired, Obi-Wan. I'm exhausted. And I don't...I can't..."

"It's going to be okay," he says softly.

"No, it's not," you say. You lift your head, the tears drying on your cheeks, the hurt etched into your face. "It's not okay. Nothing's okay. Yaddle's dead. The Council doesn't care. Nothing's changed. And this war...I thought...I thought that if I came here, if I brought the evidence, that they'd finally listen. That they'd finally see what I've been trying to tell them."

"I know," he murmurs.

"But they didn't," you choke out. The tears start again, and your chin quivers, and it's all you can do not to break down. "They didn't. They won't. And I...I just can't...I can't keep doing this. I can't."

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan says, his eyes searching your face. He takes a step forward, and his hands cup your cheeks, his thumb brushing over your skin. He's gentle, and warm, and his touch is soothing. But, it's not enough. Not now. Not after everything.

"I can't do this anymore," you repeat. You reach up and grasp his hands, prying them away from your face, holding them in front of you. You can't look at him, your eyes fixed on the tremor in his fingers, on the way his hands shake.

"I know," he repeats.

"No, I don't think you do," you say.

You let go of him, and the air rushes out of you, the tension draining from your body. You're empty. You're nothing. It's a familiar feeling, one you've felt before. One you've tried so hard to escape. But, here it is, back again. Taunting you. It's enough to make you want the anger back. The anger is better. It's easier.

Obi-Wan is watching you, his expression uncertain, his hands clasped in front of him. You can feel his anxiety through the bond, the fear, the worry.

"I have to go," you say.

You turn and head for the door, not looking back. There's nothing else to say.

"Wait," he calls out. He follows, his footsteps echoing in the room. "Just wait a minute. Please. Let's talk about this."

"What's there to talk about?" you ask. The door opens, and you step into the corridor, the bright lights washing over you. You can hear him behind you, and you can feel his panic, his desperation, but you don't stop.

"Where are you going?" he asks. His hand wraps around your wrist, and he tugs, his grip tight. "I said wait. Just a moment."

"Let go," you snap. You yank your arm out of his grasp, whirling to face him. He's standing in front of you, his brows drawn, his expression grim. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "I need some space. Please. Just. Give me some time. I need to clear my head."

"Let me help," Obi-Wan insists. His jaw is set, his gaze hard, but his voice is pleading, a hint of fear in his tone. You can't deny it might be warranted. He knows how you get. "You don't have to do this alone."

"You should have helped when it mattered," you say, your voice a hoarse whisper. "When I needed you. When it counted. But, you didn't. So, now, I'm asking you. Please. Just. Give me some time."

Obi-Wan inhales sharply, and the sound is like a knife to the heart. He's hurt. You can feel it. But, the guilt is overpowered by the pain, and you can't bring yourself to care. You're hurting, too. You're so tired of fighting. So tired of trying to fix something that can't be fixed. You can't keep going like this.

You don't know what else to do.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Yeah," you breathe. "Me too."

Without another word, you turn and walk away.

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[homagetohers]

Conversations with You

pairings: Josh Washington x F!Reader, Chris Hartley x Ashley Brown (Until Dawn) type: fluff, too deep into the friendship, mutual pining, subtle flirting vibes intended: nervous - The Neighbourhood for the best experience: read part one of this dribble and use word replacer II as y/n will be used. (i can also make a you / y/n-less version, but i just prefer seeing my name for DR purposes) word count: 3091 part 1 | part 2 | part 3

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say." Josh smiled at her comment. He knew she believed in him. She definitely would believe in everybody in the group when it comes to things they're good at.

She laughed back as the match began. Their hands are all on the keyboard controlling their respective characters. y/n's specific character had her focus on one of her teammates, whoever is most probable to benefit from her presence. to boost their damage and keep their damage consistent. The other support would focus on the rest of the team, mostly Chris, to keep them alive. The other damage dealer creates an ice wall and a one way beam of ice, which means the soldier Josh picked would be the best to support.

