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merlot-and-chardonnay · 2 months

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What Could Have Been and What Will Be

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra) x Aegon II Targaryen

A very long drabble based on the works of @maidragoste and her series The Queen and Her Husbands.

I love this series and I asked the account who gave me permission to write a one-shot for the reader and her husbands Aemond and Aegon. If you like this story, or if you don't, but still want to read the series, I encourage you all to go do so and to support the writer's content.

Summary: Aemond and Aegon spend the morning in bed with you, their wife who is six moons pregnant with Aegon's child; Aegon wakes to see Aemond relishing in your condition and a conversation ensues as a result.

Mostly fluff, though brief elusions to the Blood and Cheese event (spoilers from Fire and Blood and possibly HotD season 2), and maybe some implications of suggestive content along the way.

The sun was just starting to rise by the time Aemond was roused from deep sleep. The prince made a deep sigh and nuzzled his wife's neck, relishing in your warmth as you slept.

Aemond wrapped an arm around you, going stiff for a brief moment when he felt another hand wrapped you. He opened his eye to see his brother snuggled next to you on the other side, his face nuzzled against your breasts, a content smile on his face.

Admittedly this used to bother Aemond at first, when you insisted your share a bed with the men you love, being your husbands that is. Now the prince didn't mind as much; if anything, Aemond found the bed was actually colder without Aegon to cuddle with the both of you at nights. This was certainly something Aemond never imagined he would've ever enjoyed doing with his brother of all things.

Such feelings have only intensified when the maesters had made the official announcement to confirm that you were with child...Aegon's child.

Even though the maesters and Alicent had done their best to assure the nobles at court that Aegon was indeed the father, there was still speculation that you had been spending nights with Aemond; therefore, no one could know for certain if Aegon even was the father of your next child. In truth, you had been visiting Aemond at nights, via the secret tunnels in the Holdfast, when you were supposedly sharing a bed with Aegon, though the two of you were careful in making sure there was no intercourse when you and Aemond pleasured one another in bed.

Now that the pregnancy was confirmed- now that it was made certain you were carrying the king's child- there was no longer any need to sneak around, and you could share a bed with both of your husbands, paying no heed to how this would look to anyone else at court (Alicent had certainly thrown a fit at first, saying it was not decent, but she has made her peace and learned to accept that this is the way things are to be with her surviving children).

Neither brother was overly ecstatic about sleeping in the same bed at first, but if it made you happy, they were more than willing to at least tolerate each other and compromise for the sake of your happiness.

So here you were now, secure in your husbands warmth as you continued to sleep.

Aemond moved his own hand away from Aegon's finding he was pressing it against your bump that was six moons along with your pregnancy. Your second pregnancy ever...but your very first one with Aegon. In the early stages, Aemond had imagined he wasn't going to be this invested in your condition; in fact, the prince had expected on some level he was going to resent it all, the fact that his wife was with child again but he was not father.

However, as you had grown further along, as your baby bump became more visible, Aemond began to realize he relished in seeing you begin to glow with motherhood, enjoy it even. It was moments such as these were Aemond was most at peace, giving him hope for their future together, for the realm, and for their family and its continuing legacy. This was a symbol of hope for the remaining Targaryens and the realm that they could heal from the past war and move forward to a brighter future.

Being lost in thought, mindlessly rubbing your bump, Aemond didn't notice his brother begin to stir from sleep as well; he didn't see it coming when he felt Aegon's hand lightly brush over his. The prince looked to see his brother had his own hand placed against your bump as well. He looked up to see Aegon's eyes were open, albeit sleepily, indicating he was still waking up.

The king had a indecipherable smile on his face the moment he made eye contact with his brother.

"Oh, look at you, brother," Aegon spoke, voice still rugged from sleep, "I never would've expected this from you of all people." "Expect what?" Aemond frowned a bit. "This," Aegon gestures with his head in a lazy manner, "you being...soft. I never would have expected something like that from you."

Aemond felt his face heat up a little from this observation. Sure, the prince may come off as standoff-ish, especially where the court was concerned, but the prince did have his soft moments in private, especially where the women in his life were concerned, his mother, his late sister, his young niece, and now his wife.

Rather than get defensive about it, Aemond grumbled a little and hid his face against your neck, something Aegon lightly chuckled at.

Aegon continued to rub your bump in a loving manner, and it didn't go unnoticed in the way Aemond was repeated those actions, as both brothers kept an eye on their sleeping wife in case you were to wake; they hoped you would continue to get as much rest as you could with your present condition.

"...Does it bother you?" Aegon decides to ask, seemingly to no one, but Aemond knew he was the one that question was directed at. "Does what bother me?" "This?" Aegon gestures to your bump, "her being with child. That child...being mine? Does it bother you. You don't have to answer, I was just curious."

Aemond had to think about it for a moment. It wasn't as simple as answering yes or no. But Aemond remembered the agreement he and Aegon had made with you earlier in this relationship, that there wouldn't be any secrets from one another, that you and them would be transparent in your feelings to one another, to this relationship, and to speak up if one was feeling left out in this marriage.

"...it did bother me at first," Aemond admits, "but now, I find myself actually liking it." "Oh?" "I...I didn't get to do this before," Aemond continues, surprised he could have confess something so vulnerable to his brother, "when (y/n) was pregnant with Aemon and Baelon. I wasn't there for her during the war, during....my time in Harrenhal. I didn't get to see her grow with our sons, I didn't get to feel the babes kick in her belly I...I missed out all these little moments with the twins. Now that she is with child again, I feel as if I have been given a second chance, to be with her this time around."

Aemond waited for Aegon to say something, though he wasn't sure what to expect. In the past, he would have expected his brother to say something crude or mock him in some way. Now, he wasn't so sure how Aegon was going to respond to something so emotionally raw.

"If it makes you feel better, I saw (y/n) being pregnant with your sons as my second chance," Aegon admitted, which took Aemond by surprise. "What do you mean?" "...I wasn't there for Helaena when she was pregnant with our children," Aegon admits, "I...I was not the best husband to her. I may not have loved her in that way, the way I love (y/n), but I still could have been there for her in this fragile state. I wasn't there for Helaena when I should have. But I was there for (y/n), it gave me the chance to be there for someone in our family who needed that kind of support."

This confession definitely perplexed Aemond to a certain degree. He knew damn well how Aegon handled Helaena's pregnancies, he was there to see how it went. Hells, Aemond was the one who was there for his sister when Aegon wasn't, and it did anger him that Aegon couldn't have been bothered. He didn't, however, realize up until now this was something Aegon had come to regret.

"A son will be expected you know," Aemond informs his brother, rubbing your baby bump, "at least that is what mother says." "I'm not sure I want a son," Aegon admits, mimicking his brother's actions, "I want it to be another daughter, like Jaehaera." Aemond frowned a bit at that confession, which didn't go unnoticed by Aegon, "Part of me worries that what happened to Jaehaerys...and also to Maelor, I worry that a similar fate will befall this little one should it be a boy."

Aemond felt he understood. It made him realize how much the Blood and Cheese tragedy effected his brother. He knew how it affected Helaena on an intrinsic level, but it didn't occur to him how much Aegon would have been grieving over the loss of his son...both of his sons. It was, after all, why Aegon had Rhaenyra executed in the first place, to avenge his oldest son. It was part of why Aemond confronted Daemon over the God's Eye to avenge the death of his nephew.

Aemond then placed his own hand over Aegon's, right over the spot he was rubbing on your swollen baby, "We'll make sure that will never happen," he assures, "never again. We'll all make certain this child will be safe and grow into the future king or queen they are meant to be. We'll make certain this child is loved and cared for. We won't make the mistakes we made in the past, nor will we repeat the mistakes our own parents made."

Aegon nods, a silent acceptance of this vow. They will be there for this child, and for the rest of their surviving children as well.

Right then, both brothers felt the babes' kick against your belly, taking them both by surprise. Aegon couldn't help but smile at that, "it appears this little one has been listening in on our conversation." "Must appear to agree," Aemond smiles back as Aegon presses a kiss where the babe kicked.

The babe kicked once again at that.

Right at that moment, you began to stir from sleep. You rub your swollen belly, right where the babe had kicked. You open your eyes to see both your husbands were already awake.

"Good morning, dear husbands," you say as you stretch and stifle a yawn. "Good morning," Aegon says, "Did we wake you?" "Not at all," you assure moving to lay on your back, attempting to sit up, but having some trouble. Aemond gave a helping hand there. "If anything, this little one was the one to decide when my rest was over."

Both your husbands chuckled at that statement. You have been noticing lately since they both started sharing a bed with you, they've been agreeing on lot more things, which included your attempts at humor.

"Have the two of you been up for long?" "Not too long," Aemond assures. "Just enough to have a conversation," Aegon adds. "What kind of conversation?" you asks.

Aegon and Aemond just exchange a knowing look before Aemond made the answer, "we have decided we are both excited for this little one to come into this world soon." "They will be loved and well cared for...and protected by those who would wish them harm," Aegon adds, placing a hand on your bump. You place a hand over his, which was then covered by Aemond's hand.

"Yes..." you speak, "they will be loved and protected...they are the future of this family."

The three of you laid there for a little while longer enjoying the silence, you unaware of what was spoken between your husbands earlier when you were asleep.

That it had reached an unspoken conclusion that for better or for worse, they were all in this together...they would be together to raise whatever children you will have with them, no matter who the father was.

#hotd #aemond targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #the queen and her husbands #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #I really did ask permission to write this piece for another person's series I swear #I hope I did it justice #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader

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disneyprincemuke · 2 months

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what if i told you that i've fallen? * ls2

[part one out of eight]

and what do you do when you fall in love with the person you swear is your best friend in the entire world?

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: u don't have to be acquainted with the original series to read and enjoy this i promise there's context here like i swear i swear i-

this is also A STANDALONE FIC OK THIS Is juST THEIR MEGA TIMELINE FIC WHERE whaT IF i entertained the idea of them ending up together xoxo <3

wc: 6.2k

(series masterlist) | (through the years)

2020

girls and guys can always be just friends for the rest of their lives. realistically, it isn’t that difficult to prove it: her friendship with oscar has always been the one remaining evidence that it is possible. and for years, her friendship with logan also told everyone that the phenomenon of ‘opposite gender friendships are impossible’ is simply a lie.

that was when she stepped out of her university campus one evening: a breeze blew her hair back, stray leaves swirling on the ground as logan leaned against the hood of his car. she felt her heart drop to her stomach when he looked up from his phone to smile at her.

suddenly her best friend didn’t seem like much of a best friend anymore. suddenly, she got giddy at the thought of sitting in the passenger side of his car; blushing when he put a hand on the back of the headrest as he reversed the car out of their parking spot. all of the things that he does have got a deeper meaning to them — is he doing that mindlessly or is she crazy to think that he could possibly feel the same?

truthfully, she has no idea where the feelings came from. up to now, she’d only ever seen logan as a best friend with whom she had several things in common. not to forget 1 of the 2 people who drove her around in their fancy cars whenever she needed them to. and not only that, one of the kids her parents let stay with them in their house during times they had to spend apart from their families back home.

“hey, feeling alright?” oscar elbows her gently.

the girl perks up slightly, turning to him with a wide smile as she blinks rapidly. “yeah, why do you ask?” she follows his gaze down to the untouched cup of mojito sitting on the table. she meets his eyes again with a sheepish laugh. “i just don’t really feel like drinking tonight.”

the sheer thought of having feelings deeper than the surface level for logan was enough to make her stomach churn.

oscar raises his eyebrow, glancing at the mojito again. “i don’t believe that.”

“i swear!” she shrieks, eyes widening as she waves oscar’s concerns away. “i’m just not feeling the club at all, actually.”

“really? but you’re usually in your element when we go clubbing,” oscar frowns, taking the mojito into his hands and starting to drink it immediately. it’s odd that she’s not out on the dance floor, creating a small dance party with random goers. “is something wrong? you can talk to me.”

she looks over her shoulder as the sight of her best friend on the dance floor with another girl greets her once more. it’s only complicated because she got him that girl the minute they stepped into the club. it’s what logan always teases her about being able to score him dates and girls even better than he could all by himself. she has this way of talking him up where girls immediately fall for him. it’s a power, even.

he praises her for that all the time.

as much as she’s convinced that this crush would never develop into something more than it is, it worries her. this one is different. she knows by heart because she’s never been kept up all night by anything before — not even her toughest days in school had gotten her this stressed.

racing, maybe, but nothing else.

and she knows she can’t talk to oscar about this. so she takes a deep breath and shakes her head again. “it’s nothing. i think i’ll just order some bar food.” she scooches out of their booth. “do you want any?”

“i’m alright, mate,” oscar grins. he waves goodbye to her, watching her disappear into the crowd. he turns to lily. “did you notice that? she was acting weird, wasn’t she? it’s not just me?”

lily nods, taking a sip from the mojito that the young girl left behind. “it is. we should try and figure that out soon before it gets bad.”

logan couldn’t tell you when he started seeing his best friend as more than just a friend. it came randomly.

the last time he remembered feeling normal about her was the night they all slept in his room the night before her first race in formula 3. someone was shivering and it sure as hell was not the guy sleeping next to him on the other bed with a blanket strewn over his shoulders tightly. when he sat up, he snorted when he saw the younger girl curled up into a ball as her teeth softly chattered.

he sighed as he got up to his feet, picking up the blankets that she’d conveniently kicked down to the ground sometime during her slumber. he would never have noticed if he hadn’t stepped on it, her stuffed animal lying on the ground, abandoned and betrayed by her after she discarded everything on the bed with her initially.

he remembers that he laughed as he lifted her arm, placing the stuffed animal under her arms. and he thought that she looked so adorable nuzzling her cheek into the plushie, falling into an even deeper sleep.

what got him was when he laid the blanket over her. she pulled the blankets around herself a little tighter, smiling in satisfaction as she felt her body start to warm up. “thanks,” she whispered before abruptly snoring again.

he felt his heart go heavy at the sight, thumping against his chest as she sighed heavily. suddenly his head starts to spin and he feels something he’s never really felt for anyone before.

and, oh, god. he needs to sit down.

he sat at the edge of her bed, scratching his head as both of his friends slept. he looked over at her and felt something tugging at his heart and he knew instantly that it was over for him and the way he looked at her.

he thought it was just a fleeting crush and something that would eventually go away. but it’s been 2 weeks and he still hasn’t been able to push away the nagging feeling in his chest. everything just leads back to the girl with the seemingly brightest smile and most hypnotising eyes.

it wasn’t long until he felt like he could burst from the way he felt. which is why he’s now sitting opposite oscar, at brunch, while they wait for her and lily to arrive from stopping by at a bakery not too far away. he’s bearing holes into oscar’s head, waiting to catch his attention, but the australian seems to be too caught up with what’s on his phone than his friend quietly breaking down across the table.

“oscar,” logan finally says, hand darting out to try and catch his attention. “mate, i need to tell you something. it’s important.”

“oh, you never really have anything serious to say.” oscar puts his phone down on the table, pressing his lips together. he folds his arms and leans on the table. “did you do something bad again? you have to tell her dad this time, i can’t keep doing that for you, mate.”

“no, no,” logan sighs, shaking his head. “i’m serious. this is serious. like, you can’t tell lily at all.”

“wha–“

“i know you tell lily everything, no shame in that. but you really cannot tell her this one.”

oscar furrows his eyebrows. “you’re kind of scaring me. how serious is this thing you’ve done?”

“insanely serious.” logan puts his palm on the table. “mate, i think i’m in love.”

out of all the girls that logan has ever been with, he’s never once said that he’s in love. or at least said it out loud. if oscar is hearing about it for the first time since they met years ago, logan must be pretty serious about this.

logan’s just never been the type to commit to anyone, more or less ever claiming that he is in love with any of the girls that he’s gone out on a date with.

oscar looks around, worried that the girls may have already arrived and overheard his friend. “you’ve never ever said that before. are you serious?” logan nods. “like for real, serious? you’re sure about this girl?”

“that’s the thing.” logan starts to play with the menu, opening and closing it as he tries to play off the severity of his feelings. “i don’t know. but it’s been bugging me for weeks now. i can’t get her out of my head.”

“it must be serious if this has been going on for weeks,” oscar scoffs with a small smile. “how long have you known her?”

logan contemplates telling oscar the truth. will oscar ever slip up and tell her about his feelings? and what will happen if it changes everything and he loses his best friends? literally, the people he knows are his ride-or-die.

“you have no idea the severity. it’s–“

“why are you hunched over whispering like a bunch of schoolgirls with gossip?” she snorts, patting logan on the shoulder as she slots herself in the empty spot next to him in the booth. “anything to tell me?”

logan shakes his head, moving in further to give her the spot. “nope, nothing.”

without anything said, oscar feels like logan’s already told him everything. typically, she’s always in the knows of anything feelings-related, or anything that has to do with a crush. and he knows logan doesn’t mind that lily knows. the arrows are only pointing at one possible person present in the room.

but it can’t be. they’re all best friends.

“ah, keeping secrets now, i see,” she hums, narrowing her eyes down into a suspicious stare.

“way to hold it against me, mate,” logan scoffs, picking up the menu from the table. he glances at oscar across the table who raises his eyebrows at him.

logan, already knowing that he’s caught on, just nods in devastation. in a way that oscar’s never seen him before and that in itself is concerning.

the feeling never stops gnawing at her when she lies awake at night in her bed. she tosses and turns for hours, biting her fingernails as she tugs on her hair in frustration.

her lock screen, a picture of the 3 of them at a track from just a couple of days ago, consumes her. she’s come to overanalyse everything: his hand placements in pictures, their text messages, the way he speaks to her, everything that he does seems to mean more than it used to. and it should not be this way at all.

he is her best friend, after all. and what would she know about crushes and love? she could have been a small percentage of the population that grew up without really having one. it’s not something she concerned herself about over the years.

of course, she allowed herself that one boyfriend when she was 16. but even now she knows that that was not love.

could this be love? surely not — not with her best friend.

not with the boy who moved into her house when she was 13 to live with them for some months of the year, then leaving to spend the holidays with his family in florida. it’s not fair that she is consumed whole by the thought of being his girl.

because when you grow up alongside people, you tend to know the worst side of them. especially when you live together.

but why is it that, as aware as she is of logan’s flaws and everything that made girls want to walk away, she still longs to have him all to herself?

she hears his voice mixed with oscar’s from the next room over. it seems that they are also kept up by something that doesn’t seem to concern her. should she join them for another sleepless night like she typically does?

but it seems to be almost crossing the line of the boundaries of late night conversations they seem to be having. she hums, dropping her phone next to her head as she rolls over to lie on her back.

she looks up at the ceiling and tries to map the past couple of years and how it’s led her here. her heart thumps in her chest as she thinks of the green eyes that have captivated her lately, breathing shakily as the urge to stare into it at this very moment grows.

but she doesn’t know that in the next room over, the older boy feels the same way about her. technically, all her tossing and turning, fears of losing him over feelings that are slowly festering in her gut, are all for nothing. because if she got up right now and just laid it all out for him, he would be okay with it. he’d welcome it with open arms.

not knowing if he feels the same is what scares her the most.

a knock on the door makes her jump, sitting up dishevelled as she turns her attention to the door. she should be asleep for her classes tomorrow — which she would have been if logan hadn’t taken up every inch of space in her mind — so if that’s a test from her parents, it’s over for her.

“it’s us.”

she scrambles out of bed, keeping her footsteps soft to avoid the notion of announcing that she’s out of bed. when she opens the door, it’s come to her surprise that they’re wearing jackets and pants. oscar holds up his car keys with a small grin. “we’re hungry.”

“i’ve got classes tomorrow,” she says in a whisper as she avoids logan’s stare that’s boring holes into her skull.

logan shrugs. “and you’re still awake,” he’s the first to walk towards the stairs and beckons his two friends to follow him, “come on, we were craving ice cream. thank god you’re awake.”

she looks down at herself, in her pyjamas and then glances over at her friends with furrowed eyebrows. “i’m not dressed to head out. could you give me like 5 minutes to change at least?”

“no time for that,” oscar frowns, “do you wanna get caught?”

“besides, i brought an extra jacket for you. your mum would flip if she sees one of your jackets was used, no?” logan stops at the top of the stairs, holding up one of his smaller jackets in the air to show it to her. “i reckon we should get a move before your parents hear you out of bed, dude.”

she takes a deep breath, her gaze softening at the jacket that’s held in the air. it’s not that cold out, so she would definitely do without a jacket. but the thought of being wrapped in a jacket that belonged to logan — with his smell and the whole shebang — almost brings her to her knees. and going to sleep with his cologne all over her? it’s enough to make a typically emotionless woman cry.

