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djarrex · 1 month

Text

burning hot

Howzer x f!reader | Fireball x f!reader | Howzer x reader x Fireball

ao3 | masterlist

The senator you work for assigned you to go to the clone base on Teth, where your primary job as a relations specialist has you venturing outside the job description.

It's been a while - but I just couldn't get these two out of my head. spoilers for the bad batch s3e6&7. 18+ only. explicit. oral. piv. a hint of creampie and a sprinkle of light choking. everything is consensual. almost getting caught. getting caught a little. after care and mention of the color system. a little bit of a threesome. I don't ship clones. no love triangle. reader is f! but no physical description is mentioned. It's been a long time since I've had to tag anything so please let me know if I need to add something. not gonna add user tags because I don't know who's out there anymore lol. enjoy the 10.5k words of smut with plot :)

Never would you have thought you’d one day travel to Wild Space, and yet here you are, just having entered the purplish atmosphere of a planet called Teth. You’re not traveling alone, though; you’re surrounded by a couple security guards of the senator you all work for, along with a few clones, although these particular clones are not soldiers of the Empire; they’re fighting back just as your Senator is, among a few others who remain in office. Your job is one that your Senator has entrusted to you when this all began, which is to facilitate communications and gather information for your office. Essentially, you speak with the clones about their experiences with the Empire, and see if there’s anything there that would help their case in the Senate, and eventually, to hopefully cast a light on the Empire’s crimes.

“We’re almost to the landing zone,” the pilot, a clone named Gregor, calls. Through the transparisteel you see the abandoned Monastery come into view, sitting atop a steep, mountainous pillar. Apparently, this is where the clones have set up their operations – their base. You figure it’s a good location because of how remote it is, being way out in Wild Space where the Empire’s shadow does not reach.

As the doors open and the ramp lowers, you see the several men who have been awaiting your arrival at the landing zone. Most of them, the ones who surround the pathway with their blasters held at ease, are in their helmets – but there are two clones in front of you without their helmets, one you quickly recognize as the Captain Rex.

You blink.

You know the other helmetless man, his hairstyle exactly the same as it was the day he was rescued, though now he’s in a full kit of armor, strapped with weapons. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of him. He looks good, you note. Healthier than the day you met him, and judging by the operation they have going on here, he’s been keeping busy.

Debarking the ship, you follow closely behind your security. You try not to linger too long on the giddiness you feel of seeing him again, but as you’re walking by, you see his eyes briefly widen with the realization of who you are.

He remembers you.

You first met Captain Howzer several months back, on the day he was rescued. Tagging along with your boss and security, you finally were able to meet the men who were the talk amongst the office: The rogue clones who were fighting back against the Empire. The garage in the lower levels of Coruscant was filled with these clones, some who were recently rescued and the ones who’d already been in the fight. On the day you met Howzer, you were getting to know the men who’d just been rescued that very day–him being one of them–by hearing their stories and gathering as much information as you could for your office, jotting down anything of note that could help the clones’ case in the Senate.

When you spoke with their captain, Howzer, you could tell he was angry – resentful. He told you all about how he’d been arrested back on Ryloth for merely opposing an order that was just plain wrong. Dissidence. He’d been arrested with several of his men who’d laid down their arms in solidarity, only to have been rescued with a saddening two who’d survived the year-long imprisonment.

The two of you spoke for what felt like hours – long after the garage had cleared out of visitors and others had fallen asleep. You weren’t sure what it was – but you were feeling a pull – one that brought you closer and closer to him until the both of you felt the unspoken. He was flashing you a look – and that’s what did you in.

Howzer fucked you in a supply closet that evening.

It was quick and desperate. Howzer had you pinned to the back wall of that supply closet just moments after he'd followed your invitation inside. As you quickly worked your bottoms off, Howzer's desperation was blatant, his cock straining against those tight gray pants he'd been wearing since the rescue. His hands were quick and his movements were sloppy yet he still was able to expertly find every little thing that got you off. At one point, Howzer had you bent over the counter of a shelving unit, roughly pounding you from behind with his hand pressed against your mouth. His normally perfectly styled hair was falling out of place, strands hanging down his sweat-slicked forehead. He had you seeing stars quicker than you’d anticipated, and when he was nearly at his own climax, he pulled out of you and finished off into the palm of his hand, punctuating the moment with a slap to your ass and a soft, breathy kiss to your temple that juxtaposed it all.

You’ve been working alongside clones for over a year now–since your boss had decided to covertly join the fight–and you’ve gotten to meet many of these familiar yet unique faces. It’s never been the way it was with Captain Howzer, though – not that you’re looking for that. However, since meeting him that evening, you always had the teeniest of hopes that you’d see him around again.

And now, several months later, you’ve run into him here on Teth.

You try to hide your growing smile by pressing your lips together and looking down at your feet as you walk. His boots fall in line behind you, and not even several steps later, he clears his throat.

“Remember me?”

His voice comes from behind you, gruff and playful at the same time, loud enough for only you to hear. You turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him from where he’s following behind you, his lips quirked at the corners.

You keep your voice low, glancing behind you as you walk. “Captain Howzer,” you greet simply.

He hums.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without the Imperial prison uniform,” you add.

Howzer lets out a wry laugh. “Felt real good to finally get out of those grays,” he tells you. “Felt even better to get back into my armor again.”

The group pauses, the leaders awaiting the doors to open.

“Glad to see you’re doing better,” you add, turning to face him fully. “This is quite the operation you guys have going on here.”

You swear you see Howzer briefly check you out, subtly eyeing you from head to toe. He grins. “So, what brings you here?”

“A job for the Senator. Apparently I’m good at getting you clones to share your stories and experiences.”

It’s the truth–that’s why you were assigned here for a while–but you’re also laying down little hints, something you know isn’t very professional of you but Howzer’s already reeled in.

He laughs at that, picking it up quickly. “I’ll say. I’d be happy to share even more with you.”

Barely minutes into a conversation with him and you’re already getting worked up, heat building in your lower stomach. “And I’d be happy to listen, Captain. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”

Howzer pitches his voice even lower. “How long will you be here for? You know, to listen?”

“Oh, that depends on how much you lot have to share.”

The same look appears in his eyes from your interaction all those months ago – the look that led the two of you into that supply closet. Even as the group continues inside, you can still feel his eyes on you.

“Once you’re settled, ma’am,” he says just a little louder, playing the part, “I’d be happy to brush you up on our progress here. For the Senator, that is.”

You once again fight to hide your knowing smile. “I’d be happy to listen, Captain Howzer. I’ll find you once I’ve settled in?”

He exhales deeply, a sly grin on his lips. “How about I give you a tour of the place first?”

Impatient.

But, honestly, so are you.

You look to your security and they nod in unison, and they step off to the side with a group of clones who are huddled over by the scanners.

You follow Howzer all the way to a seemingly unused doorway. He pushes it with some force to get it to budge, opening it up to the stairwell spiraling against the inner walls of the spire. The only lighting within the stairwell comes from the torch he just clicked on, and he takes your hand, guiding you down the spiraling steps until reaching the next platform. He sets the torch down and holds your shoulders, and you pull yourself closer to him.

“You know what’s been on my mind since seeing you come off the ship?” Howzer slips his hands under your shirt, teasing his way up to your chest. You gasp at his touches, legs already feeling like jelly.

“Tell me.”

He leans in. “How good you felt wrapped around my cock.”

You can tell just how wet you are already, and after waiting so many months to see him again, you’re growing impatient.

“I’m having a hard time remembering that,” you tease. “Maybe you could jog my memory?”

Even in the dim light you are able to see just how dark Howzer’s eyes get, the shadows of his face deepening with the expression of lust etching in his handsome features.

“Get your clothes off. Now.”

You start with your bottoms, pulling them off leaving yourself completely bare and exposed to the chilled air of the stairwell. Howzer doesn't take the time to remove all of his armor, only focusing on the parts that would get in the way. Before you can remove your shirt, Howzer stops you, his cock already hardened and in his hand.

“That’s good for now,” he orders breathily. Back against the stone wall, you bend your leg at the knee and Howzer takes it to hold against his armored hip as he guides his cock between your legs.

“You’re so wet,” he comments in a voice far too deep. He nudges into you, and the feeling was an incredibly missed one. “Gonna take me so well, baby. Just like you did before.”

“Howzer…”

“Hang on to me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and Howzer hoists you up, effectively impaling you on his cock in the process. You cry out, the sound echoing throughout the stairwell.

“Gotta be a little quieter than that,” he chuckles confidently. “I haven’t even moved yet, pretty girl.” He kisses you then, his lips too soft for what you know is to come. “Promise me you’ll stay quiet. Can’t have anyone hear us down here.”

“Promise.”

With your back pressed against the wall and your entire lower half suspended in air by Howzer’s strong grip, you press your lips tightly together, and nod to give him the go ahead.

Howzer adjusts his grip and starts to move. He snaps his hips roughly, creating repetitive echoes of the sounds throughout the stairwell. Armor on skin. It’s only slightly uncomfortable, but you’re too lost in the feeling of him fucking you again to care about anything else. Your head falls back against the stone wall but Howzer won’t have that.

Between heavy breaths, he brings you back. “Eyes on me.”

When you meet his eyes again, you start to crumble. Even in this state they’re still such a soft, inviting brown, and you practically allow yourself to drown in them as you both near the finish. He sets you down on shaky legs, and turns you around. You present your ass to him, arching your back the way you know he likes. Howzer chuckles at that and quickly lines himself up to enter you again.

“Gonna paint this pretty ass,” he promises through gritted teeth.

The change of angle sends you into a frenzy, only this time, you’re able to cover your mouth.

The way Howzer fucks you is so needy and frantic, everything that was pent-up driving the way he snaps his hips and grips your skin. You can feel him everywhere – consuming you. Your body starts to shake when your orgasm hits and Howzer can feel it – it affects the speed of his movements with how tight you start to clench around him.

“Fuck – that’s it – so tight.” He groans – a syrupy rumble in his throat. “Feels even better than I remember. Shit.”

You quiver as Howzer yanks his cock from you. The feeling of the loss is soon replaced by the feeling of his cum spurting onto your skin, the sensation making you moan. You must look like quite a sight, because he keeps humming and groaning quietly as he continues to fist his cock, milking every last drop onto your skin.

Howzer pulls a small cloth from one of his pouches and wipes you off with it, helping you stand upright on your shaky legs. He starts to reattach his kit to his armor as you pull your bottoms back on, doing your best to fix yourself up without a mirror.

“Now that we got that out of the way…” The both of you laugh before you continue, “Wanna actually share with me some useful information that I can relay to my boss?”

Howzer wipes his forehead – combs his fingers through his hair. “That I can do.”

It’s been a few weeks since you got to the base, and you’ve been welcomed by all as if you were one of them.

You’re all on the same side here.

You even have your own room, a place to retreat to when you need some privacy, and the men set up sleeping arrangements in there for you as well. You contact your office once a rotation to keep them up to date, though there hasn’t been much to tell as of yet. What you do know is that the clones are planning something big, a mission to help free more of their brothers, and you suppose you’re going to be here until that becomes more defined. Your security–well, they’re the Senator’s security–left after the first day because they were really only there to protect you, a member of the Senator’s staff, while traveling to Teth. After they did their job, they left, leaving you to do your job in peace.

Since your first day, you’ve gotten to know quite a few of the men who are stationed here, and you’ve been able to speak to the leadership as well as the ones who normally stay back while a certain few others come and go, whether it be with the leaders or on their own respective missions. Captain Howzer is one of the men who come and go, mostly staying at the side of Rex, the clone captain who was the original contact of your boss, the reason why you got into this job in the first place.

You stay inside of the Monastery, not being a huge fan of the climate outside the stone walls. What you do enjoy is stepping outside to see the sunset and watching how the two moons rise into the mauve sky, when the humidity isn’t at its peak. Otherwise, you’d never venture out into the tangly jungle, or dare to climb the rocky terrain by yourself.

When Captain Howzer is around, though – you end up wandering off to places you normally would never go on your own. He keeps you busy, even when you both have some downtime from your duties.

Your secret encounters started off with him simply sneaking into your room at a time when nobody would ask questions. Then, it became him guiding you to remote locations within the base grounds, like the leech vessel that remains safely docked halfway down the spire, or even the transport ship that’s been under maintenance. You’ve even found yourselves behind closed doors in the communications room in the dead of night, riding his lap in one of the chairs. It’s always been quick sex so as to not get caught, but there’s a connection there that has you both feeling its pull. He always finds you before leaving for a mission, and never fails to pay you a visit once he’s back and debriefed. Hells, Howzer even kisses you like he misses you, but it’s just physical, and has to stay that way.

Currently, Captain Howzer and several others are away – gone for the past few rotations. To be completely honest, without him as an obvious distraction, you’ve been able to really focus on your job.

You’ve just gotten off a call with your office and are finishing typing out notes into your datapad, when Fireball, one of the clones who was rescued from an Imperial prison transport nearly a year ago, calls out to you from the kitchen.

“Chow time!”

A man who has quickly become one of your favorites, Fireball has long been the elected sous-chef around here, gladly taking up the responsibility of feeding his brothers when Captain Gregor is away. He’s cooked for you every day since you got here, making the dishes just as spicy and flavorful as you like. Not only have the two of you bonded over the food, you’re sometimes the only two inside of the main area of the base while everyone is either keeping up with their own duties around base or off-world on a mission. In those moments, Fireball has been able to really dig deep into his past experiences with you, sharing some of the more painful details that he’d otherwise keep buried and repressed. It isn’t always gloomy conversation, though; he is quite funny and keeps you entertained with cheerful anecdotes from his days as a soldier of the Republic. You’ve truly started to look forward to eating and chatting with Fireball.

With a smile, you set down your datapad and head to the kitchen, where Fireball starts to shovel out stew from a pot into a bowl for you.

“Smells delicious,” you tell him appreciatively, taking the warm bowl from him. “Thank you, Fireball.”

“You’re very welcome.” He returns your smile, offering you a seat at the table. “I think I’m getting the hang of this cooking thing. Gregor taught me some of his recipes and I’ve enjoyed making them my own.” He sits down beside you at the table, watching you take your first bite with his brows raised. “This is my take on tiingilar – added my own modifications. What do you think?”

The warm colors of the vegetables and the spicy scent of the steam rising from the surface really add to the flavor of the bite, all of it coming together and melting right into your mouth.

“Wow – this is good. You really know how to win over a woman’s heart, Fireball.”

You could swear you see his cheeks darken with a blush, his eyes casting downward as he takes a few bites of his own. “It’s the Captain who’s won you over, from what I’ve been hearing,” he then adds with a chuckle. “Howzer’s been asking about you every time he makes contact. I should know – I mostly man comms around here.”

It’s your turn to blush, your cheeks heating with the comment. “I-It’s not like that,” you stammer awkwardly, failing to defend yourself. “I’ve been helping h– talking him through some things.” Fireball looks amused, still slurping on his stew and watching you trip over your words. “I– we– I mean not we, but– ”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he interrupts, waving you off. “I haven't spoken a word to anyone about your relationship with the Captain.”

You freeze.

“...Relationship?”

Fireball leans close, pitching his voice low. “I know about you two.” Your heart nearly drops, but he’s quick to offer you relief. “Howzer told me. He wanted to make sure that if anyone found out, I’d catch the chatter first on comms. I know it probably wouldn't be very beneficial for your office to find out.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” You wipe the embarrassment from your face. “How long have you known?” Taking a heaping bite, you purposefully avoid his eyes.

“Well, I've known ever since I sort of walked in on the two of you last week.”

You almost choke on the bite. “What?”

“In the comms room,” he quickly adds. “I’m normally up to check the channels every hour. I could hear the two of you behind the closed door, thankfully, before I could open it.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he chuckles. “I’m just glad Howzer’s in a better mood overall. Now I can figure that’s because of you.”

You blink at him. Something sits wrong in your gut, and it’s not the stew. The last thing you want is for the guys here to think of you as a piece of meat – someone who is only here to offer them relief in a physical way. If word got out about what you and Captain Howzer have been getting up to, not only would that tarnish the view of you in the clones’ eyes, but would cost you your job for sure.

“Hey, I was sent here to help all of you – to offer an ear for your experiences but while also taking down anything of note to help the cause for not just my people but yours as well.” You sit up straighter, setting the spoon down. “We are all on the same side here, but I’m not just– not just a booty call.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry,” Fireball amends, his hand coming to rest over your own. “I know why you’re here. You helped me on the day I was rescued, too.” He smiles. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for me on my first day of freedom, how you showed compassion and empathy towards what I’d gone through with the Empire.”

You soften then, offering an apologetic smile. You remember Fireball, meeting him in the same garage in the lower levels of Coruscant only a few months prior to Howzer’s rescue. “I’m glad I was able to help.”

A silent minute goes by then, the two of you finishing up your stew. When you take the last bite, he collects your empty bowl, making the short walk to the kitchen and setting them in a pile to be cleaned later.

“You being present, eating with me says more than you know,” Fireball adds after taking his seat beside you once again. “Normally I’m by myself in here when the leadership is away, back and forth between keeping the others fed and monitoring communications.”

You nod along with his words, unable to hide your growing smile stemming from your heated cheeks. Fireball continues and you listen.

“It’s just nice to have somebody to talk to, somebody different.” He rubs at the back of his neck, flashing you a bashful grin. “It doesn't hurt that you’re beautiful, too. I understand why Howzer’s so taken with you.”

Something clicks then.

You’ve developed a crush on Fireball.

It makes sense – him being someone who’s always there, someone who you’re always looking forward to chatting with. Of course he’s attractive, but it’s not just the exterior you admire about him; you truly appreciate who he is as a person – the decisions he made leading up to his turn against the Empire. Sacrifice. Heart. He’s brave and resilient. Maybe you’re just being silly, but you think he feels some type of way about you as well.

You and Howzer aren’t a thing. It’s okay to feel something for somebody else.

“I have to confess something,” you say to him, locking eyes with his curious ones, rounding as you begin to speak. “The guys here are so lucky to have you on their side. You’re a real catch – and honestly, any woman would be lucky to have you, too.”

The mood suddenly changes – the air charged. You want him, you decide. You briefly reason with yourself that this would not go against what you were saying before, about how you don’t want to sully the guys’ opinions of you by offering yourself up like this. This – this is different. You feel a connection with Fireball, one that’s full of tension that’s ready to snap at any moment. It’s too strong to turn your head away from, and you’re well aware the man sitting beside you feels the very same.

“Oh yeah?” Fireball bites his lip – runs his fingers through his hair. His voice lowers, gruffer and thick. The sound of it goes through your core. “Any woman?”

You take a beat, your heart thumping in your chest. He’s gotten closer – subtly leaning toward you. His hand slowly comes up, fingers gently pinching your chin.

“Say it, beautiful.”

You know he can do more than just cook and make you laugh – a man who is competent with more than just incendiary weapons. He’s been holding something back for a long time, you just know it.

“I want you,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

And you want him to let loose.

“Stand up.”

Even though his voice came out just as quiet as yours, his tone was firm and certain, nothing to defy. You’re quick to stand, and in seconds Fireball is standing as well, his hands grasping your upper arms. You blink at him, awaiting for what should come next. You sense that he’s going to be the one calling the shots here – guiding you exactly where he wants you to go. He may not be part of the leadership around here but he sure as hell is in charge at this very moment. His eyes are deep in thought, that much you can tell. You figure he’s trying to decide on where to start, and the anticipation is making you clench around nothing.

Finally, his eyes make a decision, his hands offering your arms a gentle squeeze.

“Turn around.”

You oblige, awaiting further guidance.

“I also have something to confess,” Fireball says, his lips just behind your ear. You hold your breath as his hands travel all over your body, his touches featherlight and teasing. “I’ve wanted you for a while. Ever since you got here, maybe even before, when I’d heard you’d be joining us for a while.”

“Oh yeah?”

He bends you over the table in one motion, and pulls your bottoms down to your knees in the next. You swallow thickly as his discarded gloves plop beside you on the tabletop. Breathlessly glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of him slowly crouching down, his face just inches away from your bare skin.

“Yeah. And when I heard you and the Captain in the comms room last week, I had to find someplace quick to work one out. Couldn’t get the sounds you were making out of my head.”

Fireball caresses your skin, his fingers coming close to your folds. Knowing he’s that close to touching you where you want makes you clench, a sight that he appreciates.

“Has… Howzer ever tasted you before?”

The question alone makes you whimper.

“N–no. Not yet.”

He only hums at that.

“Fireball – touch me, please.”

He continues to tease you, fingers gently prodding through your folds. The soft squelching sound of your arousal heats your face. Growing impatient and desperate for something more, you wiggle your hips, hoping to hint at him to stop teasing and get to it.

“You said to touch you, beautiful, and I am touching you. If you’re wanting something else, I need to hear you ask nicely.”

You could almost roll your eyes at that, but you’re far too worked up to be a brat. You know from experience that certain behaviors, though they can be fun, won’t get you very far.

“Please put your mouth on me. I want to feel your mouth on me, please.”

His response to you is a throaty chuckle, soon followed by exactly what you asked for. When he finally puts his mouth on you, you nearly cry out in relief.

He starts slow – still teasing while giving you the bare minimum. His lips plant little kisses to the backs of your thighs and all over your folds, his hands holding your hips steady. You’re so worked up that even the small amount he’s granting you is almost enough, but knowing what’s still to come, your body aches for more.

“Fireball, please, more.”

“I appreciate the manners.” You feel him chuckle again behind you, the vibrations even more teasing. Finally, you feel his tongue poke out between his lips, prodding through your folds.

You slam your hand against the tabletop. “Oh, fuck.”

He hums in satisfaction, quickly losing himself in your taste. Fireball practically latches his mouth to your pussy, his tongue vigorously working its way through and between your folds. The suction of your clit caught in his lips nearly ends you right then and there, but sensing that you’re incredibly close, he removes his mouth from you and instead stands. Disappointed, you turn your head to face him, catching sight of him wiping his mouth and removing the guard on his armor.

“I need to know what you feel like wrapped around me, beautiful.”

Seemingly awaiting your approval, Fireball runs his fingers through his hair, holding his hardened cock in his other hand. You gulp at the size of him, flushed and leaking. You haven't even touched him and he looks like he’s about to bust, his own arousal coming from just the taste of you.

“Fuck me, then.”

He hums.

You feel the head of his cock slide through the mess he made between your legs, and as he pushes himself in the slightest, you can’t help the shudder that rips through your body. He’s big, and even though you’re more than wet enough to take him, you’re clenching too much in anticipation.