He chuckled when they saw the second damage dealer being incompatible with y/n's choice. "Guess you're now truly stuck with me, ms. Support."

She smiled to herself at the fact she'd be with him, but she decided to tease. "I hate it."

"Sure you do." Josh focused on the incoming enemies as he bantered with y/n.

The battlefield was located in Germany. Chris's character was in the front pushing the enemies back under a bridge between two buildings, and Josh was on top while y/n hid behind the wall in order to stay alive; switching between the damage boost beam, being blue, and the yellow healing beam. Chris is the type of guy who shuts up to focus, and he was focusing as hell with the entire team in front of him. Josh and y/n had it quite literally easy.

Still having the blue beam stuck to Josh while he decided to relocate to be behind Chris, y/n sighed. "I kind of regret my choice of character now."

"Oh, why?" There was a little inkling of concern in his voice, but it wasn't a long match to begin with if they don't allow the enemy team to secure the area.

She expressed her feelings begrudgingly. "This is my first game with you both and I have nothing to show for it as this support is literally brainless to play, until you have the entire enemy team running to kill you. Then it's a wild goose chase to fly to your teammates and safety." y/n only remembered her side goal of beating the crap out of these two after joining it.

Josh assured her, he was glad it wasn't anything actually serious, or he wouldn't have known what to do. "It doesn't matter if this is our first game together, we'll have plenty more for sure. You do help the team a lot, regardless of actual kills."

y/n proclaimed in excitement. "Great! Then I'll beat your highest score and get more kills." Almost ready to flex her non-existent muscles, until she realized she was only faced by a screen.

"Can't wait to see-" Josh was cut off.

Chris screeched on the other side. "JOSH!" The second damage dealer and support died and there was only Josh, Chris, and y/n on the map currently. "STOP FLIRTING AND HELP ME! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS? THERE ARE TWO SUPPORTS AND ONE DPS AFTER ME!"

y/n flew to Chris as soon as she could get him in her field vision and Josh used the running ability to get to him faster. "You're a big guy, Chris, you can handle them. We're coming."

She spoke up as soon as the beam connected. "I'll try to heal you up, bring your shield up. When you got enough health, I'll damage boost you to help with attacking against them." Chris obeyed and slowly walked back as his shield was up.

Chris weighed his options and shared his opinion on the current situation. "We gotta wait till the rest of the team comes back. They're also going to regroup."

Josh decided to weigh himself in to allow them information they may have not caught. "y/n, after healing him, come with me. I have my ultimate."

"That's great! We'll just have to wait for our team then so I could be taken care of while y/n's away." Chris cheered, feeling the tide could be pushed against the enemy team.

y/n decided to demonstrate the difference between them newbies and her knowing her way around the map. "Do you know where we could go to catch them off guard?"

Josh took a second to think as he was attacking the enemy team to push them back from Chris as he was being healed. "I was thinking atop the area Chris was?" She linked her beam to Josh signalling that it's time for them to go.

She walked ahead to a secret passage way into a building that led them behind the enemy team. "No, we could actually get behind the enemy team and use Chris and the rest of the team as a distraction."

"Smart thinking, doctor." Josh referenced her character choice in complimenting her.

Josh was getting ready by hiding behind a building along side y/n's character. She still spoke up to prove her superiority. "Mhmm. You can finally see the difference between you and I. I can think of things you wouldn't imagine!"

"Hold your horses, we'll see when you play DPS or tank." Josh pressed the key to use his ultimate, and walked into the battlefield behind the enemy team as she instructed. A full team kill thanks to y/n's boosting and Chris already damaging the entire team.

"Sure." It was long strung from y/n. She took a breath. "As if that wasn't from my critical thinking." y/n sarcastically kept a monotone voice.

Josh began to tease her, but he decided to go a little farther than what he usually would. "I couldn't have done it without you! I will kiss and worship the ground you walk on, you mastermind! What could I do without you, my dear princess?"