“mate, do you wanna come or not?” oscar whispers, still towering over her at her door.

she nods, slowly closing the door behind her as she tries to run silently to the stairs where logan is. “does it smell like you? cause that would be kind of gross.”

a lie: she literally wants it to smell like him. just so she can have a sliver of what it feels like to be his.

“nope. that’s clean.” logan smiles proudly, holding up the jacket with both hands, opening it wide for her to wear it. while normally it would be an issue if it smelled like logan (which is why he took a fresh jacket out of his closet), it’s all she wants right now — to go to bed smelling like him to replace the emptiness of sleeping by herself.

she slots an arm into the jacket, thanking him softly as she feels her cheeks heat up at the gesture. and this is what it’s like suddenly overthinking every interaction she has with logan. did he always used to do this or is everything amplified by the thought of her heart suddenly beating for him?

did his actions always have this romantic intonation in them and she was too stupid to notice, or has it always been this way?

she freezes as logan circles her, pulling the jacket down her shoulders before he zips it up for her. he tugs on it gently and pats her shoulder. “warm enough? i’ve got a thicker jacket if you need one.”

she shakes her head, eyes wide as she looks up at him. he doesn’t seem to notice; turning towards the stairs to make their way to the car. oscar walks past them and shakes the keys as softly as he can. “let’s go. i’m starving.”

she watches the 2 boys walk down the stairs, frozen in the ground at their interaction. she sucks in a deep breath as she tries to process everything: the way he was so close to her and how his gesture was so familiar yet so unfamiliar at the same time.

“mate, let’s go,” oscar scolds, beckoning her from the bottom of the stairs. “i’ll leave you behind if you’re not down here in the next 15 seconds.”

“okay, be patient!” she squeaks, jumping from her spot to rush towards oscar.

by the door, logan keeps a tight grip on the front door as he can barely glance at her happily jumping down the steps. the sight fills his chest with such warmth that he’s never felt before and even forces a small smile on his face that he doesn’t notice.

the gesture with the jacket took everything of his soul to do. it would be crazy for her not to notice the way his hands shook as he zipped the jacket up for her, his breaths shaking as he stood inches away from her. it’s odd because they’ve spent so many years together yet there is this sudden shyness that he cannot seem to escape.

surely she’s starting to catch on as well, right?

he doesn’t even notice that she’s passed him, muttering ‘shotgun’ as she jogs over to the front seat of the car happily. oscar pats him on the shoulder and shoots him a mean glare to snap him out of his trance.

“if you’re going to be this obvious, i’d be more shocked that she hasn’t caught on yet,” oscar mutters with caution before walking out.

logan drags his feet out of the house, slumping his shoulders when he realises that he has to sit at the back. he just shrugs before oscar opens the door to the driver’s seat. “you and i both, dude.”

“see you later, mate.” logan barely lands a pat on her shoulder before walking away, approaching frederik at the other end of the garage.

she looks at the shoulder that he didn’t even touch before her eyes follow the boy now jogging towards his friend. is she going insane or is logan avoiding her?

since they’d gone and grabbed food together 3 weeks ago, it’s been different. logan’s been speaking to her less, keeping conversations short and he barely even looks her in the eye. she can’t say there’s ever been a time that this has ever happened for this long.

she excused it for logan being busy initially, but 3 weeks is too long.

“hey, are you alright?” mick comes up behind her with a small smile and a hand on her back. “you’ve just been standing there for a good minute by yourself.”

“i’m… do you think i’m annoying?” she whispers, eyes wide as her brain goes at a rate it’s never gone before. she starts walking with mick and looks down, bracing herself for his answer.

“what? why would you say that?” he says softly, tilting his head. “did something happen? another reporter get on your nerves?”

she sighs, shaking her head. she looks over her shoulder again where logan walked off before and sighs again as she meets mick’s eyes momentarily. “no… i don’t know… i feel like oscar and logan are avoiding me.”

mick hums, looking around with eyebrows furrowed. surely she is just overthinking it, right? for as long as he’s known any of them, they’ve been inseparable. he can’t think of a time where either logan or oscar went without mentioning her once in a conversation.

it’s like their worlds revolved around her.

“i don’t know, mate,” mick slings an arm over her shoulder as they talk, “maybe just give it some time? it’s a busy weekend and you know they’re your best friends.”

she shrugs. “i guess you’re right. maybe they’re just busy.”

but she can’t just shake away the feeling of something not being right.

“i’m gonna tell her.”

“are you stupid?”

“what? no.”

“then don’t tell her.”

logan puts his hands on his hips, chewing on the inside of his cheek. he stares at oscar with a bewildered expression. “why not?”

oscar mirrors his expression. how stupid can logan be right now? “if she doesn’t reciprocate, then what are you going to do? we literally live with her. tell me what you’re going to do when you tell her you’re in love with her and she doesn’t feel the same way.”

the american throws his hands into the air. “i’m not in love with her!”

“it doesn’t feel that way lately!”

“i have a small crush on her. doesn’t mean that i’m in love with her, okay? and in my head, if i tell her and she doesn’t feel the same way, then it’ll make it easier to move on.”

“babe, i– crush on who?” lily tilts her head, walking into the room with a curious stare. “logan has a crush on somebody? i swear i had this same conversation speculating just 5 minutes ago.”

oscar turns around wide-eyed at his girlfriend. “nobody.”

logan sighs. “oh, lily’s not stupid. you know who i have a crush on.”

the brit blinks blankly at the 2 boys in the room. “no, i don’t.” she tilts her head as she threads the room cautiously. “am i supposed to kn– no way.”

logan nods. “yes way.”

“and you knew this whole time and you’ve been lying to me?” lily shrieks, smacking oscar’s shoulder. “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“so you could tell her and mess up our dynamic? no way!” oscar scoffs, scratching his head in frustration. “listen, i actually like living in her big house with her family. and i actually also like being best friends with her — she’s nice to me.”

“she’s nice to me too,” logan points out.

“that’s different — you’re actually in love with her.”

“i’m not in love with her!”

“you guys have got to start talking to her again,” lily mutters as she climbs into the backseat of oscar’s car. she inches forward and glances out at the window where the younger girl slowly walks over to them. “you’re killing her.”

logan turns around, shaking his leg as he keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “you’re asking too much of me!”

“i do talk to her!” oscar defends himself, throwing his hands into the air. “but i can’t keep a straight conversation with her without wanting to tell her that our best friend is in love with her!”

the urge to tell her gets worse every single time. she’s just blabbing on all the time oblivious to the fact that their best friend spends countless hours talking about how majestic she is.

“i’m not in love with her!” logan scolds, reaching out to smack oscar on the shoulder. he looks at lily and presses his lips together. “and i try to talk to her, okay? but it’s hard.”

and he really does, but she’s got this need for eye contact when she talks to people; it makes it all the harder not to start rambling about how she’s got him wrapped around her fingers currently. it’s just so unfair how she doesn’t know the effect that she’s got on him.

he can barely keep a conversation with her, his defences crumbling when their eyes meet, stuttering and losing his words. and for a guy like logan, feeling like this for someone is beyond his comprehension. it’s just not something he thinks he can get used to.

“well, you’ve got to keep it together! she’s been really upset lately!” lily mutters, smacking both of their shoulders.

logan sighs. “surely, it’s not that–”

the back door opens and the girl slides into her seat with a polite smile. “hi,” she greets them with a small nod. she doesn’t wait for a response before she puts her airpods in and starts to type away on her phone.

“i told you,” lily mouths to the two boys in the front seats, rolling her eyes as she sits back with her arms folded over her chest.

her jaw drops slightly, eyes watering at the conversation she was definitely not meant to overhear. she steps away from the doorframe she hid behind and slumps her shoulders. "you what?"

the two boys, engaged in a whispering conversation just seconds ago, widen their eyes as they turn their heads to the source of the shocked voice.

she had fallen asleep on her couch as they played video games on the playstation, and they had to have a private conversation about logan’s lingering stares and silent pining.

immediately, logan starts stuttering and flailing his hands around to come up with an excuse for what she could have possibly heard. "i- i mean.. like-"

"the girl you fancy is me?" she asks slowly, then turning to oscar. "and you kept this a secret from me the entire time?"

"no, just let me explain, god," logan smacks his forehead, trying to calm the girl down. "will you listen to me for a second?"

oscar presses his lips together and drops his head in disappointment. "i couldn't tell you. don't be like that."

"you guys made me feel like i was going crazy thinking you didn't wanna be friends with me anymore," she complains, stomping her foot into the ground. "i felt like i didn't even know you guys so well in the past month. i felt like you guys were pushing me away."

"what? no, please just listen to me. this is all my fault."

"i thought you guys didn't even wanna be friends with me anymore. all of that to find out that it's because you just suddenly realised i'm cute?" she bursts, giving logan a look. "seriously? you didn't notice that years ago when we first met?"

oscar lifts his head, his look of disappointment quickly replaced by confusion. logan also drops his hands, head tilting at her response.

he had a list formed of possible ways she could react if his secret ever came out. this was not one of them.

"pardon?"

"we've been friends for so long growing up. you think that i never had a crazy puppy crush on either of you?" she scowls at them, wiping the few tears that managed to escape her eyes. "get a grip, my dudes!"

"what?" logan screams. "you're telling me i've been in over my head for literally nothing because you've had a crush on me too?"

"had?"

"you've got a crush on him right now? and me before?" oscar exclaims in disbelief, pointing at logan. "and we never knew? seriously?"

she shrugs, folding her arms over her chest with a smug smile. "i'm just better at keeping secrets compared to you guys, i guess."

she turns on her heel and walks out of the kitchen. “you’ll get over it. trust me. i’m actually in the process of getting over my crush on you, lo.”

but she’s never been more wrong about anything in her life.

logan leans on his car, elbow propped on the roof of his car and chin in his palm. he taps away on his phone as he lazily enjoys the breeze of oxford while he waits.

“i thought you were going to be late?” she hums, tilting her head as she approaches him. she’s got his jacket around her shoulders and an eye squinted from the sun shining brightly above them. “i took all the time i could walking out of campus.”

he shrugs, pushing himself off the car and slips his phone into his pocket. “traffic cleared up a while back. where’s lily?”

she shrugs back at him with a soft giggle. she jogs over to him and wraps her arms around him momentarily before quickly pulling away. “thanks for picking me up, by the way.”

logan throws his head back with a snort, folding his arms over his chest. “did i have a choice?”

he knew better than to decline her wide eyes asking him to please pick him up from campus after an entire day of classes. that, and that fact that it’s just so difficult to say no to her when it came to things like this.

“very funny,” she laughs with a playful eye roll as she rounds the car to the other side. “lily has something on with another module. let’s head out to dinner, you and i?”

he grins and unlocks his car. “yep. let’s go.”

"what's wrong?" worry paints her face as he starts acting calmer than before. her eyes follow logan's hands, lifted up to her face as he tries to brush back her stray hair behind her ears. "are you alright?"

"have i ever told you," he pauses to trace a line down her cheek with his fingertips, "how pretty you are?"

"only when you're drunk," she whispers back with a playful smile. "did you ingest some kind of poison and you've only got a couple minutes to live? is that why you're like this?"

"no," he shakes his head. a small smile appears on his face, tucking a finger under his chin to lift her eyes up to meet his. "i just think you look very pretty. i don't tell you that often."

she admits she almost felt her knees buckle at his words and melt on the ground at his words. logan had never been a very outwardly affectionate type unless he's drunk, so while this is expected behaviour out of him, it's never gotten quite as intimate as this.

she's had him fall asleep with his head in her lap before on the couch, but never has he been this close to her while whispering sweet words at her.

"it would be weird."

"it shouldn't be."

"logan, are you alright?"

he doesn't respond. and she freezes in her spot when his hand drags along her skin, cupping her cheek as he leans down into her. and he would have done it. he would have kissed her but something stops him.

it could’ve been the sheer reminder that they’re supposed to be just best friends. just that, nothing more and nothing less.

he stops himself right as their noses touch and sighs shakily, holding himself up with a hand on her arm. “i’m sorry.”

she lets out a soft sigh and forces a grin on her face. she grabs his shoulders to stabilise him, “do you need to throw up?”

“i think so,” he mutters with a hand on his chest. he turns to look at her with a heaving chest and puffy lips. “can you help me back to the villa please?”

she chuckles, approaching him with her arms held out. “okay, let’s get you back, mate.”

she stands in front of the bedroom door, stuffed bear in hand with a soft huff as she awaits a response.

the door opens, revealing logan in his pyjamas and dishevelled hair. he blinks for a few moments before realising who’s standing at the door. “oh, hi.”

“i couldn’t sleep,” she sighs softly, pursing her lips and slouching slightly. “can i sleep in oscar’s bed?”

logan blinks. he tries to think of what oscar would say if he consulted the australian about what to say in response to her question.

his heart has a simple answer: yes, let her spend the night in your bedroom. but his mind, clearly going with logic, knows exactly the solution to avoid getting himself into deeper shit: maybe you shouldn’t let her because it will complicate things.

guess which answer logan chooses.

“yeah, of course.” logan takes a step back and beckons her into the room. “what’s wrong? nightmare? watched a horror movie all by yourself again and scared yourself?”

“yeah,” she grins sheepishly, climbing onto oscar’s bed.

lie. she couldn’t fall asleep at the thought of logan and her almost kissing a week ago on their trip to the bahamas. and since oscar’s not here to put a stop to their antics, she did the one thing she knows would put her to sleep, or at least to a calmer state of mind.

“oh, what did you watch?” logan giggles, closing the door behind him. “do you need me to turn the nightlight on again?”

she smiles, shaking her head. “just insidious. i got bored while i was doing my homework.”

“you should really start watching that with someone around,” logan sighs, walking over to his bed on the other side of the room. “you know how insidious gets you all jumpy and weird.”

“yeah, i barely made it to 20 minutes of the movie,” she laughs, sighing as she drops her back on the bed. she pulls the blankets up and tucks herself under them. “anyway, thanks for letting me sleep here tonight.”

“of course, dude.”

logan finds himself at her university campus once more, leaning up against the side of his car as he awaits the girl to meet up with him.

he hears heels clicking against the gravel of the university parking lot, making him raise his head in anticipation with a wide grin.

“aw, happy birthday, dude!” logan cheers, opening his arms to the girl approaching him. “how were your classes?”

she sighs heavily, rolling her eyes. “horrid.”

“you left before oscar and i could make you pancakes for breakfast,” logan frowns, squeezing her slightly as she stumbles into his body. “we’re going to take you out for pancakes instead.”

“wow, pancakes for dinner?” she giggles with a hand on her chest. “how lovely.”

“and ice cream,” logan beams with a grin. he gently reaches forward to take her laptop into his hands along with the bag on her shoulder. “because it’s your birthday–”

“where’s my gift?” she teases, hopping forward to rest her chin on his arm. she looks up at him with puffed cheeks and wide eyes. “you promised me a present this year.”

logan blinks blankly at her. he looks at the way she’s cosied up into his body and then back into her eyes. “it’s with oscar.”

she blinks, taking a step back as she realises how close she’s gotten to him. “so you got me a present? how sweet of you, logan.”

“you threatened me to get you a present,” logan scoffs with a roll of his eyes. he starts laughing along with her, shoving her things into the backseat of his car. “as i was saying, because it’s your birthday, i’m giving you 2 options: to drive my car, or to not.”

he flashes her his car keys, dangling them high enough in the air for her to not reach them.

“i’m getting spoiled this year with options,” she laughs, jumping into the air to snatch the key out of logan’s hands. “i wouldn’t turn down the chance to drive your car and send you into cardiac arrest.”

she walks around logan to run over to the driver’s side of the car. “don’t forget to wear your seatbelt.”

“i wouldn’t ever dare if you’re the one driving.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @namgification @localwhoore @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo

#logan sargeant x reader #f1 x reader #logan sargeant x you #f1 fem!driver #female driver #f1 female driver #formula 1 #formula 1 female driver #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #vettel reincarnate

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simp4konig · 9 months

Text

König mistakenly shoots you on the battlefield

König x Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: ~4500

*SLOW burn but when my writing finally has that spark this fic catches FIRE and FAST so be prepared!! 🔥🔥

*⚠️Angst Angst! ANGST!⚠️

*THABK YOU SO SO SO MUCH TO AZZY MY NO.1 FAN FOR THIS AMAZING IDEA!!!! 🥰🥰🥰I LOVE *YOU* VERY MUCH!! 🥹🫶🫶💞💞💞💞 💞💞💞💞💞THANK UVFOR ALWAUS LIKING MYNPOSTS AND BEING SO KIND TO ME YOU MAKE EBERY HOIR SPENT WRITING WORTH IT AS I AM ALWAYS EAGER FOR YOUR MESSAGES😭😭💓💓💓💓💓💓I AM *YOUR* NO.1 APPRECIATOR IN ALL RHE GALAXIES🌌🚀✨🌠QNDVWISH U ALL THE BEST ALWAYS!!!!!!🫂🫂💗💗 THIS ENTJRE POST IS DEDICATED TO YOU !!! 🥹(,,havinf said that, i hope u arent TOO taken aback bu tje level of angst here 💀💀REALLT went overboard and I completely apologize 💔)

TWs: König is in love with you. König's sanity slowly deteriorates as the fanfiction progresses. Mentions of attempted suicide, graphic depictions of gore, potentially triggering depictions of depression. König has suicidal thoughts after shooting you. König experiences intense trauma after shooting you and has survivor's guilt.

*Reader's callsign is "King". Implied age gap. One-sided pining from König... but the ending is purposefully kept ambigous (as you, the reader, can interpret the final interaction however you like)! Can be read as a standalone if you have never read any of my works before. <3

*To clarify to those that have already read my works before, this is *NOT* a direct continuation to 1.my fluffy 2.series! This is a separate imagine, but DOES take place in the same KönigxKing microchosm. Whether the following events take place in an alternate timeline or happen at some point in the future/past is for you to decide. Idk man i just write the fics I don't do the world buidling 🗿I write sotires without thingign about the greater picture u honestly think my one shots will tie to a greater plot?☹️No 💔

...

Right from the beginning, König had a gut feeling that this mission was going to go wrong.

It was a deep sense of foreboding in the pit of his stomach, making him feel queasy on the helicopter ride as the both of you with an additional three others were scheduled for contact in a few minutes' time.

You were just a recruit, and this mission was far too intense for someone with next to no experience in an active warzone for it to be their first. He knew the dangers of missions like this, knew how things could go horribly wrong in an instant.

It wasn't that he doubted your ability. Not at all. From the corner of the room he would silently supervise as you sparred another person, monitoring your movements incase your opponent had the upperhand and you needed guidance.

However, he had never needed to intervene, as he was impressed with your quick reactions and your controlled steps as you'd move on the balls of your feet, arms held up in front of your face. Ambition was in your eyes, your face scrunched up in concentration as you calculated your next move.

You'd defend yourself up until the moment you'd pounce and in a blink of an eye be on top of your opponent, your entire weight pressed on their theirs on the ground. Whether it was another woman, another man, or even a person with bigger bulk you were clearly disadvantaged by, you'd never give up, and took on any challenge with an impressionable passion of a young recruit.

Once they'd be the one to tap out, you'd immediately push yourself off them and offer them a hand, asking them "Are you alright?" in a concerned tone as you were pulling them up. "Sorry for getting aggressive there, sir/miss! I hope I didn't hurt you!"

To which they'd respond with boisterous laughter and a strong clap on your back, you doubled over as they were congratulating you for knocking them off their two feet and telling you to keep up the good work. König couldn't wipe the triumphant smile from his face, filled with pride at your personal victory.

Once you'd be the one to tap out, you'd part ways honourably, never disrespecting the person that came out on top. If anything, your loss only added fuel to the fire burning in your eyes, driven to work harder. He still admired you, and would be the one to pull you up as he dusted you off, telling you that you did a great job regardless.

"Thank you, sir!" You'd reply bashfully, face red from effort and embarassment. "Though, I'm sure I made a fool of myself with how I was flailing my arms just then..."

"Nein. Not at all," he'd say, eyes glinting with something that you couldn't quite recognize. "You did very well."

Target practice displayed your accurate aim, wool seeping out from the heads of dummies and the targets regularly replaced as the wood would cling in pieces, the center blasted into smithereens by repeated bullseyes from you.

Always lingering nearby to assist, you would gratefully accept König's help and allow him to demonstrate how to operate another gun with an appreciative smile on your face, your genuine eagerness to learn making König's chest tighten. You seemingly never knew the effect you had on him.

You were a naturally skilled soldier, he had observed, and he knew that you'd make an incredible addition to the team, he couldn't deny that.

Yet, he couldn't shake off this feeling as something more grave.