He laughs at that – soft and sweet yet full of cockiness.

“Easy, darling. Barely even inside of you yet.” Fireball groans, the sound of it sending even more heat to your core. “Take a deep breath for me.”

You do, and he feeds his cock into you in that very breath.

“I won’t last very long,” he tells you once his armored hips are flush with your rear. “You feel too incredible.”

He starts to thrust then, slowly at first and even at the current pace you’re losing your mind. He’s so deep inside of you that you can feel him in your stomach. You don’t realize just how silent you’ve been through it all–too focused on holding your breath and keeping the noise to a minimum–until Fireball comments on it, briefly pausing and checking in to make sure you’re okay.

“‘M fine,” you assure him. Your hand finds his own from where it's grabbing your hip – extra reassurance. “Faster. Go faster. Please.”

You’re guided into a standing position, your back meeting the cool, hard armor covering his body. Fireball’s hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing with too much pressure but it's very much there. His other hand finds its way between your legs, rubbing at your clit to match his increasing speed. It isn’t long until you’re crying out in ecstasy into the palm of your head, tears brimming in your eyes at the intensity of it all. When you climax, Fireball feels it for sure, his own cresting at breakneck speed.

“Where do you want me,” he breathily gasps into your ear, still rubbing your clit into overstimulation. You don’t have it in you to care though, legs wavering from your ongoing climax.

“Inside,” you whimper. “I have the implant.”

“Fuck, okay.”

Fireball cums inside of you – and the feeling is indescribable.

Never before have you been with a partner who felt like this during an orgasm. He makes the most sinful of noises as his cock swells deep inside of you, his body shaking against yours. He pants into your ear while your entire cunt heats with his amount of release, enough of it to seep out even with his cock still fully inside of you, feeling it trickle down your thighs.

Fireball bends you down against the table once again when he pulls out, a gush of warmth following. Crouched down to watch his handiwork, he swipes his fingers through some of the mess along your inner thighs, bringing it back to where it belongs.

“Messy girl. Took me so well.” He stands, guiding you back to your feet, “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

“Anybody could have walked in on us,” you laugh breathlessly, that very realization making you quick in redressing, not caring about the mess still dribbling down your thighs and now soaking your underwear.

Tucking himself back into his undersuit and reattaching his guard piece, Fireball blinks dreamily at you. You’re pulled in by the look in his eyes, full of satisfaction and adoration. Your lips meet then, a passionate kiss that punctuates the moment perfectly.

“I should get to the comms,” he tells you almost apologetically. You nod in understanding, meeting his lips for another kiss. “See you around?”

“Of course,” you reply. “Looking forward to our next meal and conversation.”

The unspoken third activity hangs in the air, Fireball grinning knowingly at the implication.

It wasn’t even an hour later when some of the others came back to base after being away for a few rotations. You heard the team return, conversations loud enough to sound as if they were occurring just outside your room. Something about running into another shadow – those assassins you’ve been briefed on. Figuring this is a conversation you should be apart of, you gather your datapad and go to head out the door.

Right as you’re opening the door, Howzer is there.

“Welcome back,” you tell him with a hint of surprise in your voice, not at all expecting him to be right there. “I was just coming out to see what was going on.”

“We’ll debrief you later. Rex and Gregor have other business to attend to at the moment.”

You set down your datapad. “Oh, okay. Well, if you’re hungry, there’s a huge pot of tiingilar on the stove that was made about an hour ago. Should still be pretty warm–”

Howzer interrupts you when his lips passionately meet yours.

“There’s only one thing I’m hungry for,” he mumbles against your lips, quickly shutting the door behind him. “And she’s standing right here in front of me.”

You giggle at that, once again being swept off your feet when Howzer’s lips reconnect with yours. It happens so fast – his hands roaming your body. Too lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours and his tongue tasting your lips you don’t realize one of his hands has already lost a glove and found its way into your pants until you jolt from the sensation. Your reaction makes Howzer pause, a curious brow raised.

You never cleaned yourself up from earlier. A request to make contact with your office had come in immediately following what took place in the kitchen, and you were so consumed with work that you completely forgot to take care of yourself.

And Howzer noticed.

“What’s the matter? A little sensitive down there, baby?”

You only manage a nod, bashfully smiling through it against his lips. Howzer continues, only now his fingers move your soaked panties to the side. He pauses again, this time pulling his face from yours.

“Oh?” He hums playfully, narrowing his eyes yet still keeping his cocky smirk. “You're a mess.”

His fingers slip inside you with ease, and his eyes widen. You choke on a gasp when his fingers pull from you, his hand raising up between your faces for you both to see. Coated on his digits is the creamy film of a mixture of releases, and some of it still dripping from your pussy from what happened between you and Fireball.

“Now who did this?”

Howzer once again lowers his hand and slips his fingers inside of you, pulling them out only to swipe at your sensitive clit. The motions make your body jolt again, and he takes notice, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

“Here I was thinking you took care of yourself because you’re just so needy.” He shakes his head, his tongue coming to wet his lips. “Now I see I’m not the only one you’re fucking around here.”

Howzer wipes his hand onto his glove, his eyes never leaving yours. Guilt and shame immediately flood your entire body – but you’re unsure why. You and Howzer aren’t a thing – nothing official. So why does he sound so–not angry, not upset–disappointed?

He tilts his head, a cocky look once again appearing on his face as he watches you.

“Hey, it's okay,” he tells you genuinely, reaching for your arms and pulling you towards him. He guides you toward a wall, your back firmly pressed against it. “I don't mind sharing. Why don't you tell me who it was, baby? Tell me who beat me into cumming in this perfect pussy while I was away.”

Crouching down, Howzer guides your bottoms off, pulling them from your feet and tossing it all to the side. He watches how you squirm under his gaze, his eyes taking note of every detail from the encounter you had.

“Couldn't have been Gregor,” he comments absently, swiping his fingers through your mess. He plants a kiss to an unsullied part of your inner thigh. “Couldn't have been Rex, either.”

The very names of both captains being used in this context makes you shiver, the thought of either of them touching you in such a way heating you up inside. They’re both incredibly competent – strong – skilled. You’re sure they’d completely and utterly ruin you for anybody else.

Howzer chuckles at your reaction and stands up, his hand still toying with you. “It wasn't them but I can tell you wouldn't mind that, hm? Such a filthy, needy girl. You'd take all of us at one time if that were possible, wouldn't you?”

The thought truly never crossed your mind until now – something to revisit later. You’re getting yourself into trouble – the best kind. You’re afraid of getting addicted to the feeling of these men touching you, first Howzer and then Fireball. They may be clones, but from what you can tell so far, they do things in their own, unique ways. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t at all curious about how the others would handle you – if they’d take you roughly, tenderly – if they’d use their mouth on you or speak filth into your ear.

Your own fantasies scare you – threatening to make you lose sight of who you are and why you’re here. The most debauched of images flash into your mind – a scene of multiple men of this base taking turns using you in any way they desire.

Fingers slowly thrusting into you as he awaits your response, you gasp out a shaky “Yes”, making Howzer bite his lip.

He peers at you with darkened eyes. “We can discuss that later.”

But he's not finished questioning you yet.

“Was it Greer? Samson?” Howzer’s hand quickens, fingers plummeting harder into you. He curls them, too – massages the spot that makes your brain fuzzy. Lips brushing against your jaw, he continues to rattle off a few more familiar names, but you shake your head at each of them.

“Nemec?”

No.

“Fireball?”

When you finally hear his name, you can't help but gasp. Howzer catches on, humming thickly at your wordless confession.

��Ah, I see. I'm sure he was good to you, baby, so why are you this needy and wanting more?”

Howzer removes his hand then, instead heading over toward the door, leaving you pantsless and unfulfilled.

“Howzer, please.”

Hand reaching for the door controls, he turns his head over his shoulder. “Why don't I call Fireball in here so he can properly take care of you, hm? Seems you were left unsatisfied.”

When you don't respond right away, Howzer approaches you, his face serious and concerned. He takes your hand. “If this is too much, please let me know. It's all just talk if that's what you're comfortable with. We don't need to take it further.”

“I appreciate your caution. I really do – but I'm fine with it, Howzer.”

“You're sure?”

“I– I like that idea,” you admit quietly.

Howzer raises an intrigued brow.

You feed into it then, reiterating the foundation of all this talk.

“I let Fireball cum inside of me.”

“I know, baby. Want to tell me what else he did?”

“He ate me out from behind and fucked me against the kitchen table.”

Howzer’s eyes widen at your confession but narrow just as quickly, seemingly disapproving of the carelessness you displayed. Every encounter you had with Howzer so far has been off the beaten path, definitely not in a common area in the middle of the day no less.

He shakes his head.

“Anybody could have walked in on you two.”

It was risky – but exciting.

You bite your lip at the memory.

“I know.”

“When was this?”

“About an hour ago.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Howzer puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side in thought. He watches you intently with his lips twisted. “Hm. Clean yourself up, then take off your clothes and get on the bed. I'll be back soon, okay?”

You nod, Howzer kissing you before throwing out one last command: “And don’t touch yourself.”

Body shaking and your heart pounding with anticipation, you quickly clean yourself up with a damp rag and shed the rest of your clothing before getting into your bed, just as you were instructed. Implications of Howzer’s final comments to you has you spiraling, different scenarios coming to the forefront of your mind. He’s going to get Fireball, you know it. He’s going to bring him right here to you, and the two of them will take turns with you – or, maybe, they’ll use you at the same time.

Your pussy flutters at that idea.

You try your hardest to present yourself in the best way for their return, propping yourself up against your pillows and wrapping the blanket around parts of you that they would have to remove themselves to expose you. It’s a lengthy twenty or so minutes until Howzer returns, but just as you thought, Fireball’s right at his side.

“Hello, boys,” you say in the sweetest voice you can muster, despite the small amount of disappointment for the wait. Their eyes flash the very same dark shade of desire, pooling deep in those soft brown eyes they share.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, darling. I made sure no one would be around. Had to make up an excuse to borrow Fireball for the evening.”

“You didn’t touch yourself while you were waiting, did you, beautiful?”

Your eyes flicker to Fireball, shaking your head no.

“Good girl. Following orders so well already.”

Howzer agrees and starts to undo his holders and the rest of his armor, Fireball wordlessly following the other in preparation. Neither of them take their eyes off of you for too long, staring at you as if they mean to devour you completely.

And you think they just might.

Dressed only in their undersuits now, Howzer doesn’t break eye contact with you as he addresses the other, gesturing to you with a jolt of his chin.

“Fireball, she told me what you did out in the kitchen, where anybody could have walked right in,” he begins, that same firm, disapproving tone present in his voice as it was with you. “Now, I want you to show me exactly what you did to make our girl so damn messy.”

Our girl.

You could get used to this.

“Of course.” Fireball grins. “I’d be happy to.”

You bite your lip at Fireball as he approaches, but you glance quickly to Howzer, who has decided to sit this one out in the chair against the wall.

His eyes don’t leave you, though. He’s going to watch.

“A proper bed,” Fireball comments, caressing your cheek in the palm of his hand. He rips the blanket from your body and leans toward your ear, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “I can’t wait to break you apart. I’m going to ruin you, beautiful.”

Your heart skips a beat, then Howzer speaks up in the background almost knowingly. “We all know the color system, correct?”

Not looking towards the man in the chair, you nod, Fireball nodding along with you.

“Good.”

With that, Howzer leans back, legs spread. You can already see the outline of his cock straining in his skin-tight pants.

He wants a show, and you’re going to give him one.

That is, if Fireball doesn’t destroy you first.

“I can’t believe how messy you were,” Fireball comments in disbelief as his hand slips between your legs. “Kept me inside of you that whole time, even let Howzer finger you like that.” He continues stroking you, paying extra attention to your clit. “Spread your legs this way,” he directs, angling your body so you’re exposed to Howzer. Fireball teases you in the same fashion as he did just a little while earlier, planting kisses all over your thighs and folds until you’re begging him for more. Howzer, meanwhile, has started to palm himself over his clothes, watching with his lips parted.

The extra pair of eyes on you turns you on even more.

“Fireball, use your tongue like you did before.”

He smacks his lips, squeezing your thigh in warning. “Now, now, where are the manners you were using so politely before?”

You’re not in charge here. You never were.

“...Please.”

Satisfied, Fireball grins. “Good girl.”

He attacks your pussy with his tongue, only this time, he’s sloppier. Maybe it’s the change of angle, or maybe it’s the audience, but he’s using his tongue in a way that has your head spinning and hips bucking. Fireball seems to be spurred on by this, doubling his efforts and even using an arm to keep you pressed into the bed. He switches to suck vigorously at your clit before lapping at you and it’s already far too much. Your body is desperate for release.

“I’m– I'm going to cum. Please let me cum. Please.”

He pulls his mouth from you, his lips smacking against your wet folds from a sloppy kiss. Wiping his mouth, he flashes you a devilish grin.

“Not yet. You’re going to cum on my cock, just like before.”

Defeated, you flop your head back onto the bed, your climax receding. You know that the disappointment won’t last for long, though.

Fireball stands, kicking his bottoms all the way off and peeling his shirt off over his head. You’re granted a perfect view of his entire body, the muscles and hair and soft patches making your head spin. You even discover he has a tattoo – a rather large piece that starts from his hip and travels up his side, the shape of flames twisting around to his pectoral.

You go to adjust, to change position, but Fireball stops you. “No, no. You lay just like that,” he tells you, guiding you back to where you were. “Hold your knees up for me. Good girl – just like that.”

Still laying on your back, both men have a perfect view of your pussy, clenching with need before their eyes.

Fireball leans down to your ear again, his cock hot and dragging heavy against your stomach. He’s so incredibly warm. “We’re going to give him a show. When I cum, I’m going to fill you, and you’re going to take it all like the good girl you are.”

You gasp at his filthy words of promise, but Fireball isn’t pleased with your lack of verbal response. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, not hard, but definitely firm enough to get your attention. “You tell me if I’m going too rough,” he asks you sincerely. “I’m having fun with you, but stop me if it’s going over the line.” You nod weakly, desperate to feel him between your legs once again. He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I need you to say it.”

“I’ll let you know,” you promise. “I’m green, Fireball.”

“Good.”

With that, he stands back up at the edge of the bed, scooping his hands under your rear and dragging you up above the edge. Your hands grab at your knees as instructed.

“Deep breath,” he commands, turning his head over his shoulder at Howzer, almost as if he’s giving him a pointer – a jab about his size.

Your lower half hovering over the bed, you take that deep breath, already knowing what’s to come. Fireball impales you on his cock, sinking even deeper than before without the armor as a hindrance. Every part of his hips and groin make contact with your skin this time, including the maintained curls at the base of his cock. He holds there for a few moments, taking deep breaths, almost as if he’s composing himself.

You once again glance at Howzer, his cock outside of his waistband now and being fisted by his hand.

You could gush from the sight alone.

“I’m green,” you remind Fireball.

Sweat already starts to bead at his hairline, strands of hair falling out of place. He looks wrecked already and he hasn’t even begun moving yet.

“You feel incredible like this,” he sighs in admiration. “I should just have you sit on my cock while I’m manning comms. Keep it warm for hours until you’re shaking.”

“Fuck, Fireball–”

“Yeah, would you like that, beautiful? To be my pretty little cockwarmer?”

“For fucks sake, enough,” Howzer growls out from behind him. “Just fuck her already, or step aside.”

You almost laugh at how Howzer’s impatience is somehow shorter than your own, but Fireball isn’t having it. He goes from zero to ten in seconds, pulling his cock all the way out before slamming back in. Your entire body jolts from each thrust, breaths being punched out of your lungs almost uncomfortably. The feeling of his cock knocking into the back wall of your cunt is all you can focus on, and as Fireball becomes more intense, he stalks talking.

“Tell him, beautiful,” he begins, his skin slick with sweat and lips parted. “Tell him who the first one was to cum inside this pussy. Tell him who claimed you there first.”

You hear Howzer groan from behind him, and it spurs you on. You did want to give him a show, after all.

“You did, Fireball,” you choke out. “You did.”

“Damn right,” he continues, more hair falling out of place. “And I’m going to do it again, but you’re going to cum with me. You cum when I say and only when I say. Understood?”

“...Yes, sir.”

Your ranking comment seems to be one that does Howzer in, because you can hear the telltale sounds of the Captain cumming into his own hand. Fireball though, he takes your comment and runs with it, twisting his face into determination. The muscles of his abdomen flex violently as his thrusts change into quick jabs. He’s utterly disheveled, but he’s not done with you yet.

“I can feel how close you are. You’re so fucking tight around my cock.”

You nod absently, too far gone to speak. There’s so much pressure built up inside of you that you feel you’ll burst at any moment; and that moment comes when Fireball’s fingers find your clit, rubbing at it in quick motions.

“Cum. Now.”

You’re thankful to hear the words, because you fear you were about to anyway. You feel yourself gush around his cock, along with that familiar feeling of heat coming from his own release being pushed deep inside of you. You’re drunk on it – utterly lost in euphoria. Out of your body. The only thing keeping you tethered to reality is how Fireball caresses your cheeks, so incredibly tender compared to how he just handled you.

“You okay, beautiful?”

His eyes look wide with concern, full of fear that he crossed a line. You reassure him with the sincerest smile you can manage at the moment, your head still dizzy with endorphins.

You then see Howzer appear beside Fireball, his face reading the same expression.

You reach up to take Howzer’s hand. “You wanted Fireball to make a mess of me again,” you say quietly, still coming back to your body. “Look.”

Both men look at where you’re gesturing, their eyes blown wide and lips parting with a groan. You clench and relax your muscles, pearls of white seeping out from your swollen pussy and dripping onto the floor. You giggle tiredly at their shared reactions.

“I know you need a break, baby,” Howzer says, running his hand along your thigh. “But I want you so bad right now.”

“Then have me,” you offer. “I promise I’m green, just a little tired is all.”

Fireball cleans himself off and starts to redress. “I’m going to get some water.” He hands Howzer a different rag and places a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Howzer lifts you and lays you down the other way, your head now supported by pillows. He strips off his undersuit and takes his place beside you, one hand caressing different parts of your body while the other carefully runs the rag between your legs.

“You’re breathtaking,” he tells you. “And you looked so good getting fucked like that.”

You smile at him, holding his chin in your hand, running your thumb along the scar. “I can’t believe you just watched,” you tease. “I almost expected you to push Fireball out of the way, especially after how impatient you got.”

He laughs at that. “I’ll still have you, baby. I’m not worried.”

“Have me now, Howzer.”

“You sure?”

“Please. I want you.”

“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll be gentle.”

Howzer climbs on top of you, holding your face in his hand as he swipes his cock through your folds. You wince at the sensation, far too oversensitive for any type of teasing. Even though he just came into his hand not long before you got yours, he’s already hard again, and easily slips inside of you. Both of you share a soft moan, Howzer’s eyes fluttering shut at the feel of you wrapped around him.

Your leg bent and held against his hip, he slowly starts to thrust, his heated chest pressed against yours.

“I missed this,” he admits. “I thought about you a lot while I was away.”

“Fireball told me that you were asking about me every time you made contact.” You giggle when Howzer looks away in embarrassment, but your hand finds his scarred cheek, delicately redirecting his eyes to yours. “It was sweet.”

Howzer’s lips meet yours, his hips resuming that same, slow pace. It’s relaxed yet he’s still hitting so deep, a balming sensation that sends butterflies through your stomach.

A knock at your door makes you both pause briefly, but you soon recognize it as Fireball returning with water, and invite him in.

“Leave it on the table,” you direct Fireball. “And come over here.”

Howzer gives you a curious look, though not letting it phase his movements. Fireball obeys and is at your side in an instant. You take your hand from Howzer’s shoulder and instead reach for the waistband of Fireball’s undersuit. His brow raises, and this time, Howzer halts.

“I want to suck your cock while Howzer fucks me.”

Both men once again widen their eyes.

“This is what I want,” you offer before either of them can object or make an argument for your sake. “Howzer, it’s okay, you can go a little harder. I know you want to.”

Howzer smirks at you and nods, adjusting himself to kneel upright so he can give you what both of you need. Fireball can’t help but reach for your breasts, running his hands all over your chest. You guide his cock out from his undersuit and he steps closer, resting a knee on the bed to get a good angle.

“Howzer, I want you to cum inside of me. Fireball, I want you to cum on my tits.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hear one of them groan.

Looking up at Fireball with pleading eyes, you open your mouth and extend your tongue. His jaw practically drops at your gesture, taking that as the goahead to feed his cock into your mouth. You taste the tang of release still clinging to his skin and you quickly start to crave it, your mouth watering for more.

Howzer resumes his own movements, his hands clinging to your hips like a vice. They both use you, one cock nudging the back of your throat while another punches into your gut. Howzer’s normally perfectly styled hair quickly becomes mussed from exertion, those combed strands collapsing down his forehead.

Fireball thrusts into your mouth over and over again, drool starting to dribble down your cheek and chin. He keeps one hand occupied with squeezing your breasts while the other finds a home wrapped around your throat, just as it was earlier. That same tingly sensation floods your senses again from even the faintest of pressure offered, sending sparks to your core.

“She’s so close,” Howzer tells the other, as if you aren’t there.

Fireball smirks at that, squeezing your throat with just a little extra pressure.

“Fuck, do that again,” Howzer groans. “She liked that.”

Fireball repeats the motion, squeezing then releasing, and each time you clench with the return of pressure. It’s so much and just when you thought you couldn’t possibly have another one in you, your third orgasm of the evening hangs right there, though this one doesn't feel as disastrous. You start to welcome it but hold back, awaiting permission.

“It’s okay, beautiful,” Fireball coos. “Cum for us.”

Howzer chimes in, slowing his thrusts and angling his hips upward to hit that spot he knows will send you over the edge. “C’mon, baby. You can cum.”

When it arrives, it washes over you like a cool, replenishing rain, different from the others that were burning hot and unforgiving. You feel at ease and brand new. You feel safe with these men, knowing they’d do anything to take care of you. As you start to come down from your relaxed high, the pair dote on you with praise and gentle touches, then switch their focus to finishing themselves. You help them get there anyway you can, adding in extra clenches for Howzer and tongue movements for Fireball.

It isn’t much longer after that when Fireball pulls out of your mouth and pumps himself at the head, squeezing as his cock spurts his cum onto your chest. Howzer starts to crumble at the sight of the white ropes painting your breasts and drool coating your chin, and shortly after that, he’s burying himself as deep inside you as he can, pelvis flush with yours, and shakes and groans with his own release.