She decided to answer without thinking. "Hardy har. That wouldn't even be enough after I scored you the play of the game, lowly peasant." If she let his words sink in, she'd go against his earlier comment and she wanted to be special in his eyes. If staying strong during his playful flirting and jokes means that, then so be it.

Behind the screen, the facade, she was on the brink of shutting the game off. The winning message showed on all three of their screens. Chris began to chuckle and went to message Josh after that comment. Y/n's cheeks flushed and she grabbed her phone straight away.

y/n: AAAAAAASSSSHHHHHLLLLEEEEYYYYYY Ashley: WHAT? y/n: HE CALLED ME PRINCESS? Ashley: HUUUUH? IM GONNA TALK TO CHRIS RIGHT NOW

"Oh, hold on guys." Chris absentmindedly spoke as he closed his microphone. y/n absolutely knew what that would be about.

"Do we wait for him or let the queue going?" Josh almost sounding like he'd peek into her door to ask this.

She thought about about it as on one hand, he could come back super quickly and we'd have found a match, but on the other he could take long and he'd have to reap the consequences of being away. "That's a hard question, I guess the game has been going harder on people who get away from the keyboard in a match. Let's wait for him."

Josh, as if a light bulb came on, put two and two together. "Right, I remember reading that update."

"Mhm." She hummed back, still thinking of their earlier conversation and what Ashley might be doing right now.

Ashley: He'll be you guys' wingman and leave y/n: what? Ashley: I'm making him hop off and sit with me to tell me everything he knows about Josh

y/n jumped at the sound of Josh speaking up, as if he fucking knew what Ashley and herself were up to. "y/n." It's fucking as if he was right behind me as he spoke as soon as i read ashley's message. She thought to herself. Eerie as fuck. y/n: DONT LET HIM LEAVE ME ALONE??? Ashley: oh I heard him call you since Chris put down the headphones Ashley: thisll be interesting y/n: oh my god Ash

"Yes, Josh?" y/n responded, trying her best to separate her current nervousness and his conversation with her.

"Chris told me something a bit back that really had me thinking." He spoke while taking breaths and thinking his words over, which makes his argument more stretched out than it has to be.

y/n responds, waiting for more. "Right..."

Ashley: Im having him explain what Josh is telling you right now y/n: i don't love the fact you guys are talking about us while hearing us Ashley: Im doing it with love I promise y/n: liar ure especially NOSEY Ashley: what can I say? WHAT CAN I SAAAAYYY???

He continued after he trailed off last time. "Yeah, I used to pump him up all the time to speak to Ashley and confess to her, right, and now he's saying I should listen to my own advice." He sounds oddly genuine, something the group doesn't see from the playful flirt.

"Okay?" Still not seeing his point, y/n doesn't comment much.

Josh still puzzled about it, genuinely unsure how to move with his friend's words weighing on his mind "The problem is, I don't get what he means? I go for everything head on. Chris has been busy with Ash and I wanna give them space to adjust, you know."

"You do, but I don't think Chris meant it in that sense. It's sweet you allow them space for them, by the way. Not a lot of people would notice those little things." She spoke up, now mirroring his realness as she realized he was being serious. He seldom opened up about anything at all, and she jumped at the chance to support him.

Ashley: chris says ur right. y/n: what the fuck Ashley: he says he didn't mean it in that sense and josh misunderstood him y/n: omh yall nosey asses i swear Ashley: teehee js ur friendly neighborhood wingman and woman

Josh was kind of taken aback at her comment responding to his question; completely glossing over her compliment. "What?"

y/n explained herself. She placed her hands on her face as she sighed at his emotional immaturity. "Josh, are you inadvertently telling me you like somebody? What you told Chris is really specific to context of love, and if he's telling you the same then you're now in what used to be his boat?" How could somebody be that flirty and that beloved by many girls that he rejects be so oblivious to themselves. Her thoughts were rushing, but she knew she had to focus.