All personel debriefed and the plan disclosed a week prior, the superior went over the plan once more back at base. A large blueprint spilling over the table with weak spots and areas to beware were annotated, his forefinger pointing at different areas of interest. Sketches, photographs, and jottings were displayed from a projector for all to see as you listened closely.

König's jaws were grinding against each other in agitation, having doubts about you being deployed on this mission.

Despite this operation being portayed as an in and out extraction, König knew better. He knew what the stakes were. Intuition urged him to warn you, to confide in you about his doubts and even considered crossing your name off the list and assigning you elsewhere last minute without anyone knowing.

But the thought that he could be controlling you — a young, innocent recruit — and even considered doing something so foul didn't sit right with him.

You were your own person, and he couldn't be your shadow, couldn't act as a human shield against all that was cruel and gruesome in life. You had chosen this job, and therefore must have had at least some idea of what your responsibilities would entail, some knowledge of what soldiers go through in pursuit of glory.

Instead of being so pertubed, he should keep it together, he thought, should maintain a stoic façade. He was your superior — your colonel, for God's sake — he was someone you aspired to be, someone that should be an inspiration, a role model, someone that could have your back and be a reliable body to fall back on.

Not someone that couldn't keep it together when you around.

Especially when he shouldn't have been having feelings for you.

You, a young person vulnerable and easily influenced by people older than you, by the likes of him.

It wasn't right. He wasn't right for what he was feeling, for what he had been thinking. It wasn't right for his feelings to cloud his judgement, wasn't right that abusing his power had even crossed his mind, let alone been tempted to act upon it.

Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. "König? Are you alright, sir?"

Turning his head to face you, he nodded with false certainty, containing his worry in an attempt to appear confident for you.

"Ja, King, it's okay. Just thinking, that's all."

You quirked a brow, not convinced. "Hey."

Placing a firm hand on his shoulder, a serious expression was on your face, which caught König off guard and made his eyes widen. "If you're thinking that I'm going to get myself killed then you've got another thing coming, because I will NOT get shot by the enemy."

His back slumped over a little, averting his gaze for a moment. "Nein, sie haben recht."

"Ich sollte nicht zulassen, dass meine Gefühle mein Urteilsvermögen trüben." König mumbled something else under his breath in German, then quickly shook his head and laughed, looking into your eyes again.

Tension in his body was eased a little. "No, you're right."

A little. Because he wasn't going to dismiss the thoughts gnawing at the back of his head as mere paranoia.

You perked up. "Good, glad we've got that cleared up, sir! I want you to know that I won't disappoint!"

His heart skipped a beat at your smile, so eager to please and make him proud, that he shuffled uncomfortably, trying to get the butterflies in his stomach to calm down. Now wasn't the time.

Idly fidgeting with his combat knife as the helicopter blades hummed above, he went back to thinking over all the possibilities and different ways this mission could go awry:

...What if these were the wrong coordinates, or the helicopter would be attacked the minute they landed? The thought of an ambush wasn't an irrational one — it had happened before, he reminded himself — so he had brought a few more weapon crates than necessary for safekeeping.

...What if the helicopter's signal was intercepted and everyone including the pilot were destined for a fatal crash? Counting the number of parachutes and noting the fire exit, he could rest a little easier if an emergency like that was to arise, yet it still did little to soothe his nerves.

...What if you really did get shot? In case that happened, he had alerted some operators beforehand to serve as re-enforcements, one of those on board including a skilled army medic, under the guise of needing more manpower in case things went south. After all, this extraction could not have go wrong. It shouldn't have gone wrong.

But... what if you died? König wouldn't know how to deal with the feelings associated with your death, knowing that he had loved you from afar yet never acted on it. At least he'd be able to keep his shameful secret a secret, and you'd pass away never knowing what he truly saw you as, truly thought of you.

He had little time to figure out what was causing the trepidation to stiffen his muscles as the helicopter suddenly swerved and lowered, landing kilometres away from the designated building yet on unstable ground nonetheless. Any moment soldiers could attack it if they had known the group's location, so the blades kept spinning and the engine kept running for an immediate getaway.

König assumed authority. "Everyone remember the plan?"

Four heads nodded in sync.

"Gut. Then you all know what to do. I will enter from the side with my Lieutenant—" he said, gesturing with his head at a masked operator beside you, "—while you three—" referring to you and two others you were only vaguely aquainted with, "—storm from the back. Ja?"

König's eyes stalled on you for a moment longer than necessary. You were going to be alright, he told himself. He'd keep you in his field of vision and could provide you with cover once you regrouped when you'd really need it.

"A quick extraction," he reminded, eyes stern yet heart disbelieving. "Simply go in, get the data, and go out."

A final nod of the head from König as he and his associate separated from your group. You headed towards the back of the building, fully alert, aiming behind corner incase there had been someone waiting to assassinate you.

Doors creaking as one of the men pushed, the three of you filtered in noiselessly, attempting to be as discreet as possible and wincing when the door slammed not so quietly. Guns cocked and silencers attached, you advanced in a line, blending in to the shadows.

As you walked, there were no signs of life, and the storehouse seemed abandoned. No machinery was being operate. No voices could be heard.

All was still and quiet.

Eerily quiet.

Feeling the hairs on your arms and neck stand on end, you shuddered. You made eye contact with one of the men in front of you who had more expertise, and he looked on edge, eyebrows creased in focus under his balaclava. None of this felt right.

Suddenly, something small rolled over towards you all. Blinking once, twice, you let out a panicked scream and dived for cover.

"Grenade!"

All hell broke loose.

Bullets ricocheted over your head, guns blasting from so many directions you couldn't pinpoint their source.

Slowly recovering from your momentary shock, you gripped your rifle tight and started shooting back, hidden behind a load of wooden crates. When you saw your hooded colonel crouching in a corner, you relaxed. With an encouraging nod from him, that was all you needed to go change positions, and you lunged forward. All was going smoothly at that point.

So engrossed in eliminating the threats in front of him, however, König only came to the realisation that you weren't there when he didn't see your figure in his peripheral vision.

Panic consumed his senses and circulated through his veins. All at once, he was frantically scanning the immediate area, searching for any trace of you.

You were thrashing and kicking as you were being pulled by rough hands, your fingers reaching for your holster through gritted teeth, yet it was just out of grasp. You were thrown harshly against the wall, and the enemy towered over you, feeling high from his power trip and excited to exert authority he had never had up to now.

Just as a knife made its way to your throat, your hand finally found your side arm and shot a bullet between his eyes, body falling on top of you like a sack of potatoes.

You convulsed involuntarily, hyperventilating under his weight and the sudden situation. Noting your surroundings, your heart sank.

You were in no man's land, full view of soldiers shooting at your team. The extraction point was just in sight, exactly how and where it was illustrated on the blueprint.

So far, no one had noticed you, too preoccupied aiming down their sights to see you shuffling under a corpse. You could enter those headquarters right now, could be proclaimed a hero of this story, and make your colonel proud and finish before schedule.

The risk was too big. You were bound to get shot.

Yet, against all better judgement, you dashed for the entrance, taking advantage of the element of surprise as three men turned towards you with wide eyes, not expecting to see you enter. Two were haphazardly shoving papers into a half-open folder thrown on the table.

Three shots fired before they could scramble for a gun, you rushed towards the desk. Scanning the material, your eyes widened in shock. This was it.

Now, your only choice was to crawl back into the line of fire. Soldiers still kept shooting with their backs turned, endless ammunition right at their disposal.

You were totally helpless on your own. Just one pair of wandering eyes from the enemy and just one shot in the back of the head would be all that would take to end your life at that moment and make all of your efforts go to waste.

Although an atheist, you mouthed a silent prayer, before taking a deep breath, and sprinted.

Seeing sudden movement headed towards him, König acted on instinct, and pulled the trigger on you.

His heart stopped.

Time slowed as your body fell in slow motion, more bullets piercing through your gear.

Realising his mistake immediately, he almost vomited his own stomach out at seeing you fall lifelessly on the ground, eyes wide and body dropping on impact.

"Scheisse, cover me, verdammt!" He yelled over his shoulder, all rational thought ceasing.

Breathing rapid and strained, he rushed towards you, gently wrapping his arms around your body — growing weaker by the minute — and headed straight for the first sign of cover he could see. Behind unstable and temporary refuge that could be blown to pieces, König was at a loss at what to do.

He had expected everything, evaluated every possible scenario, every possible outcome, even prepared a lifeline for you on the off-chance that you'd be injured in action.

Yet he hadn't anticipated that he would be the one to shoot you. Never.

Shaking violently, König could barely get any words out. "—S-schatz, please please please—"

Hesistant hands hovered over your wounds, conflicted, as blood was staining your uniform, wrenching König's heart. His mind kept repeating you did this. You did this. You did this.

You needed urgent aid, and you needed it right now, yet he didn't deserve to touch you, his hands clenched into fists as he didn't want to break you further, treating you like fragile glass that could shatter into pieces under his touch if he so held you.

He was the one that did this to you. You, the young recruit he was so hopelessly infatuated with, a person who he had cherished and loved from afar, the person who made him feel good things for the first time ever in his life.

He did this to you.

He was the monster in your closet, the threat that König had desperately attempted protect you from all this time, the threat that you were told to eliminate on this mission. The enemy.

The enemy that had mistakenly shot you.

"Es tut mir so leid, I'm so sorry—" König's mind couldn't function properly, speaking in broken mix of English and German. He couldn't gather his thoughts, couldn't think.

"—I'm so so so sorry. Please don't die, bitte vergib mir, forgive me, forgive me, schatz. Forgive me. Ich liebe dich, schatz, do you hear me? I love you."

Bullets whizzed past you both relentlessly, both of you still caught in crossfire. König's lips were moving yet you couldn't hear what he was saying to you, couldn't feel anything as you slowly lost consciousness, slowly closed your eyes.

A calloused hand tapped your face in desperation, your vision blurred.

"—Nein, nein, King! Stay awake! I'm calling for the re-enforcements now! Please, don't die on me— I'm so sorry..."

Shaky yelling through the walkie-talkie, voice cracking. "This is your colonel, König! We're retreating right now! One of ours is wounded! Send the re-enforcements right now to this location! I repeat, we are retreating! I am calling this mission off!"

"What? Are you crazy, König?!" A break in character from the commander, before immediately assuming professionalism once more. "Proceed with the mission! You are on the verge of breaking their defenses! You will enter their headquarters and be able to—"

"Nein. That was an order, commander," he hissed through gritted teeth, nearly crushing the device in his death-grip. "We are retreating. I am calling this mission off."

A pause. Then: "Copy that, colonel. We are sending your re-enforcements to cover you as you exit. Your helicopter is waiting. Hold out for thirty seconds longer."

Sighing with relief, he suddenly thought his heart stopped beating when he saw you laying there motionlessly, eyes closed. Desperately tapping at your cheek did nothing to awaken you. He prayed that you'd survive, willing time to go faster.

At last, loud whirring from above gave him the only comfort. Not waiting a second longer, König picked up your limp body and dashed outside, the helicopter lifting off as the rest of the crew threw themselves inside.

Opening your vest to inspect your wounds, he saw a blood-soakes folder secured tightly to your chest.

It was the data. You risked your life for the mission. You risked everything to accomplish the task and he had shot you anyways.

"—This is your colonel, König. We have the data. Mission accomplished, I repeat, mission accomplished. King has the data."

The radio crackled with an indistinguishable response, yet König heard nothing, blood rushing to his head and ringing persisting. Medics wasted no time to wheel you into an operating room, tearing your limp body away from his arms. He avoided the celebrations and cheers for their colonel, leaving everyone dumbfounded at his reaction. Shouldn't have he been proud? The mission was a success!

Yet the mission wasn't a success, and if anything, he felt shame. No one knew why their colonel holed himself up in his room aside from himself.

The news of you in critical condition in the hospital broke König.

As much as he wanted to see you, to check on your health and be the one to see your first signs of recovery, he couldn't. He couldn't bear to witness the colour drained from your face as you laid unmoving on the bed, the slow beeping from the heart rate monitor machine the only indication that you were alive.

He just couldn't. Not when he caused this. Not when he fucked up this much.

Using the gym as a coping mechanism for a while, he trained harder and more often than ever before, only wishing to make the pain go away. When he wasn't at the gym all throughout the day or at odd hours of the night, he'd toss and turn in his bed, having nightmares about your body bleeding out below him as the shot relentlessly echoed in his head. Or worse, he'd imagine himself shooting you again, only this time he'd find the barrel of his gun was aimed at your forehead execution-style, your unassuming face suddenly exploding into bloody pieces and what was left of your bewildered expression still remained even after he had pulled the trigger.

At those, König would spring upright, screaming "No!" in anguish.

He'd be panting heavily, bedsheets drenched in his own sweat and feeling like he was suffocating with each rise and fall of his chest. When the situation sunk in, he'd clench his fists so tightly his knuckles went white, shaken to his very core. On those nights, König wanted nothing more than to hurt himself, to compensate for the injury he inflicted upon you and how he had completely disgraced you.

At one point, when he had finally had enough, in his blind craze snatched the pistol laying by his bed, flicked the safety off and aimed it at the same place he had shot you, just to break down in despair when no bullet came out, the clip hidden in his bedside drawer.

Hand tightly squeezing his heart through his soaked t-shirt, he was repulsed by the fact that he was completely healthy and could walk freely while you lay injured and dying.

Under his watch, you had been injured. Under him, your body had crumpled. And it was his fault.

In emotional turmoil, he soon lost all ability to function. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and could hardly find the motivation to get out of bed most of the time, convinced that he had killed you, convinced that he was a monster. Responsibilities were kept on hold, the next best person taking his place. No one questioned the new arrangement, despite the shared confusion from everyone on base.

He couldn't take this. He couldn't take this any longer. He would have rather died, sacrificed himself in any way possible if it meant that you could live another day, as you could make a greater impact on the world than he ever could. Could be a better person than he ever could.

It was his fault. He shot you. He had shot you. He had shot the recruit that he had hopelessly fallen in love with, yet only he himself was to blame for it for his lack of control, for his inability to be unaffected by his feelings.

One day, a knock on his door pulled him out from his trance.

Prior to the interruption, König was staring at the cement wall, his eyes unfocused, completely still and barely breathing. He wasn't himself.

Immediately straightening his legs and nearly tearing a tendon from how fast he got up despite having been so inactive for the last few days, he stomped quickly towards the door, his face glum yet eyes glinting with the merest hint of hope.

Hand reaching for the handle, he had readied himself, expecting bad news coming from a surgeon wearing a medical mask and a blue uniform, a solemn expression as they devasted him with your passing.

All but the latter was true.

"Colonel König, sir. The patient is awake. You may now visit them if you so wish."

Blinking a couple of times, König thought he had heard incorrectly.

"...P...Pardon?"

Repeated were the words that König was shocked to hear.

"King is awake, sir. Their condition is a stable one. Our team thought to notify you first since you were on the mission with them."

Gasping, König could barely breathe. He felt like he was drowning, drowning despite his head breaking out from the water. "What... I... where?"

"Ground floor, room twelve. They're on medication as of this moment yet are fully awake."

König nearly fell to his knees. You were alive!

You were alive! He hadn't killed you! He thanked the Gods, and could barely keep composed, barely able to stop himself from dashing to the center of base and yelling into the sky in pure joy.

"I— thank you... so much."

Running faster than he had ever ran in his whole life, he was at your door in minutes.

Yet, as his fingers reached for the door knob, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, hand poised mid-air.

What if you didn't want to see him after the whole ordeal?

What if you resented him, and would spit in his face the moment he walked in?

What if you hated him, and wanted nothing to do with him ever again?

Hesistantly knocking twice, he nearly had a heart attack when your voice broke through the door:

"Come in," you called simply; your voice was hoarse, but it was clearly still you.

Taking a deep breath, König pushed the door open.

There you were. He was having heart palpitations at seeing you awake and looking at him.

The light coming through the open curtains made your skin glow despite how pale you were, eyes sparkling and crinkling in happiness despite the dark circles and heavy bags under your eyes, hair splayed out behind on your pillow, resembling a halo, despite how greasy it was.

He had missed you. So much.

Then his heart sunk as he reminded himself that he was the reason for why you were here, why you were in in this state to begin with.

Seeing König, You shot him a daring smirk despite how numb your face felt. "Hey, König, sir. Did you visit me at all? I'm sure you missed me."

Waiting in anticipation, you kept looking at him excitedly. At the lack of response and his refusal to meet your gaze, it faded completely. "—Wh—what? You—"

"Not— not even once? Not—"

Tears were welling up in your eyes. "—you didn't come see me even one time?"

Maybe you shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. Maybe you should have thought that König would not have time to spare in his busy schedule.

Yet you couldn't not get your hopes up when as soon as you woke, your first thought was of König. Although the grim reality hit you hard like a bucket of cold water dumped over your head, you still wished to see him.

And yet, he hadn't wished to see you at all. He had avoided you like the plague.

"Scheisse—"

König started pacing the room, head hung low as he weighed the pros and cons. Indecision.

"—Do you really... do you really want to know why I didn't visit you, King?"

You nodded meekly, lip quivering.

He finally made up his mind.

If you rejected him, at least he'd rest easier knowing that you'd live, and continue to be happy for you from afar. He'd still support you, still be your colonel, still love you even when you found someone else.

"I... I put you in this position, King... It was all my fault," he begun, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tone softed as he finally stopped, as still as a statue, a metre away. From this angle, you saw how bloodshot his eyes were, how they sagged in sadness, how dark circles had formed from lack of sleep. His pale blue eyes were dull, glued to the ground.

"Not only did I lose sight of you on the battlefield, I also shot you. Shot my own—" Pausing, not knowing how to refer to you.

He carried on. "I couldn't live with myself. I still can't live with myself. I'm walking, uninjured, as you are laying in bed, recovering from an injury that I am the reason for. From bullet wounds that were the result of me."

Voice hitching slightly, he tried to keep his breathing under control. But he couldn't.

"How could the monster that shot you enter your room and dare to look at you? How could I watch you cling to life, while I walk freely despite causing you this— this agony? What right do I have looking at you after putting you here?"

You allowed the tears to spill down your cheeks.

He stopped, eyelids drooping, finally meeting your eyes.

"I have feelings for you, King, I—" Trembling "—I do. But... I shouldn't be feeling this way. You have your whole life ahead of you and I—"

"—I've... aged... I'm not the same man I was before. I've witnessed things far too disturbing to ever share with you. I... I know that you should be with someone better and I—"

Although still in a daze and sedated by the drugs, your thought process was still clear enough where you could be sure about this.

Reaching with a tentative hand for König's larger and rougher one, you squeezed it weakly, looking up at him with a heartfelt expression.

König smiled for the first time in ages.

Through that gesture alone, König knew that you forgave him.

He allowed his breathing to stabilise, wanting nothing more than to start over with you.

...

Note: MY FAT FUCIIJF FINGERS SLIPPED AND I POSTED THIS EARLIER THANI WAS SUPPOSED TO OJ MY GOD I AM AN IDIOT 🤡🤡

Edit next day: how tmdid this fet 100+ notes im sobbing 😭😭. thabk you everyone for readijg this angst fest!!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

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justmystyles · 3 months

Text

Series

Now You're In My Life

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down and leads you on a whirlwind romance with one of the biggest pop stars in the world.

(More Than) One Shots

(One shots that got away from me, but aren't quite a series.)

Lost (2 Parts) Lose You to Love Me A run-in with your childhood sweetheart brings up old memories, and lingering feelings. Lost and Found You and Harry reconnected a month ago, and he insisted you come along for the final show. when your emotions start to get the better of you, you wonder if you and Harry could ever really just be friends.

End of the Road (2 Parts) Home Stretch As the tour comes to an end, the schedule starts to visibly take its toll on Harry, and you can't help but worry. Crossing the Finish Line It's the final show and Harry charms you into making good on a promise you made last time you were together.

Big Winners (3 Parts) Harry and Y/N have been friends for fifteen years, they finally work together on an album, and it leads them to a night that will change everything for them. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

One Shots

All I Ask*

You're finally starting to get over Harry, what happens when fate brings you back together?

Having Your Baby

You get some life changing news, and come up with the perfect way to tell your husband.

Wallflower

You're sitting alone at a wedding, can a handsome stranger help you come out of your shell?

Line of Fire

You and Harry have been keeping your relationship off the radar, but his concern for you overwhelms his need for privacy.

Coming Home To You*

Harry comes home early and catches you by surprise in the best way possible.

Scars

Can Harry be the comfort you need after falling back into old habits?

Ooh La La

After a revelation on movie night, you and Harry decide to reenact one of the scenes.

Love Don’t Cost A Thing

Harry loves to spoil you, but you're having a hard time adjusting to his lavish lifestyle.