Both of them looked wrecked yet so satisfied. They also share the same admiration in their eyes as they get you cleaned up and hydrated.

Fireball sits at the edge of the bed, offering you and Howzer the blanket to cover up.

“Can I ask you both a personal question?” You and Howzer glance at each other, nodding in unison to Fireball before he continues. “What started…” he gestures with his hands to the two of you lying beside one another in bed, “...This?”

“We actually met several months ago,” you start to explain.

“And hooked up that same day,” Howzer adds with a grin. “Guess we sort of picked up where we left off.”

You laugh. “Captain Impatient here couldn't wait to get me alone on my first day here.”

Howzer shakes his head at your nickname, and Fireball only nods along as he listens to the two of you go back and forth.

“I don’t want to get in the middle of anything,” Fireball finally chimes in. “You two have something here – and I don’t want to ruin that.”

You make eye contact with Howzer, both of you thinking the exact same thing.

“You’re not ruining anything,” you assure him. “What Howzer and I have–” you look at Howzer again, to ensure you’re both on the same page, “--It won’t go beyond this right here.”

Fireball turns instead to his captain, wanting to hear what he has to say.

Howzer considers for a moment, tenderly grabbing your chin before responding. “I already told our girl here that I don’t mind sharing.” He pauses again. “That is– if you don’t mind sharing, Fireball.”

Fireball grins. “I definitely don’t mind. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting in the way of anything.”

Simultaneously, they both make eye contact with you. Howzer’s fingers delicately run across your cheek. “Are you okay with it, darling?”

You ponder their offer for a moment, thinking about everything it could cost you. You’re here for work, not for pleasure. You’re way out in Wild Space because you were entrusted with this job. Yes, you would lose this job if word got around that you’re sleeping with the clones. Yes, you’d lose the trust of many, and perhaps lose the faith of your people, who are counting on your office to fight against the Empire in a diplomatic way.

But you look at these two men, one laying next you, the other sitting at your bedside. Both of them would protect you without a second thought. Both of them have already shown how much they care about you. Both of them still allow you to do your job, mutually benefitting from it. They take your mind off everything that’s going on – the oppression of your people, the tragic experiences of recently rescued clones, the disheartening news when a mission fails.

And when the need arises, both of them can make you feel things unlike anything you’d ever felt before. It started with Captain Howzer – and you’re not at all about to turn away Fireball. You have strong connections with both of them, and you’re not willing to give up the physical aspects of those relationships.

Sitting up, you grab their hands, holding them in your own. You keep a serious expression on your face, wanting to display that yes, you’ve given this a lot of thought, even though you already knew your answer. You want to show them that you’re taking this seriously, and that their caution and concern are dually warranted.

That serious expression of yours morphs into eagerness, a smile forcing its way across your lips.

“As long as I can do my job without too many distractions, and as long as my office doesn’t find out – I’m okay with it.”

#djarrex writes #captain howzer x reader #clone trooper fireball x reader #howzer x reader #fireball x reader #howzer x reader x fireball #the bad batch #tbb #clone thirsting

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nickfowlerrr · 8 months

Text

can you feel it?

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (soulmate au)

warnings: really nothing but fluff. mentions of light baking burns. lmk if something needs to be tagged.

words: 2.3k

notes: this is my entry for @lunarbuck’s soulmate challenge. i used the prompt: you cannot feel pain until you meet your soulmate.🩵 and thank you to @dreamlandcreations for beta reading/editing my first draft!

Mmm, you hummed mindlessly.

The sweet, warm aroma of your latest batch of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies swirled through your small bakery, filling your nose and eliciting a smile from you as you walked to the back counter, setting down the hot tray you were holding.

You slid off the oven mit you wore and tossed it carelessly before you spun around to get the last tray of dough in the oven.

Your fingers brushed the hot grate of the oven as you slipped the tray in, and though you couldn’t feel the pain or burn of it, you still mentally chided yourself for not being more careful.

It was mid-September, that time of year when summer was still the season, but fall was all around.

You had been messing with some seasonal recipes for the past few days and had most of your impending fall lineup set. You were going to start slow with the roll out, and today was the first day you’d have these cookies out in the display.

You were a bit overly excited, but you hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that today would be a great day since you’d gotten up. Even Nickie calling to let you know she’d be late for her shift hadn’t dampened your mood.

You sipped from the straw of your cold brew, floating aimlessly around the quaint space while you were waiting for the cookies to cool, the oven to go off, or a customer to walk in. You’d swept the floor and cleaned the counters and tables a good three times now despite their already pristine state. It was a slow day, but you knew not to expect many people until after noon.

You eventually found yourself staring out the large glass window at the front of the shop, looking out onto the picturesque town street, watching the few passersby and the leaves that were blowing around; the branches of the trees that lined the streets swaying gently in the late summer breeze.

You weren’t sure why, but as you stood there gazing out the window, you suddenly found yourself growing eager, a sense of excitement coming over you. You felt like you were waiting for something…someone.

Just as the feelings were put into words in your mind, the ringing of the entrance bell sounded and pulled you from your thoughts. You tutted quietly at yourself before you turned and went to greet whoever it was.

You stopped short on your hello when you saw Nickie pulling off her cardigan.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” you said with a teasing smirk and a raised brow.

Nicki smiled guiltily, “Sorry,” she offered through a nervous titter, “Eli’s alarm didn’t go off, so we were both scrambling this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you brushed off her apology, “it’s been pretty quiet so far.”

“It smells amazing in here, did you make the pumpkin cookies?”

“Last batch is in the oven right now,” you nodded with a grin. “There’s some in the display case already, grab one, tell me what you think,” you said, walking over to meet her behind the counter.

You grasped your hands together while you leaned against the side of the register, anxious to get her thoughts.

Nickie grabbed a cookie and just as she was about to take a bite, the bell on the door rang again. You turned, smiling to offer your usual, “Hello, welcome in!”, but your voice caught in your throat when you did, only managing out a half hello.

Your eyes met steel blue as the man who had just entered stalled in his path for a brief second. He blinked then and seemed to correct his posture, clearing his throat, eyes never leaving yours, “Hi,” he offered.

“Welcome in,” you breathed, voice much quieter than you intended it to be.

You couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him as he approached the counter. He was tall, well built with dark hair, and god, those eyes. You could swim in them, they were so blue. He looked effortlessly cool, wearing a dark canvas jacket with the collar popped ever so slightly over a plain charcoal henley, his black jeans and boots completing the outfit as a chain of silver showed a bit from above his shirt collar. The dark color scheme worked well for the weather and for his features. The blue of his eyes even more emphasized by the color of his clothing. His jaw was square and sharp, and the structure of his cheekbones brought attention to the bags under his eyes. But they, along with his five o’clock shadow, only added to his aesthetic. You wondered if he knew that, if he was aware. You’d seen many a man who wore the same style, but it was so clearly put on. This seemed to be very him. Not that you knew him, of course, but still it was evident.

It occurred to you though, as cool as he seemed, there was the tiniest bit of pink coloring his cheeks as he slyly rubbed his neck, before he finally stood before you, that betrayed his air of cool.

Nickie looked between the two of you with a quirked brow as you began taking the man’s order.

Your fingers twiddled over the screen in your nervousness while he looked over the menu, musing aloud before he moved to walk the display case.

“What’s your favorite?” he asked, a wave of self assurance growing over him as he casually shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to watch you as you forced your own hands to still before standing up a bit straighter at the question. It was innocent enough, despite the smoothness of his words and the smile that played on the corner of his lips as he recognized your fidgeting for what it is - your own nerves bounding around you.

“Oh, um,” you took a breath, thinking for a second, “I’m pretty partial to the classics, actually,” you said with a small smile, moving down a bit to be closer to where he stood, a bit of your own self assurance coming over you in turn. “The pink sugar cookie and the chocolate chip are probably the biggest sellers, too. But, in my humble opinion, you really can’t go wrong with whatever you choose.”

He smiled at you as you let your own gaze drift down to the case of treats before you.

“If you want to try anything, we do samples, so-” you were about to start rambling when the oven went off, both of you looking over at the sound.

“I’ll get it,” Nickie called from the small kitchen, just past the back counter, where she had gone to eat her cookie.

You turned back to the man and were met with his eyes already on you, both of your brows raising in quiet surprise. He was closer to you now than he was a moment again, and you tittered. You couldn’t fight the small smile that cracked on your face, and he returned a soft one of his own.

“Did you wanna-” you were cut off by Nickie as she looked around, growing a little frantic.

“Do you know where the oven mit is?”

“Oh, I had it..” you tried to think where it could have landed when you’d tossed it earlier, making a face as you came up empty, moving to search the area with her. “Ahhh. I don’t.. Damn,” you breathed.

You took another quick glance around before you moved to the oven. You really didn’t want them to burn.

“I’ll just grab it really fast,” you told Nickie as you pulled the oven door open.

She cringed at the thought, “I know you can’t feel it, but still, you shouldn’t do that,” she warned.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, “I’ll put them down super quick, can you just clear the counter and then we’ll move them to the rack in a minute.”

You could feel the man’s eyes on you still, and as you reached to grab the tray, you turned to speak to him, “Sorry. If you want to try anything, just let me know.”

As you were turning and talking, you blindly grabbed the tray.

It took a second for it to hit you but then all at once you felt the burn.

You quickly let go, pulling your hand back with a harsh gasp before you could get the cookies out. You grasped onto your wrist out of instinct as the pain burned through you.

“Fuck,” you cursed as you gripped your hand.

“Are you okay?” both the man and Nickie asked in unison, watching you with concern.

You flicked your eyes up to the man before looking over at Nickie.

“It.. it hurts,” you said, confused by the fact that you felt it at all, and yet knowing full well what that had to mean.

“Oh,” she breathed in response, her gaze flicking over to the man still standing at the counter, but getting closer, all the while keeping his eyes on you. She blinked, eyes rounding slightly as she looked at you once more, “I’ll get a towel or something.”

She rushed away while you groaned softly. Both at the stinging burn and the fact that your cookies were definitely getting too baked.

“Just grab whatever will work,” you called to her, “they’re gonna burn if we leave them any longer.”

“I can grab them for you,” the man offered as he approached you, coming around the counter to where you were. “I uh, I haven’t met my soulmate, so…” he seemed a little embarrassed by the confession as you stared at him dumbly.

Your mind was racing with all the things you wanted to say to him, but your tongue was refusing to move as you stood there holding your hand.

He stepped closer, and it seemed he was waiting for your permission as he nodded to the oven. You looked at him and then to the tray of cookies waiting to be taken out. You took a step back and gave him room to get to the tray. A part of you wanted to warn him that you’d thought the same thing when you’d grabbed it, only to be proven wrong, but another wanted to confirm that... that it was him.

You watched intently as he reached into the oven. It felt like he was moving in slow motion while you waited for his hand to make contact with the metal tray.

He grasped it and his forehead creased, brows furrowing as he quickly moved from the oven to drop it onto the back counter. You were holding your breath and almost deflated until you realized he was cursing under his when he was holding the tray.

“Shit,” he cursed once more, shaking out his hand, his brows still drawn together. You were staring at him with rounded eyes as you continued clutching your own burn.

You offered him your name and you stepped closer, your voice making him lift his gaze from examining the burn on his hand, up to you.

His brilliant eyes seemed to twinkle in understanding as he met your own. He breathed a smile, mirroring your movements and taking a step to you in turn.

“James. You can call me Bucky,” he simpered.

“Bucky,” you nodded as your lips curled into a soft smile of your own. “Thank you, for saving the cookies,” you offered.

“You’re welcome. Should maybe invest in some more oven mitts, though,” he joked with a mirthful smirk playing on his lips.

“I should,” you agreed with a nod and a light laugh. “Sorry about your hand.. I uhm, I have a first aid kit in the back,” you gestured with your head, “burn cream included.”

“That’d be good,” he said, “and you have nothing to be sorry about, I offered,” he continued, trailing you to the back. Nickie passed you sheepishly, though she gave you a small, knowing smile as she went to watch the front.

You swallowed hard and cleared your throat of your nerves as you worked to collect yourself, gathering your bearings with this turn of events.

“So... Bucky, huh?” you said as you grabbed the stuff you needed from the kit and watched him lean against the empty counter. You walked back over to him as he waited for you.

“Yeah. It’s uh,” he stifled a small hiss as you smeared some ointment onto his burn, gently holding his hand as you did. There was something about the soft touch that you couldn’t quite explain. The way it makes you feel, something you’ve never felt before. It wasn’t like the pain, it was more like a comfort, but still it was new. “It’s usually reserved for friends...family, but I think soulmate fits in there, too,” he smiled charmingly at you before taking the tube of cream from your hand. “Unless you like James more,” he offered, “honestly, I’d probably answer to whatever you wanted to call me,” he flirted easily.

You held your breath at the touch, and let out a soft titter at his words, a spark stemming from his hold as you let him put some ointment on your small burn.

“I think I’ll go with Bucky for now,” you smiled, meeting his brilliant blue gaze.

“So I- I’m not too sure how this goes…” he started, a self-deprecating smile sitting crooked on his lips while he let go of your hand, somewhat reluctantly, once he was done with the cream, setting the tube on the counter before looking back at you, “but I was thinking we could start with dinner.”

There was a twinkle in his eye again, hope shining through, and you were sure your gaze held much the same as you waited for him to ask. “Are you free tonight?”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fic #soulmate!au #bucky barnes x soulmate!reader

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

Note

Hi Vodika 🥰

I'm back with a second ask for your follower celebration!

Could I get a Wolffe x Fem!Reader with a narcissus and pansy bouquet? Where the reader ends up in the hospital and Wolffe confesses his love for her when he visits and realizes how much she means to him?

Please and thank you 💚😘💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Accidents Happen

Summary: You've been crushing on Wolffe for, what seems like, forever. But you're convinced that he'll never feel the same. However, when you're injured at work, things change.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x F!Reader

Word Count: 2020

Prompts: Narcissus - unrequited love, Pansy - you occupy my thoughts

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: You did say that Wolffe was on your brain! So I hope this story makes you happy! And here's your personal divider that I made for you. As a note This is Wolffe's message, and This is the reader's messaging.

Early mornings are the worst, you think as your alarm goes off at 5 am.

You lay in bed for a moment, listening to your alarm scream at you from across the room, before you sigh and swing your legs out of the bed and push to your feet.

Early mornings where you actually have to do work the whole day are even worse. You blearily cross the room and hit the button on top of your clock, before you flip the lightswitch, making it impossible for you to go back to sleep.

And then you cross back to your bed, and grab your comm from its charger.

Several messages from your friends from the night before. Several more from your boss from last night and early this morning. A handful of emails that need to be deleted or responded to in kind.

You sigh heavily, and open the app for your work. You quickly log in for the day, before you go back to your emails. You absently answer several work emails as you pad through the apartment into your kitchen.

You set your comm down on the counter, still scanning your emails, and you grab your electric kettle to fill it with water. You set it back on it’s stand and flick the power switch, before you grab your comm again and turn to leave the room.

You start to reply to an email when the dark blue bubble of your instant messenger pops up on the screen.

You up?

Your heart speeds up and your face heats when you see the simple words sent to you by Wolffe. Your crush on him is, frankly, embarrassing.

Tragically. Morning Wolffe. What’s up?

Comet has been harassing me to remind you about the book. The one with the birds.

You stare at the screen blankly for a moment, You mean The Raven Emperor series?

How should I know? Probably.

You giggle, Wolffe, there aren’t any actual birds in that book.

I really don’t care, sarad.

Well, someone’s grumpy this morning.

You’d be grumpy too if your twin brother stole all of your caf.

What, the GAR doesn’t give you a caf supply.

The GAR wouldn’t give us armor if we didn’t need it to win the war.

You can hear him rolling his eyes across the text message, and it’s kind of impressive.

Anyway

Me and the boys are going to 79s this evening

Coming?

I wish.

I have a building that I need to appraise, and it’s something like 200 apartment buildings.

I’m going to be busy until midnight

🥺

Ah.

Well, next time then.

You wait a moment for Wolffe to say something else, but he went offline soon after.

I want to go on a date with you. Your finger hovers over the send button, before you sigh and shake your head, deleting the message.

Wolffe would never be interested in you. Not like that.

You just have to be happy with his friendship.

And here you thought ‘love unrequited’ was just something in the trashy romance novels you read in secret.

You allow yourself to wallow for a whole 30 seconds, and then you remember that you still have to shower and eat breakfast, and you toss your comm on your bed as you hurry into the fresher.

The chat with Wolffe means that you don’t have time for a proper breakfast, especially if you give yourself time enough to shower properly, but you think it was worth it. He’s Wolffe, after all.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re scrambling out of your fresher, pulling your wet hair into a messy knot at the back of your head, and you hurry back into the kitchen.

In your rush you accidentally pour some hot water over your thumb as you fill your travel mug with the water, and you release a pained hiss. “I don’t have time for this,” You say to the empty apartment. You eye the blister critically, and decide that it’s not worth the hassle of treating it

Quickly, but carefully, you finish putting your breakfast together, and you hurry out the front door.

Your boss wants you at the complex by 6 am.

And luckily, you make it. By the skin of your teeth, maybe, but you’re still on time.

“You’re almost late,” the stern looking older man scolds.

“The keyword there being almost,” You counter, as you look up at the building, “This is the Meridian Complex?”

“Yep.”

“You spent how much on this?”

“2.5 Million Credits,” He sounds proud about it.

“This is a death trap.” You point out, cringing as a fake shutter falls off a window three stories up.

“It just needs a little work.” Your boss says, and then he pauses, “You are up to date on your vaccines, right?”

“Ha. You’re hilarious.” You pull your datapad out of your car, and glance at the information on the screen, “You have the keys?”

“Yup, all of the door codes are set to 00000.”

“Noted.” You make a note on the datapad, “After you.”

Half an hour later, you realize that your conservative estimation of this taking until midnight was far, far too generous. This is going to take days.

You look around at the rotting floorboards, and at the graffiti and holes on the walls, and you sigh. At least the paycheck is going to be really nice.

“Hey! I think I found a half decent apartment!” Your boss calls from down the stairs, “Second floor, 209. We can use this as a staging room.”

“Coming!” You shake your head at the sheer mess, and half wonder if you could message Wolffe and ask for the Wolfpack to help. You laugh softly at the idea, the boys would be more than happy to help, you’re sure, but it’s not realistic.

You start up the stairs.

But, if he was willing to help, you could spend more time with Wolffe, which would be a win.

A weird noise makes you slow to a stop, and you pause, tilting your head to listen better.

“What are you doing?” Your boss asks from the top of the stairs.

“...I heard something-” You trail off as there’s a cracking noise under your feet.

Your boss’ face goes gray. “Hurry!”

You go to take one more step, when the cracking noise returns. And when you put your foot down on the stair…it keeps going.

You don’t even have time to scream as the staircase collapses under you.

The last thing you see as you topple backwards is your boss’ horrified face, and you hear a shout of your name.

Wolffe is not having a super day.

On top of the fact that Fox stole all of the Caf and the fact that he’s been confined in his office doing paperwork all morning, the fact that the Wolfpack’s pretty sarad won’t be joining them at 79s tonight just shoved him into an awful mood.

Nights out are always better when she’s with them.

He glowers at the various documents that need his signatures. He should be grateful. He’s not Marshal Commander. He’s seen the amount of work that Cody, Fox, and Bly have on a daily basis.

He’s lucky that he is only a commander and he only has this much work to do.

…yeah, nope. That didn’t help.

He rests his head on his hand as he taps his stylus against the table. “When Alpha said that a command position was worth it, he was a filthy liar.” Wolffe announces to the room at large.

He should make Comet do this paperwork in exchange for the free time he’ll need to read that book series he’s going to borrow-

Wolffe’s thought process is cut off when his office door slides open and Comet bursts in, “Commander!”

“What is it?”

“Sarad is in the hospital.”

Wolffe’s heart drops into his stomach. He drops all of his work and grabs his helmet, “Which hospital?”

“Coruscant General. Sir, where-?”

“I’m going to go check on her, of course.” He pushes past Comet, “You’re in charge until I get back.”

“Yes, sir.” Comet pauses, “Let us know how she is?”

“I will,”

The trip to Coruscant General doesn’t take long, Wolffe is able to walk the distance. And, as luck has it, no one stops him when he enters the hospital properly.

“Can I help you sir?” The nurse at reception asks.

“I hope so,” Wolffe replies, before he offers her name, “I was told that she’s here.”

The woman nods, “Are you the husband?”

Wolffe pauses for half a second, “Yes, that's right.” He lies.

She nods again, “On the fifth floor, room 517.”

“Thank you.” He marches over to the lift, and presses the button for the fifth floor. Wolffe’s mind is whirling. How was she hurt? How badly? Does he need to set up a guard rotation for her?

Did someone attack her? Does he need to get the guard involved?

The lift comes to a stop and he steps out, and heads to the nurses station. He offers her name once more, and again, lies about being her husband, and he’s pointed in the right direction.

The door is shut, and Wolffe lightly knocks on the door. He doesn’t get a response, but he pushes the door open anyway.

“Sarad?” The lights are dimmed, but not so much that he’s not able to see her.

She looks…bad.

Covered in bruises and bandages. Various machines attached to her, monitoring her heart rate and blood pressure and giving her IV medication.

“Oh, cyare.” Wolffe walks over to her, and looks her over. Every inch of her is covered in angry looking bruises or cuts. “What happened?” Gently, very gently, he brushes a strand of hair out of her face.

A lot of the tension he hadn’t realized that he was carrying drains from his body now that he’s sure that she’s not dying or dead.

It’s kind of funny, in a way.

Sure, he’s always known that his sarad was important to him. He’s not been blind to the fact that she’s always on his mind and that he never isn’t thinking about her. But he didn’t know just how important until this very moment.

Wolffe’s fingers linger on her cheek, and he’s startled when he hears a soft moan from her. “Sarad?”

Hazy eyes peer up at him, confused, “‘lffe?”

“Yeah,” He smiles at her, “It’s me. How are you feeling?”

“...wh’re?”

“You’re at Coruscant General, you were hurt, do you remember?”

Her fingers flex, and Wolffe takes her hand in his free hand, “Stairs,” She mumbles, some of the haze leaving her voice, “The stairs collapsed-”

“Unlucky,” Wolffe says quietly, as he sets his helmet on the side table and then sits in a seat, “How are you feeling?”

She’s quiet as she considers his question, “...fuzzy.” She finally says.

He chuckles, “I’m not surprised, by the look of it, you’re on some good pain medicine.”