Ashley: HE SO DEFINITELY IS YOU HIT THE NAIL IN THE COFFIN y/n: IS THAT ASH TALKING OR CHRIS CONFIRMING Ashley: oh i told chris to explain later, i wanna hear this. Ashley: update: chris is snickering at joshs stupidity i think he knows that we know that you know ur right y/n: im killing you both istg

Josh sounded a bit over it. "I think I'll call it a night."

"W-What?" y/n stammered in confusion, she was expecting being on for a very long while on this game.

"Chris isn't coming back, if he takes this long then it means goodnight for us all." Josh decided to excuse himself with Chris's impromptu leave.

She didn't know how to explain herself without being vulnerable with him. "Josh-" y/n could see her phone buzz multiple times, but she ignored it to focus on his voice. Her eyes are on the screen, but unfocused.

Josh pushed her away, as he often does with people anyway, keep your friends close from a safe distance. "Forget it."

She blurted out. "No it's fine, I get it."

"What?" Josh's jaw tightened.

"You could be the best person for advice for a certain situation, but literally when it comes to yourself, you are unbeknownst yourself. You helped Chris get her, now it's time somebody helps you. If you try at it without support, you might just lose her." She didn't even know what she was letting slip, but she went with the flow.

Josh groaned. "Goodnight, y/n."

"If that's what you'd like. Goodnight." y/n didn't want to push him, she knew of him well enough that it wasn't safe to temper with him when he declines. He knows himself best, pushing him will make things worse.

Ashley: NOOOO MY RADIO ROMANCE DRAMA y/n: its the fact u listened to all of that Ashley: of course I would what if he confesses to u right then and there y/n: huh Ashley: oh yeah after all of that u think he doesnt like u? y/n: we cant js assume that Ashley: ok im asking chris

As Ashley stopped typing, presumably to speak to Chris, she grabs a box of cookies her mom ordered to her dorm. They travelled without her as per usual, so she's stuck in the university dorms for the break. At least she get free food and free time away from people. A message notification popped up on the top part of her phone and her phone buzzed on the table. It was Josh.

Josh: sorry for cutting you off like that y/n: no harm no foul josh im sorry for pretending like i knew Josh: ironically its the fact you were so correct that made me upset y/n: oh. sorry? Josh: im not here to ask for apologies

She took a bite of the cookie in her hand, and since she was typing with one hand, she was unbearably slow. Fortunately, Josh was also slow in his replies. He was probably thinking through every word sent to her beyond this point. Josh: do u think u could leave ur dorm and we could walk for a bit? i think ill take u up on ur offer to talk things over y/n: sure, its a bit late tho u sure? Josh: yeah ill keep u safe dw, im the one who brought u out anyway. y/n: alr sounds like a plan.

She took out a pair of jeans and a fuzzy jacket. The cold weather of the outdoors was not welcoming of anybody used to the warmth of the indoors. It could be snowing, she thought to grab a few more things that would warm her up including a hot coffee. A 'bzzzzzz' sound filled the room as she changed into the improvised outfit. 'Beeeeeep.' She picked up the drink and took it with her.

Y/n stepped outside and walked out of the dormitory walkway to find Josh sitting in the common room.

He stood up and looked at her. "You ready to go?"

"Yep. Let's go." She nodded and walked right behind him.

He was wearing a flannel with a vest. The flannel was pulled up to his forearms. She spoke up. "You are oddly under dressed for the weather."

His hair was messy, he definitely ran his fingers through it whenever he reached a dead end in his thinking. She could imagine him sighing to himself and playing with it to try to take his mind off of things, messing it up further unintentionally. When she came to, they were now outside on university grounds. The place was gated and open for students during all hours of the day.

Josh looked down at the snowy ground and placed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah I didn't really think it through."

y/n smiled sweetly at him, she knew him to be rash at points where he needed to decide on something. "That's alright, here-"

"Truth is!" Josh perked up, cutting her words like a knife and louder than he initially wanted. Causing her to stare in silence, her eyebrow raised. She'd never be upset at somebody cutting her off once in a while, we all have our moments.