The Battle in Barcelona

A crazy crowd at the airport comes between you and Harry.

Misplaced Emotion

As Harry prepares to jump back into the spotlight, he has a hard time re-adjusting to public life, and it manifests in the wrong way.

Good News All Around

You reach a big milestone in your life, but feel overshadowed when you call to tell Harry about it.

Perfect Harmony

You're in the final days of the tour, and Harry makes a suggestion that ends up changing everything.

Lights, Camera, Action

What was supposed to be just another job becomes the start of something new.

Business or Pleasure?

You return to Love on Tour after an extended break, but after your last interaction, you come back to an awkward situation with Harry.

Reigning it In

You're about to participate in your first horse show, but the nerves overwhelm you. Harry finds you just in time.

Family Portrait

Harry has a couple of heartfelt surprises for you while you're visiting him on tour.

All or Nothing*

You find a new way to tease Harry during a tour visit, which leads to a new way to drive him crazy.

With this Ring

Harry takes his commitment to you to a new level.

Veiled Insecurities

Harry has some insecurities about your relationship, but instead of talking to you about them, they end up coming out in the wrong way.

Heart Song

As a former member of the Love on Tour band, and current girlfriend of Harry, he asks you to reprise your spot for the final show.

Road to Recovery

After reading some negative comments about yourself, you nearly spiral back into old habits. you try to keep it from Harry, but he finds out and confronts you about it.

A Work of Art

After procrastinating for a few weeks, you finally make moves to finish your assignment, but run into an unexpected road block.

He's Not Me

You introduce Harry to the guy you're seeing, and you see a side of him you've never seen before and are shocked by his reasoning.

Sharing is Caring

You can't find your favorite handbag, Harry assures you he doesn't have it, but you see some photos tell a different story

Cantaloupe

In this one shot/flash forward from the Now You're In My Life storyline, you and Harry recap the big news from your family's Thanksgiving dinner.

Like Riding a Bike

Despite being on break, Harry manages to find his way back onstage.

Fa La La La Freakout

You will be meeting Harry's family for the first time over the holidays, and you are desperate for them to like you.

The Morning After

The morning after Harry's 30th birthday, you're hungover and Harry reminds you of your drunken actions from the night before, leading to a conversation you never expected.

Baby-Baby-Baby

Harry meets his niece for the first time, the joy and excitement are quickly replaced with a whole new set of feelings when his best friend, Y/N joins him at the hospital.

Smoke & Mirrors

Harry asks you to move to London with him, but a new opportunity for him makes things a little more complicated than you'd both expect.

(*) - NSFW

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gardens-light · 11 months

Text

Something Unexpected

Between debt collectors and the bank flooding the mailbox with eviction notices. Your father's positive attitude could no longer smooth out complications. And you once thought life on the farm couldn't get any harder...

Recent days- no months has been nothing but tough. This never ending sea of bad situations happening one after another, begun to drown and suffocate you. Feeling like you could barely keep float, while working two jobs. Attempting to keep some money flowing in.

But the universe has finally offered you a break. Something that could change you and your family's life forever...

Content: Reader insert. Event take place in 'Transformers- Age of Extinction' (Minor spoilers.) Mild coarse language.

Sparkmate Series- Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (End)

"Hey, sis! I'm home!" Tessa shouted as she stepped out of her car and onto the driveway. "Lucas and dad has gone to the next town, so they won't be back for a couple of days."

Looking around the family farm, a heavy sigh left her as you were nowhere to be seen.

"Seriously..."

Making her way to the barn, Tessa called out for you. This time getting a response.

"Are you working with lasers? If so, I'm not coming in-"

"You have never seen a truck like this before!" your excited tone cut her off as you abruptly open the barn door. "Get in here. Lock the door."

Tessa raised an eyebrow as you grabbed her arm, pulling her inside the barn. While she closed the door behind her. "It doesn't have a lock..."

"Y'know that rusty ass truck dad brought in a few days ago? Look! Look at the hole in the radiator."

Tessa rolled her eyes at your enthusiastic tone, as you placed an arm through the grill. "Look at the size of it! Something blew a hole in it!"

"Yeah, so?"

"It's not normal steel! The shrapnel in the engine, it ripped all the connections apart."

Tessa watched you fractally climb the scaffolding which brung you a little more to the truck's engine level. Rubbing her temples as a sigh left her.

"I honestly don't know who's worse. You or dad-"

"Dad is going to lose his fucking mind, when he finds out what we've got! And watch! Watch!"

Your sister rolled her eyes before crossing her arms. Her unimpressed gaze watching as you took hold of two jumping cables.

"This took some family genius. You're gonna love this, sis! Just watch what happens when I hook this thing up to a working battery."

Placing the clamps onto the battery, the rusty old truck rumbled and shook in it's place. Headlights flickered as the engine inside failed to roar to live. But the deep robotic voice coming from the vehicle made Tessa's jaw drop.

"Calling all... Calling all Autobots..."

Throwing the cables aside, allowing the rusty truck to slowly die again. Tessa watched you jump for joy, while her stomach did a backflip.

"Oh yea!" you cheered. "I don't think this is a truck at all... I think we just found a Transformer!"

"Are you out of your mind? You need to get that thing out of here!"

"You don't have to worry" you called out, jogging after Tessa as she quickly left the barn. "I've been working on it all night. And look at me. I'm fine-"

"This isn't one of Dad's random piles of junk! It's an alien killing machine!-"

"Sis, it's DOA. Nothing is gonna happen."

Tessa ran a hand through her blonde locks, as she began to pace in front of you. "This isn't happening! This isn't happening!"

"Tessa-"

"Listen! I-I remember Lucas telling me about a number that you call- that you're supposed to call. He said something about you're supposed to call a number, and if something ends up being alien. Then you get twenty-five grand."

"That's bullshit, and you know it." You crossed your arms. "Nobody just hands out large sums of money- especially the government-"

"Y/N, I'm making the call." Tessa's fumbled through her pockets.

"I've seen the commercial. It isn't a guarantee" you protested snatching the mobile out of Tessa's hand and taking a step back.

"Look! If that's a Transformer from the Battle of Chicago. Dad's gonna lose his mind! If I could figure out how it works and apply that technology to his inventions. We wouldn't need to worry about money again-"

"Yeah! That's why you're working two jobs!" Tessa got onto her tiptoes as you held the phone above your head, slightly out of her reach.

She slightly pushed you, quickly grabbing the falling mobile. You both sighed, just giving each other side glances while pausing for a moment.

"Twenty-five grand, Y/N. It pays for the house. It pays for my collage."

"Please Tessa. Please" your begging tone caused a sigh to escape your sister. "Let me do this, and... and I'll do your chores for a week- A month!"

"No. I'm making the call and telling dad-"

"Keep this a secret and I'll... I'll won't tell dad about your boyfriend!"

Tessa's stiff body language made you smile. Stopping in mid-dail as she studied your features.

"I... I don't have a boyfriend"

"Yes you do" your teasing tone unsettled your sister's nerves. "Well at least I hope it was your boyfriend I saw last week, and not some pervert climbing out of your window in the middle of the night. And wearing nothing but his shirt and underwear, may I add"

Tessa bit her bottom lip, "you saw Shane...?"

"Saw him? Girl, I heard him falling out of the window and onto the damn roof. I'm surprise Dad didn't hear anything."

Tessa hesitated before speaking. Groaning at your smug smile.

"Ugh fine! But if you die I'm stealing your laptop!"

"Deal!... You just might wanna delete my browser history first..."

---

" I think the shrapnel took out your power core" you muttered to the rusty machine.

Your legs dangled outside of the truck, while your torso hung inside the engine. Grabbing random bits of shrapnel, lose nuts and bolts, and throwing them over your shoulder.

"Hmm... what this?"

Reaching out for a shiny silver cylinder, roughly tugging it out of the engine and holding it against your chest. As you pushed yourself back onto the scaffolding. Pushing your goggles up onto your forehead, examining the unusual object.

Climbing down the scaffolding and powering up your wielding machine. Hovering the fire torch over the metal, cocking your head to the side.

"Nothing... perhaps you have a higher melting point- oh shit!"

The flame of the torch ignited sparks from the cylinder. Screaming you dropped it, accidently allowing it to fly around the barn. Ricocheting off the walls and floor, banging into the truck and knocking the scaffolding over. Before breaking through the wooden barn door and flying into the house.

Tessa's screams could be heard from the house, as the missile slid around on the floor, going from room to room.

The sound of groaning metal plates shifting caught your attention, your eyes widening as you watched the truck grow taller. Cogs and gears made unhealthy churning noises, as the now 22ft tall robot struggled to get onto his feet.

"I'll kill you!" the machine's voice groaned, as you scattered away.

"Hold on! Hold on!" you cried out. Looking over your shoulder, as Tessa's screams echoed throughout the barn.

The machine pulled out a giant cannon from his back, backing away from you and Tessa, while aiming the intimidating weapon at you both.

"I'll kill you! Stay back!-"

"No! No! Don't shoot!" you yelled, stepping in front of Tessa. Attempting to shield her.

The robot's blue optics studied you carefully, watching your body language as you cautiously stepped towards him. Holding your hands in the air.

"Easy, human"

You slowly nodded before speaking, looking up at the robot as he groaned while sparks spat out of his mechanical joints.

"Weapon systems... damaged-"

"A missile hit your engine" you explained. "And we took it out of you. You're hurt really bad, but you're safe now. You're in my home."

He scanned his surroundings, looking at the messed up barn. A cough echoed from within his chest plate, as dust came out of his mouth.

Getting a little closer, the machine's gaze returned to you as he knelt to the ground.

"I'm trying to help you. My name is Y/N Yeager, I'm an engineer." You reached out for Tessa, whom hesitantly took your hand. "And this is my sister, Tessa."

"Y/N... Tessa. I'm in your debt... my name is Optimus Prime."

You turned back at Tessa, "it's alright. He won't hurt us."

"Wh-What happened to you..?" she asked, not letting go of your hand.

"We... We were ambushed. A trap set by humans. I escaped and took this form." Optimus' voice groaned and coughed. As he withdraw his weapon, allowing it to retract back into his back plates.

"But you're on our side. Why would humans want to hurt you?-"

"They weren't alone... ah! My Autobots! They're in danger!"

Optimus tried to get up again, but his legs gave way. Causing him to fall back down onto his knees and cough up engine fluid, as a part of his headpiece fell to the ground with a loud clang.

"I must go to them now. They can... repair me."

"How far do you think you'll get?" you questioned in a calm tone. "With all this damage, you'll wouldn't make it to them."

Optimus watched you carefully pick up his headpiece.

"But let me help. I can fix you."

Tessa's worried eyes glanced between you and Optimus, as he hesitated before speaking.

"Very well... for now. We have a truce..."

---

"Go in dad's shed, rumish through anything- everything he has. Try and find things on that list."

Tessa grabbed your arm, as you both stood outside the barn.

"Wait! You're gonna try and fix him?" she protested. "He's not a model train set, Y/N!-"

"You're right. He's important-"

Tessa raised an eyebrow, "important to who? You can't keep an alien locked up in Dad's barn. What are you gonna do? Play with him?"

A heavy sigh left your lungs before speaking, "calm down. Just please... calm down-"

"I'm trying to! But a moment ago that rusty ass truck you wouldn't stop messing with, turned into a fucking giant thing!-"

"You still promise not to say anything?"

A half-hearted chuckle left Tessa, as she stared at you in disbelief. "That's your concern right now?-"

"Look! Look! Dad and Lucas is gone for a couple of days, right? That's all I need to get him in a decent state. Once he's fixed, I promise you. He'll be gone. But I need you to stay quiet!-"

"Fine! Fine!" she breathed heavily before snatching the list out of your hand. "But you owe me big time for this! Big time!"

---

"You took one hell of a hit, y'know." You said while placing a molten bit of scrap steel into a bucket of water. "The missile just missed your power source."

"We call it a Spark." Optimus watched you climb up the reassembled scaffolding. Coming to the height of his chest plate, your eyes sparkled in the gentle blue glow of his Spark. "It contains our lifeforce, and our memories."

You flashed him a warm smile before pulling down your goggles. "We call that a soul..."

A low rumble came from Optimus, as he felt your hands carefully place the scrap piece of metal against the opening in his chest plate. Taking your time to weld it into place, while he placed a hand over his Spark. Protecting it from the ambers that occasionally left the fire torch.

The leader of the Autobots gazed down at you. Remaining silent as he watched you solder away.

It wasn't the first time a human patched him up. Back at N.E.S.T, there's been multiple times when soldiers put him back together after a mission. But with you, it was somehow... different.

Your touch was gentle. Each movement was careful and mindfully placed. You even welded things onto him in a cautious manner. It was like you treated Optimus like he was some sort of antique, rather than an millennium old alien being.

"Y/N..."

You looked up at him. Turning off the fire torch and placing your goggles back onto your forehead.

"Why are you willing to help me?" Optimus asked, as he pulled out a large bullet shell from his shoulder plate, and flicking it away.

You felt the Autobot study you, examining every feature upon your face and reading your body language. As you slowly leaned back against the railings of the scaffolding.

"I guess... maybe because you trust me to."

Your words were simple and true. Optimus couldn't detect any lies or waver within your voice nor tone. His scanners didn't read anything out of the ordinary from your relaxed posture.

Perhaps... I've judged too quickly...

"Is it... just you and your sibling?" Optimus asked, trying to make small talk.

You squinted at a few bolts, while holding them up to the Autobot. Judging weather they were right for the next job.

"Yes- well actually no. Our dad lives here- he owns the family farm. But he isn't here." You explained, while putting the bolts down and moving onto different sized ones. "He's in the next town over for the next couple of days. Working- well, selling some inventions."

Optimus looked around the barn, tilting his head to the side as his processors tried to make sense of the random machines and scrap bits of metal. "Are you an... inventor as well?"

A heartful chuckle left you, as you approached the Autobot. Tapping on his left leg, "no. No. I just help him put things together, or strip them down for parts. Whenever Dad has too many projects."

Optimus' groan quickly made you realize the tone of your sentence. You looked up at him.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything-"

"It's alright. None offence is taken."

Butterflies slightly fluttered in your stomach as his smile mimicked yours.

You quickly turned your attention back onto his leg. Making sure the bolt wasn't too tight.

Optimus noticed you trying to hide your blushing features. His smile grew wider, finding the action somewhat amusing. He watched you bend and stretch your body, after chucking the tool onto the workbench.

"You've been in here for hours. You should rest."

"I will later." You promised, "but first. Let's put your headpiece back on."

He speechlessly nodded, gently using a hand-crank to bring the scaffolding a little more to his height.

Gathering the tools required to put his headpiece back on, you climbed the scaffolding stairs. Reaching the top and placing the tools onto the metal floor of the scaffolding.

Optimus averted his gaze as you pulled off your hoodie. Allowing your torso to breathe in the light cotton tank top. You examined the wires and gears on the side of his head, tilting your head from side to side.

"I think the inside is fine. Your headpiece just needs to be welded back on." You spoke with a smile, placing your hands on your hips.

"I thank you, Y/N. Your assistance thus far has been appreciated beyond compare-"

"Don't go all soft on me now, Big Guy." You spoke with a smile. "Now eyes forward. You need to stay completely still while I do this."

Optimus faced the barn doors, as you pulled your goggles back into place. The headpiece slotted back in nicely, but you still held it in place as you welded the metals together.

His spark skipped a beat sometimes, whenever he felt your breath upon his metal plating. Through many years he's warned his Autobots about getting too attached to humans, yet here sat the infamous Optimus Prime, allowing a human he's just met for a few hours making him feel this way.

"All done, Prime!" your cheering voice snapped him out of his daze.

His optics falling upon your smiling face. Although you were covered in dirt and grime, to him you were the most beautiful human he ever set sight on.

"Thank you... I am in your debt-"

"Hush. Hush" you interrupted, pulling your goggles down and around your neck. "There's still plenty of work that needs to be done. So promise me you won't wander off."

A low chuckle rumbled in his voice, "I promise."

Your eyes glanced up and down at him, "and promise me one more thing?"

"Of course."

"When you do return to your Autobots... promise you won't forget about me..."

Tag List

@jellyfishxxi

#fanfiction #x reader #optimus prime #transformers x reader #Optimus prime x y/n #optimus x reader #transformers fanfiction #autobots #autobots x reader #transformers bayverse #fanfic writing #gardens light

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badbatchsprincess · 2 months

Text

Heated ~ pt. 1

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9

Masterlist

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

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

No warnings for this, just world building... welcome lol.

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After approximately 90 rotations aboard the Marauder, give or take a few days, you were ready to disembark.

Tech, of course, calculated the accurate amount of time, but you were running on inner planetary standard time. You were exhausted. Truly and totally exhausted. The battles along the outer rim were beginning to overtake every waking thought, and the war only seemed to be escalating. Even though you were just a medical technician, it seemed like you never had a moment to breathe.

The boys had been sent on one mission after another to the most backwater planets you’d never even heard of. In the beginning of working with Clone Force 99, you were thrilled.

Tired of being on the front lines with Captain Rex and General Skywalker, you thought this would have been a cakewalk compared to tending to the 501st. (Or as you liked to call them, the most reckless GAR unit in history.) Boy, were you wrong…

Rex assigning you to Clone Force 99 had been one of the most challenging places you think a young medic like yourself could have gone.

These men, in particular, were a unique kind of reckless, and they always seemed to end up in the craziest situations.

That didn’t mean you didn’t come to grow fond of them, but as GAR procedure demands, they must return to Coruscant for their quarterly medical examinations, and you were relieved.

While you didn’t particularly care for the bustle of the high-density planet, you could appreciate not being shot at, chased, or bombed at any given second.

The Marauder also didn’t offer the same level of comfort as the Venator Attack Cruisers you’d become accustomed to staying on for months at a time. But it’s alright, you’ve come to enjoy your time with special force 99.

For a bunch of chaotic Alphas, they were pleasant company.

Sergeant Hunter was the leader and a remarkable tracker. You couldn’t help but marvel at his heightened abilities; it was really interesting from a medical standpoint. Tech had the brain capacity of a supercomputer and his ex-arc trooper friend, Echo. You actually had known Echo from your early days serving under the 501st.

It was nice having him around; he seemed to keep the peace and offered some much-needed familiarity. Then there was Wrecker, the sweetest man-child you’d ever met. He had a love for blowing things up, which you found hilarious, and finally, there was Crosshair. You never really knew where you stood with the man. Echo told you it’s because he’s not used to strangers hanging out with his brothers, but you weren’t quite sure. The Alpha was quiet and calculated. He didn’t miss a thing, not with his heightened reflexes. He never said much to you; he often operated in silence unless it was to piss off Hunter, which seemed to be more often than you realized.

He, however, treated you indifferently. It was just odd for an Alpha to not acknowledge an Omega. Not to say you needed his attention, it was just different. You speculated it had to do with his genetic mutations; maybe he was too good at focusing on his objective. Omegas hardly phased him.

“You ready, Pip?” Wrecker gave your shoulders a gentle shake.

You smiled at the nickname. “Yeah Wreck, ugh I just really want a real shower.” You sighed, getting a little impatient.

The Marauder was waiting for landing clearance while you made quick work stowing away the last few stray supplies. You made notes of all the supplies that had been depleted, which was most of it. You shook your head; you’d be raiding the GAR supply facility before deployment for certain.

“You and me both,” Hunter snorted and settled down in one of the chairs in the cockpit.

Poor guy, you realized, probably had the worst of it all. Living amongst five sweaty dirty men and one medic had his scent on overdrive. Not to mention the dulled pheromones. Being surrounded by so many alphas, the stench was probably awful for him.

You, however, being an omega on the smaller side, couldn’t smell much, not with your implant which was due for replacement this quarter. Hunter never mentioned anything to you about smell. You just hoped it wasn’t too much for him with all of your implants thankfully. It never seemed like an issue for him.

“We’re clear for landing,” Echo chirped from the copilot seat. Everyone came up to the front to strap into the jump seats. Crosshair brought your packed bag up with him and placed it gently under your feet before he took the seat next to you and strapped in. You thanked him, and he gave you a silent nod still chewing on his toothpick.

Echo and Tech gently landed the Marauder in the GAR main hangar bay and finished up the last cross check before disembarking. Wrecker was kind and offered to carry your duffle filled with your civvies and toiletries. You thanked him and followed him out of the Marauder. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you smiled at the feeling of real sun on your skin.

Looking down the steps, you squealed, noticing all of the white and blue plastoid on the other side of the hangar bay. Running at full speed, you nearly tripped over your own feet, flinging yourself at Kix.