“Wolffe?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you in the hospital? Are you hurt?” She asks, her brow furrowed as she tries to puzzle it out.

“Come on, Sarad. You know the hospital doesn’t treat clones.” Wolffe brushes his fingers across her lips, “I’m here for you, of course.” He pauses, “I also let everyone believe that I’m your husband. Sorry.”

She hums, “I don’t mind.”

“That I lied?”

“Being your wife.” She clarifies, “Sounds like fun. Let’s do that.”

Wolffe laughs, “I think we’re skipping a couple of steps, Sarad.”

She hums again, her eyes fluttering closed, “Don’ care. Love Wolffe.” She mumbles.

His breath catches in his throat for a moment. And then a wide grin crosses his face. “Are you still awake, cyare?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I love you.” He whispers into her ear, and then he presses a light kiss to her temple, “You’re not going to remember this when you sober up, and that’s okay. I’ll just tell you again and again, as many times as you need.”

She smiles at him, the drugs hitting her hard again, “Stay?”

“For as long as you want me, sarad. Promise.”

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 days

Text

Muddled Waters 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your boss has a dangerous secret.

Character: Nick Fowler (mob au)

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

You skewer candied cherries on a long toothpick and balance them over a martini glass. The deep blue drink with a layer of foam is perfectly aligned with the crystal brim. You stand straight as you top off the last of the drinks, a new batch for the waiting customers.

You put the small silver measuring cup aside and nearly cry out as the silhouette hovering in the corner of your vision moves. You touch your chest in surprise as you face Nick with a bashful smile. You didn’t even know he was around that day. Lately, he’s been absent more than not.

“Oh, hi,” you laugh at yourself, “I didn’t hear you...”

“I have a bad habit of that,” he grins, “some have compared me to a cat.”

You tilt your head, “some? You mean, me?”

He shrugs, “was that you?

“Maybe,” you turn and carefully move the stemmed glasses to a tray.

“New flavour?” He nears and stands close. You can smell his cedar cologne.

“Blueberry,” you explain, “bit sweet for my tastes but it fits the season.”

“Ah, sounds interesting,” he reaches and takes one of the glasses and you gasp.

“Nick!” You turn to him and he grins as he sips, the foam clinging to his top lip. He hums as he removes the toothpick from across the rim and nibbles off one of the cherries.

“Tasty,” he commends.

“Why-- Now I’ll to make another.”

“They can wait. It’s more than worth it,” he assures, still standing close as he slurps.

You work in the warmth of his looming proximity. He’s never had much of a personal bubble. Working behind a bar, you’ve grown used to being crowded. You measure and pour and muddle. You garnish and set the drink to replace the one your boss took.

“Right, ready,” you declare.

“Here, let me get those,” he slides the tray across the counter before you can react.

“No, you don’t have to--”

“I want to. Boss man’s gotta do some work around here,” he scoffs and lifts the tray. “You take a load off, sweetheart, I need those hands well-rested. No one else has that magic touch.”

You tisk and shake your head. He can be ridiculous. You won’t complain, he’s the least uptight boss you’ve had. The place isn’t too bad. Upscale with well-tipping patronage. It’s not your typical bar. Most of your work is done behind a wall as the customers drink in private rooms or in the common room where refined jazz wafts through the dim air. The whole place drips of exclusivity.

You clean up and wipe the counter before you wash your hands. Another order appears on the screen. Customers order on a sleek touchscreen, unbothered by servers amid their hushed conversations. You assume they are the types with private jets and luxurious yachts. Of course, they’re too special to drink like normal people.

You start up the next order. Spiced apple cider. A classic though it’s not often ordered. Two to put up. You mix the drinks in mason jars with thick handles. You finish them each with a cinnamon stick.

“Ready to go?” Nick has you squeaking again.

“God,” you throw your hands up and laugh, “how do you keep doing that?”

“Hey, not my fault. You’re in the zone. You know, you get all squinty,” he makes a face, “it’s like the whole world doesn’t exist. Makes me feel a bit small.”

“Mm, well, I guess you’re right. I should pay more attention to my surroundings,” you lift the mugs, “I got these, Nick.”

“It’s no problem, one of my buddies,” he wraps his hands around the jars, “been a while since I’ve seen him.”

“Oh, okay then,” you let him take the cups.

“Take it easy. You do too much.”

You smile tightly and lean on the counter. He goes and you turn around to tidy again. You can be precise. You like a clean station. You’ve worked with too many people who leave the bartop littered in lime peel and broken toothpicks. You can’t make a good drink if you’re working in filth.

But it isn’t just your work. You try not to let the personal seep in but you can’t help who you are. Things should be just so. Books should be lined up and sorted alphabetically and the dishes should be stacked neatly, and the carpet can’t be crooked.

You exhale and run your hands over your apron. Most people might envy your boss for his high company and exorbitant wealth, you just covet his coolness. He’s never bothered by much.

“Sweetheart,” he enters, this time with fair warning. You look up at his pet name. He always calls you that. “What’s that chocolate one you did last time?” He snaps his fingers, “you know, it was kinda creamy--”

“Brandy Alexander,” you answer, “yeah, uh, we’re out of dark creme de cacao. I put it on the inventory.”

“Inventory,” he nods and his blue eyes flick away guiltily, “yeah, I was supposed to do that.”

You cross your arms, “yeah, you were.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, I swear, I thought of it,” he crinkles his nose, “but it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Mhmm,” you sniff, “well, you have been busy. I didn’t even know you were in town.”

He looks up and his cheek dimples. His gaze falls back on you, “lots of running around. Sorry, sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d be right here, tasting all your delights.”

You nearly snort but instead just furrow your brow.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing,” you shrug and turn away, the screen showing another order. “Sometimes... the way you say things...”

He chuckles and leans his elbow on the counter, “I do like to choke on my own foot.”

“You know, I said before, I could make time for inventory. I don’t mind making orders--”

“Don’t bother,” he cuts your offer short, “I know people. I can take care of it. I’ll make a few calls tonight.” He stays as he is, angled against the counter as he watches you. He rests his chin on his knuckles and you glance over as you squeeze a lime dry.

“What?” You ask as you measure out the juice.

“How’d you learn to do all this?” He asks.

“I took a few courses, worked a few dives,” you say, “did a gig on a cruise ship. You know, you figure it out.”

“And you enjoy it?” He says, “I mean, I can tell you do.”

“It keeps my hands moving and my head from racing,” you explain as you mix the drink in a shaker.

“Sounds amazing,” he stands straight, “sooner or later, I need to find something to keep me busy. Something that doesn’t make me crazy.”

You garnish and he swipes up the glass before you can stop him.

“Well, you might just have a calling as a waiter,” you say sarcastically as you wipe your hands on a towel.

“I don’t know about that,” he grins, “I’m not much for taking orders.”

#nick fowler #the 355 #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #drabbles #series #au #sweet and spicy #muddled waters

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tofulune · 1 year

Text

༻laundry day

—"gonna shrink your shirt"

noctis lucis caelum x reader

Synopsis: Loving Noctis is like wishing for rain on a hot summer day. Irritating and Pointless.

Tags: [Words: 1,129], pining, angst, set before the game, reader is gender neutral

a/n: fun fact i finished writing this while waiting for my laundry to dry LMAO

“Pom, what are you doing?” You take the lollipop out of your mouth and gesture towards the house of cards Prompto was building on the floor of the laundromat.

“I’m trying to keep busy.” Prompto mutters as he carefully places the next card on the tower.

The laundromat smells like chlorine and despite the slight breeze you feel whenever the fan hanging by the door turns your way, your skin feels sticky from sweating so much.

It was a hot summer day and Ignis decided that today was cleaning day at Noctis’ apartment.

“This room is not fit for a Prince, let alone the soon-to-be King.” Ignis had said in his ever so posh voice.

You and Prompto couldn’t weasel your way out and were included in the cleaning regime since you were already hanging out at Noct’s place. You guys weren’t doing anything in particular—just sitting in front of a fan while playing King’s Knight on your phones.

The four of you spent the day scrubbing Noctis’ apartment down floorboard by floorboard, top to bottom. Your feet are sore and astrals know you need a shower.

When you guys were done with that, Ignis prompted things to go by quicker if the four of you split up. Ignis and Noctis went grocery shopping while you and Prompto were on laundry duty.

“The fact that it’s not even our OWN laundry we’re waiting for.” Prompto leans back on his hands with a groan.

A high pitched beep plays from the dryer and you jump off of it to unload the first batch of clothes.

When you open the dryer, a white piece of folded paper falls out onto the floor.

“Oh, hey. I guess Noct left something in his pockets.”

You pick up the note and start to unfold it when a hand snatches it out of yours.

“No!” Prompto clears his throat.

Your eyes widen and you furrow your brows in confusion as Prompto starts to walk away from you.

“Psh, this is just…a list of princely duties.”

Prompto sings the last part as he folds the paper up again.

You nod your head, suspicious. Prompto tries to avoid your eyes.

“Prompto, what’s that?” You say slowly.

“Nothing!”

You stare the blonde down until he shrinks his shoulders.

“You’re not gonna wanna read it.” Prompto mumbles.

“Try me.” You say, walking up to him and taking the note from his hands with your thumb and pointer finger.

It’s a letter from Noctis addressed to you.

Your heart skips a beat and you bring the note closer to your face.

You skim through it, brushing past him telling you about his engagement to the Oracle and how he’ll be leaving Insomnia to be wed to her because you didn’t need to cry over that again.

What sticks out to you is the line in the smack middle of the letter.

‘The truth is I’ve liked you for a long time.’

‘I’ve liked you.’

‘I like you.’

You zero in.

Because Noctis is Noctis and he holds his feelings in until they implode on himself, he rambles on for a couple of paragraphs about his feelings for you, but you skim past that, too.

Because how could he? How could Noctis confess now of all times?

You pale as you lower the note.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have read it.” Prompto sympathizes, pouting.

“Did you tell him?”

“No, you told me not to.” Prompto says as if it was such a sure thing.

You fold the paper up, putting it in your own pocket. The letter has reached its receiver.

You and Noct have always had this kind of tension in your friendship. Lingering touches and words that could mean more than platonic. It’s a tricky type of thing. Something you don’t want to break. You and Noctis were both cowards, afraid of tipping the boat and drowning, because what if it didn’t work out? What if these feelings were a phase and once you both got into a relationship it would lead to regret?

For a second, Noct’s letter, his words, made you feel like maybe this was something worth feeling, but ultimately it isn’t. People are dying in the never ending war and in order for it to end Noctis has to marry the oracle. It’s what the king decided.

That’s why the letter was crumpled at the bottom of his dirty cargos.

It’s why you’ll bite your tongue and stuff it in your own pockets.

“But this is a good thing! Isn’t it!” Prompto smiles in hopes of cheering you up. “Noct likes you, you like Noct.”

You give Prompto a sad smile before wincing.

“Prom,” You say his name solemnly, “This doesn’t change anything.”

Prompto’s smile dies and he sighs.

“Yeah, I know.” Prompto says after some silence.

You take Noct’s clothes out of the dryer, put them in a basket for Prompto to fold, and start on the next batch.

The dryer springs to life again and you heist yourself back on top

You gnaw on your lollipop stick for a bit.

“When are you guys leaving?” You mutter out.

The question makes Prompto pause, but he resumes folding.

“In three days.”

You nod once, slowly.

It’s sunset when you and Prompto walk out of the laundromat, and with only a few steps there’s Ignis and Noctis.

Noctis—with his stupid spiky hair, and his adoring blue eyes, and his red-bottom combat boots that look way too big for him.

It feels like you’re seeing him with new eyes even though he’s always been like this. Now, it’s different because you know he sees you, too.

Prompto eagerly greets the two and teases Noctis about how long it took for his laundry to dry and how great of a friend he is that perhaps it calls for a royal favor to which Noctis mutters out a, “yeah, right.”

“I can’t wait to get back home.” Noctis groans and rolls his neck back.

He shoots you a teasing smile, but it’s different from all the other ones now that you know what you know. You see the hidden glint in his eyes behind his bravado and your heart aches for a future you can’t have.

You give him a small smile back, heisting the laundry basket up before making your own complaints.

The truth is he never planned to confess to you and neither will you.

Whatever you and Noctis have now is all you’ll ever have—

You know that.

He knows that.

Loving Noctis is like wishing for rain on a hot summer day.

Irritating and pointless.

#noctis lucis caelum x reader #noctis x reader #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv x reader

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madameminor · 9 months

Text

In More Ways Than One, Part 9 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Wrecked

Summary: Everything seems perfect the morning after - until Wrecker starts acting strange.

Tags: 18+ smutty mcsmutterson, porn with plot, basically, all the good stuff

Warnings: Dom drop, aftercare, breeding kink, shiny's being jerks.

Notes: I'm experimenting writing more with less, since sometimes I get too caught up in the words - I may or may not like it. Regardless, please enjoy Wrecker being a sweet boy.

Word Count: 5k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

The bliss of a truly rested sleep is really second to none. Waking slowly from the comforting embrace of peace, you feel the necessary rest down to your soul.

That is - until you shift to stretch - and feel the full effects of yesterdays ‘punishments’.

Your stretching squeal becomes a mournful moan as you ache in places you’ve never ached before - and are met with a soft chuckle and a gentle hand on your cheek.

“Mmhmm. The lesson continues,” Crosshair smirks, kissing your nose from where he stands by his bed. You squint open your eyes and pout at him before turning your back to him, showing your disdain for his teasing. He chuckles again and gently spanks you, making you turn to pout at him again as he scoots in behind you.

“Don’t be like that. It’s your own fault anyway,” he murmurs into your neck, kissing gently as his hand gently rubs over your hip, your thigh.

“Hmph,” you pout away from him, too sleepy to think of a comeback.

He lightly nips along where Hunter bit you the night before, making you gasp at the light pull of memory.

“Nnnn Crosshair, don’t get me going this early I’m so SORE.”

He smirks in your ear. “You want to stay here then?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Hmph, alright. We’re going to the mess for whatever serves as breakfast out here. You want us to bring you back something?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod in affirmation, eyes still closed, voice sleepy. “Y’s please.”

Another chuckle by your ear. “Its a good thing you’re cute.”

“M’super cute.”

“You are. We’ll be back.”

The rest is like hazy background noise as you drift in the peaceful stream of ‘sleepy’.

“So she is staying?” Tech, quietly.

“Mmhmm.” The sound of a toothpick between teeth.

“Hmph. Can’t say I’m surprised.” Hunter, smirking. Various armors being put on. Echo’s chuckle, the sound of blasters finding holsters, its all starting to fade as you slip back into-

“Wrecker.”

Hunter’s voice is just above a whisper.

“Hey Wrecker,” a little louder, trying not to disturb you, but obviously working to get attention. “Come on, we’re headed to the mess. Grub time.”

You don’t hear any movement, just a voice, facing towards a wall - just above a whisper, and very, very guilty.

“U-uh you guys go ahead, I-I’m not really hungry.”

Everything stops.

You’re up and by his bed before you know you’ve thought about it, pulling his shoulder towards you to make him look up, the scanner you whisked from your pack blinking readings as you draw it down his face.

He freezes like a porg in headlights as you finish your scan. You set it down in confusion, hand to his forehead.

Hunter is just over your shoulder.

“What’s wrong with him?”

You scan again for anything, anything. “His vitals are fine. There’s no fever.”

“None of the side effects from the inoculations mentioned lack of appetite?” Tech muses quietly.

“Even if it did, Wrecker always has an appetite. He defies the odds,” Echo says firmly.

A small spark of worry in your chest has you on your feet. “I’ll take him to the infirmary and do some more tests to see if it’s anything -”

A hand grabs your wrist as you turn to get dressed. You look to where Wrecker waits, his eyes panicked instead of surprised.

“NO, no, I’m fine, really. Just… just not hungry, ok? I don’t need to… uh, go with them to the mess.” He looks down and away from his brothers.

Oh.

You almost kick yourself.

OH.

You turn to the others, “Alright my dears, I’ll take it from here. Out.” You shoo them towards the door, ignoring the fact that you’re giving orders while completely naked.

Hunter raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure-”

“BIP bip bip bip, go. Out. Bring back food for two, please. Don’t hurry back.”

The door whisks closed so fast it almost catches Echo’s kama.

You turn back to Wrecker, sitting on the bed beside him. “They’ve gone, honey.”

He looks over at you, briefly meeting your eyes before looking off to the side- he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His eyes meet yours again, pleading for help with whatever he needs to say. Your heart melts a bit for him - your gentle giant, in unknown territory. You scoot closer to him, putting your head to his, your hand on his cheek.

“I’m right here, I’m listening. Take your time.”

He sighs in relief, closing his eyes and breathing with you. He wraps his arms around you and rolls onto his side, pulling you over him so you’re the closest to the bulk head. He buries his face in your neck - aw, he’s hiding. You stroke his bald head to soothe him, letting him find the words he needs.

You don’t have to wait long. “Are you….ok?”

Something in his tone sets off your mental alarm bells.

“I’m wonderful. A little sore, but its a good sore. Why, honey?”

“I didn’t… hurt you, right? You aren’t… mad at me?”

…shit.

“Oh darling, no,” you say, fully turning to face him, your hand cupping his face. He leans into it, still avoiding your eyes. “No no no. I’m so grateful to you. I loved last night. I feel so lucky that all of you gave to me like that. I’m the happiest woman alive this morning.”

He finally looks up at you, still looking guilty. “Really?”

“Yes yes yes, a thousand times yes,” you say quietly, smiling. “All the things we did last night were things I’d talked to Crosshair and Hunter about enjoying - I may have seemed like I was upset, but it's what I wanted.”

“So I’m… I’m not a bad person for liking it?”

“No,” you say firmly, still staying quiet so it doesn’t sound like a reprimand. “I like those things being done to me. And you can like doing those things to me because I’m saying yes. If you liked those things and I was screaming my safe word, that would not be ok, but that’s what a safe word is for - to tell you when I’m not ok.”

“I… w’ll, I know that. But I still feel like what I did was wrong. I don’t understand, I liked it at the time, but… I started thinking about it, and now…Whats wrong with me?”

“Nothing, babe, nothing at all. This happens sometimes, and it means you care about me, and you would never hurt me if I asked you to stop. This proves you’re a good person, not a bad one. This happens, a lot of people in your position can feel like this after they do some of what we did last night. It even has a name. It’s called ‘dom drop’.”

“It… it is?” Understanding and relief start to show on his face. You start to breathe again.

“Mmhmm.”

He’s relaxing, slowly, but steadily. “Did the others feel like this?”

You trace along his face scar. “I don’t know. They may have at some point, either last night or before, but if this isn’t their first time they probably have ways to care for themselves.” He nods, thinking. You stroke the side of his face, being sure to meet his eyes. “Babe, I’m sorry. There are things to watch out for, and I didn’t think of you in the moment at all. It was your first time, I should have checked in with you. I’m so sorry, and I’ll work to communicate with you so much more, starting right now.”

He looks at you, still hesitant, but nods before burying his head into your shoulder again.

You mentally kick yourself, feeling the gravity of your responsibility settle on you - this is the second time you left him in the dust. If you were going to make this work with all five of them, you needed to up your game - to make sure you took care of those who needed you at those junctures. And Wrecker needed you to pay more attention to guiding him - he was new to all of this.

No use beating yourself up. You didn’t know who would need what before, but now you do.

Time to make it right.

You kiss his head, willing his worries away. “What do you need right now, darling? Snuggles? Kisses? Closeness?” He nods, snuggling closer. You smile, settling into the security of his strength around you.

The silence is peaceful. You feel him breathing, heart slowing. You stroke his head, trailing kisses every few strokes. You feel him relax against you, tension releasing… but there’s still a sadness. Something isn’t quite right yet. You let your mind wander over what past lovers have liked, have asked for in their care.

“Do you want to hear about what I liked last night?”

He looks up again in surprise - and nods. Good.

You smile, settling into him and the pillow while thinking back. “Hmm…I liked having you in my mouth while the other two were inside me.” He grins.

You continue. “I liked when you spanked me - it felt so good to have you so big in me and spanking me at the same time. I want to do that again, if you do.” His eyes spark in interest, and you can feel something near your pelvis firm.

Heeheehee.

“I like hearing you lose yourself and go hard with me - using me to cum like that. I liked how you didn’t let me cum, but you really wanted to. I always love feeling you cum inside of me, and what you said about wanting to push so far inside of me was SO hot.”

He gets bashful again. Interesting. “Yeah?”

You prop yourself up on one elbow, fingers tracing along his shoulders. “What did you like about last night?”

He swallows. “How hot you looked tied up like that. It was really… kriffing hot.”

You giggle in response. He smiles.

“When you choked on me because Echo fucked you so hard. That felt so good.”

“Oooo, I remember that. The look on your face was very attractive.”

He smiles. “I’m glad the boys made me wait, cause I really wanted to feel you cum, but then watching you cum so hard was really hot.”

He pauses, then glances away while finding the words, rubbing the back of his neck.

“A-Also, uh… there was…uh… there was a moment where I thought something kind of weird, but it was really hot to think about?”

“OOooo, tell me,” you smile, shifting closer.

He keeps rubbing the back of his head. “It…um…”

He’s so kriffing cute. “I’m listening, darling, I want to hear about all the things that you like.”

He swallows, still not meeting your eyes. “I uh… I wanted to cum so hard in you that you… got pregnant.”

Your core tenses in excitement. Oh, say it isn’t so. “Oh really?”

“Y-yeah…” he looks back at you, words suddenly spilling out in a rush. “I’d never do that, I know you have, like, that thing that stops you from having babies, but the thought just popped into my head and it was really hot at the time and-”

Ooooh the Gods are good. “I think so, too.”

He blinks. “You do? It’s not weird?”

Your smile is coy. “No, it's something a fair amount of people like. Including me, at times.”

He gulps again - you feel the firm grow firmer. His voice sounds mildly strained. “But you can’t have babies right now.”

“That’s true,” you flirt, a finger tracing along his collar bone, “but we can pretend. You can fill me up so full and imagine what I look like when I have your baby growing in me. A cute little wrecking ball.”

Firmer still. You can feel his heart thumping in his chest. “Babe… thats…”

You smile, leaning in closer to him. “Do you want to try now? Want to try and cum in me so hard that you get me pregnant?”

He reflexively grips your hips, where his hand rests, bucking involuntarily. “Kriff yeah…"

His fingers trail down, pulling your leg up over his hip before moving behind your leg to trace over your slit, groaning as his fingers come away wet and sticky.