Josh cleared his throat and took a moment before deciding to go through with it. "Truth is, you caught my eye a while back. Chris figured it out first and then he became my confidant in this... weird situation." Y/n's mouth went agape, thinking of saying something, but she closed it to listen to him first.

He continued, still looking away from her. Focusing on his surroundings was his best bet in saying all of this. "He tried his best to convince me, but we were friends for a while, it's best to stay that way. I liked our banter." Telling his therapist his woes was already pushing it enough. This was ten times worse and she could tell.

"You joining us without me knowing you would had me appreciating your presence a lot more." She focused on him, his words, his stature, his walk, and most importantly his mannerisms. She knew he had to let this out it seems evident.

He took a shaky breath and y/n took her scarf off. "It made me need to think. If the people around me knew, then I needed to have a reason for it all."

Once he stopped to breathe, she lent him the scarf. He accepted reluctantly, but appreciated the gesture. He whispered a "thanks" and wrapped it around his neck. He closed his eyes to focus on its pretty scent for a moment. "I started regretting all the times I played with Chris alone. I hated thinking this way because of a lot of things. You getting my situation immediately caused my thoughts to go on overdrive."

She caught him between his breaths, now regulated from the warmth of her scarf. "Josh." y/n stopped in her tracks.

He walked a few steps before realizing she stopped, and turned around to her. "Yeah?"

y/n contemplated her words, but since he already confessed at this point, she had nothing to lose. "The reason how and why I joined you guys tonight was because I wanted to get closer to you. You were special from the moment you entered my life." Once he heard her reciprocation, his eyes focused on her moving lips.

"The amount of times you made me nervous-" Her voice, music to his ears, was stopped by his lips meeting hers. He placed his hands on her cheeks to lift her head slightly up. The cold was quickly replaced by imminent warmth. As much as he wanted to be reckless with her, have sloppier kisses, touch her in places that allow him to explore her curves, he didn't like the idea that they were outside. The kiss was short but desperate, she realized he was waiting for this for a long time.

i wanted to end on part two, but i feel like this def needs a third part. im now going to read this with my word replacer. i love this MAN I NEED HIM NOW. id really appreciate opinions on how the characters were written, i never really wrote fanfiction seriously till now. i usually write original work hidden in my endless google drive lol. thank you for reading!

[ateez-himari]

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[KIM TAEHYUNG WROTE A POST]

KIM TAEHYUNG 11. 29 10:35 It's been a while since we danced together, Mari-Ah ♡ I know I'm seven days late but I can't believe you're 23 now, you used to be so small and cute...well I guess you still are, just a decade older. I remember when you were so shy you hid behind our backs, now you're making choreographies like this ㅎㅎ You've become such an amazing artist and I'm so proud of you, I'll visit you more often I promise (with more gifts) ♡

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KIM TAEHYUNG 11. 29 10:37 Mari used to learn dance from us when she was younger so it was a little strange to exchange roles, but it was amazing to see how confident she's become 🥹 When I came to the KQ building to surprise her, she immediately asked if we could practice together ㅠ.ㅠ Our little tiger is such a hard worker but she plays around a lot too ㅎㅎ

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[..VIEW COMMENTS..]

HIMINNIE 🐯 11. 29 10:43 It was lots of fun to hang out like this after a long time oppa! You've gotten so buff that I barely recognized you at the door ㅋㅋ Thank you for those delicious snacks, we really deserved them after such hard work 🤤 Come by again soon, love you! 🩷

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JK 11. 29 10:45 why wasn't I invited?! Hima said we would do more dance challenges together, traitors ㅠ.ㅠ and you had crepes too ?? we're gonna do a lot more when I get another day off so I don't care 😒

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hobi 11. 29 10:50 maybe our Hima should choreograph my next comeback ㅋㅋ i wonder how many talents she's hiding up her sleeve. i can't believe you're this old already, you lost all that cute baby fat in your cheeks, how am i supposed to pinch you ??

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JIN 11. 29 10:57 Ahh I see so this is the energy of youth...meanwhile your poor old oppa can barely keep up with your new comeback aigoooo

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