He noticed you last minute and swooped you up into his arms, “Hey Tiny! I didn’t know you were on rotation already?” He picked you up and spun you around before putting you down. Your excitement to see your old unit was overwhelming; you couldn’t help but smile as more of your friends on the 501st ran over to give you a hug or a playful shove.

You missed the way Wrecker gawked at your reaction to the Regs. “Well, she certainly doesn’t do that with us,” Tech noted, watching you rub up against the alphas in a comforting manner, purring under their affection.

“Fucking Regs,” Crosshair groused.

Echo remembered how fond you are of the 501st. He remembered when you were a newbie just starting your medical field days bonding with General Tano as teens. He felt a little nostalgic watching you with his vod. He laughed remembering how Ahsoka would scent you before sending you out into the field. They loved you so much.

Tech noted how comfortable you were with their touch and scenting. Something no one in their unit ever attempted with you. Of course, they were aware of your designation, but they tried their hardest to be respectful. Hunter had made it extremely clear no one was supposed to touch you unless necessary. It had been six months of your service on their unit, and no one has ever gotten this close with you except Wrecker, but it wasn’t anything like that.

The alpha in Tech was a little upset by this. Why didn’t the omega feel comfortable with them?

Hunter listened to the way you preened under their attention, and his chest pained a bit hearing your purrs. Was he… jealous? No. That’s his medic, that's all. He had read your file; you’d been with them for most of the war. Of course, that would make you closer. He could smell the happy pheromones you spread from where they were. You were happy with the 501st’s attention; it wasn’t something he knew you craved.

“I’m here for quarterlies,” you tapped your shoulder, “And I’m due for replacement.” You sighed. “Ahh,” Kix smirked, “Difficult enough dealing with us reg alphas huh? Gotta deal with defects now too huh? Got that implant working overtime.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved him.

A cough behind you caught your attention. You spun around to see your unit catching up, looking a little perturbed, especially Crosshair. He’s never warmed up to the Regs and didn’t particularly like you sharing your fond stories about them. You usually keep to yourself in his presence or else he’d get a little hostile.

“Sarge,” Kix greeted with a head tilt.

“Kix,” Hunter gave him a polite nod, “Captain.” He looked beyond you.

You spun around, “Rex!” You ran at him, wrapping yourself around your old captain. “Hey kid,” he laughed, giving you a pat on the head looking down at you.

“I’m older than you, Captain,” you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“So you like to remind me,” he laughed, suddenly realizing how much he had missed you.

You stepped back with a huge smile. Suddenly everything was starting to feel good again. 90 rotations didn’t seem so terrible anymore. You giggled as they all filed in demanding to know how you’ve been.

“We’re heading to 79’s later,” Jesse smiled, “You gotta come Y/N. I wanna hear about your adventures to the outer rim.”

“Especially me,” Fives trotted forwards shoving you playfully aside before embracing his brother Echo, “Vod!” He hugged Echo tight. Echo relaxed into his hug and gave him a curt smile. “How you doing?” Fives asked, wrapping his arm around Echo’s shoulder before walking off with him towards the barracks to no doubt catch up.

“I got a replacement due,” you sighed, “I can’t drink but I’ll stop by for a bit to catch up!”

They all seemed to light up at that, “See you there, kid!” Captain Rex gave you a nod and turned on his heel to get back to work and make sure the General’s Venator was getting proper maintenance.

“C’mon, Pip,” Hunter was leading the others towards the medical campus for their quarterlies.

You huffed, “Coming, Sarge.”

“Pip?” You heard the others laugh a bit at your new nickname when you trailed off behind your new unit. Damn their long legs you were struggling to hold pace with them.

Crosshair gave you an incredulous look watching you try to catch up. You gave it right back to him.

“Miss your precious Regs?” He sneered. You didn’t miss the way Tech’s shoulders stiffened. Wrecker and Hunter pretended not to hear, but you knew they did. You suddenly missed having Echo as your defense.

“What?” You looked at him.

“You heard me,” he growled.

“Of course I missed my old unit. I haven’t seen them in six standard months, Crosshair.”

“That all?” He was cold.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You stopped and crossed your arms forcing him to stop walking.

Crosshair pointed his toothpick at you, “Throwing yourself at a bunch of alphas like a bitch in hea-”

“Enough!” Hunter growled.

Your cheeks burned red. How dare he. You looked to Wrecker and then Tech but the looks on their faces didn’t exactly show any support for you. Did they agree?…Maker. Wrecker lowered his gaze which surprised you the most.

Crosshair never really said much to you besides if you asked him an immediate question about his health or an injury. He usually somewhat avoided you. But you never thought he disliked you, at least up until now. The disgust was obvious on his face.

You just shook your head and continued stalking towards the medical campus, ignoring Hunter’s call. Your shore-leave was becoming more and more desirable by the second. You wanted space especially from Mr. dark and gloomy.

Deciding you’ve had enough of them, you detoured for your department entrance leaving them to go into the main medical campus alone. You knew Tech had all of your reports stowed on his datapad records. They would survive without you at least for now. You thought you heard Wrecker whimper behind you, but the sound of ion engines priming drowned out the rest before you stepped inside the medic clinic. Fuck Crosshair. What a dickhead.

You shook your head knowing you had other things to focus on besides his stupid little attitude.

Passing through multiple security clearances, you stepped into the sterile clinic’s main lobby.

“Medic Y/L/N?” You heard a familiar soft voice.

“Hi Layla.” You smiled sweetly at the nurse who you came to know during your training program. Being an omega, she opted to stay on base instead of venturing out into the battle fronts she was definitely more gentle mannered than yourself. You preferred some action and excitement.

“In for your quarterly’s?”

"Yeah, and I need a new replacement implant," you muttered as you trailed behind Layla toward one of the deserted exam rooms. The clinical white walls felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the chaotic memories you shared here. You reminisced about your early days serving the GAR, where Layla and you tended to wounded soldiers and even brushed shoulders with the occasional Jedi. But that was before you were transferred to General Skywalker’s unit, thrust into the heart of battle and endless repairs for him and his Padawan. You missed the simplicity of those days, the camaraderie with Layla.

”How’s the 501st treating you?" Layla's voice broke through your reverie as she handed you a crumpled paper gown.

"I got transferred to Special Forces 99," you replied, shedding your uniform behind the flimsy curtain. "They’re a different breed, that's for sure."

"Clone Force 99?" Layla's eyebrows rose in curiosity.

“Yeah.” you confirmed, feeling a flicker of amusement at her reaction.

As Layla chewed on her pen, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes. "The Sergeant’s pretty hot."

Your cheeks flushed, and you nearly stumbled over your words before recovering. “Layla…” You gawked.

She giggled and sat down on her roller stool. "Don’t lie and say you’ve never thought about it."

Well, obviously you’ve thought about it. They’re all honestly pretty hot, but you’d never admit that out loud.

"Now where have you seen Hunter like that?" you giggled at her cheekiness.

"I watch the holonet streams every once in a while. Especially after the retrieval on Skako Minor, General Skywalker and Sergeant CT-9901 were all over the holonet for weeks," she mused. "An omega’s wet dream."

You screamed and threw your boot at her. You two looked at each other momentarily before bursting out into a fit of laughter. Man, you missed Layla. Honestly, you just missed having another girl to talk to. This was such a refresher from the overwhelming amount of Alpha.

You hopped up on the table, lying down, trying to get comfortable.

"What’s he like?" her tone shifted into mischief.

You hesitated, memories of Hunter flooding your mind. "He’s… different. Polite, I guess."

Layla raised an eyebrow, her expression demanding the truth. “Girl…” she slapped your shoulder, grabbing her scanner to document your entire system from head to toe.

"Well, I don’t know!" you put your hands up in defense. "He’s quite the gentleman. None of them so much as look, Layla, I swear."

She just looked at you with a raised brow while she continued her work, “Yeah right.”

"But…" you smirked, watching her work, "I do know the tattoos go to his feet…" you bit your lip.

Now it was her turn to choke. "You’re lying…" Her interest was piqued.

You shook your head. "Full skeleton all the way down his arm, ribs, thigh…"

You two sighed.

She finished her scan and input the data before sliding her roller chair right next to you. "Everywhere?"

You raised a brow. "Everywhere," you confirmed with a nod.

She put her hand over her chest in a dramatic manner before prepping the numbing agent for your implant.

You remembered the day you found out this information about your Sergeant. Up until this point, you’d only seen maybe an arm or some knuckles in your medical repairs, but this time Hunter had taken a pretty bad hit to his side and thigh. Multiple blaster wounds had torn him up, and Tech had helped him limp back to the ship before they both collapsed on the floor. You had flung yourself out of your bunk at the commotion only to realize what had happened.

Tech helped you tear off Hunter’s armor and helmet, trying to figure out where the wounds were. Luckily, they hadn’t gone through, and it was mostly just surface wounds, but you still had to cut through his blacks to get to it, leaving his entire left side exposed. He had growled at you, but Tech had set him straight. He was just in pain.

That’s when you realized his entire left side was tattooed like his face, all the way down to his feet. You mumbled a quick apology before starting your cleaning process and bacta application.

The wounds had healed up nicely, but he had to re-tattoo the fresh skin the next time they had shore-leave. You had also stowed away the information of how muscular he was. The man was truly a work of art.

A sharp jab snapped you out of your memories when Layla removed the old suppressor implant. You yelped when the new one went in, making you a bit dizzy with pain. You hissed when she retracted the mechanism.

"There we go," she beamed. "Good as new."

"Thanks, Layla," you said, sitting up, letting her bandage the small incision wound with a bacta patch. The soothing coldness was immediate. You sighed in relief as the pain dulled.

"I told Rex I’d be at 79’s later, if you want to come?" you offered, slipping from the table to give her a hug.

"As much as I’d love to play with the captain, I have so much work to catch up on for quarterly's. I better stay here," she sighed, pushing her chair back into place. "But you have fun, and enjoy your time off. Come back to visit if you get bored."

You giggled. "I will." And with that, she left you to change back into your uniform before leaving the medic’s clinic. The hangar bay was significantly more empty now as you made your way over to civilian transport. After exiting the security checkpoint, you made your way over to the clone transport. "Can you take me to residential?" you asked the officer in the pilot’s seat. He gave you a nod, and you settled back into the transport’s seats. With a sigh, you were finally starting to relax a bit. You knew the boys were probably already back at their barracks after their examinations, so you knew they wouldn’t be bothering you for at least a few rotations.

When you finally arrived to the GAR residential building you gave the driver a thanks before hoping out and skipping over to the front door. You couldn’t wait to get to your quarters and enjoy a long hot shower. Swiping your clearance card, you dashed into the elevator to your floor and into your room. It smelled like you needed to open a window but other then that is was just as you left it. Knowing you’d have to get some food delivered, you gave a dramatic sigh while kicking off your regulation boots. You went to unzip your uniform top when you heard the swish of clothing and a familiar scoff.

You turned suddenly seeing Crosshair standing in your kitchen in his civvies looking tall and menacing.

“Maker! Crosshair!” You put a hand on your chest, “You scared me!”

“Sorry little one.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

You looked around suddenly remembering you’re in YOUR apartment.

“What the hell are you doing here Crosshair?” You narrowed your gaze at him getting mad all over again.

“Hunter is making me apologize for earlier.” He grumbled around his toothpick.

You hummed, “How did you get in here?”

He held up the Sergeant’s entry card. Of course… dammit Hunter.

“Here.” He slid your duffle across the floor to you. A peace offering. You were grateful for that at least.

A deep pang in your shoulder made you grimace “Thanks.” You unzipped your uniform top leaving you in your bindings not caring if he looked. He didn’t seem phased anyways. The bacta patch stained red with your blood. He narrowed his eyes to the incision. You knelt down to your duffle and pulled out your field kit. You grabbed a dose of pain killer and brought the injector up to the wound site. You pressed the mechanism and the needle stabbed you quickly injecting the medicine. You rolled your shoulder and replaced the bacta patch seeing the wound turning to a simple line. Soon it would be gone in a few hours.

“So?” You looked at the tall sniper.

He lifted a brow.

You crossed your arms, “Your apology?”

He snorted and stood up straight before walking past you.

“Sorry.” He mumbled before stepping back out into the hallway and disappearing.