“Babe…”

Your breath catches at the need in his eyes. “See how much I like the idea?”

He groans again, bucking up, fingers eagerly returning to push inside your entrance.

You wince at the sudden intrusion. “Gently, love, You all worked me over really well last night.”

He lightens up immediately. He slides one finger inside your slippery slit, thick and firm, curling against your walls, stroking your g-spot delicately. You clench around him, savoring the feeling of his loving care in your pleasure. He groans as he pulls his finger out again.

“FUCK babe… I’m sliding in so easily.” He pumps again, watching your face fastidiously. “Can you… take another?”

“Yes, oh yes.” Your hips buck, begging for more of him inside of you, thoughts running through your head of what you’re about to do. You start to ride his fingers while he moves inside you, meeting each other with each thrust. You hold behind his neck for support, eyes meeting his, begging him not to stop.

That sets something off in him, moving forward to latch his mouth onto where neck meets shoulder. “Kriff, that’s right mesh’la, ride my fingers. Want you so ready to take my cock. You want it so bad, don’t you?”

You whimper out a cry, riding his fingers as he pumps them into you. “Can’t wait to feel you fill me…”

He involuntarily bucks against your leg. “Fuck I’m going to cum so far into you. Can’t wait to fill you up till you’re leaking, make sure it takes.”

Fuck it’s so hot to hear him say that. “O-One more, Wrecker, I c-can take another.”

He slides in a third finger, finally giving you the same girth as he is, sliding himself down to suck pulses into your clit.

“WRECker…” Your eyes fall back into your head, your head falls back between your propped arms, and you fuck along him for all your worth, riding the wave of the pleasure cresting from his pulses.

“Oh babe I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

“That’s right babe, cum for me, cum for me real good.”

You feel yourself start to seize, riding his tongue as he pushes you through, eagerly licking up everything you’re releasing like its frickin’ candy.

You’re left panting - but still craving him. You whine a bit, bucking as he pulls his fingers away. You want so much more. You want what he said he’d give you.

Wrecker starts running your slick on his fingers over his hard length, already weeping precum. He bites back a groan, looking down at you with need, with… worry? Aww, the darling is checking in. Your heart swells.

“Babe, can I…”

You reach up to cup his cheek.“Yes, please yes. But kiss me when you push in? I’m afraid I’ll moan too loud…”

He kisses you deeply, sliding in so gently, both of you swallowing the other’s groans. HIs head falls to your chest as he breathes through the moment.

“So kriffing tight. Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

“It's cause I want your cum, babe. I want it so bad.”

He groans, hips stuttering into yours, making you gasp, eyes rolling back.

“Can’t wait to give it to you,” he says, slowly starting to fuck into you. He puts his head to yours, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face. “Fill you up so good with my cum. Want to get you so big for me, kiss your belly, talk to our strong baby while you bounce on my cock. Tell them how beautiful their mom is.”

“Oh Wrecker…”Your voice comes out a moan, unable to think around his giant cock fucking into you.

His head falls to your shoulder, hips moving faster. “NNNnn I’m gonna cum, mesh’la. You ready for me? You ready for me to fill you up?”

You can barely form a thought, but the words just flow out of you. “Yes Wrecker, please. Please. Pump your cum inside me, honey, I want it so bad.”

He grips under your shoulder, holds your thigh against his hip, driving his full length inside your throbbing hole. “KRIFF. Take it then. Take it all. Nnn... NNN.”

He growls a groan as his hips stutter, releasing his seed what seems like an unnatural amount of times deep inside you, using his leverage to push in as far as he can.

He doesn’t stop, even as you feel him start to soften.

He groans. “Fuck, babe. FUCK. I want to keep going so bad, I don’t want to stop I’m still so horny.”

You’re so on fire with need that you don’t skip a beat.“Then come here, big boy, and let me help you with that.”

He moves up the bed, offering you his slowly softening cock. Karking hell, you’re so hungry and desperate for more, you immediately take him as far as you can with one swift move. He cries out a swear - he’s so sensitive, but he wants it so bad, SO BAD. He fucks your mouth gently, watching his cock disappear down your throat.

“Fuck, babe. That’s it. Just like that, getting me so hard again. I wanna fill you up more. So much more. Gonna make you cum this time too, so you strangle all my cum out of my cock, fill you up so good.”

You look up at him, watching him take you in, his eyes transfixed where your lips wrap around his cock.

“NNnnn could cum down your throat, fill you up from both ends,” he murmurs, almost to himself. You moan around him at the thought, making his hips stutter with a groan. “You’d like that, huh?”

You purposefully moan a yes, smirking internally as his eyes roll back.

“B-But I wanna make you cum too, feel you cum around my cock. Kriff, fuck I need to feel you cum on my cock.” He pulls out and away, clamping around the base for a moment while he breathes. As you sit up, wiping spit from your mouth, he picks you up and places you so your head is towards the other end of the bed, hooking your legs up with his elbows. He pushes into you hungrily, ravenous to feel you around him again, moaning along with your feverish cry. He starts to slowly fuck into you.

“WRECKer! Oh honey you feel so good.” You bring your hand down to play with your clit. “Wanna cum. Wanna cum while you’re fucking a baby into me.”

His hips speed up, spurred on by your rapturous cries. “That’s right mesh’la. Kriff. Milk me dry. Gonna be so full I put TWO babies in there. Gonna see you get so big. So big cause of me…”

Stars, you can FEEL how aroused he is, he’s so hard, so needy in his thrusts. “I’m so close, Wrecker, I’m so close. Fill me up while I cum for you. Give it to me, please.”

“Whatever you want, babe, anything you want.” His voice is desperate, his eyes feverish with need and arousal. “Fuck I’m gonna cum again. Take it all. Cum for me while you take it all. Kriff, kriff, KRIFF.”

You swear he pushes in so far he’s in your cervix. You feel each spurt of his spend coat your walls, fill your womb, leaving you sated and full, wishing, on some level, that this was real.

Wrecker falls to one elbow, panting, still propping himself up so as not to crush you, still shivering every few seconds as his orgasm racks him anew.

“B…Babe… that was… that was so…”

You put your head to his, your hand to his cheek, panting from the intensity of your orgasm. You feel your breath slow, leaning in and kissing him slowly, sensually, bringing him down on top of you. Your hands rove over his bald head, feeling the smooth skin under your fingertips. You pull back after a moment, laying back to look up at him while your fingers continue along his scar.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” He sighs in relief, head dropping to your shoulder as you giggle. “I’m gonna pull out, ok?”

“Ok.” You gasp a little as he gently pulls out, leaving you emptier than you were - but not by much. He turns towards the bathroom, presumably to get a towel - you gently grab his hand before he can.

“Wait. Don’t you want to see how full I am first?” You can’t help the mischievous smile dancing across your face.

He looks back at you, confused.

“Look,” you smile, laying back along the sheets, spreading your legs, hand trailing down to your lower lips - and parting them.

His widening eyes tell you he’s watching his seed brimming at your entrance, slowly trickling out of you. You clench, partly to emphasize the flow, partly because its so hot, watching him watch you like this.

He gulps, eyes glued to your pussy. “Babe, can I… do somethin’?”

“Yes,” you lilt, pulling your fingers away from your entrance.

He slides his thumb carefully over your slit, gathering some of the slick between your thighs. Eyes alight, he leans over you - and holds his thumb up to your lips.

You smile at him, propping yourself up on your elbows, and without taking your eyes from his, you take his thumb into your mouth, tasting your combined juices, sucking him clean.

“You’re gonna get me hard again,” he groans, almost reluctantly.

You release his thumb with a smile.

“Good,” you purr, nuzzling against his hand, “because I think you promised to cum down my throat next? ‘Fill me up from both sides’?”

You see the shiver run through him.

“Kriff, babe. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans - right before climbing back on to his bed.

__________________________________________________________________________

A half hour later finds Wrecker between your thighs with a damp cloth, cleaning up the substantial mess he’s made after cumming twice more. He can’t bring himself to look, he really shouldn’t look, he’ll just get going again - and hes not sure he could take another round before his brothers come back, and they’d been nice enough to leave them alone this long. There would be - he shivers - more chances another time.

Besides, he wanted to hold you after that.

Throwing the rag toward the end of his bed, he finds you snuggling extra close into his chest, filling him with warmth as he wraps his arms around you. Yeah, this was what he wanted.

“Mmmmm… that was everything.” You look up at him. “How are you, babe? How did you like that?”

“Great,” he grins - before his face falls into uncertainty. “Though I, uh, didn’t expect that to happen, you know…”

“I know, but I just loved the idea soooo much…” you nuzzle against his nose, his grin returning. Kriff, you made him feel like a cadet again, getting his first detonator. “Did that feel like what you needed?”

“Uh…” he thinks for a moment, trying to remember where he started. “Yeah… I think I… I just wanted to know you weren’t mad, or hurt or… somethin’ else. I liked feeling… like feeling close to you.” He (very) lightly squeezes you. “I like this.”

“Then lets do this if we try something intense like we did last night. I’ll make sure to come be close to you, and tell you how happy I am. Yes?”

He kisses the top of your head, feeling a knot unclench in his chest. “Yeah. I like the sound of that.”

He’s silent for a moment, taking it all in, thinking about last night, this morning, just now… comparing it to every other moment of comfort in his life. Were there any?

He looks down to where you’re snuggled against him. “Babe?”

He can feel your answering hum through his chest. “Hm?”

“Thanks… for taking care of me.”

You look up at him with those beautiful eyes and beautiful smile, the greatest gifts of all.

“Of course, honey,” you say quietly, kissing his chin. “It’s my pleasure.”

________________________________________________________________________

“Do you ever think about it? Having kids?”

The question seemed to come out of nowhere - you had spent the time waiting for the squad cuddling and talking about what other things you wanted to try together or with the others, making sure to listen for his wants and needs. A comfortable silence followed, each of you breathing in the other, until…

“Sometimes. Not a lot, since there’s no call for it right now, but I’ve thought about it.” You look up at him. “Why? Have you?”

“W’ll. Not, uh… not til now. But I… I really liked the idea of having a kid with you.” He won’t meet your eyes, he’s so bashful. Such a sweetheart. “Never thought of anything other than hanging with my brothers, but the thought was kinda… I dunno, nice.”

You smile up at him and kiss his nose, about to answer - and are suddenly overtaken by a huge yawn, your body relaxing into the warmth surrounding you.

He grins. “Tired, huh?”

You grimace in embarrassment as you finish your yawn. “Mmm… yes. You aren’t?”

“Naw, too hungry. You go ahead and sleep, mesh’la.” He strokes your head and kisses your crown. “I’ll take care of you.”

You can’t help but smile into his chest, enjoying the warmth blooming in yours, letting your heavy eyelids close. “Wrecker…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy.” You breathe him in and sigh out relief.

His hands pause midstroke, but his body stays relaxed.

“... me too, babe.” You can hear the beaming smile in his voice. “I’m really happy too.” He continues his stroking, gentle fingers lulling you to sleep…

-until the door slides open.

“Are you two done?”

Crosshair’s slithery voice is as sardonic as ever. You smirk, your eyes staying closed.

You feel a shift next to you as Wrecker twists to whisper over his shoulder. “Shhhh - yup. Feelin’ much better.”

“Good.” Tech’s voice is, of course, matter of fact, even while quiet. “We have brought food. There is a fair amount-”

“AlRIGHT.” Wrecker whispers in joy, jumps up out of bed, doubles back to pull the blankets over you and kiss you on the head, making you giggle, then heads to the table. “I’m STARVING!”

Hunter’s whisper is sharp. “You di’kut, put on some clothes before you eat.”

You slip off into sleep with a smile, listening to your boys doing what they do best, your heart full of gratitude for every single one.

Yours to care for, as long as you have them.

__________________________________________________________________________

Earlier - The Mess Hall

“So where’s your medic?”

The four batchers look to the end of their table - where two clones with freshly painted armor stand, sneering.

Tech adjusts his goggles, looking them up and down. “Tending to one of our teammates. He was not feeling well this morning, potentially due to our inoculations yesterday.”

“Why does it matter?” Crosshair’s hiss is sharp, but not quite dangerous. Yet.

The two smirk at each other before looking back to them.

“Does she happen to be doing that on her back?” asks the one on the left with a mean grin.

All of their heads whip around, Crosshair, Tech, and Hunter tensed. Hunter’s eyes flash in warning. “Care to say that again, trooper?”

The left chuckles. “I think you heard me.”

The right elbows the left, indicating the group with his head. “Probably is. Probably needs it, if she was sniffing around our boys yesterday.” He looks back to the seething squad. “What's the matter? Your squad can’t keep one woman satisfied?”

“That’s enough.”

Echo stands where he is, staring down the other two. In this moment, the others can see his power shine through - this man was an ARC trooper, decorated for his many exemplary missions, a survivor from behind enemy lines, and back out in the field for brothers and Republic.

And he was irritated.

“I don’t know why you weren’t taught any manners back on Kamino. Maybe you were too distracted by your own insecurities that day.”

The two clones stiffen, slowly bristling- but Echo isn’t done.

“It doesn’t kriffing matter what she does in her private life,” he continues, eyes daring them to interrupt him. “What matters is she’s a trooper, like all of us. She puts her life on the line; fights the same battles we do, without enhanced abilities. She shows up, she works hard, and she cares for a bunch of clones like us, treats us like people,” He punches the table for emphasis, making the regs jump into a defensive stance, “so what else do you really need to know about her?”

The two regs stand, stunned, glancing at each other to think of a comeback- but there isn’t one.

“We all care about her as a member of our squad- so if you’re here to cause her trouble, then we have a problem. Now.” Echo leans forward, hand on the table, his voice getting very low. “Is there something else you would like to say to us, vode?”

“Oh I think they’ve said enough.” Squad and regs turn to see Captain Case, helmet on, arms crossed. The two reg troopers jump to attention.

“Mel. Felbourn. Not really showing our battalion in the best light, are ya? I think you owe their medic an apology.” His voice sounds dangerous through the vocoder. “After you finish scrubbing all the public freshers on the ship. Top. To. Bottom.”

“Sir yes sir!” The regs say in unison, stiff as boards.

“Dismissed,” the Captain waves, the two clones hurrying off and away with nary a mumble.

Hunter sits back at the table, turning to face Case. He looks over the Captain with a suspicious gratitude. “You didn’t need to do that.”

They can hear the Captain’s smirk. “I did, actually. They’re my men- and if no one has ‘taught them manners’, well, I’d better start now.”

He takes off his helmet and tucks it under his arm, shaking out his hair a little. “So, did I hear your medic isn’t feeling well?”

“No,” Tech corrects, of course. “Our demolition’s expert was not feeling well, so naturally our medic stayed behind to monitor any potential complications.”

Captain Case winces. “Ah, sorry to hear that. Though I’m not surprised, those inoculations are still new enough. Never know the side effects-”

“Why did you step in?” Crosshair interrupts, voice low and suspicious, glaring over at the reg Captain. “If you’re expecting to get to her through us, you’re wrong.”

Case blinks a few times, then chuckles. “Is that what you think that was?” He shakes his head, saying almost to himself. “You’ve all been hanging around the wrong vode.”

He looks back up at them, meeting all of their eyes. “Rex and Cody speak highly of you boys, and they don’t do that lightly. Anyone who has earned their respect… well, is definitely worthy of mine.”

He turns to leave. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast. Just know…” he flashes a cheeky grin at them, making eye contact with Hunter. “A girl like that? Make sure to take good care of her.”

Hunter smirks. He supposes he likes this reg after all.

“You can count on it.”

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

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lambtotheslaughterr · 3 months

Text

Rise -- Part Four

A Rafe Cameron Series

WC: 4.8k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART THREE | MASTERLIST | PART FIVE

note*: a reminder that you must be following me & interacting with the work you want to be tagged in regularly to remain on a taglist. this will be my final warning about it. thank you.

It was decided that you would move north. Adrianna had shared with the group that Tobias told her that before the virus completely wiped out communication, that there was possible word of a fortified community where the virus hadn’t struck yet. Of course, it couldn’t be guaranteed. That’s what Adrianna was told. But it was more than you all had before arriving at the base.

The car was quiet as Sayyed led the way in the dark. Taking the back roads was necessary again as all the highways were overtaken by abandoned vehicles. There were a few stops to collect more gas but other than that, the focus was to get as far north in the next 24 hours. You were on the brink of falling asleep, soothed by the sounds of your friends combined soft breathing in the back seat. Though the drive was tense at the beginning, no thanks to the brewing fight between Sayyed & Rafe, everyone had calmed down enough to focus on what mattered.

You weren’t sure how long you slept for when the sound of a door slamming shook you awake. You leaned forward in your seat, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you blearily looked around. The headlights were still on. In front of the wrangler was a forestry. You looked over your shoulder & watched as the others in Rafe’s truck began to climb out. Nuha, Millie, & Micah were still asleep.

Sayyed returned to the car, opening hid door to nod at you, “We’re staying here for the night.”

“Where’s here?”

“If I followed the directions of Adrianna’s map well enough we’re somewhere north of Charleston.”

You sighed to yourself when he turned off the car. It was the middle of the night & you were in the middle of nowhere. This wasn’t exactly the best time to set up camp, especially when everyone was tense & sleepy. And grieving. Severson’s gun going off flashed through your mind. You winced, blocking out the image of Luka.

“Guys, wake up.” You shook Millie. She groaned but opened her eyes. It was Micah who shot you a heated glare.

“Guess we’re camping out here for the night.” You informed them before slipping out. Before you shut the door, you heard Micah mutter a complaint to Millie.

You began helping the others as they started gathering camping gear. Fortunately, the vehicles were parked in a clearing so there would be no hiking in the dark. After fifteen minutes, tents, a canopy with the food & dry goods underneath it, & a fire was all set up. Rafe disappeared quickly, crawling into his tent at the edge of the clearing, furthest away from the rest of you.

Millie & Micah were heating up a large batch of soup, Nuha was talking quietly to Kai near the fire, Adrianna was writing in a leatherbound journal, & Bear was taking a piss behind the cars. You were about to head to your own tent, wanting to catch up on the sleep you had reluctantly woken up from. But Sayyed approached you.

“I need to talk to you.” His voice was low, secretive.

You frowned. Sayyed rarely ever sounded like so, even when the world was ending.

He lead you back to the wrangler, opening up your door for you to hop in. He climbed in the other side.

“What’s going on?” You tangled your fingers together in your lap.

“It’s Rafe.”

Oh. You fluttered your eyes closed, too tired to listen to Sayyed rant about Rafe.

“Sayyed…”

But he cut you off, sensing what you were already going to say, “He can’t be trusted, _____.”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes, “Can we not jump to conclusions please? I know you think he was trying to leave.”

“He was!” He raised his voice, but not nearly enough to garner the attention of your friends outside the car. You tossed him a narrowed look, warning him to calm down.

“I’m sorry.” He inhaled sharply before letting out a slow breath, “But you can’t tell me that he wasn’t up to something.”

“I think he was scared.” You reasoned, though you did recall Rafe suggesting the two of you leave back at the base, right before his predictions came true. Even though he was willing to leave behind all your friends, you clung to the possibility that Rafe didn’t know what he was talking about. He was high after all.

“Psh. Yeah. You ever seen Rafe Cameron scared of anything?” Sayyed shook his head in disbelief, leaning onto the center console to move closer to you, “He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

“Sayyed, I really don’t want to do this right now.” You told him exasperated. “Can we talk about this as a group in the morning?”

“What? No. _____, I need you to hear what I’m saying.” Sayyed dismissed your pleas & continued opening his mouth, “If Tobias hadn’t led us out of there Rafe would’ve been long gone by the time we made it out ourselves.”

“If we made it out…” You muttered.

“Why should we keep him around? He’ll save his own skin before he saves any of us.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew well enough that Sayyed, like every single one of your friends, had experienced a lifetime of trauma in just the last couple days. He wasn’t thinking straight. But you were too tired to help him get there.

“Sayyed!” You finally yelled, “Jesus. Fucking stop.”

Sayyed pressed his lips together, collapsing into his seat.

“I said I don’t want to talk about this, okay?” You hissed, “And I don’t appreciate you trying to sneak behind everyone’s back to get me to listen to you. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, with everyone.” You began opening your door before you added with finality, “Including Rafe.”

Hopping out, not wanting to wait around for Sayyed to say more, you slammed the door shut. The others were around the fire at this point, a couple paper bowls in their hands.

“Hey, everything okay?” Millie asked softly when you sat down next to her. Behind you, you heard as Sayyed slammed his own door shut before crossing the clearing to the tent you shared.

“Things haven’t been okay for a while now, Mills.” You sighed but mustered a sad smile.

She nodded in knowing, reaching out to grab your hand. You were thankful she was here. Millie always kept you feeling grounded, even as the world fell apart.

Nuha brought you a bowl of soup, which you surprised yourself with how hungry you were by practically downing it in four sloppy spoonsful. It dawned on you as you stared at the empty bowl in your lap that there may be a day where food becomes scarce. You’d have to remind yourself to eat slower & ration more.

The six of you ate in silence. Sayyed & Rafe never emerging from their tents. After a while you made each of them a bowl to bring them. It had been a long day & you couldn’t remember either of them eating. You were about to head towards your shared tent with Sayyed first when Nuha stopped you.

“I’ll take it.” She insisted.

“Oh, are you sure?”

“He’s my brother, _____. I think it’d be good for him to talk to me instead right now.” There was a protective undertone in her voice, but you couldn’t fault her for it. You had always admired their relationship, never having had siblings yourself.

You handed her the bowl, thanking her once as she walked towards his tent. You turned on your heel, feeling apprehensive about facing Rafe. Though you mildly understood Sayyed’s concerns, especially since you knew Rafe was willing to leave everyone behind, you still wanted to give Rafe the benefit of the doubt. As you were just in front of his tent, you desperately hoped he was asleep. In which case, you’d leave his bowl back at the table under the canopy. But when you called out his name, you heard ruffling within.

Rafe unzipped the tent, his eyes red & squinted as he looked up at you, “What’s up?”

“Here.” You lowered the bowl of soup to him, “I didn’t want you to go to bed without eating first.”

He eyed you suspiciously for a short second before accepting it, “Thanks.”

“Yup. See you in the morning.”

“Hey, can we talk for a minute?” You were glad your back was facing him so he couldn’t see you roll your eyes. You just wanted to fucking sleep.

But you released a breath of air before facing him, “Sure.”

Rafe unzipped his tent, opening it wider. You were expecting him to come out but was surprised when he instead gestured for you to come inside.

“Uh.” You looked over your shoulder. Mostly everyone was in the process of going to bed. Only Kai remained by the fair, staring emotionlessly into it. “Just really quick, Rafe. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, sure.”

You crawled into Rafe’s tent. It was tall enough to stand up in, but you’d have to hunch your back to do so. It would be more comfortable to stay sitting.

You watched & waited as he turned on a small battery-operated lamp, illuminating the small tent in a dim glow.

“How are you doing? You okay?”

What? You knew his questions were coming from a good place, but you couldn’t help to feel frustrated. Did he expect you to forget about the fact that he was doing coke while Luka was dying or that he had pushed for you two to leave together or that yeah, Sayyed was onto something when he pointed out how Rafe was already in his truck when everyone got out of the base? There was too many emotions running through your mind & you were barely hanging onto consciousness.

“Rafe…”

“Sorry.” He lowered his head, “I just wanted to check.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but sighed, shaking your head, “I’m as fine as I can be. Just a lot has happened, ya know…”

He nodded in agreement but said nothing more. It was silent for a while. His soup remained untouched behind his sleeping bag.

“You should eat. Get some rest.” You told him before getting ready to crawl back out.

“Hey, _____.” Rafe’s voice was nearly inaudible but just loud enough to make you pause, “I am sorry.”

“For what, Rafe?” You knew what he could be sorry for but wanted to hear him say it.

“For being right.”

Shock flooded your body, followed by unbridled rage. For being right? Right about what? Luka getting killed?

You were about to unleash your lack of sleep & frustration on him when he shrugged his shoulders.

“I shouldn’t have been out in the hallway avoiding it all. I should’ve said something. To all of you. Stopped it…somehow.”

Confusion came for you next. Rafe’s voice was soft, his tone remorseful. It was a side of him you had never seen before. For now, it kept the fire inside you at bay.

“I feel like shit about it. And I know Sayyed doesn’t trust me, the others, too.” His eyes met yours, “Maybe you too. And now Luka…”

You opened your mouth, wanting to assure him that wasn’t the case but stopped yourself.

“I get it. It looks bad. I don’t have an excuse for it.” Rafe pressed his lips together before he hung his head.

“But I wouldn’t have left you.”

It was your turn to lower your head. You didn’t know what to say, or think for that matter. You needed sleep, everyone needed to sleep.

“It’s been a really shitty day, Rafe. Right now, we just need to sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll figure it out.”

He raised his head to look at you but didn’t appear convinced.

“Unless I’m gone by the time you all wake up.”

At that, you shot him the same warning glare you had given Sayyed in the car. Rafe chuckled. It was short-lived but it was… nice.

You ignored his morbid joke, shaking your head, “Eat your soup & get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Okay.” Rafe nodded, finally reaching for his soup, “And thanks for this.”

“It was Millie & Micah who made it.”

The two of you traded looks once more before you unzipped his tent, climbing out. You were reaching for the zipper to close his tent for the night when his hand accidentally touched yours. You hissed at the brief electric shock, bringing your fingers to your lips.

“Oops. I still got it, I guess.” He half-smiled through his pitiful flirtatious comment.

For a split second, it was like it had been before. All your friends hanging out, talking, having fun, bitching about finals. The boys & Adrianna wrestling, Millie & Nuha watching on in horror. You & Sayyed happily laughing along.

It was the first time you had smiled all day, “Just go to sleep.”

“Night, _____.”

“Mhmm.”

You crossed back to yours & Sayyed’s tent, but not before you noticed Kai was still alone at the fire. You were tempted to go sit with him. Though you had all lost a friend, Kai lost his best friend. He needed all the support right now. But sleep was nicking at you, desperate to take a hold.

You promised yourself you’d spend some time with him in the morning.

Crawling into the tent, Millie, Micah, & Sayyed were already fast asleep. You were relieved you wouldn’t have to talk to anyone for the rest of the night. All you wanted was to go to sleep & hope the world you woke up to was the one with your friends alive & smiling.

Sayyed was staring at Rafe. His face hardened, brows furrowed. He was the only one, too.

“So what, you guys trust him then?”

You all had been talking about the Rafe situation for the last ten minutes now. And it was not going how you knew Sayyed wanted it to.

“We’re not abandoning him, dude.” Bear added, siding with Rafe.

“No one’s saying that, Bear.” Nuha jumped to Sayyed’s defense, “But he’s right. Rafe was going to leave us.”

“I wasn’t.” Rafe said. He had been saying it the whole time. You still weren’t sure what to believe. You honestly wish you could just turn back time, make it so none of this happened.

“You were just in the truck waiting for us, yeah you said.” Sayyed replied sarcastically. “You weren’t even there when Luka died! We could have all been dead.”

“But you’re not.” Rafe replied swiftly.

“Rafe…” It was Millie. She was practically standing between the guys as you all stood in the clearing, “What were you doing? Honestly?”

He looked at her. Millie’s face was calm, the opposite of accusatory that of which Sayyed reeked of. Rafe sighed heavily, shaking his head. He shrugged his shoulders, slapping his hands against his legs, “I knew what they were going to do to Luka.”

You felt your chest tighten.

“What the hell do you mean?” It was Kai this time, his voice pitched with anger.

“I told _____.” Before he could give any context, everyone’s eyes flashed to where you stood. “I told her that telling Severson was a bad idea, that they were going to kill him. It wasn’t like I knew for sure, but you guys heard from him yourself the night before. What he did shouldn’t have come as a surprise! You guys are the ones who voted to have Severson be told, you guys are the one who followed in Sayyed’s lead. Luka was murdered because you guys let it happen. I wasn’t going to be next.”

You felt Sayyed staring at you wide-eyed, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Me?” You asked incredulously, “Did you not hear Rafe?” Your eyes bounced around your friends, “We all heard what Severson said. Rafe’s right. We did this to Luka. We made the wrong decision, we trusted the wrong people. It was our fault. But Luka would still be dead right now, & you all know that. I can’t even believe were talking about this.”

How the conversation shifted from talking about Rafe’s possible expulsion to how you were getting partially blamed for Luka’s death was ridiculous. Nothing was normal anymore. No one knew how to respond the ‘right’ way.

“She’s right.” Micah spoke. His eyes meet Sayyed’s, “Luka would still be dead. And Rafe was… surviving.”

Rafe nodded thanks to Micah who sided with him next.

“I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same as him.” Micah finally added, “There’s only so much one person can do, Sayyed. And if you think you could’ve saved all of us… well, you’re just wrong.”

Sayyed was silent. His face wasn’t as hard, but he was still distrustful of Rafe, that much was obvious.

Adrianna jumped in then, her voice even, “As much as we have to look out for each other, we also have to look out for ourselves. That’s a hard truth we all have to accept. You especially, Sayyed.”

One by one, it was clear that everyone was beginning to see the fault in Sayyed’s push to remove Rafe. You couldn’t help but agree.

“You won’t be able to protect all of us.” You said softly, looping your fingers with Sayyed’s.

He looked down at you, his eyes sad. You knew he was scared. All of you were. He was just trying to protect everyone. Sayyed always put a lot of pressure on himself to be the altruistic leader.

“Okay.” He nodded once, his voice low.

“We good, man?” It was Rafe. You looked between them as Rafe stepped forward, holding out his hand.

Sayyed cocked his head, his eyes staring at Rafe’s extended hand. You almost thought that for a second he wasn’t going to meet him half-way. But to your relief, he finally reached his own hand out.

“We’re fine.”

They traded silent looks, not fully trusting the other. But it was the start of something. And it was necessary for the whole group to survive.

It was late evening. The decision was made as a group to camp out in the clearing for one more night. There was no need to rush. A plan was loosely in place: look out for each other’s symptoms (Adrianna would be keeping track in her journal), & slowly you all would move north. Adrianna had said the community Tobias mentioned was somewhere in Massachusetts.

You had walked away from the campsite, finding a small murky pond a few yards away. Sitting on a rock three times your size, you pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one. You hadn’t had a cigarette since you took a shit ton from the convenience store. It was relaxing. Tobacco wasn’t really your flavor, but at this point, you’d be happy with any sort of vice to relax in the hell world you & your friends found themselves in.

You were in the middle of your second cigarette when a twig snapped behind you. You spun around, gasping.

“Jesus.” Your hand was on your chest in surprise.

“Sorry.” Rafe chuckled lightly as he walked towards you. You watched warily as he joined you on the rock, his shoulder brushing against your own.

“So,” You began, “you weren’t voted off the island.”

“Yay.” He replied unenthusiastically. “Do you think I should’ve been?”

You stared at him. Of course you wouldn’t have supported kicking him out & leaving him behind. It was inhumane. He was also your friend. But it was always hard to tell what the truth was & what was a lie when it came to Rafe.

“No.” You looked away, taking another drag, “I wouldn’t have let anyone leave you.”

Rafe was silent, but you could see a subtle smile on his face in your peripheral.

“You mean that?”

Inhaling sharply, you adjusted yourself, so you were sitting straighter, “Yeah. Promise.”

“You’re better than me, than most of them back there.”

You frowned but said nothing.

“Sayyed was ready to pick a fight with anyone who disagreed with him.”

“He’s scared.” You defended, “He thought he was acting in the best interest of everyone. That’s more than you can say.”

The energy between you shifted, the air growing slightly tense.

“I told you last night I wouldn’t have left you.”

He had, but now that he was saying it again, you felt your gut turn. It felt like he wasn’t referring to you as a group, as a whole, but you as in…you. You didn’t want to know which he meant, scared of the answer.

“I know.” You lied. Unable to stand the tension, desperate for just a bit of normalcy, you did something bold. Something you might regret.

“Do you still have it?” You glanced at his jacket pocket.

Rafe looked confused for a moment, but when your eyes met his, he knew what you were asking for.

Reaching into his jean pocket, he pulled out the small baggie from when you all had been camping. He must’ve added to it from the sandwich sized baggie he carried.

“That’s more like it.” He commented as he poured some out on the fatty part of his hand. You ignored him, leaning forward to take the bump.

Immediately, you felt the effects. You knew it was likely because of the surreal circumstances of your life now, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Rafe smiled & watched as you grinned widely.

He made another one for you that you happily took.

Rafe did a couple himself, & after what felt like twenty minutes & three more bumps later, you were leaning into Rafe, enjoying his warmth. He was talking but you weren’t making out his words, just feeling the vibrations of his chest as he spoke, staring at the reflection of the trees in the water ahead of you.

You could’ve stayed like that for hours. Just sitting there, blissfully unaware of the world, feeling better than you had in a long time. Imagining yourself just out on a hike with a friend, talking aimlessly about nothing & everything. It was just out of reach, but you could feel it.

“Hey, hey.” Rafe bumped your shoulder. You looked at each other & smiled.

“I know what would make this even better.” He shared. You bit your lip in excitement, nodding in anticipation.

“Beer.”

“Yes!” You gleamed.

Rafe hopped off the rock, offering you his hand for you to do the same. You took it, jumping down jovially & skipping ahead. Rafe laughed lightly behind you as he followed. You were almost to the clearing, nearly forgetting the way of the world when Adrianna appeared, her arms crossed as she cut you two off.

“Wow.” She shook her head, judgement rolling off her, “You guys are coked out of your minds.”

“Oh, shh!” Rafe responded playfully, “No one needs to know.”

“They do actually.” Adrianna bit, “Because we’re having a group meeting. Now.”

Your high was slightly dampened, knowing you’d have to face the others, Sayyed especially. But your high kept you from caring too much.

“Fine.” You shrugged, glancing back at Rafe. He mirrored you, barely bothered.

Adrianna lead you two back to the clearing where everyone else was waiting. Their stares were obvious. Sayyed was fuming once he got a good look at you. You stayed across the clearing from him, choosing to stand beside Rafe. At least you weren’t alone in their collective upset.

“We’ll talk about that later.” He gave a pointed look towards you & Rafe. You forced yourself not to smile.

“But we’ve made a decision about what we’re doing next. We won’t be moving north.” Sayyed shared with the group, gesturing between himself & Adrianna.

“What? Why?” Micah questioned. Ever since the world ended, he had a never-ending sour look on his face.

“Because the community that Tobias told me about isn’t a community at all.” Adrianna added, “It’s not small or in the middle of nowhere like I thought it would be. It’s a city. Like two hundred thousand plus population. I either heard Tobias wrong or he didn’t know what he was talking about."

"How do you know that?" Bear asked next. Adrianna raised a map in her hand, “Maps don’t lie.”

“That & it’s close to Boston. So, regardless of Worcester’s size, it’s still a dense area. The chances of a safe, virus free community living there is low. Adrianna & I agreed it’s not worth the trek north. We should stay where we’re familiar, settle down & ride this out.”

“’Ride this out’?” Micah scoffed, “Like this is temporary?”

“It’s the best thing we can do.” Adrianna responded, her tone matching Micah’s, “We have the temporary cures. We just keep doing what we’ve been doing. We check for symptoms daily, we look out for one another, & we find a place to stay. Either until help comes or until we can sustain ourselves for when it never does.”

“And you two made this decision?” Bear jumped in a second time.

“Yes.” Sayyed nodded, “It’s what’s best for all of us.”

“What about our say?” Micah threw out, “This isn’t a dictatorship, we should be making these decisions as a group.”

“And we are.” Sayyed said, “Right now.”

Sayyed’s eyes passed over everyone, his eyes briefly lingering on yours before moving on, “We’re not going to have a repeat from earlier. No one will be getting kicked out. I was… wrong for that. I know that now.”

There was silence so Sayyed continued, “But we don’t want to tell you what to do. We’re all in charge of ourselves & what we want to do. So, if you want to find a place to lay low at, stay. If you want to continue north, then do it. But I’ve made my decision.”

The group was quiet.

You were honestly too high to fully grasp what was happening.

“I’m gonna go sit by the fire.” You said, unsure if your voice was even loud enough.

Bypassing your friends, you sat in a chair by the fire, pulling your knees to your chest. The sun would set soon. It’d be dark in no time & you were looking forward to going to lie down like the sun.

You were staring blatantly into the fire when someone came to stand next to your chair. You glanced up. Sayyed. Though he looked unhappy, you couldn’t help but smile up at him.

“Hey.” You said softly, your voice almost melodic.

“Hey.” He crouched so he was more eye-level with you. You knew what was coming. He was going to give you shit for getting high, especially with Rafe, but you didn’t care. You might care tomorrow when you’ve sobered up but right then, you couldn’t.

“Sayyed, I know what you’re going to say, & I’m begging you to please not.” You looked away from him, “Just don’t.”

He sighed beside you but said nothing. Then he grabbed your hand gently, “I’m sorry, _____.”

You turned to him, wide-eyed.

“I’ve been so concerned about the group as a whole that I haven’t been there for you.”

You frowned. You didn’t fault Sayyed at all for that. You were raised to be tough & independent, thanks to absent parents, but you didn’t want Sayyed to pressure himself to take care of you. You could take care of yourself.

“I’m not mad that you did coke, let alone with Rafe.” Sayyed added, “I was just shocked. But I am sorry for not being there for you.”

“Sayyed, don’t.” You shook your head, tangling your fingers with his, “I’m okay. I mean, I’m not okay, but I’m… surviving, ya know. That’s all we can do at this point.”

He nodded in agreement, but said nothing more.

“Thank you for looking out for all of us. I know some of them don’t see it that way, but I know your heart. And they do, too. Whatever they decide is up to them, like you said.”

“What about you?” He asked, “What are you going to do?”

You hadn’t realized that he thought it was actually possible you’d leave him. There was no way in hell you’d leave him. You loved him.

“Where you go, I go.” You told him, pressing your forehead to his, “Always.”

Sayyed smiled at that, leaning forward to kiss you. The kiss sent you to the heavens. It felt like you hadn’t kissed him in ages. When you two pulled away, you traded smiles.

“I love you, _____.”

“You.”

What was coming next was unknown. The world would never be the same again. But as long as Sayyed was by your side, & your friends were there all together, you thought to yourself that maybe the new world wouldn’t be so bad…

kind of a filler chapter before a brief time jump in the story. the next chapter will also be a filler chapter but after that, shit will start happening for real. this is a slow burn series however so dark rafe will not appear until later, but he's definitely got his focus on reader.

as always, comment your thoughts, reblog w reviews, interact w me through asks, TALK TO ME. i love & need it lmao.

thank you for reading!

beau<3

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bwabys-scenarios · 10 months

Text

Reunited

Part 24

Illumi x Reader x Feitan

part 23

part 25

warning: feitan is mean and ungrateful but what did you expect, he’s a lil gremlin! reader gets bitten and scratched cuz he’s wild 🙏

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

3 years ago

The summer air was suffocating. (Name) had long since abandoned her long sleeves and fluffy blankets, exchanging them for tank tops and sheets.

The girl continued her work of peeling apples. If she wanted to finish her next batch of apple butter before her journey into town next week, she’d need to peel until she couldn’t anymore.

“Reports of the notorious band of thieves, the Phantom Troupe, wreaking havoc in the next city over have reached-“

(Name) switched the channel of her small bear up radio. She didn’t want to hear about some thieves causing mayhem. The girl had already pushed the name out of her mind by the time she continued her work.

As the day wore on, she felt herself grow tired. She’d peeled around 60 apples. (Name) tossed the remaining bags of fruit into her fridge, setting the cut apples to boil on the stove.

‘Mmm, I think I’ll go dip my feet in the river while this boils. I deserve a little relaxation!’

(Name) slipped her flip flops on and ran outside, sliding down the hill and to the river’s edge.

It was calm and quiet, the sound of crickets and the sight of fireflies soothing to the girl. The water was surprisingly cool against her skin, causing her to jump lightly upon contact.

She sat down on the rocky riverside, dipping her feet into the water. “Ahh, now this is nice.”

For a moment, all of her worries of making ends meet and supporting her family melted away, the feeling of the river’s water lapping at her skin allowing her to forget.

But this wouldn’t last long. (Name) opened her eyes at the sound of something bobbing in the water. She turned to look down the river, narrowing her eyes to get a better look.

‘Is that an alligator? No, it couldn’t be, that shape isn’t right…’

(Name) stood and shook the water from her feet. She walked along the riverside until she was close enough to see what was floating on the surface of the water.

“Is that… oh my god!”

(Name) threw off her shoes and jumped into the river, swimming to the center to grab at the shape slowly sinking into the water. It was a person!

She swam back to shore, pulling the man up onto the rocky riverside. He was breathing, thankfully, so she wouldn’t have to do mouth to mouth.

“Let’s get you inside…”

She half carried, half drug the body to her porch, setting him down on the wooden floor as she scurried inside. She quickly turned the apples off before they could boil over, and rushed into the bathroom for her first aid kit and towels.

Not only was he absolutely soaked, but his body was covered in wounds, ranging from small cuts, to gashes. His arms were in the worst of shape though, having turned a strange purple color.

“Ah, he’s shivering. I gotta get him warmed up before he gets sick…”

She pulled at the man’s clothes, muttering an apology under her breath as she began undressing him.

—————

(Name) sighed, setting the small man down on the bed in the guest room. Thankfully she’d just laid out fresh sheets.

The girl didn’t have any men’s clothes for him, so she settled on pulling a pair of her pajama pants over his otherwise naked body. So far she had avoided looking at anything private, and she was planning on keeping it that way.

“Mm, his shirt was destroyed, but his pants and boxers can be washed and dried. Better than nothing, I guess.” She set aside the wet clothing for later, focusing on his injuries.

He had a large gash on his chest. It would need stitches, something (Name) could handle. Any other small cuts and bruises could be treated with a bandaid or salve, but his arms… that’s what she was most worried about.

His arms didn’t appear to be broken, but the purple color was throwing her off. He had also grunted in pain when she’d touched him, the only reaction he’d had the the entire time.

She decided to wait until he woke up to address his arms, setting some packs of ice to help with the swelling.

(Name) got to work stitching up his wound, being as gentle as possible. After that, she wrapped his chest in gauze, tending to his smaller cuts with some antibacterial spray and bandaids.

He had some glass stuck in one of his legs, which she had to pick out as well. Just what in the hell happened to this man to be in such bad shape?

She wanted to call a doctor to come check him out, but she had so signal so far out from town. She’d have to wait for him to wake up and be stabilized before she could leave, and that worried her.

After a few hours of tender care, (Name) covered him up and turned off the light. His breathing had evened out, his chest rising and falling softly.

When (Name) was finally able to climb into bed, she realized she hadn’t taken the time to really take in his appearance. She’d been so focused on saving his life she hadn’t even thought to get a good look at him.

‘That’s alright. I’ll take a good look at him tomorrow…’

—————

Sun filtered in through the curtain drawn window, causing the sleeping man to groan and attempt to raise a hand to his face to block out the light.

He regretted this immediately.

Indescribable pain shot through his limbs, causing him to scream out in agony. He cursed in his native tongue, struggling to sit up.

The door in front of him bursted open, a short, plump woman running through.

“Holy- are you okay? You’re awake oh my-“

She paused at the wild look in his eyes. The man growled, struggling to back away as he practically barked at her.

“Stay back.”

(Name) held her hands up in surrender, giving him the space he requested. Once she was a good distance away, he relaxed, but only slightly.

“Where am I?” He had an accent that (Name) couldn’t quite place, but it was nice.

The girl looked from his face to his arms, concern written across her face. “You’re in my home. I found you in the river last night.”

He frowned, sweat beading down his forehead from him straining to get up. “Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m (Name).”

His next question came fast. “What you want from me?”

She paused, her brows knitting together in confusion. “Nothing? Why do you ask?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “No one helps for “nothing”. What, want information? Better kill me, I don’t talk.”

She blinked before waving her hands frantically. “Kill? Whoah I’m not gonna kill you! I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t want anything from you.”

Although he could tell she spoke the truth, it didn’t do anything to ease his suspicious. “Don’t… don’t come near.”

He felt his eyelids grow heavy. He had just woken up, but he was still exhausted. The weight of his body slowly sunk back into the bed, the man falling back into a restless sleep.

(Name) stood still until his breathing returned to normal. She then walked over and placed a hand on his forehead.

‘He’s burning up!’

She rushed out of the room and returned to place a damp rag on his head, replacing the melting bags of ice on his arms as she did.

‘Hmm… I’ll make something easy to eat for when he wakes up.’

She settled on some homemade chicken noodle soup. She’d recently culled some of her meaner roosters, so she had some left over chicken sitting in her freezer.

“This will do. I hope he’s not allergic to any of this…”

(Name) was able to get a better look at him this time. He was relatively small, shorter than her definitely, with black hair that fell past his cheeks and a pale complexion. She couldn’t place his eye color, they were either a dark shade of gray or a light shade of purple.