You sighed knowing that was all you’re going to get from the grumpy soldier. Whatever, you’d take it.

~~~

The shower that followed was worth it. You had never felt so clean in your few years in this universe. The piping hot water cleansed you of three standard months of sweat, bomb residue, and blood. You scrubbed and scrubbed until your skin flared red before you stepped out of the shower to get ready. Throwing on your favorite civvies and some makeup, you quickly dried your hair before throwing on your regulation boots. Grabbing your com and a few credits. You practically skipped out of your apartment making a beeline for 79’s. You couldn’t wait to catch up with your old friends.

When you arrived, you heard an uproar of men yelling your name. You looked over to see Fives, Jesse, Kix, and the others wave you over.

“Tiny!” You got tackled by Fives. He put you in a headlock and ruffled your hair despite your cries. You shoved him off of you knowing he must have scented you in the process.

“Ugh! Fives you reek.” You scrunched your nose smelling the alpha on him it was stronger then usual.

“Sorry tiny.” He laughed rubbing the back of his neck, “We gotta get our implants replaced too.”

You shook your head and plopped down in the booth next to Kix with a laugh. He shoved the snack plate in your face continuing his conversation with another soldier to his right. You were starving and started munching down on the mantell mix.

“Hope that wont be a problem kid.” Rex smiled at you.

You just yanked your collar down to show them the patch, “All good captain.”

That made them relax. The 501st is many things, but they were always chivalrous towards you. Being their favorite omega and all, they had always taken a very protective stance with you. None of them tried anything and they had always kept away the creeps. You were thankful for their protection.

Your current hoard of alphas though, you didn’t really know where you stood with them. They kind of pretended like you weren’t there. You quickly realized they weren’t used to working with strangers, and an omega of all things. At first they treated you like a fragile little thing. Like they were worried they’d step on you. They couldn’t help but stare. You didn’t really blame them. Eventually it wore off and they seemed to become a bit more comfortable with your presence. Until it became normal. Except Crosshair, he never seemed to warm up to you and kept you at arms length.

“So how’s your new unit?” Fives asked sounding a bit jealous.

You giggled, “They’re.. nice.”

They all looked at you.

“What?” You shrunk under their looks. Even Rex stared.

“Nice?” Jesse laughed.

“That’s not exactly the word I’d use.” Rex raised a brow, “You’re okay, right kid?”

You opened your mouth in shock, “Guys I’m okay. I swear.”

They visibly relaxed.

“Look, it took some getting used to. I don’t think they’ve ever been around strangers before they’re very close. Clearly. Eventually they warmed up. Except the sniper. I think he might actually not like me.”

Fives just scoffed, “It’s because your’e hot cyar’ika”

Jesse punched him in the stomach. Fives doubled over and everyone at the table grumbled at him. You just felt your cheeks burn up and you hid behind Kix’s shoulder.

“Fives…” Rex sighed.

“What?” He choked out, “I’m just saying. I don’t think those defects have been anywhere near a woman much less an omega. Aye!” He blocked Jesse’s punch again.

“What omega?” You heard a gruff voice approach.

It was Commander Wolffe and the pack still in uniform. Rex got up and clapped him on the shoulder getting him settled in. He placed his helmet on the table and peered over at you.

“I don’t think we’ve met cyar’ika.” He grinned at you showing off his scar and grey iris.

You felt your heart rate increase under his intense stare. You could tell this alpha was seasoned, first generation from the looks of him. You were certain that if you didn’t have your implant, you'd be keening for his attention. Instead, you submissively lowered your gaze and leaned into Kix a bit. He wrapped an arm around you and looked up at the Commander, saying, “This is Y/N; we call her Tiny.” He shook you playfully, adding, “She used to be our medic. Now she’s with the 99’s.”

Wolffe let out a low whistle. “The 99’s? Must be exciting. Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, extending a hand, which you took, giving it a good shake. His calloused fingers lingered a bit as he ran them over your soft knuckles.

Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, you said, “Nice to meet you, Commander,” giving him a polite smile.

He smiled back, clearly pleased with your attention. Oh, he liked you, you thought to yourself. He then gently released your hand and turned to his men. “Let’s get a round of drinks. We’re off for quarterly’s!”

His men let out a whooping shout, and the waitress took down their orders. The pack quickly became rowdy, opting for roughhousing with each other and the shinies. After a long while of dodging his gaze and eating the food Kix placed in front of you, you decided you needed a cold glass of water and squeezed out from under Kix’s arm. The stench of so many alphas was starting to become too much, even with the implant. You were praying they couldn’t smell the nervousness on you.

Walking up to the bar, the woman smiled at you. She recognized you, as you usually spent your time with the boys when you were off. She gave you a little wave and bounced over, asking what you wanted.

“Just water for me,” you smiled. She smiled back and went to fill up your glass.

“What’s a pretty little omega doing in a place like this?” a shiny walked up to you, placing himself uncomfortably close to your back. You turned, facing him square on. Despite all clones being created as alphas, this one was young and stupid. Your omega instincts told you he’d be a weak mate. You noticed the lack of markings and scratches on his armor. He’s barely seen anything, you realized.

“I’m here with my friends,” you replied curtly, taking the glass of ice water from the bartender with a nod. You went to move away, but he caught your arm in a tight grip. Not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to assert his dominance and stop you from leaving. You just looked at his hand and then up to his face.

“I wasn’t done with you… omega,” he leered, leaning forward to run his nose closer to your scent glands. Your heart rate increased for all the wrong reasons. Fear started to creep up inside you the longer he had his hands on you. Now you wished Fives had scented you for real.

“Why are you messing with my medic?”

You stiffened.

Hunter’s smokey voice cut through the music of the club making your entire spine tingle. Hunter had used his Alpha tone making you tremble in spot. The shiny suddenly looked up eyes going wide. He quickly released you and saluted Hunter.“Sorry Seargant. I didn’t know she was yours.”

“Hmm” Hunter dismissed him and grabbed you by the same arm the shiny had just moments ago, except this time the touch didn’t feel dangerous. Instead it made your stomach flip. He’d never touched you unless it was for medical purposes. You couldn’t help the little preen inside you bubbling up. Alpha Protects. He lead you past the shiny and over to an empty booth in the back of the club. You could hear Layla’s voice ringing in your head. She’d be eating this up right now. You prayed your pheromones didn’t give you away.

He finally let you go when you reached the booth waiting for you to slide in. You immediately missed the warmth of his bare hand. You realized they were all in their civvies, well except tech, he still had his helmet near by. The rest of them slid into the booth following suit.

“She’s smells like Regs.” Wrecker crinkled his nose. Between, Fives, Kix, and the shiny you knew you reeked.

“Sorry.” You mumbled taking a sip of your water still a little pissed with them.

“You okay pip?” Hunter asked looking you in the eyes. You suddenly shied away from his gaze looking down at his shirt collar nodding. His eyes were too intense. You usually didn’t have a problem, but you were still trebling from the effects of his voice lingering.

“Did something happen?” Tech asked from around Hunter’s shoulder.

“I’m alright. Just a dumb shiny.” You felt like you were being suffocated by their stares.

They laughed a bit at that.

“Okay, I can’t take it anymore.” Wrecker shoved you under his arm and rubbed his scent all over you. You coughed and sputtered trying to shove him away but it was no use. Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“Alright Wrecker enough.” Hunter sighed looking down at you drowning in alpha, “She’s covered.”

“Ugh.” You tried to straightening out your hair and top a bit, “Easy next time big guy. I think every alpha for a mile can smell me now.”

He just gleamed. You couldn’t help but be a bit grateful. It seems like everyone was due for an updated implant. The smells were getting to be out of control. No one would come near you now. Even the rough housing seemed to be a little aggressive than usual. They had asked you about the wolf pack but you just shrugged watching their rough housing turn into full on brawls.

The boys continued talking about something random that Tech had info dumped about and Wrecker of course was confused. You continued to sip on your ice water before you heard your name being called. You popped your head up from the booth to find Fives looking for you. You sighed and put your cup down. Part of you didn’t want to go back because of the attention the commander was giving you, but the other part of you wanted to spend some time with Rex and the boys. Damn these alphas.

Opting to stay where you were, Fives and the boys decided to come over towards you. Knowing this was probably going to go badly, you shrunk into the booth. Hunter eyed you before he heard Crosshair snarl. A large group of Regs came trotting over to come socialize like a bunch of drunk pups. They all pulled up chairs and surrounded the booth with their rambunctiousness.

“Where’d you go Tiny?” Jesse was sloshed. Leaning over Fives who was barely holding himself together.

“Tiny, did you see the way the commander was looking at you?” Fives shoved Jesse off of him, “I think he’s trying to-” he jiggled his brows suggestively at you and you just shook your head and wanted to melt into the table. Please not this. Not with my commanding officer present. Not my very hot commanding officer present. You wanted to slap Layla why did she have to start putting these thoughts into your head.

“Commander Wolffe?” Tech asked for clarification.

Fives just nodded taking another big sip from his cup.

“Someone shoot me.” You covered your face you were too sober for this conversation. You could feel Crosshairs smirk from across the table.

“Awh pip.” Wrecker just grabbed you again and shook you around, “The Commander thinks you’re prettyyyy.”

Fives and Jesse giggled. Hunter and the others just looked uncomfortable. Obviously they weren’t the most social, nor playful. This was just embarrassing. Your only comfort was Wrecker. He was always the nicest anyways. You just tucked yourself into his side forgetting his betrayal earlier.

“The Commander wants to rut with Y/N?” Tech asked.

“Maker.” You wanted to dissipate into thin air.

“Mhmm.” Jesse and Fives nodded with cheesy grins, “she gave him the eyes.”

You scoffed, “I did not!”

“Yeah you did!” Fives giggles. He then looked at Jesse and re-enacted the whole scene dramatically, “It’s nice to meet you commander.” He fluttered his eyelashes at Jesse and held his hand. You groaned and put your head down on the table.

“I need a drink.” You whimpered not able to take the teasing.

“Is that wise?” Tech chimed in, “You just had your implant replaced. It’s advised to not drink for the first 24 hours or else it may be ineffective.”

“Kriff.” You sighed.

“And that’s my cue to come rescue Tiny.” Kix interjected and yanked you up from the booth taking you far away from this painfully awkward conversation. You thanked him profusely letting him guide you.

“You’re nervous when you’re sober.” He laughed walking over to the dance floor with you.

“I’m nervous because of my Sergeant.” You whisper in his ear. He just gives you a questionable look. You laugh and shake your head, “A friend of mine said something today and I can’t get it out of my stupid omega head.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow dancing to the beat.

“Shut up.” You laughed praying Hunter couldn’t hear you over the yelling and music, “They also don’t like the “Regs,” you shook your head.

“Well I know why.” He replied spinning you around.

“Why?” You asked swaying to the beat.

“Everyone was so mean to them growing up. Kids are horrible you know. But because they’re different they definitely dealt with a lot during training days.” Kix informed you. Suddenly everything made sense. Especially why Crosshair can’t seem to socialize with Regs to save his life.

“Plus, the Captain decked the sniper on Skako Minor.” Kix said cheekily.

You dropped your jaw, “Rex?” You couldn’t believe it. There’s no way level headed Rex lost it with Crosshair.

“Oh yeah.” He laughed, “They got into it while trying to find Echo.”

“No way.” You couldn’t believe it. While dancing you peered over at the table to find the four 99’s watching you completely ignoring the drunk shenanigans from the 501st boys. The only one interacting was Echo. You could tell there was a part of him that missed his brothers. They continued to drink and talk amongst themselves while you and Kix danced on the floor. Some of the other 501st boys joined you before linking up with pretty omegas vying for their attention. Clearly their interests were else where.

You definitely didn’t miss the way the Commander seemed to be unable to take his eyes off of you from his chair. You chose to ignore him.

An alpha like that could send you into heat with or without an implant. You however had a job to do, and being stuck in his bed for a week wouldn’t suffice. The mortification of even thinking about returning to the Marauder after that. You couldn’t even go there. Crosshair would literally never let you hear the end of it. He might shove you out of the airlock when you weren’t expecting it.

Kix seemed to be reading your mind and elected to giggle. You slapped him on the arm and he feigned injury. Just then, you noticed the Commander stand and seemingly decide to come your way. Feeling there to flee, you quickly hugged Kix and made a dart for the door. Grabbing your comm you let the boys know you’d be returning to your apartment but to your dismay, Hunter replied…

“Don’t bother we just got special orders. We’re shipping out tonight.” He sounded tired. So much for shore-leave.

“Ugh.” You whined turning to the taxi waiting by the club entrance. You put your comm away in your pocket and fished around for a few credits ignoring the way the cool evening air chilled your skin.

“Something wrong Cyar’ika?” The gruff voice you were dreading came from behind you. Damn your omega tendencies. You turned keeping your eyes lowered.

“Everything is alright Commander.” You replied sweetly, “I just got informed my break has been cut short. We ship out again tonight.”

He sighed stepping forwards and placed his pointer finger under your chin to tilt your head up. You nearly whimpered looking into his scarred eye. Alpha’s strong. Alpha likes you. Alpha smells good. Really good. You wanted to whine when his eye zeroed in on yours. He wanted your eyes on him that was for certain. Maybe a breakout heat with the Commander wouldn’t be too bad…

“Well if you ever need anything you let me know, yeah?” The Commander smiled wolfishly at you and released you. You took a deep breath and took a step back and nodded your head.

“Y/N?” You heard Tech’s call come to your rescue, “Do you need a ride?”

You grabbed your comm and quickly responded with shaking hands, “Yeah that would be nice thank you Tech.”

It wasn’t long until their speeder arrived and you turned back to the Commander who had no issue walking you over to your unit. You could tell by Hunter skeptical glance that he was trying to figure out the situation. The Commander passed you over to your men and have you a nod before putting his helmet back on and walking back into the club.

“What was that about?” Hunter asked with a raised brow.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” You shook your head and practically dove into the speeder.

“Did the Commander proposition you?” Tech asked pushing his glasses back up.

You squeaked and hid in the backseat.

“Stop bothering her.” Echo shook his head. Thank the maker for Echo.

“It was a harmless question.” Tech justified, “As we were talking about his strange attentions earlier and Y/N’s even more unordinary response according to the Regs.”

You looked out the window of the speeder at the endless city below, “I’m going to jump.” You half joked.

“Tech please drop it.” Echo implored, “You’re making her uncomfortable… and me.”

“It’s just biological responses.” Tech grumbled into his data pad, “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You sighed. This was going to be another long mission, and then you were going to take it upon yourself to insure you got a vacation. Hopefully there was something Rex could do to get you some time off for real this time far away from all of these men.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

This part one, I'll be posting regularly to this story, I hope y'all enjoy!

#bad batch #abo #abobadbatch #smut #fanfic #hunter #crosshair #wrecker #tech #echo #501st #cloneforce99 #79's #star wars #clonewars

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weirdmarioenemies · 2 months

Text

I am going to like totally finally finish ranking the Mario galaxies today. Stop Me.

Thank you for you're patience. We can talk about the top 5 galaxies now

I'm not gonna bother with any prelude, you've waited for this for like years now I know you want the Goods so here you go!

5. Blue Grass Galaxy

Tier: S+ Debut: Super Mario Galaxy 2

Blue Grass Galaxy is quite possibly the most elusive galaxy in the series. It was shown off briefly in the first ever Super Mario Galaxy 2 trailer, but when the game came out, it seemed like it was nowhere to be seen... Not even datamining could find it!

But as it turned out, we just weren't looking hard enough, because if you manage to grab every Green Star as Mario in a single sitting in under two hours without losing a single life, and then beat the Perfect Run, also without losing a single life, you unlock... A series of Red Stars for each Galaxy! And once you collect all of those in under an hour as Luigi without losing any lives, once again followed by another perfect Perfect Run, you unlock a bonus Hungry Luma on the World Map, who needs to be fed 9999 Star Bits on all three save files (so have fun speedrunning the green and red stars again!) before finally transforming into the Blue Grass Galaxy.

Of course, because the files for the Blue Grass Galaxy weren't included in the game, you'd need to download it by using a special, randomly-generated code on the Wii Shop Channel, but once you finally did, you could finally play the Blue Grass Galaxy to your heart's content. I know it might seem like quite the grind to get here, but man, every second you spend in the Blue Grass Galaxy is so immaculate, it makes the whole grind worth it. I almost don't have the words to describe how good it is, you'd really need to experience it for yourself! Sadly, you can't anymore, ever since the Wii Shop Channel shut down... Ah well. You really had to be there, I guess. I know some people were disappointed by it just reusing the Puzzle Plank Galaxy music, but I love that music so much that I don't mind.

My only gripe with the galaxy, and the main reason it only landed in the #5 spot, is because of the name. They called it the "Blue Grass" Galaxy, but that grass is very clearly green. This might seem like a pretty petty reason to put it so low, but when you get up that high, the small things can make a big difference, you know? If they called it the "Green Grass Galaxy" or the "Blue Sky Galaxy," I could easily imagine it getting the #1 spot, but respectable effort nonetheless, and a worthy reward for Super Players.

4. Wet-Dry World

Tier: SS Game: Super Mario 64

I know what you may be thinking. "What could Wet-Dry World be doing on a list of Super Mario Galaxies?" Well, it's a World in a 3D Mario platformer where you can collect Power Stars. Need I say more? And ever since Throwback Galaxy confirmed Whomp's Fortress is a Galaxy, it's easy to extend this logic to the rest of Super Mario 64. So Wet-Dry World gets to make the top 5 also.

I mean, how would it not? It's a galaxy with a cool and unique gimmick! The idea of the height you enter at deciding the water level when you enter in is super cool, and I love all the ways they tie this gimmick into the galaxy's different missions. And while this might seem like a small thing to a lot of people, as a mod of Weird Mario Enemies, I can't help myself: I will ALWAYS love a galaxy that includes such memorable enemies as Chuckya and Skeeter! So Cool!

Even in a time before Super Mario Galaxy, they managed to get the "otherworldly" feeling of this location down pat! I mean, there's the fact the skybox is distinctively underwater, even when you're on dry land, there's the fact the way you adjust the water level is via these abstract crystals, there's the whole abandoned underwater city, giving hints as to long-gone civilizations and possible Wet-Dry World Lore, this galaxy has it all! I know some people say it has a Negative Emotional Aura, but those people just don't know the meaning of good atmosphere.

3. SNES Mario Circuit 3

Tier: Good Debut: Super Mario Kart

For the #3 slot, it should only make sense that it's a place with "3" in the name. I know lots of you were probably expecting SNES Bowser Castle 3 to end up here, but it's just hard for me to ignore SNES Mario Circuit 3's legacy. I mean, it's been in five different games for crying out loud! It's hard for a course to show up in five games if it's not really good, right?

SNES Mario Circuit 3 may seem like a really basic course at a glance, what with it being completely flat and everything. Not a lot of bells and whistles in this one, that's for sure. But a better look at it reveals it to be a surprisingly technical track, with some tight turns that require good brake drifting to take optimally, and a bevy of off-road shortcuts that reward players for good item usage. While lots of courses get by thanks to their flashy gimmicks and setpieces, SNES Mario Circuit 3 cements itself as a fan-favorite as a pure test of players' skill. I mean, again, I have to assume it's a fan-favorite if it's in five games.

I also need to give a shoutout to SNES Mario Circuit 3's Atmosphere. The course has hardly changed at all since its original incarnation on the SNES, making it like, totally retro, and the staircases and flagpoles representing the original Super Mario Bros. only help to cement that identity. It also gives the course a very unique, almost liminal sort of feeling. The yellow sky is also an interesting touch. Is it merely set at sunset, or is it a biting commentary on how 30 years of go-karting have caused enough pollution to change the color of the sky? I'll let you be the judge.

Either way, it makes sense why this course has cemented itself as such a fan-favorite, and manages to always get picked in Mario Kart 8 Deluxe online lobbies. It's just that Good!

2. Milky Way Galaxy

Tier: X Game: Real

i live here hi!!!!!! :D

1. Sling Pod Galaxy

Tier: The "S" is for "Slingpodgalaxy" Game: Super Mario Galaxy

It's always the ones you least expect who win in the end... I may have ranked it dead last when I started this series, but by using the momentum of the Sling Pods, it managed to slingshot itself allllll the way to the top! Bet you didn't see this one coming! But really, it should be obvious. This galaxy is an incredible test of timing and precision, offering a good challenge for skilled players, and with an aesthetic reminiscent of the beautiful Space Junk Galaxy, it ends up winning me over in more ways than one!

There's no question that as soon as you have enough Star Bits saved up to reach Sling Pod Galaxy that you should make a mad dash to the Fountain and shove them all into that Hungry Luma's mouth, because the Sling Pod Galaxy is an experience you'll never forget! And since it's a great place to farm Star Bits too, it practically pays for itself! Bonus!

Wow! What a wild ride that was !!!! hopefully we all learned something at the end.

i'll post the real top 5 some other time i'm sorry

#super mario galaxy #super mario galaxy 2 #mod hooligon #april fools

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torialefay · 5 months

Text

🌕 Moon in Libra ♎️

bangchan as your boyfriend series!!! (pt. 4)

(based on astrology)

✨bangchan x reader (f); fluff & sad chan :(

✨word count: ~3.5k

✨4th part in a series!!! together, let’s take a look into chan’s natal chart to see what type of boyfriend he would be!

✨i will give a synopsis of what each chart placement means throughout the series (for all my non-astrology friends out there <3) and how that would affect channie in a relationship. head to my masterlist to check out the rest of the series <3

✨ author’s notes:

(1) i am doing brief (just bullet points/highlights) astrological compatibility readings if anyone wants one! if you’re interested, message me your birth date, time, and location OR lmk your placements. i’m gonna limit the reading to include you x 1 skz member only! just specify who you’d like.

(2) the aspects in this reading are based solely on my opinions and interpretations! nothing about a person is set in stone simply because of astrology. please don’t use anything i say as canon :)

(3) there is mention of another fandom in a not so great light. this is purely fictional and no offense was meant by including them. it’s simply for the storyline.

✨warnings: none

✨tldr: chan just wants to be loved.

Moon in Libra:

The Moon represents the deepest parts of yourself, the parts you are usually not even cognizant of. It is the basic energy that resides within you and what you radiate in the most still of situations. Your moon sign usually controls you in ways you aren’t aware of and draws you to certain people that you cannot explain.

• Moon in Libra has a deep NEED for love and beauty in their lives. This can be seen in the deepest parts of them. They are able to see the beauty in every person, and usually can see each person as who they really are instead of the mask they are showing the world. Because of this, he prefers to get to know people well before pursuing them in a relationship.

• Moon in Libra also highlyyyy values balance and peace in their lives. If they suspect that you are bringing drama into their lives in any way, they will most likely (very kindly) cut you out of their life. They will feel bad about it, but they need to protect their peace in order to feel comfortable in the world.

• Because of Libra’s tendency to be people pleasers, they truly seek external validation… they can take criticism very harshly. They do not like the drama and do not want to be involved in a scandal of any kind. It can, in fact, crush them, but they are too self sacrificing to say anything. They just want to make sure that people are pleased with them and they will do whatever they must do to get that.

Chan’s Moon in Libra is also in the 6th house (the house of work, routines, and health)

• Because of this, the balance in his life likely plays a largeeee role in how he performs during the day in work, in carrying out his plans for the day, and in how healthy he is staying.

• His Venus (beauty, love, and sensuality) and Mars (aggression and resolution) are also in the 6th house, meaning that if any aspect of his romance, emotions, or conflict are out of whack, so is he. He simply cannot get his work done or perform well. He is too in his head. That makes him push even harder.

*Important tidbits I learned from analyzing Chan’s natal chart!!! If you take ANYTHING away from this series, please let it be this:*

• Chan has a Libra placement for his Moon (emotions), Sun (personality), and Mercury (communication). This makes him a SUPER LIBRA. He basically identifies with it on another level.