The next time the man woke up, it was night. By the looks of the sky outside, it had just become dark out. He could hear the sound of the woman humming, the clinks and clanks of dishes being washed reverberating down the hall.

He was able to sit up with minimal pain this time, the bags of (now melted) ice dripping to the floor. The rag that had been placed on his forehead fell into his lap as he observed his surrounding.

The room was plain, having blue walls and no decorations. Next to him was a night stand with a cup of water and a straw. Had that woman left that there?

‘Need to call boss. Doesn’t know what happened.’

He looked around, spotting his phone next to the water on the nightstand. It was broken, and even if it hadn’t been it wouldn’t have worked because of his dip in the river.

The man thought back to his fight, and how he’d gotten there.

Chrollo had ordered him to steal an expensive relic from a local gang, which Feitan thought was child’s play. Although only Feitan was ordered to take the gang out, the news reported that there was more than one spider ransacking the town. He wondered how scared they would have been if they knew all that damage had been caused by him.

Feitan only ran into trouble when a nen user skilled in paralyzing peoples bodies was able to grab his arms. The limbs quickly turned purple, but Feitan was able to kill the man with little to no further injuries.

He dropped the relic off at the designated spot before walking along the river. Feitan hadn’t realized how badly injuried he really was until he felt himself sliding down the hill and into the river. He passed out before he could swim to the surface.

Thankfully, he was light enough to float down until (Name) spotted him.

‘Careless. Should have contacted Boss beforehand…’

He looked down at his arms, gritting his teeth. It seemed the persons nen hadn’t disappeared after his death. From the small amount of information he’d heard, the paralyzation could last up to 4 months. ‘Stupid. Could have been more careful.’

He wanted to slam his fist into the wall, but knew that would only make things worse. Feitan instead took a deep breath.

His mind wandered back to the woman from the previous day. His arms were next to useless, would he have to rely on her to eat? Feitan didn’t want to. He couldn’t believe that the girl had no ulterior motive, it just wasn’t possible. No one helped others without looking to gain something, at least not in Feitan’s world.

The sound of the door creaking open caught his attention. He’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard her approach the door.

“You’re awake! That’s good, just in time for dinner.”

The girl walked in carrying a plate with a bowl and piece of bread on it. She sat it down in the man’s lap as she situated herself in the chair she’d placed beside his bed.

“Can you move your arms?” she asked, picking up the bags of ice.

“No.”

She nodded. “Alright, then I’ll feed y-“

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no, are you not hungry?”

She reached out to place a hand on his forehand. Maybe he had a fever that was upsetting his stomach! But before she could place her palm on his head, he lifted his head and bit her hand.

“H-hey!” She pulled her hand back and held it to her chest as small droplets of blood beaded to the surface.

“Don’t touch me.”

She could feel the venom dripping from his words, an unspoken threat laced in between them. If she touched him, he’d hurt her.

“But if I can’t touch you, I can’t help you. I promise I’m not going to hurt you, I-“

“Stay away.”

Something about that man felt dangerous, like she was a gazelle standing in front of a lion. His eyes pierced into hers, telling her that he wasn’t someone to be messed with.

(Name) sighed and stood up from her chair. “I’ll try again later. Goodnight.”

She took the bowl and left the room, turning the light off behind her.

Feitan woke up feeling better than he had when he fell asleep, and weirdly not hungry. Out of habit, he attempted to lift a hand again to block out the sunlight, only to be reminded of his condition.

“Fuck…” he groaned, sitting up. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, taking tentative steps towards the door.

He paused for just a moment to look over his attire. Hanging dangerous low on his waist was an oversized pair of sweatpants, with some kind of cat cartoon character he didn’t recognize. They were much to big for him, the drawstring pulled tight to keep them from falling down his hips.

‘If Uvogin or Shalnark saw this, wouldn’t hear the end of it.’

Unable to open it with his hands, he kicked it open, causing it to fly off its hinges.

(Name) screeched from the kitchen. “OH MY- my door!” She rushed over, glancing between her door and the man in front of her.

“Where the bathroom?”

She blinked. It took her a moment to process his question before she pointed to the open bathroom.

As he began to walk away she stopped him by clearing her throat. “Will you be needing any help?”

He glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow. “What, gonna hold my dick for me?”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, just walked in and kicked the door close.

(Name) was left in a stunned silence, staring at the door. ‘Did he…’

She huffed and went back to working in the kitchen. It wasn’t as easy as it had been before she’d had to bandage her hand, but she’d power through it.

——————

Feitan could feel something warm in his mouth, something savory. It tasted good, the man swallowing the liquid in deep gulps.

In his dreams, he was sitting with all of his childhood friends enjoying the soup chrollo had made them. All it was was chicken and water with some sparse seasonings, but feitan enjoyed every second of his meal.

The smallest of smiles was on his face as a spoon was lifted to his lips.

He was still asleep, and (Name) was going to take advantage of that.

She’d propped him up and had slowly been dripping the broth from her soup into his mouth for the past 15 minutes, being mindful of his breathing. For the past two days, she’d been feeding him like this when she could.

He refused to eat anything she offered him, threatening her if she got too close. He always followed through with his words, biting and clawing at whatever skin he could get to.

Feitan didn’t stay awake much, only getting up to use the bathroom before passing out again. She’d gotten used to the man randomly leaving his room only to use the bathroom.

One afternoon after he left, she saw water dripping down his face and onto his chest. (Name) assumed he has been drinking water from the sink. He didn’t even trust her enough to drink the water she had supplied.

This didn’t bother her, though. The kind of wounds Feitan had received, both old and new weren’t the type that littered an ordinary man’s body. He’d had a hard life of fighting to survive, so she didn’t take his harsh words and actions to heart.

(Name) had fixed the door to her best ability to give the man some privacy. She left it cracked open slightly so he could go to and fro without breaking it again. Feitan seemed perplexed by her actions. Despite his less than kind attitude, she seemed unbothered. This freaked him out.

(Name) knocked on the door before entering with a medkit in one hand and his laundry in the other. “Hey. I need to change your bandages.”

He didn’t glance up from looking at his lap, his lips twisting into a deep frown. “I said no touching.”

“Yeah, I know, but if I don’t change your bandages you’ll get an infection.”

Feitan sneered at her, spitting out his words. “Don’t care. Stay away.”

She set the medkit down and placed his laundry on the bed before she sat next to him. Unlike placing ice packs/rags and feeding him, changing his bandages in his sleep wouldn’t be easy. If he woke up, he might seriously hurt her.

“Alright, I won’t touch you, but I’ll need to go to town and get a doctor. If I can’t help you then I can at least get someone-“

“No doctor.”

(Name) raised an eyebrow at this. “No doctor? How exactly do you plan on getting better if I can’t touch you or get you a doctor?”

The man didn’t answer, giving her a glare. “Listen, your three options are to let me take care of you, see a doctor, or die from infection. What’s your choice?”

He looked her straight in the eye as he answered.

“I choose death.”

——————

“God, he’s stubborn. And annoying.”

(Name) loaded her homemade canned goods into her large basket, huffing and puffing over the man’s behavior. He’d fallen back to sleep after his declaration, not bothering to speak on the subject further.

He seemed to be doing alright, all things considered, but his attitude was worsening by the day. He refused to tell her anything, not even his name.

(Name) fastened her basket to her bike and started on her journey to town.

It took around 30 minutes by bike, but stopping to take breaks made it a 45 minute trip.

(Name) participated in a farmers market every Sunday, selling her canned goods to make enough money to support herself and send a little money home to her family every month.

After a long day of selling her goods, she packed up her cash into three plastic jars. One was for her, the second was for her family, and the third was new. It would be her “mysterious stranger fund”, money she’d use for his basic necessities.

She decided to stop by the local thrift store and buy a few different pairs of clothes for the man. It was hard to find things that fit his style. Even in the heat, he’d been wearing a long black coat, so she assumed he liked wearing warm clothing.

She could afford a pair of black jeans, a black hoodie, a few pairs of boxers, some socks, and a set of pajamas. It would have to do until she could come back next week.

He hadn’t bothered to change out of the sweatpants she’d dressed him in his first night there, despite her pleas for him to do so.

Feitan would just scoff, saying that he wouldn’t be able to sleep in his usual pair of pants.

He didn’t seem to like talking, maybe it was because he wasn’t great with words? (Name) really liked his voice though, it was attractive when he wasn’t growling or yelling at her.

She stuffed the jars her loyal customers had returned and the clothes she bought into her basket and started on her way home. It was dark now, but the moon guided her along her path.

——————

“I’m home, I got you some-“

(Name) paused, dropping her basket onto the floor.

The man was sprawled out along the floor, his breathing uneasy and sweat beading down his forehead. It looked like he’d passed out after leaving the bathroom.

She was at his side immediately, hoisting him up as gently as she could. (Name) placed him onto his bed and pulled back his bandages. The woman grimaced at the sight.

“Infected, just as I thought.”

The infection wasn’t bad, but bad enough that if it wasn’t treated, he’d die. (Name) thanked god that she kept antibiotics on hand, running to her bathroom and pulling the out of her mirror cabinet.

“Hey, can you swallow? I have some medicine that will help you.”

The man let out a ragged breath, shaking his head. “N… no. Don’t… don’t touch me.”

He was too weak to fight her, but he still refused her treatment. The girl bit her lip before popping one of the pills into her hand and squeezing his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you die.”

She shoved the pill into his mouth, holding his lips shut as he thrashed, scratching and clawing at her skin. Soon, he lost his strength again and swallowed the pill.

(Name) let go of him, blood dripping down her arms from the wounds he had inflicted. She paid them no mind, leaning him against his pillow and placing a rag on his forehead.

“I’ll be right back with some water and some fresh bandages.”

For the next 24 hours, Feitan was in and out of sleep. Every once and a while he’d feel the cool sensation of water being poured into his mouth, too weak to protest.

(Name) stayed by his side as much as she could, constantly checking his temperature and changing his bandages after applying medicine to his wounds. He’s still bark out complaints and threats, but due to his condition they were now empty.

At one point (Name) was scared he would die, his face turning pale and breathing growing softer. She held his hand through the night, tending to him as gently as she could through his pain.

——————

Feitan woke up to the feeling of someone’s hand in his.

He was still exhausted and weak from the infection, but was able to lift his head enough to see who was holding his hand.

The woman was at his bedside, having fallen asleep while caring for him. Tears fell from her eyes freely as she slept.

Had she stayed with him the entire time? Feitan glanced at his chest, seeing that he was wearing new bandages and a different pair of pants. They were black flannel pajama bottoms, something he wouldn’t usually wear, but comfortable on his sensitive skin.

He noticed his hair had been pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of his face. A rag laid on his forehead to fight his constant fever, the taste of broth on his lips.

This girl had been diligently caring for him through his tantrums and mean words. Could he really keep pretending she was out to hurt him?

(Name) stirred, her tired eyes opening to see Feitan staring down at her with calculating eyes.

“You’re awake-oh sorry.”

She let go of his hand and wiped away her tears. “Sorry, your health declined last night and I was afraid you’d die, so I held your hand. I didn’t want you to… die alone.”

Feitan couldn’t understand her kindness. Her words did something to his chest that he didn’t like, not one bit. He shrugged it off, leaning back against his pillow.

“… you stayed here whole time?”

It was the first time he’d asked her a non hostile question in days. “Yes, of course. You were very sick and needed my full attention.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with her answer, but relented. She leaned closer to look at his face, giving him a sweet smile that unsettled the man more than he cared to admit.

“Are you hungry? I’ll make you whatever you want, if it means you’ll eat.”

Feitan maintained eye contact with her. His body was weak, and he knew he’d need to eat something soon. With the infection and his injuries, he would die if he didn’t consume some nutrients. Although he said he’d rather die than be fed by her, his body wouldn’t allow him to deny his hunger any longer.

“… curry.”

She blinked, leaning back. (Name) tried to hide her excitement over his request for food. “Okay, what kind?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

(Name) was quick to leave after giving him his medicine. He didn’t fight her for it this time, only complaining about the situation.

As she left, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to her bandaged arms, the beginnings of guilt starting to form in his stomach.

——————

“Fei, what was your mama like?”

Feitan and Chrollo sat together under a makeshift shelter, the latter stirring a bubbling pot of soup. Although it was hot, no one ever complained about the food.

They were just kids then, running around having adventures and trying to survive.

“Dunno. Died.”

The young boy didn’t seem to bothered by his own words, looking out into the distance to watch his other friends play.

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

A silence fell over the two, Feitan pulling his knees to his chest. When was the last time someone had held him? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t even know if he’d ever been held tenderly, like he was precious to someone.

As he would grow older, Feitan would be able to hide his feeling of loneliness and need for touch, but now he was a child that was struggling to keep it all together.

Chrollo clapped a hand over his back, remaining silent as the boys eyes brimmed with tears.

Feitan always hated that dream. It made him feel soft and sappy, something he perceived as weakness. The Phantom Troupe’s interrogator didn’t have time for such useless feelings.

He had just woken from his dream, the tears that welled up in his eyes pooling down his cheeks. He hated that he couldn’t wipe them away, cursing his heart.

The smell of food cooking caused his stomach to growl. He was now aware that the woman had been slowly feeding him broth over the past few days as he slept, but that was hardly enough to fill his empty stomach.

Feitan watched through the crack in the door as the girl scurried around the house, picking up little messes as she cooked. It was amusing to watch her bump her hip against a counter and gasp before jokingly wagging her finger at it, as if it could feel shame.

He wondered if she’d act so silly if she knew he was watching.

Feitan stood up and opened the door completely. This drew (Name)’s attention, who glanced his direction before going back to working on dinner.

The man stared at her for a moment before going to the bathroom.

(Name) tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes on her, grateful that he left as soon as he did. It was hard to cook when you were being watched.

After leaving the bathroom, Feitan did something that (Name) hadn’t been expecting.

The short man sat at the dinner table, staring at her with unreadable eyes.

To say it was unnerving would be an understatement.

When (Name) turned to ask why he was staring at her, he scowled. “Observing.” was all he said.

She sighed and finished up dinner. If watching her would give him some peace of mind, who was she to deny him?

“Dinners ready.”

She placed a plate of beef curry down in front of him, the smell of the food almost causing his mouth to water. “Here…”

She sat next him, scooting her chair closer. He instinctively shrunk back, like a wounded animal. She only waited for him to calm down, stirring up the food to help it cool down.

“Are you ready?”

He hesitantly nodded, leaning towards her with his mouth open.

The first bite was heaven for Feitan. He didn’t know if he’d ever tasted anything better than the curry he was eating then. After that, he was much more receptive to her feeding him, finishing the plate before he realized it.

“Alright, do you want some more? There’s also some pie in the fridge if you want some!”

He didn’t answer. It was already humiliating enough to be fed by a complete stranger, he didn’t want it to last any longer than it had to.

But his sweet tooth would not agree with his brain.

“Pie.” He stated, staring at the fridge.

——————

After his meal, Feitan retired to his room to sleep. Just walking around was exhausting, he didn’t have any energy to socialize with someone he didn’t really like.

The man stared up at the ceiling, thinking back to her face as she fed him. She didn’t look at him in a condescending way or laugh when the food fell onto the floor because it had been too hot. No, she patiently waited for him to finish chewing his food, and wiped his mouth as if she were taking care of someone she cared about a lot.

Of course, Feitan wouldn’t process that (Name) cared for him, a stranger for a long time. It didn’t make sense to him. Why help someone when you stood to gain nothing?

He watched as she cleaned up the kitchen through the crack in the doorway.

‘Strange woman.’

183 notes · View notes

skellymom · 2 months

Text

UNTITLED FIC SNIPPET

CROSSHAIR x READER NON GENDER

Background: Crosshair brainrot stuck in my head. Reader helps The Batch rescue Cross, Omega, and Tech from Mt Tantiss only to get separated from the group and have to make their escape...then losing track of everyone for a long extended period of time. Reader and Cross have navigate living with each other on the stolen Imperial ship with the hope you can find your clone family again.

Word count: 325

No warnings, just angst and fluff

The open air market on some back water Outer Rim moon provided a distraction. The textile stand caught your eye. Beautiful scarves...you picked up a jet black one with fine silver metallic strands running through it.

"Good choice. It compliments your hair." The elderly shop keep stepped from behind a long quilt hanging behind the counter.

"Marv! Are you flirting again?" An older woman approached playfully teasing her husband.

"Now why would I do that when I have you, my sweet Meileroon? Besides, here's their partner now."

Crosshair sauntered up to the counter, amused at the comment.

"Hello honey" He teased.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his "greeting." "What do you think of this scarf?"

"Hmm, not really my style." Cross reached down to pull another from under the pile. "Now this one..."

This scarf was rusty red with fine intermittent off-white paired stripes dispersed through it. Crosshair draped it around his neck. "What do you think?"

The blood drained from your face.

"No..." You dropped the scarf and hurried away from the stand.

*************

Cross caught up to you a few moments later...still wearing that damned scarf.

"Care to explain?"

Grabbing the fabric in your fist. "That's HIS scarf...NOT YOURS!

Cross softened. Not a trace of snark on his face. "You were in love with Hunter?"

"We are STILL in a relationship, Crosshair! Just because Hunter and I are apart doesn't mean that ended."

Crosshair stared directly into your eyes with such an intensity...it was difficult to keep eye contact.

"So...I complicate those feelings." It wasn't a question. He didn't need to ask. He KNEW.

You noticed his eyes changed from brown to grey in this perfect light. The light of the sun setting on this backwater moon. Almost the exact color gray of his brother's eyes.

You sighed deeply, letting go of the scarf. Your hand dropping to rest, open palmed on Crosshair's chest.

He stepped closer, placing his warm hand over yours...

**************

Yes...I have several other fics that I MUST WRITE more chapters to/finish...but this MAN...what is happening to me??? Dammit Crosshair...you Silver Vixen...haunting me with your snarkiness and slutty skinny getaway sticks...

...I've got the fever...FOR MORE CROSSHAIR!

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

@fionajames @thecoffeelorian @genericficerblog @crosshairs-right-nut @arctrooper69 @littlefeatherr @askyourfox

I need to tag more people, but wanted to rush this out before leaving for Tuesday Trivia Night with friends! PLEASE message me or let me know if you want on the taglist! Thanks!!!

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fourteentheart · 3 months

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Pspspspspsp! Not the first time I've drawn Makoh'to whispering in Gaius's ear... not the last, I hope!

#ffxiv #gaiuswol #gaius x wol #gaius baelsar #wol #wolnpc #i need to set up my batch tags for gaiuswol again lol #ace scribbles #draw gaius consistently challenge

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 2 months

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Mise en Place, Chapter 4

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: M

Story Summary: Here

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness, no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, things gone get SPICY later 🔥 (aka smut in future chapters)

Word Count: ~2600

A/N: Here we are with another update!

Divider by the phenomenally talented @theradioactivespidergwen!

Tag List: @danzer8705 @shouldbestudying41 @capylore @mattmurdockstateofmind @yarrystyleeza

“New text message.”

Matt finished blending the batch of Daredevil's house salad dressing he was currently preparing and put it in the fridge to set before pulling his phone out of his pocket and tapping at the screen.

He smiled when his phone announced that the text was from you.

“Thank you so much for the flowers,” it read off to him. “They're beautiful. By the way I'm thinking of you too and also can't wait to see you again. Heart emoji.”

Matt's smile widened into a grin. He had spent thirty minutes at the florist this morning trying to choose the perfect bouquet of flowers to send to you and come up with the perfect message to go on the accompanying card.

“Ooh, heart emoji,” Foggy teased good-naturedly from over at the sink. “You two must've had a really good time last night.”

Matt chuckled. “Not in the way you're insinuating, but yeah, we did.”

“And? Tell me all about your evening with your woman.”

“One second.” Matt hit the reply button and dictated, “I'm glad you like them, smile emoji” before sending his response.

He put his phone away and moved back to the prep counter to peel potatoes for the day's batch of gnocchi. “Okay, so…”

He began to recount his evening with you to Foggy, from the hug the two of you had shared when you had first arrived at Matt's apartment, to holding your hand while you went up to the roof and your gasp of delight at the decor, and the long conversation that you two had shared during dinner. “We talked for so long that I almost forgot about dessert, so rather than having her wait upstairs while I finished making it I suggested that we just have dessert downstairs, which she said she was fine with.”

He smiled at the memory. His original plan had been for the two of you to have dessert on the roof then head downstairs to cuddle on Matt's couch, but he had to admit that the alternative had been quite enjoyable as well. “She also said that she likes watching me cook, even if I'm just making whipped cream in a mixer.”

Foggy joined Matt at the prep table to start peeling and chopping some carrots. “Aww, that's sweet, although I think it's more of the fact that it's you making it, buddy.”

Matt grinned. “Anyway, I had been wanting to kiss her all night but hadn't really had the opportunity, so while we were having dessert I told her she had chocolate mousse on her mouth and made my move.”

Foggy huffed out a laugh. “Matthew Murdock, you smooth sonofabitch.”

Matt shrugged. “Turns out I wasn't that smooth, because right after I kissed her she asked how I knew she had something on her face.”

Foggy gasped. “Oh shit, what'd you say? She doesn't know about your freakishly sensitive senses, does she?”

Matt shook his head. Foggy and Karen both knew about how the chemicals that had blinded him had also enhanced his remaining senses far beyond normal human capabilities, but he wasn't comfortable sharing that information with you quite yet. “No, I’ve only told her that my palate became sensitive after the accident and that's how I got into cooking.”

“So then what'd you say?”

“She didn't really have any chocolate mousse on her mouth, so I told her that I didn't actually know and had just wanted to kiss her.” Matt grinned. “She said I didn't need to make up a reason to try to kiss her, so I took that as permission to kiss her again and we wound up making out like teenagers in my kitchen.”

Foggy lightly bumped Matt with his shoulder. “Yeah, go Matty.”

Matt shook his head. “Anyway, needless to say that the evening turned out really well, so I told her in no uncertain terms that I wanted to see her again then walked her home and kissed her good night.”

“And bought her flowers this morning.”

“Yeah.”

Foggy stopped chopping. “You know, I know things haven't been easy for you since She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, but I'm honestly really glad to see you happy.”

Matt nodded. “Thanks, Fog.”