• Here’s the problem: Libras are totally giving of themselves. Completely. They quite literally turn into whoever you want them to be. Because of that, they can really struggle with self image, not only in terms of wanting to be seen in a good light, but most importantly from the perspective of not even knowing themselves.

• Since they don’t have any one SET personality that they present to everyone, they don’t know who they are. Not fully. They may have some idea. They may know that they love people and that they think they are good people, but when it comes down to it, they feel lost.

• So what happens when you have this Libra energy in Sun, Moon, and Mercury? You feel hollow.

• It is very likely that at the end of the day, when all is said and done, Chan feels like the shell of a person. He works so hard for everyone around him, but who is he without that? If he were on his own, and if he didn’t live to please others, who would he be? Nobody. There would be no person underneath the mask. And that scares the fuck out of him.

• He NEEDS to be needed. It isn’t that he likes the attention, but he needs it to survive. Because without it, he is nothing.

—————————————————————

Focusing in now on only the Libra Sun (personality) and Libra Moon (emotions) for Chan:

• As I’ve previously discussed a million times, Libra suns need to be liked. They need harmony and balance, and they feel this through blending fully with others.

• Libra MOONS on the other hand, have a deeper desire. They don’t necessarily want to be loved on what they do, but for who they are and the way they think. Libra moons truly believe that they ARE good people who want to help. Because of this, their harmony and balance instead comes from KNOWING they are good, so they shouldn’t care what other people think of them.

• This manifests in Chan as having this war within himself of caring so much about how other people see him vs. knowing that he shouldn’t give a fuck.

• But at the end of the day, he does give a fuck. And that kills him too.

• So now, not only does he feel hollow on the inside, but he also KNOWS that he cares too deeply about shit that doesn’t even matter. But he can’t. help. it.

• He lives by the mantra “Just enjoy”, because it is something he so badly wants to be able to do.

• He likely manifests this in severe anxiety and not being able to sleep because of it. Throwing himself into work, because who is he if not the producer that his fans know and love? Laughing as much as he can to attempt to fill up the void inside of him.

• He only knows himself in relation to others. The worst thing he could ever experience is being on his own.

• This is likely why he struggled so bad in his trainee days. When everyone else got cut and he was the only one left.

• I’ve heard him explain before that it was a very dark time in his life, and that Stray Kids coming into his life is the only reason he is alive today.

• He is not over-exaggerating. Stray Kids literally gives him life. Without them, he feels like he is nothing.

• He simply cannot exist without them.

—————————————————————————

The last thing that I will add:

• Chan wants SO BADLY to learn how to not give a fuck. He NEEDS someone who can teach him that.

• He NEEDS someone who can show him how to find himself. He NEEEDS someone who will see the parts of him that he cannot see.

• If he can find someone to do this, this person will be his soulmate, I promise you.

As your boyfriend:

• “Hey there, pretty girl.” “You look so beautiful today.” “How did I get to lucky?” Chan tells you these things every day, leaning in to peck your forehead. Words of affirmation are his love language, so he would make sure you got them constantly.

• If you’ve had a long week at work/school, Chan is taking you somewhere beautiful on the weekend. Somewhere that the two of you can enjoy the beauty and the calmness together. Aka, he’s definitely taking you to a giant botanical garden, just to walk around and look at the flowers together. Walking hand in hand, he’d make sure to take breaks occasionally to get a candid photo of how pretty you look with the flowers in the background. You’d wonder off to a tiny side path, taking you to a small fairy garden with lights and a small bench. You would sit, just admiring the lights. Even though you weren’t supposed to, Chan would pick a flower off of the ground next to him and trim it down to just the right length. He’d place it in your hair, resting in the crook of your ear. He’d giggle at how cute you looked. Just like a little garden fairy.

• Chan would adore being your center of attention. He says he doesn’t, but it absolutely makes his heart melt to know that you were thinking about him. Whether it’s a painting, a song, a poem, a muse in any form, his inner self can’t help but to feel so seen.

• He loves it when you obsess over him. No, like actually he loves it. Again, he says he doesn’t, but the way it makes him feel is like none other. The fact that you think that highly of him to pour your entire self into him fills him up with love to the very brim. And he would absolutely be the same with you.

• He LOVES when you ask for his help or his advice. If you ever include the phrase, “I just wanted to know your thoughts because I really value your opinion”, then boom, he’s in love. Feeling needed gives him purpose in life.

• He would adore when you would dress up for him. No occasion, just to look pretty for him. Even though he thinks you’re always beautiful, the fact that you put in extra effort just for him to have something pretty to look at would really make him feel loved. Bonus points if you tried a style or a new item that he talked about really liking.

• If he had a hard day at work and came home to a home-cooked meal and a warm bath waiting on him, he would probably get so excited he wouldn’t even make it to the bathtub, being too busy hugging you.

• Chan is absolutely the type to avoid drama, and especially avoid you having to get involved in any drama at all costs.

• But your boyfriend was no novice to how cruel the online communities could be towards him.

• The week’s newest scandal: that he was saying nasty things about ATEEZ behind their back.

• And damn, did he get a lot of flack.

• What was the proof you may ask?… A tweet. A fucking tweet some random account (that was created 7 hours ago) sent out saying that she had been behind him and heard him saying awful things while on the phone with a friend. As “proof”, she posted the back of a man’s body who had on a black beanie, black hoodie, and black sweatpants.

• You had to give it to her, that was the iconic Channie outfit.

• But what she failed to realize: your man is literally 171 cm… no way in hell is he towering over everyone else like in the picture she posted.

• STAY knew that, but you know how the internet goes. One bad word, and the world is trying to cancel you.

• Well that “you” is now Channie. There’s been an all out fan war between STAY and ATINY to the point that it is now trending worldwide. ATINY trying to trend “#bangchanisoverparty” and damn, it was kinda working.

• When you both saw, you talked to Chan about it. He assured you that he was fine and it was nothing to worry about. He knew who he was and that’s all that mattered. If things got out of hand, JYP would make an official statement saying that it was not him in the photo and they would investigate into the account that posted about it.

• You were so proud of your boyfriend for how much he had overcome to be able to feel that way. You knew he struggled with a lot, and although you were helping him, you were so happy knowing that he was okay.

• Well, until you woke up in the middle of the night to hearing Channie crying softly, lying in the spot next to you.

• You listened quietly, pretending to still be asleep, so you could check on your boyfriend while still allowing him to have his own space.

• Your heart almost shattered as you heard him start to actually sob, reaching his hand up to his mouth in order to stop any sound from coming out.

• Even in his most desperate hour, he didn’t want to wake you. He didn’t want you to know.

• So you just laid there, eyes darting off to focus on the moon, while your back was turned away from him. Listening. Just listening.

• After a couple of minutes, you heard the sobs start to resolve, and deep breaths in began. Good, he was finally starting to feel better.

• You heard the bed sheets rustle a bit as he made the tiniest, slowest movements to reach for his phone on the nightstand.

• You knew that’s what he had to have been reaching for, as you saw a quick, bright flash of light coming in from behind you. You relaxed into the mattress as you heard him typing in his passcode, hopefully to play some light, soothing music to fall asleep to. You didn’t hear anything for the next couple of minutes.

• Content that Chan had successfully cried himself to sleep, you rolled to your other side to curl your body into his. You wanted to feel the warmth of his back pressed up against your chest. To rest your hand at the nape of his neck and hold on for as long as you could.

• To your surprise, your roll over did land you on top of Channie, but a very much awake and very much still on his phone Channie.

• He looked just as startled to see you, dropping his phone down onto his chest. His eyes were red and puffy. The rest of his face followed suit. You hated to see him cry, but you had to admit that he looked like an adorable little fluffball like this, especially with the curly hair all fluffed out from “tossing and turning” you guessed.

• “What are you doing up?” you whispered, playing dumb. You relaxed your hand on top of his chest and heaved your face down into him. You lifted your eyes up to look at his. So beautiful in the silver moon’s light.

• “I thought I heard my phone go off,” he lied.

• “Oh yeah? Who would be calling in the middle of the night?”

• “Minho. He probably went out for a few drinks, I don’t know. I didn’t answer it and was gonna text.” Damn, this boy was gonna do everything in his power to not admit to you that he was just crying.

• “Okay baby, let me know what he says,” you nuzzled into him, ready to watch this shit show of a lie go down.

• You watched as he quickly snatched up his phone, bringing it to rest right in front of his face. Not before you saw what he had actually been doing though.

• He’d been on twitter reading through comments. “#bangchanisoverparty” was pasted into the search bar at the top.

• You felt your heart shrivel up. Why does he do this to himself? Why does he care so much about what other people think about him?

• You sat and stared off, not sure if you should mention anything. You didn’t want to make things worse. But then again, what kind of girlfriend lets her boyfriend lay there and cry himself to death?

• “There,” Chan said, turning his phone off and laying it back on the bedside table. “I texted to see what he needs. Hopefully he replies back soon so I don’t fall back asleep and miss it.” This man is one good ass liar. Kinda scary now that you think about it, but whatever, that’s besides the point.

• “You’re a good friend Channie,” you scooted up to make sure your face was resting into the side of his neck. One arm extended around him to cover him in a light hug, and you just held him there for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, your eyelids got heavy again and you fluttered them closed.

• No more than 10 seconds later, they shot back open. You had felt a singular drop of water hit your face. A tear. He couldn’t lie now.

• You raised up to be above Chan, one hand still over his torso, and the other propping you up on your elbow. There were a few stray tears covering each cheek.

• The one hand moved up his body and slowly wiped at the tears on one side, making his perfect complexion visible once again. You kissed over the area with a touch as gentle as a feather.

• “What’s wrong baby?” you whispered while your head was just over top of his own.

• “Nothing baby, please go back to sleep,” he choked out, letting a light sniffle escape him.

• “I’m not going back to sleep until you talk to me.”

• “Please, y/n. Please just go back to sleep.”

• “No. Talk to me. Why were you on twitter?”

• He looked mortified. He didn’t answer. He just laid there, looking off to the side with an expression on his face like he could start crying again at any moment.

• You relaxed off of your elbow and sunk back into him again. You tangled your hand into his hair and started playing with it. Rolling it around in between your fingers. You started combing your hand through it in tiny strokes. You were learning to relax into the silence.

• You let the whole weight of your hand rest onto his scalp, running down it and to the nape of his neck. You repeated this a few times, hoping that he would get some light tingles over his body and start to perk up.

• You slowly moved your hand to caress the top of his ear, running a finger along the outer rim. Your touch was so slight that he couldn’t tell if he was imagining it, but it did soothe him. He thought about how reminiscent it was of what he would always do- touch his ears to calm himself. You knew this too of course. That’s why you were doing it.

• Chan knew why you were doing it too. You knew him better than he knew himself.

• You continued to stroke along his ear, adding more fingers and more pressure until you were massaging his ear lobe. Pressing your fingers into the skin of the area right behind where his ear met his skull. You massaged a low place here, rubbing small circles with just enough pressure.

• You slowly continued to drag your hand down to his neck, working again now in light strokes to feel all up and down the side and front. So smooth, you thought.

• You followed suit with your lips, pulling them to the area just between his ear and jaw. You planted a slow, low kiss to his most sensitive area.

• You felt the familiar sensation of wetness again. The taste of salt. Of course it had been another tear resting there for you to find and take away. You wished you could take away all the pain.

• You finally moved your hand all the way down to find his. You gave it a small squeeze, and then brought it up to relax over your own situated on his chest right over his heart. You sat in silence, feeling the strong beat inside. Just enjoying the warmth of his body underneath you.

• “You are so perfect,” you kissed his arm, admiring how hard his bicep was.

• All of a sudden, his stillness turned into a sob again. He tried to break his hand away from yours so he could cover up his eyes and the rest of his face.

• “No baby, you let me keep this hand,” you whispered. “It’s okay to cry, but at the end of it, I need you to know how loved you are. How so many people would kill just to see a smile on your face. How you can make a person’s day better just by being in it. How every time I look at you, I think that there must be a god, because how could there be something as perfect as you without a creator to make it?”

• You heard his tears stifle. He let out a weak smile. Your heart reciprocated the gesture.

• “There’s my beautiful boy,” you kissed his temple.

• “Now tell me baby,” you leaned back up to rest your forehead just on top of his, noses almost touching. “Do you think a life so full of love like that is worth crying over?”

• His tiny smile turned into a big one, leaving his bashful dimples on display. He took a moment and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

• He let out a small giggle. “No,” he looked into your eyes.

• “Good answer,” you leaned your face in the tiniest bit to touch a kiss on top of each eyelid. Satisfied, you resigned to your position of curling up next to him, head positioned to fit perfectly to his neck, two hands holding both of his own.

• “I love you,” he murmured.

• “I love you too Channie. And I wasn’t lying, you really are perfect. The last person left to convince is yourself.”

Moon in Libra.

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sev-on-kamino · 10 months

Text

Absence//Fonder Pt. 2

Summary: The boys surprise you with a trip to your home world and a vocabulary lesson.

Pairing: The Bad Batch x medic fem!reader (pronouns she/her, no physical descriptions, no y/n, pet names)

Warnings: Crosshair, angst (not much I swear!), fluff so sweet you’ll need your dentist, sweet kisses ( the smut happens in chapter 3 😏) but MINORS DNI

Written while listening to “Tell Her You Love Her” by Echosmith

Series playlist can be found here!

Part 1 Part 3

Word count: 3132

Crosshair had been called many things in his life. Talented, cocky, aloof to name a few. No one had ever called him a coward though. It was in his very nature to look at the impossible and find a way.

The odds didn’t matter.

He and his brothers had faced forces that would have given much larger squads pause, and they’d never hesitated. Never felt like they couldn’t get the job done.

Yet there he was, stomach twisted into knots, muscles in his legs twitching with the desire to bolt, afraid. Not afraid of a battalion of clankers, rollies, and spiders.

No. He was afraid of a nat born medic, who clutched Wrecker’s arm like a lifeline during turbulence. A medic who could sew up her own wounded leg without batting an eye, but would discharge her blaster at the sight of an insect. A medic who was the epitome of soft, yet had the power to crush him in the palm of her hand.

He’d never told anyone he cared for them, nor had he asked anyone what they felt for him. Quite frankly he didn’t give a fuck. The fleeting attentions of strangers, whose names he would forget immediately, had been more than enough to scratch the well-concealed itch for a semblance of connection.

Now, you were ruining him without even trying. Punching a hole straight through his carefully crafted armor. Making him weak.

And in a few moments, depending on your reaction, you could break all five of them. Clone Force 99 could be brought to its knees by you in a single instant.

He watched his brothers as they led you towards the location Tech had chosen. Excitement radiated off of you like a sun’s rays. He would never admit it, but he was dying to be wrong this time. He wanted to believe that you could love them. That you could love him.

Blindfolded, you were unable to see the looks of hope and affection etched onto their shared features. You were simply excited for another adventure with them. Hunter’s hands rested securely on your shoulders with your hands over them.

The sergeant had woken you up upon landing with a bandana in hand.

“We’ve got a surprise for you,” he said, as you got dressed.

“Really?” you asked, mind racing as you tried to imagine what it was. It wasn’t your birthday, their decant day, or any other holiday. Not that it mattered. The fact that the five of them had formed a plan to surprise you damn near made your brain short circuit. That showed a level of care and consideration you had rarely even received from people you were seriously dating.

“Yep, gotta make sure you don’t peek though,” he said waving the bandana.

You resisted the urge to make a filthy joke about being tied up for them and instead turned so Hunter could tie the bandana on. The world went dark, and you took a nervous breath until you felt Hunter’s hands on your shoulders, and you relaxed. He would never let anything happen to you.

“Where’s my bucket?” You asked, suddenly feeling naked without it.

“You won’t need it here,” Hunter said, steering you towards the door.

“Is this some kind of initiation thing?” you asked, breaking the silence. “Testing my bravery to prove I’m one of you?”

Wrecker snorted, “That’s a pretty good idea! We could dangle you over a cliff by your ankle?”

“If I don’t scream, I’m in?” You asked with a giggle.

“Grow up, you two,” Crosshair said, and you swore you could hear him rolling his eyes.

“…yes.” Wrecker whispered in answer to your question, setting off more giggles.

“We’ve got a little hike coming up, so one of us will carry you,” Hunter said, as you all came to a stop.

Even blindfolded you knew where all of them were by their steps. You reached for Wrecker, but Hunter caught your hand.

“Wrecker’s got his hands full,” Hunter said, and you could hear a smile in his voice. It made your stomach flip with excitement.

“Ooooh, the plot thickens.” You stepped forward and instead found Tech’s shoulders, wrapping your arms around him. You made a soft noise of surprise, as he grabbed your thighs, and hoisted you off the ground easily.

“Are you comfortable?” Tech asked.

“Yes, sir,” you reply, face pressed against the side of Tech’s helmet.

You hum softly, listening to the sound of your squads’ steps, mind conjuring all sorts of fantastic scenarios for what they could have planned.

It was quiet and warm, and you could hear their boots crunching over dry ground, so you knew you weren’t on Kamino. You had been sleeping for the majority of the trip, and blindfolded before stepping off of the ship, so you couldn’t use the stars for clues.

You hummed softly as the trek continued, occasionally grinning when Wrecker would chuckle at some joke from Echo you couldn’t quite make out. You were close to beginning a round of “Are we there yet?” when Tech stopped, and slowly released his grip on your thighs.

“We have arrived at our intended destination,” he said, as you got your feet under yourself after several minutes of being carried.

Hunter removed the bandana, and you looked around. A small city twinkled in the valley below your position atop a massive hill. You looked to the rich blue night sky above, and connected the stars. Your brow furrowed a moment before the realization hit you. You were home…well, your home world. Home was the Marauder now. A lump formed in your throat, and tears pooled in your eyes.

“You brought me home?” You asked, turning to face them, smiling even as the tears poured down your face.

“We missed you, and we thought this would be a good welcome home surprise,” Echo said.

“It was Hunter’s idea,” Tech supplied.

“Oh, Hunter, this is perfect!” You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his chest. “Thank you.”

Hunter held you close a moment, before releasing you slowly to smile down at you.

“This is a pretty special spot, you know?” You asked tucking your arms behind your back and rising up on the balls of your feet.

“Yes, I selected it for that very reason. The local population has designated this as a place to share important news with loved ones,” Tech said, clearly proud of himself.

“Right as always, Tech,” you beamed at him. “Planning to share some news?”

“Actually we thought today might be a nice day to teach you some Mando’a, so you know what we’re saying to you,” Hunter said nodding towards Wrecker, who took a deep breath and stepped up to take your hands.

“Finally!” You cheered, buzzing with excitement.

A bright smile lit up your features as you looked up at him. He smiled warmly, eyes roaming your face. You’d only been gone a couple of weeks, but Wrecker had missed you fiercely every moment.

“Well, we call you ‘mesh’la’ cause it means beautiful. Easy to see why. You are beautiful inside and out,” Wrecker said before taking you gently by your arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Your heart jumped and your breath hitched. You cleared your throat and said, “I knew I liked that one.”

He smiled warmly, and stepped to the side, gently guiding you to Echo, who took one of your hands next. He rested his scomplink against your waist, and you held his bicep, as you beamed expectantly at him.

“We call you ‘saraad’ because it means flower. You make every place you’re in brighter, more alive.” Echo kissed your forehead, and you felt anticipation buzzing in your chest. Your heart beat faster than before, as Tech took his place before you could even react.

“Senaar’ika means little bird. You are always eager to take flight whether you are ready or not. Brave, reckless to be certain, but brave nonetheless,” straight to the point as ever, Tech pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You released a shuddering breath, your face warming up under their gentle affections. Am I dreaming? You thought, now scared to move or speak for fear of breaking the spell they were weaving around you.

Hunter hesitated only a moment before resting a hand on your waist, as the other cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your cheekbone. Your eyes met his, as you placed your hands on his chest and held your breath.

“‘Cyare’ is one you’ve heard more and more lately. The closest word in basic is beloved,” Hunter said, and you knew he’d heard your heart skip a beat before racing away.

“You’re special to us, and we want to keep you close…closer,” Hunter took a deep breath, his warm brown eyes held yours. “We’ve fallen for you, and we hope that’s ok. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.”

“You’ve fallen for me? I-, I…I can’t even…” you stammered, simultaneously thrilled and confused. You took a deep breath, lifting one hand to rest over his against your face, the other sliding up to caress his face.

“Is it ok, if I kiss you now?” He asked. You nodded immediately.

He smiled and leaned down to press his lips to yours. You didn’t wake up. His arm wrapped around your waist, and you knew it was real. He pulled back and pressed his forehead to yours.

“Been wanting to do that for awhile now,” he confessed.

“That makes two of us…or maybe 6 of us,” you said with a nervous laugh.

You’d thought of no less than a dozen different scenarios when Hunter had blindfolded you, but you never imagined this could be a possibility. Not even in your wildest dreams did you allow yourself to believe that the 5 amazing men standing before you could care for you the way you cared for them.

There’s a relieved sigh from behind Hunter, and you leaned around him to see Crosshair properly. His eyes were taking you in much like he had upon your return. Drinking you in while he figured out what to say. You looked up at Hunter, and he nodded, stepping back to give you a path to Crosshair. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards the sniper.

For the first time since you met him, you reached for Crosshair, taking hold of him with confidence. Your eyes met his, a light smile playing on your lips.

“Any special words you wanna teach me, Crosshair?” You asked, hoping your voice was steady.

“You already know my favorite word for you. The one that’s been going through my mind since you left,” Crosshair said quietly, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.

“And what word would that be?” you asked, moving closer to let your lips brush his.

“Mine,” he said before closing the distance between you, kissing you with relief. The first kiss had been almost hesistant, as a part of him was sure he was stealing affection that wasn’t meant for him. But it was meant for him. You wanted him…all of them. You weren’t running away or pulling back. You were in his arms, holding him close like he belonged to you.

Wrecker cleared his throat noisily, and Crosshair broke the kiss to give him a look.

“Just for that, you can go last,” Crosshair sneered, guiding you towards Tech, who pulled you close and let his arms settle comfortably around your waist. Just like before your arms rested over his shoulders, this time your fingers carded gently through his hair.

“I hope that you will be willing to answer a few questions for me, senaar’ika. I have been compiling data for quite some time, and despite today’s success, I still have some theories to test in order to draw definitive conclusions.”

“I’ll indulge your experiments, if you’ll indulge mine,” you said with a mysterious little smile.

“Well, of course, I am more than happy to assist in the pursuit of knowledge,” Tech replied. Happy with your response he leaned in to brush his lips softly over yours. You whined, wanting more, and he pressed closer, letting you feel his need for you. Tech’s kiss was just like him, a curious exploration that left you giddy.

He pulled back, and opened his mouth to say more, but Wrecker cut him off, “Maker, Tech, you can talk her ear off later. We’ve still got another thing to give her!”

“Despite the rudeness of his delivery, Wrecker is correct. We do have another surprise for you,” Tech said, releasing you slowly, as Echo moved close to pull you into his arms.