While you genuinely seemed to enjoy watching Matt cook and didn't mind having to wait while he finished preparing and plating your meals, Elektra had never been one to be willing to wait for her food or hang around the kitchen -- she had always wanted her meals fully prepared and ready to eat before she sat down for a dinner date and refused to be Matt's taste-tester whenever he was experimenting with new recipes. “Honestly, Matthew,” she had said the first and only time he had asked her to taste-test for him. “I have much better things to do with my time than to sit there and watch you play around in the kitchen.”

In hindsight, Matt should've realized that Elektra had been using him. You, however…

You were genuine. I don't want to have to wait until later to ask her out again.

He set his vegetable peeler down. “I'll be right back.”

Foggy huffed out a laugh. “Tell her hi for me.”

Matt grinned and headed to the office, pulling his phone out of his pocket in order to call you.

“... Anonymous sources tell the Bulletin that the surprise inspection stemmed from a report of food poisoning originating at the restaurant. Requests for comment from owner and executive chef Wilson Fisk were not returned by press time.”

Skyler huffed out a laugh as you finished reading your story about Kingpin's closure out loud. “Pretty easy to fact-check when we're the ‘anonymous sources’, isn't it?”

You grinned. “Plus we got an exclusive.”

You paused as your phone rang, Matt's name flashing across the screen. “Oh, hold on a second. It's Matt.”

You answered. “Hello?”

Matt said your name. “Hi.”

You couldn't help but smile at the sound of his voice. “Hi, Matt.”

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all. I'm just finishing up an article to send to my boss for approval.”

Skyler lightly tapped on your desk and mouthed, “I'll talk to you later.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“So what's your article about?” Matt asked.

“Kingpin's closure,” you replied. “It's just a short thing for the online edition since we weren't able to make the print one this morning. We're late reporting about it but at least we have information that the other publications don't about what triggered the closure.”

“Ah, yeah, Foggy did say that Skyler mentioned that the Bulletin was covering that.” Matt paused. “Hey, um, speaking of Kingpin, I don't know if you can mostly write about whatever you want or if your boss assigns all of your articles, but major violations like the ones that got Kingpin shut down don't just happen overnight, so if you're able and have time you might want to dig into their past health inspection records and see if anything looks funny to you.”

Your eyes widened. Matt could possibly be handing you a major scoop. “Are you saying that you think they were falsified?”

“I honestly can't say for certain,” Matt replied hesitantly. “ But there's been rumblings within the industry for years about Fisk being involved in a lot of shady and underhanded dealings, so it really wouldn't surprise me if it turned out that he had someone at the Health Department on his payroll.”

You were pretty sure that the health department’s inspection records were publicly available, but even if they weren't you would easily be able to file a request through the Bulletin . “My boss does assign some of my articles, but he gives me enough autonomy to where I can at least look into it.”

“Okay, thanks.” Matt paused. “Anyway, that's not actually why I called. I was wondering if maybe we could meet for lunch tomorrow? Say around noon?”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of getting to see Matt again so soon -- you honestly hadn't expected him to have time for you until the weekend at the very least. “Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to.”

“Great! I thought maybe we could go to that little park near the Bulletin , have a picnic then take a quick walk together if there's time?”

You knew which park Matt was referring to -- you occasionally took walks along the walking path there on your lunch break when you needed to escape from the chaos of the office for a bit. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Oh, and one other thing. I wanted to let you know that business at the restaurant has already picked up thanks to your article -- we got 12 reservations overnight just for this evening alone, and I'm sure at least a few more have come in since Foggy checked the reservation system this morning.”

You grinned. You had hoped that your article would help get the word out about Daredevil. “Oh my gosh, Matt, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you.”

“Thanks. And actually I have to run so I can get back to helping Foggy with prep since we know we'll be busier than usual, but I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow. And I'll let you know if I find anything that seems suspicious about Kingpin's health inspection records.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Talk to you later. Bye, Matt.”

“Bye.”

You hung up, a smile on your face.

You read over your Kingpin article one more time before emailing it to Ellison, then got up and headed to his office.

You knocked on his open door. “Hey, Mitch, you got a second?”

Ellison looked up from an article he was proofreading. “Yeah, what's up?”

“I wanted to let you know that I just sent you the article on the Kingpin shutdown, but I also received a tip that Wilson Fisk may have been bribing employees at the health department to falsify their inspection reports.”

Ellison's eyebrows raised. “Holy shit, really?”

You nodded. “Chef Murdock told me that there's been talk in the culinary industry for years about Fisk engaging in shady business practices and that the health code violations that triggered Kingpin's shutdown don't just happen overnight, so he suspects that Fisk had people from the health department on his payroll. It seems like it's worth at least looking into, so I figured I could submit a public records request for Kingpin's health inspection reports to see if I notice any kind of discrepancies.”

Ellison thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, go ahead. Let me know what you find and we'll proceed from there.”

“Okay, thanks. I will.”

You returned to your desk and pulled up the website for the New York Health Department, then submitted an online request for hardcopies of Kingpin's health inspection records.

You smiled as the bouquet of roses Matt had sent you caught your eye once again.

It had been an incredibly kind and sweet gesture and needless to say that you were definitely looking forward to your lunch date with Matt the next day. Yeah, he's nothing like Kelsie had made him out to be.

“Hey, so what did Chef Hottie want?” Skyler said as she stopped by your desk. “Did he ask you out on another date?”

You shook your head with a grin. “Okay, first off, can you please start calling him Matt? I don't know how Foggy would feel hearing the woman he's dating referring to his best friend-slash-business partner as ‘Chef Hottie’.”

Skyler laughed. “Okay, fine. Did Matt ask you out on another date?”

You nodded. “As a matter of fact, he did. We're having lunch together at the park down the street tomorrow.”

Skyler wiggled her eyebrows. “Ooh, a picnic lunch. How romantic.”

“He also said that the restaurant got a boost in reservations yesterday.”

Skyler huffed out a relieved breath. “Oh, good. I know Foggy had been worried about that.”

“Matt too.” You thought about telling Skyler what Matt had suspected regarding Kingpin's health inspection records, but decided to keep it to yourself until you knew if there was actually any weight to it. “I was thinking about picking up some dinner from Daredevil tonight but I don't want to bother him, especially if they're extra busy.”

Skyler shrugged. “How about drinks after work instead? We can hit up happy hour at that new library-themed bar near my place, fill up on wine and appetizers, gossip about our guys.”

You nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like fun.”

“Okay, great. I've got to go cover the Rotary Club’s monthly luncheon, but I'll be back in a few hours.”

“Okay.” You winked. “Don’t have too much fun.”

Skyler shook her head with a smile. “It’ll be a struggle, but I’ll try.”

You grinned as Skyler headed out on assignment. Last week may have been a shit show, but this one was definitely looking up.

#lotmf writes #Mise en Place masterlist #Chef! Matt Murdock x Reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you

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dystopicjumpsuit · 9 months

Text

Promises and Pastry

Rating: T / SFW (whaaaaat?!)

Pairing: Jango Fett x Baker Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.3k

Summary: On your way to work, you stumble upon an adorable two-year-old Boba Fett, who wandered away from the bounty hunter Jango entrusted with his care. Wholesome, tooth-rotting fluff ensues. Feat. Jango Fett being a sexy single dad.

A/N: I wrote this for Father's Day. This is the last AO3 work that I needed to migrate to Tumblr, so DJ's Great Fic Migration is now complete 🖤

Warnings: fluff; canon-typical violence

Suggested listening:

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Boba Fett sits in a rundown cantina, waiting for his contact to show. The place is an absolute dive, but not even close to the worst he’s seen. The jukebox is playing an old, old song—some sentimental Arcadian jazz ditty about a lost love. The music is incongruous with the dingy setting, but something about the melody tugs at his subconsciousness. It makes him think of warm, soft arms; a gentle voice; the mouthwatering scent of freshly baked bread. Is it a memory or a dream? He can’t tell.

He finishes his drink and pushes the intrusive thoughts away, then orders another round as he waits for his new employer.

The air is crisp in the predawn hours, and only the dim glow of street lamps illuminates your path as you walk to work. Your mind is caught up with the tasks ahead of you: baking the para rolls, ryshcates, and buttersweet puffs that you assembled the previous day; mixing up tomorrow’s batches of dough; topping up the caf supplies before your barista arrives—and all of this needs to happen before you even open the shop for the day. The bakery has always been your dream, and it’s worth the early mornings to finally have a place of your own.

You are almost to the shop when you hear a strange sound. A small, distressing whimper that echoes clearly through the early-morning silence. You scan the area. Bar’leth is a Core World: a safer planet than some, but your bakery is located near one of the seedier areas. It’s an unfortunate tradeoff for the low cost of rent. You don’t see any obvious threats, but you clutch your satchel a little closer to your body, just in case. The cry comes again, and you increase your pace, eyes darting up and down the street. And then you see the source.

A tiny, weeping child huddles on the walkway. He can’t be more than two or three years old.

“Oh, my stars,” you whisper as you hurry over to him. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

He looks up at you, wet tears clinging to his eyelashes. An adorable mop of dark curls tumbles around his face, and his tragic, golden eyes break your heart. He holds his hands up to you, and without a second thought, you scoop him up.

“Where are your parents, darling?” you ask, looking around the deserted street.

He wails something incoherent and buries his face in your shoulder. There is no sign of another living being anywhere. You rub his back consolingly and whisper gentle reassurances. Your heart has already made the decision before your mind can catch up: you can’t leave him out here. Settling him more securely in your arms, you hurry the last couple of blocks to your bakery and let yourself inside, locking the door behind you.

You flip on the lights in the kitchen, and the child ceases his wailing and takes a few shuddering gulps. You check him for injuries and find none; it seems he was merely, understandably, frightened. He peers around the bakery curiously.

“Are you thirsty?” you ask.

He nods, so you pour him a glass of water. He gulps it down while you turn on the oven, watching you with fascinated, intelligent eyes. He sloshes a bit of water on you, and you wonder how you are going to manage your workload with one hand occupied holding him. Just then, he spots a tray of day-old pastries.

“I’m hungry,” he says.

You’re relieved that he speaks Basic. Hopefully that means he can tell you where to find his parents. Your commercial kitchen is not exactly a welcoming environment for a toddler, but you set him down on a footstool and bring him a scone—the plainest one you can find, without too much sugar. Force knows the last thing you need is a toddler on a sugar high bouncing around your kitchen while you try to work.

You introduce yourself and ask, “What’s your name?”

“Boba,” he replies around a mouthful of scone. He has crumbs all over his face already; it’s impressive how quickly he made the mess.

“Boba, do you know where your parents are?”

“Dada went to work.”

“Where does your dad work?” you ask as you tie on your apron.

He shakes his head, and tears well in his eyes again. You feel something tug in your chest, and you blink back tears of your own. You’ve always been a sympathetic cryer, but your heart would have to be made of stone to not be moved by Boba’s woeful expression.

“It’s all right,” you soothe him, crouching down to brush those long curls out of his eyes. “You can stay here with me. We’ll find your dad, I promise.”

He nods with a sniffle, and then dives forward into your arms. You squeeze him tightly to you, then settle him onto your hip and get to work. Luckily, the trays are small enough that you can manage them with only one hand, but eventually, you need both hands to work. You start to shift Boba, and you realize he’s fallen asleep against you. It is far from ideal, so you retrieve a large cushion from the front of the house and set it up out of the way in the kitchen. You lay the boy gently down and get to work, amazed that he can sleep through your racket, but then again, it’s only four o’clock in the morning.

He sleeps for hours, and once you’ve finished prepping the next day’s goods, you change out of your utilitarian apron into the pretty, frilly one you wear when you’re running the register. You hear the back door open, and you turn to see your barista, Siero, staring at the sleeping child.

“What. is. that?” she asks.

“And good morning to you, too,” you say.

“Did you steal that child?” she asks suspiciously.

You roll your eyes. “No, I didn’t steal him. He was wandering alone outside the bakery. I brought him inside so he’d be safe until I can find his parents.”

“Have you checked the Holonet to see if anyone has reported him missing?” Siero asks, ever practical.

“Not yet,” you admit. “I’ve been busy getting ready to open.”

Siero pulls out her datapad and runs a quick search. “Nothing so far,” she says with a frown. “I hope you don’t expect me to watch him.”

“Of course not,” you say. “I’ll take care of him. Maybe his parents will come in. If they don’t, I’ll get in touch with the Children’s Wellness Department after we close up for the day.”

Siero shrugs and pulls on her apron. “Well, I always said you could run this place blindfolded with your hands tied. Looks like I’m about to find out.”

Boba continues to sleep as the first wave of customers makes its way through the shop. Fortunately, there’s a lull by the time he wakes up, and you’re able to take a break and sit with him at one of the tables as he eats a pedunkee mufkin and drinks a cup of hot chocolate that Siero makes for him. After that, you work the register with one hand while you carry him on your opposite hip.

He’s a sweet boy, polite and well-mannered, and your customers are enchanted with him. They are not the only ones; you can feel yourself growing attached, even as you remind yourself how utterly foolish it is to do so. He starts to echo you every time you thank a customer for their business.

“Thank you, come back soon,” he calls, beaming a delighted grin when you laugh.

All too soon, it’s time to close up for the day. Siero heads home, and you flip the Open sign over to Closed as you begin cleaning the bakery. You turn on your favorite old-timey Arcadian jazz music and set Boba down as you sweep the floors, wipe down the tables, and clear out the display case. He follows behind you, eager to help, and you end up swooping him up and dancing with him to the music as he shrieks and giggles with joy.

Ten hours earlier

Jango Fett limps onto the Slave I, lugging a gory bag containing the severed head of his bounty. It had been a brutal hunt—far more difficult than he’d anticipated. He should never have brought Boba with him this time. But by the time he had tracked his target to Bar’leth, it was too late to return the boy to the safety of Kamino. Instead, he’d entrusted him to the care of his not-quite-friend, sometimes-hunting-partner, Mado Kena. The Rodian had not exactly been delighted to be stuck with babysitting duty, and Jango wasn’t thrilled at the idea of leaving Boba in his care, either, but he hadn’t had much choice.

He’d tracked the bounty for hours and finally cornered him in a gambling den. It hadn’t gone well. The man fought back viciously, and Jango took a blaster bolt to his leg. Ultimately, he had killed the bastard. The bounty is lower for his corpse, but still worth enough to cover expenses.

He can’t wait to get off this rock. He hisses with pain as he climbs the ramp to his ship and tosses the bag into the conservator.

“Mado, I’m back,” he calls.

There is no response. The kriffer is probably holed up in his bunk. Jango pounds on the door.

“Mado, wake up, it’s time to go.”

There is no sound from the Rodian. With an exasperated sigh, Jango hits the control panel, and the door slides open. The bunk is empty. Jango stares at it for a moment, then whirls to check his own bunk. It is also empty. Cursing, he runs through the ship, checking every cubby and nook large enough to hold a toddler.

“Boba! Boba, where are you?” he calls, his voice ragged and urgent.

He comms Mado, but there is no response. Gritting his teeth, he calibrates his vambrace to track the comlink. Mado hasn’t gone far, and Jango immediately sets out to find him. His leg screams with agony, but there is no time to stop and apply bacta. He pushes through the pain, and soon tracks Mado to a squalid cantina. The hunter is passed out on one of the tables, and there is no sign of Boba.

Jango seizes Mado by his shirt and drags him to his feet. The hunter startles awake and thrashes in Jango’s grasp. The acrid scent of cheap whiskey oozes from his green skin.

“Where is my son?” Jango growls.

“Wha—what?” Mado stutters, blinking his star-flecked eyes with confusion.

“Where is Boba?” Jango’s voice is hoarse with rage and fear.

“He was just here,” Mado says as he claws at Jango’s fists to try to break his grip. “I got thirsty, so I came over for a drink. I brought him with me, I swear!”

Jango shoves the hunter back down into his seat and whirls to face the bartender. “Have you seen a little boy? He’s only two. Dark hair, brown skin.”

The bartender shrugs. “Sorry, bud, that Rodian was here when I started my shift. Didn’t see a kid with him.”

“Karabast,” Jango spits, rounding on Mado. “If any harm has come to him, there will be no place in this galaxy where you can hide.”

The Rodian cowers, and Jango strides out of the cantina, tracking the most important target of his life.

Not many things frighten Jango Fett, but as he chases through the night, his heart pounds, his stomach churns, his gloves grow damp with sweat. The darkness gives way to dawn, and then to the harsh light of morning, and still he hunts. He searches endlessly, desperately, sweeping the seedy district and working his methodical way outward into the fringes of respectable neighborhoods. There is no sign of his son, and panic claws at his throat.

By the time the sun is high overhead, Jango is near despair. He stops to rest his throbbing leg, leaning against a building as he gasps with pain. A flash of movement in his peripheral vision catches his attention, and he turns. Across the street is a quaint little shop with a cheerful sign that reads BAKERY, and through the large windows, he sees a woman twirling with a young child. Jango stiffens.

Boba.

He launches away from the wall and storms across the street, slamming the bakery door open with a shout. “Boba!”

You scream and cower away, shielding the boy with your body. Jango stalks toward you, a huge and intimidating figure in Mandalorian armor.

“Please don’t hurt us!” you cry. “I haven’t cleared the till yet. You can take all the credits, just please, please don’t hurt him.”

Jango skids to a halt. “Hurt him?”

“He’s just a child,” you beg. “Please.”

Jango raises his hands slowly, telegraphing that he’s not a threat. Currently. He breaks the seal on his helmet and removes it, setting it on the table next to him.

“My name is Jango Fett. Boba is my son,” he says.

Your terrified gaze darts to his face. Your hand is cupping Boba’s head protectively, but the boy twists in your arms when he hears his father’s voice.

“Dada!” Boba shrieks, pushing away from you.

You set the boy down with obvious reluctance, and he runs to Jango, who scoops him up into a tight embrace. He clutches Boba to his chest as he examines him for injuries.

“How did he come to be wandering the streets alone in the middle of the night?” you ask, more than a hint of judgment in your tone.

“My friend was supposed to be watching him while I was at work,” Jango replied. “Former friend, I reckon. I’ve been searching for him for hours.”

Boba is babbling happily. You can only understand about half of what he says, but Jango listens gravely to the boy.

“Is that so?” he asks. He shifts his attention to you, and you swallow nervously under the intensity of his scrutiny. “He says you gave him hot chocolate.”

You feel a hot flush wash over you at the disapproval you infer from his words. “Well, it was either that or caf, and I didn’t want to see what would happen if we gave a toddler a double shot of espresso.”

“Thank you for taking care of him,” he says, and his voice is filled with so much relief that you soften instantly.

“I’m glad you found him. He’s a sweet boy.” After a moment’s hesitation, you speak again. “Would you like something to eat? I’ve just closed up for the day, but we have a few things left.”

Jango looks surprised at your offer, but he accepts gladly. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

You pull together an assortment of savory and sweet pastries: a vagnerian canapé, a water-chicken meat pie, a tal-toori, and dameapple turnover. Then you brew a large cup of caf and set it all on the table for him. He has collapsed into one of your big, comfortable armchairs, and Boba is resting against his armored chest. Without his helmet, you can see that he is remarkably handsome, and you smile at the way he rests his cheek on his son’s riotous curls. He looks exhausted; deep circles carved under his eyes—eyes that are exactly the same beautiful, rich brown as Boba’s—and there is a shadow of stubble on his jaw. The Arcadian jazz continues to play, and you pick up your broom to continue cleaning as Jango eats. Boba calls out your name and reaches for you.

“No, Boba,” Jango chides. “Leave the pretty lady alone. She has work to do.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, holding out your arms to Boba.

Jango shrugs and hands his son back to you so he can attack his plate in earnest. You dance as you work, much to Boba’s delight. Jango watches you, admiring the way your body sways to the music. He isn’t blind; he can see that you are a beautiful woman, and he takes a moment to appreciate the way a few strands of hair have worked themselves free from your simple bun to curl in a halo around your face. He realizes that he’s been holding a pastry halfway to his mouth as he watches you twirl and play with his son. He crams the rest hastily into his mouth and takes a long drink of caf to wash it down.

The food is good. Delicious, actually. He’s been eating ration bars for weeks, and he’s almost forgotten what real food tastes like. The warm light of the early afternoon spills into the bakery and bathes the room in a tranquil golden haze. He notices now that there are cheerful vases of fresh flowers on each table, and a low shelf full of books against one wall.

Kriff, he’s so tired. He stretches his legs out gingerly, feeling the ache of his blaster wound. He leans back in the soft chair, just for a moment. Just to rest his leg before making the long walk back to the Slave I.

You finish cleaning the bakery and get everything staged for the next morning, and when you and Boba return to the front of house, you find Jango asleep in your armchair. You finally get a good look at him without feeling quite so awkward and intimidated. He looks younger; his guarded expression relaxes into softness. His head is tilted back, leaving the thick, brown column of his throat exposed. His shoulders are impressively broad, and while some of that bulk is clearly due to his armor, you suspect that most of it is just Jango.

With a tiny smile, you retrieve a picture book from your shelf and settle into another armchair with Boba on your lap. The boy snacks on the leftover scraps from his father’s plate, even though you offer to get him a plate of his own. You read to him until he falls asleep, cuddled safely in your arms.

Jango lurches awake, staring wildly around him, his body tensed for violence. He’s disoriented for a moment, but then he sees you, curled up in an armchair across from him, Boba nestled securely against you. Both of you are fast asleep. He stands, flexing his leg experimentally. He’s not sure how long he was out, but judging by the angle of the sun, it’s been a few hours. He crosses to your armchair and gazes down at you and Boba. Something like tenderness is in his eyes as he smooths your hair out of your face.

Your eyes flutter open at his touch, and you smile up at him drowsily.

“I need to get going,” he says quietly, careful not to wake his son.

You nod your understanding and rise to your feet. He takes Boba and settles him against his shoulder. You help him put on his helmet, and he presses his free fist to his chest in a gesture of respect, careful not to jostle the boy.

“Thank you again,” he says sincerely. “For everything.”

“Of course,” you say. “Tell Boba to come visit me again sometime.”

“He’d like that,” Jango says.

You walk him to the door and watch as he and Boba disappear down the streets of Bar’leth, and as you stand alone in your bakery, the music continues to play.

“Boba Fett?” a man asks. He is wearing civilian clothes, but the stick up his ass has Boba willing to bet a thousand credits that he’s Imperial military.

Boba nods his head.

“The very man I was hoping to find," the man says. His clipped, affected Coruscanti accent grates on Boba's temper."The Empire requires your service. I’m to deliver you personally to Lord Vader’s ship.”

Boba finishes his drink and wordlessly follows the man, and the song plays on in the empty cantina.

---

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