“I almost slipped up and kissed you last night, so I may need to make up for that,” Echo said, before kissing you slow and deep. You were so sure your heart was actually going to break its way out of your ribcage if they kept going at this rate.

“Stars, Echo, I can think of a few more things for you to make up,” you said breathlessly, as he pulled back with a grin.

“Finally!” Wrecker said, spinning you around and scooping you up into his arms to press the softest kiss of all to your lips. He handled you with such care and affection, you couldn’t help but sigh happily against his lips.

“Kriff me, if I’d known this would happen, I’d have left sooner,” you said with a laugh, as Wrecker set you back down on your feet.

“Well, no more running off to help Cody because we missed you too much,” Wrecker said, caressing your face gently.

“I promise I won’t be doing that again for quite some time,” you confessed.

“Good, because Cross here, was worse than usual,” Hunter teased.

Crosshair scowled and folded his arms. “Just tell her the next surprise.”

“You belong with us no matter what, so Crosshair gave your helmet a little update,” Echo said from just beyond Wrecker, where Hunter and Tech had set up a fire, and a tent. You suspected that’s what had kept Wrecker’s hands full.

Echo straightened up and passed you your bucket. You looked down at it, and a smile slowly spread across your face. A tiny skull and a 99 now adorned your helmet like a kiss on the cheek.

“Cross, you did this for me?” You asked, turning to the sniper. It was difficult to tell in the low light, you could have sworn he was blushing.

“We thought you might like it,” Hunter said.

“I love it.”

***

The six of you gathered around a happily crackling fire, as you finally answered all of their questions about your time away. Crosshair watched you with rapt attention, appreciating all of your little quirks, as you discussed the missions you’d participated in, including the one that had resulted in your injury.

“Still pissed you got shot. Not surprised though. That always happens with regs,” Wrecker said, tightening his hold on your waist, as he held you to his side.

“Hey!” Echo said, leaning around you and gesturing to himself. “I’d never let her get shot.”

“You know I don’t mean you, Echo,” Wrecker said dismissively.

“It’s just a scratch, boys,” you laughed. “There’s barely even a scar.”

“We sent you to Commander Cody with no scratches, and we expected you to come back in the same condition,” Crosshair said gesturing at you with a toothpick.

“Though I would have chosen a less objectifying way to phrase it, I agree with Crosshair,” Tech said, looking up from his datapad. “I would have thought you would be in excellent hands with our Marshal Commander, and not in a position to take damage from a sniper.”

“Awwww, did Cody let your favorite toy get all scuffed? You want a new one?” You asked with a teasing lilt to your voice.

Crosshair shook his head slowly. Tech looked offended at the suggestion.

“And have to break in another one?” Hunter interjected. “No way. You’re stuck with us now.”

“Oh no,” you gasped in mock anguish. “Whatever shall I do? Stuck with my favorite people in the galaxy. Torture.”

You draped yourself dramatically over Wrecker’s legs, much to his amusement. His hearty laughter rumbled out of his chest, as he pulled you close to his chest, so you were sitting in his lap.

“Your favorite people? In the whole galaxy?” He asked, his mismatched eyes full of hope as they focused on yours.

“Absolutely. You have been for awhile,” you confessed. “I hated being away from all of you.” You looked around the fire at each of them before bringing your focus back to Wrecker. “I mean it. I don’t wanna do that again for a good long while.”

Satisfied, Wrecker cupped your face and brought his lips to yours again. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you felt yourself relax against him. His lips moved over yours with a gentle confidence that made you hum low in your throat, and press closer to him.

You broke the kiss, as a yawn forced its way out of you. You were still absolutely exhausted. The thrill of their confession had given you the sweetest sugar high, and you were crashing.

“You require rest,” Tech said, “I will take first watch.”

“I’ll take it,” Crosshair said, shooting a glance at Hunter, who had covered him the night before. He’d gotten you all to himself for several hours, and he knew the others were itching to snuggle with you. He was too relieved to be selfish. For now.

You stood up and stretched, reaching for the sky you’d grown up under before wandering over to Crosshair and kneeling down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Come snuggle with me soon,” you whispered.

He nodded, as he watched you rise and make your way into the tent.

“We’ll keep you company, Cross,” Wrecker said with a grin, as Tech and Echo followed you into the tent, and Hunter relaxed on his back to look up at the stars.

“Oh goody,” the sniper replied with a halfhearted roll of his eyes.

***

You’d worried it would be awkward, but going to sleep between Tech and Echo felt as natural as breathing. Echo spooned up behind you, your face against Tech’s chest. The three of you chatted quietly for a little while, while their hands moved over your body absently.

You began to drift in and out of consciousness, despite your desire to stay awake and enjoy their presence.

“Sleep, saraad,” Echo commanded gently. “We’ll all be here in the morning.”

“Promise?” You asked sleepily, as you nuzzled against Tech.

“Promise,” He said, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Warm and safe, you left yourself drift away.

tagging: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @iamburdened @sunshinesdaydream @mythical-illustrator @the1sunshine1girl @stardusthuntress @thebahdbitch @wings-and-beskar @arctrooper69 @golden-nyx-ghost @iloveallmenandwomen @rexxdjarin @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @ceraryn09 @skellymom @808tsuika

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rinbowaman · 7 months

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HI REINAA!! sorry if im bothering you since ur busy w the series fics!! But i would really want to req another fic of sunoo hahaha. So reader is 8th member and pleeeaaadseee make it rlyy smutty!! It could be where yn teases sunoo during dinner and he gets hard then... but plsss make sunoo a sub in this thanks <3 (Fyi ur literally the best writer ever idk how u manage to write these so descriptively and managing to make me feel things LMAOO the other accs i follow wont reply my asks ☠️) thanks alot like alooottttttttt though!! <33

”Sunoo Baby.”

part 2 of “Ddeonu”.

Warnings: Sub/switch!Sunoo, Dom!Reader, unprotected smut, creampie smut, oral (both male and female receiving, demeaning behavior, submissive demands, ball tapping (you already know...), whining, hair pulling, smut dialogue, reverse psychology (not really but i dont know what else to call it.....you'll see what i mean) if you squint, there's a breeding kink....i think that's it.

You and the boys decide to grab a bit at a local hot pot eatery. No one knew of the event that unfolded the week prior of you and Sunoo's 'talk', and believe you, there were many more that followed suit.

.................................

"Look at how cute you look when you take in so much muscle."

"You look so cute when you cry."

"Get up, cutie."

..................................

You had to admit, Sunoo opening up and becoming fond of you allowed for a whole new version of yourself to rise. You loved his sassy and demeaning manners, the way he called you 'cute' and revealing how the more feminine side of your nature was something he had been wanting to see ever since the group had debuted. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders once you realized that all it took was for you to lighten up on your tomboyish persona, and be...well, a girl, for once.

But now you were comfortable. You gained closure and have little reason to expose that girlish nature, such as crying in the middle of the night, all because you thought a certain someone didn't like you. Well you were partially right, there was definitely a dislike, but it wasn't you, just your lack of girly attributes, and the reluctant hesitancy of doing what is the most commonly, demanding act in the industry, the 'ayego's.

Throughout dinner, you observed the way his sharp eyes flickered back and forth between black and hazel under the heat lamp. He was so beautiful. He told you of how important it was to not let anyone know of the secret love affairs that had been ongoing, so naturally that only meant he had to play the part well in acting out as a very nonchalant bastard. Trust you to say, he played the part well.

He'd glance over from time to time, even winking while everyone was nose deep in the menu's, but for some reason, you weren't feeling terribly satisfied. Sure it was nice for him to 'like' you now. One could even say that he cared a great deal for you, considering what he's said to you in bed. But there was something about him that you had wanted to pin down and crush; you're not exactly sure why, but now that there was closure between you two, you felt the need to establish yourself as the equal, especially since he caught you crying.

You ignored his advances, and even rolled your eyes at one point. He took note of your rather obscured behavior, and furrowed his brows in worry when no one was looking. You flared a side shoulder hunch while looking at him directly, mouthing the whispered words of "I'm going to destroy you."

Now Sunoo had an attitude of his own, but there was something rather peculiar when it came to someone matching his level. It's never happened before, yet he had to say, he was kind of digging it. He reaches below the table to gently tap his fingers along your kneecap, only for you to slap his hand way so roughly. Wincing slightly, he nearly gasps after witnessing your response to his touch.

"How could she?...."

He reiterates his action, only for yo to repeat your previous response and slap his hand away once more. Confused, Sunoo couldn't tell if he should have been offended or desired more of whatever game it was you were playing at. Something told him that it was the latter, and that 'something' was hardening under his trousers.

"Oh God..." he whispered under his breath, trying to shake his legs out strategically without anyone noticing. Nothing helped, even the cold ice water that he had 'accidently' dropped on his lap. The car ride home had to be the longest drive he felt in so long...

Once you all got back to the dorm, you bid goodnight and head to your room. Everyone else did the same, and went to sleep with fully tummies. Sunoo, on the other hand, was still hungry, and the way you had been treating him at dinner, he was famished.

Knocking on your door, he enters. "What's up with you? What was up with dinner?"

"Never mind. I'm going to bed."

"Why are you being so---"

"So what?....Cute?" you scoffed out as you raised a brow his way. "I'm glad we got to clarify our feelings, I just wish you could embrace my tomboy-ish ways just as you can with my feminine manners."

Sunoo gulps down a lump of saliva. "Well then...show me."

"What?"

"I got a taste of it at dinner...and....not gonna lie, I kind of want more." he admits, side-eyeing the wall out of embarassment. You never saw him this way, but considering he's loved on you for over a week now, maybe he really did see the light in all of your attributes, to include your non-girlish ones. Just to be sure, you put it to the test.

"Come here." you speak out in a rather high pitched, yet demanding tone. And just as you had suspected, he did exactly what you commanded. "Too easy..."

Grabbing onto his copper red hair, you pull his head back and expose that delicate throat of his. He gasps out with a masculine moan, yet it was as sweet as fruit nectar. You stick your lips onto the soft spot, and sucked profusely, just until a nice mark was left. "My territory." you exclaimed. You thought he would have bit back, yet you were somewhat surprised when he breathed out heavily and bid you to, "do more."

That was all he needed to say, and the tomboy sense in you reacted by pushing him down on your bedspread. You crawl atop of his broad frame, and perched yourself nicely on his groin. He whimpers out in feeling your pelvis grind against his sensitive member. "Aww...what a sweet face." you remark as you drag your finger down his cheek. You stand back up and with your arms crossed, you tell him to undress you...with his mouth.

You guide him with your words to start from the top, and work his way down. He removes your blouse, by kissing your belly button and grabbing hold of the material with his teeth, dragging it upward as he finishes in removing it. Your bra came off immediately after; your jeans were already removed before he entered your room, leaving only your panties remaining. Aiming to remove the last piece of cloth on your body, you tell him to...

"Get on all fours and take it off with your tongue."

He looks up rather bewildered and shocked, his eyes wide with a sense of wonderment. Nodding, he feeds his tongue in between where the cloth meets the plush lips that cradles your opening. God, it felt so good to feel that slick muscle squirming through, finding leverage to pull the material down.

Once he managed to find a way, he drags your underwear down your legs, the flat surface of his tongue grazes against the skin of your inner thighs and calves. Fully removed with you bare, you push him back down made haste as you crawled back on top, only this time, you didn't settle for his groin.

"Clean me real good."

Sitting on his face, his nose rubs the bud of your clitoris while his tongue shoves its way into your opening. He loops his hands up and over your thighs, grabbing hold of your derriere. You could tell by the way he slapped his palms on the cheeks, he was starving for you. You grab the front pieces of his hair and buried his face in deeper as you grind away, riding his tongue with a waving motion that made ocean water look stale.

"Oh my God! Keep going! Don't--don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

You incorporate a slight bouncing motion as you felt his tongue thrusting in and out. You reach behind and pin his hands onto your lower back, continuously coasting his mouth, leaving him no chance to rest.

"Oh fuck I'm going to cum!" you whimpered out as you glazed his entire face. He licks it up, starting with soft and tiny licks, resembling a puppy. "Lick it all up for me." you tell him, at that point the slight bit of his dominant side comes out, the side you were familiar with. You watched as he narrows his eyes, watching how the puppy grew into a fox and emitted harsh, long licks from top to bottom.

You adjusted your position and became parallel to his frame. Grabbing hold at the base of his shaft, you whipped his length around, tapping it roughly against your tongue. He winces in a mixture of discomfort and pleasure; the sensitivity was almost unbearable, and though it would have been pleasing for you to handle him gently, there was something about feeling the sting of this sensation that made him crave more.

"Ah!" he hisses, indicating the pain overriding all other sensations. "Wan't me to return the favor, 'cutie'?" your tone was somewhat condescending, yet he didn't care. He needed the release so badly, and you were the only one that could give it to him. Nodding frantically, he begs you to give him what he needed.

"Beg some more." you coarsely tell him.

"Oh fuck! Please....pl-please....please, y/n....I'll do anything, just...just fuck me to pieces already!"

You gave off small, subtle licks on the shaft, placing soft kisses up and down while twirling your tongue around the bulbous tip. "Whose the cutie now?"

"You are...AH!"

It was rather bold of him to be so daring, yet a quick slap of your palm reminded him that you weren't playing anymore games. After all, dare he tell others that he didn't like you? He barely knew you! How dare he cause you to cry? Then all of a sudden became our knight in shining armor and came to your aid. How dare he...call you 'cute'?

"One more time, who is the cutie now?"

"Fuck! ah! me....it's me!"

Another slap to his ballsack did him in, and you felt delighted upon hearing him say it. "Still want me to destroy you?"

In a flickering moment, his eyes narrowed down even more, like tight slits, they were sharp enough to cut steel. "Oh yeah..." in a blink of an eye, his deep tone loses all whine and desperation, his arm loops around as he nearly picks your entire form up in the air and slams you down on the bed, tumbling over you. The tables had turned.

"Should of destroyed me when you had the chance, cutie."

"Stop calling me that!"

You fling your hands up, yet he pins them down in an instant, allowing the masculinity of his boyish nature to come through. "Cutie, cutie, cutie. I'm gonna fuck you...cutie."

Your eyes widen upon feeling him rushing in. He didn't even take the time to ease his way through, instead, you felt the shoving thickness and length tapping in, breaking through your walls as the stretch causes your back to arch.

"Yeah...I bet that feels so good..."

"S-slow....slow...d-down......slow down!" you barely could catch your breath, yet he remained ignorant to your words and kept up with his momentum. "But you're so cute when I fuck around with you."

The moment he was all in, you swallowed your words as the new pace he took on made his previous one seemed much slower and easy. Bringing back his whiny voice, he whimpers out in a begging tone, yet still maintained control. It was all so conflicting the way he spoke with his actions not at all mirroring his tone.

"Oh baby...please...please let me feel good....let me cum."

"W-what....Ssssunoo......what....what are you doing....to me!?" you gasped out, a roaring and thrilling sensation of ecstasy punctures your gut each time he thrusts in. "Oh baby....cute baby....I wanna cum so badly....I wanna cum inside you.....I'll be a good boy."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hear his desperate please, yet he continued to fuck you like a raging bull. You couldn't make any sense of it, but it didn't matter. Between hearing his high pitched cries and feeling his cock rupturing your entrance, you could feel the eruption of a bursting orgasm reaching through, it was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

"Oh! I'm....oh my God you're going to make me cum!" you gasped out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you furrowed your brows and looked up with both worry and desperation, expressing both fear for pregnancy and hope that he would not stop.

"My girl, let me cum! Please let me cum deep inside, I promise I'll be a good boy, okay? Just please let me put it all in..."

"Ah! Sssssunoo! Baby!" you felt your cavity flooding out as a rush of warm liquid splashes against his thrusting member, squelching against your skin as he continues to move in and out.

"Please baby! I...I can't hold it in much longer!"

"No Sunoo don't!" you pleaded, yet your heart wasn't all in. You wanted him to, you needed him to do it. There was just something so enthralling about having your words flaring the opposite of your heart's content, much like what he had been doing.

"Oh baby I can't help it! I'm going to cum!"

"Oh please! Sunoo don't! You're going to get me pregnant!"

"Baby I can't stop!"

"Sunoo!"

Your thighs vibrate as you feel the warm liquid seep deep inside your wet muscles. Pleading him to stop, yet wanting him to give you his all had brought about the most intense sexual vigor that you never though existed.

"Oh fuck baby.....cutie....my cute girl...I'm cumming....I promise to be good, just please let me cum inside you everyday, okay?"

Kissing your forehead, he rode out his high and kept up with the psychological collision of being verbally submissive, yet physically dominating. Perhaps to others it wouldn't make sense, but for you and him, it was your own love language that you both developed and embraced.

"Fine...." you caught your breath and speak in a soft tone. "I'll let you do it, but you have to promise me you'll be a good boy, and listen to what I say."

"Yes...my cute girl"

"Don't call me cute...Sunoo."

"Then don't call me 'baby.'"

Rolling your eyes, you both chuckle as you nod in agreement.

Your bodies remained plastered as you both felt the strength of fatigue kicking in, knocking you both out. Just before you drifted off, you took one last look at him. "Sunoo baby...my Sunoo..."

Asleep, you lay soundlessly as he opens both his fox eyes, hearing you mumble those words in secret. "My cute girl."

-Fin

Authors Note: @sunoosrightbuttcheek , i hope you dont mind, i added a little bit of a flare to the sub!sunoo and made him into a little bit of a switch sub/dom, just to make it a little more interesting for you 😏

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️

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lexluvswriting · 2 months

Text

L'autunno - Eris x balletdancer!fem!reader

☆ Ch: 1 [next page]

-> Content Warning (CW): x fem!reader, slow-burn, rivals to lovers, tinkle of angst, fluff, non-specified identity, no specific time in storyline except it is a few months after Amarantha. live, laugh, love 2 lesbian mothers!!

-> Trigger Warnings (TW): Eris Vanserra, mentions of racism, mentions of discrimination, mentions of forced removal from homes (cant think of the name rn), Beron Vanserra is a massive cunt.

W/C: 2.8k

╰┈➤ Lex's note: omg eris fic is here grahhh!!! the title for this comes from Vivaldi's Four Seasons Concerto album, which i did listen to while writing this, yes yes. Eris has is a massive dick, but i'd like to believe he's a massive cunt for a reason that will... hopefully be revealed better- though Morrigan's suffering is not excusable at all! and i hope reader can hold him accountable throughout the series!! (she will). this will absolutely be a ride for all of us. while reader is fem and i have not specified any identity aside from Summer Court, I do make a few plays at racism, which there absolutely was in ACOTAR. so if this does feel a bit daunting, triggering and hurts, please let me know if it feels like i have written a little too intensely- i'm basing it off of personal, and researched experiences.

A violin filled the studio, wafting around like a strong scent- hypnotic as you inhaled deeply, eyes shut to steel yourself and count in before your arms swung up and out, fingers and feet pointed within your ballet shoes as you began to dance. Careful, calculated steps sent you spinning around the room- the perfect prima of your time. A prime example for those who dream to even come close to your level.

In a room of fire, your movements were fluid. In a room of embers, you were a tidal wave. Your body poise and malleable as you stretched yourself alluringly to those who watched as you swayed for the sweet symphony of violins. Eyes watched you from a concealed viewing platform high above- russet spheres simmering with a flame of interest that was bound to end in a fiery mess.

“Her. I want her to perform for the Equinox.”

“She’s quite the star, isn’t she?” Your mentor nodded, eyes twinkling with pride, before he wore his favourite facade- an arrogant smirk on his lips as he inspected his manicured nails. Eris’ face was impassive, yet any trained, or similarly minded individual would see the need for greed in his russet eyes as he glared down at you, pupils flaring possessively.

“She’s my starlet, young Lord. I cannot let her perform without any… payment. She will be put through harsh training- stretching, extension of her muscles, and her diet will be limited- to ensure she is tamed and perfect for the Lord’s family. I know the Lady of Autumn thoroughly enjoys the…” He trailed off nervously as Eris held up a silencing hand, the young heir fixing him with a cold stare- despite the fire in his veins.

“Spare me. Your pocket will be stuffed accordingly. But I warn you,” With one hand he grabbed the collar of the weaker male’s shirt with a predatory grace,

She must be perfect, or else we won’t have her, and the only old you’ll see is the Vanserra signet ring imprinted in your cheek.” His hand clenched accordingly, the Vanserra signet ring- the emblem of the Autumn Court banners carved in the pure gold, making Gustav still and nod compliantly. The heir dismissively waved for a servant to hand your instructor a list before storming out- ignoring your dancing figure.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

“Wrong! When we kick, our leg must come out-”

A cold hand clamped around your calf, another hand pushing just above your knee, the joint loose like a hinge. Your face was impassive- unmoving even as a small ‘pop’ echoed from somewhere in your knee. One of the junior dancers recoiled visibly, hiding her face behind her hands as a cluster of them watched you be used like a demonstration doll for your instructor.

“Stiff! Strong! Not flabby and weak. We are not caterpillars- we are butterflies. We are not brutish fires, we are?”

“Dancing flames.” The dancers replied in a drone of young feminine voices, with a few meek boys who looked like they were on the verge of clawing their eyes out. Gustav was being a right pain in the ass as always, but today he seemed more sharpened. Another lecture, another scolding, but it was always,

“For the better! I do this for your own good, my dears! When the Equinox arises and we are in front of your esteemed Lord, I know his lordship would enjoy seeing his dancers disciplined. Lean and poise. Controlled.”

The cold hand that held your leg squeezed once in warning- ‘I’m talking about you too’, before letting go, as your instructor sighed with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“That is why we dance the way we dance, and why I speak the way I do. Now leave me! And warm down appropriately or I will personally see to it that the muscles you take for granted will tear.” A curl of the lip in a low, warning snarl, before he waved with a sweeter disposition.

“Adequate work today, my dears!” Footsteps echoed as the younger dancers left first, whispers filling the halls as they eagerly complained about their instructor. The older ones bid polite greetings of farewell as they followed, until you were the last to leave. The prima. Gus liked to call you the ‘Summer jewel in the Autumn box’.

“Ah, ah, ah! I mean it, my jewel. No going off and doing your own thing.” You pause. His voice carried a weariness of someone twice his age, before he covered it up with his usual airy arrogance, “The Lord will be hosting important families at this gathering. Something big is on the horizon and I know he will be watching you closely.”

Ah, yes. Kicking out all the non-fae and those who hail from other courts. The nationalist prick seemed to have no lost winks of sleep as he commanded his soldiers to haul families out in the night, dispatching them at random borders with no cares for the creatures that lurked with a taste for fae flesh.

“I’m aware, Gus. No sudden movements, no flashy shows of skill, Mother forbid I reveal I’m not some worthless foreigner with no talent.” You mocked mirthlessly, earning a sigh of defeat.

“Wait a moment.” He roused, and the fingers that curled around your bag strap tightened slightly, your pointed ears twitching at the tone of his voice. But you slowly turned, a scowl on your unimpressed face as you nodded airly.

“You were selected personally to perform for the Vanserra family. Something about honouring the magic in the Autumn Court territory with dance and such.”

You paused, mind blanking, yet your demeanour remained even, “And you’re looking at me like that, why?”

He winced, knowing how keen you were to snap at any male- or anyone, really, who rubbed you up the wrong way.

“They left a list of… expectations. As in, mandatory requirements or they won’t let you perform. They expect you to be… um… Be polite, and uh, as he put it, ‘socially acceptable’. Speak in turn and only when spoken to-”

“He?” You snapped, visibly unimpressed and ready to pull out completely. What kind of prick-

“I don’t let you anywhere near me on a good day, Gustav. What in the Cauldron makes you think I’ll just-”

“They’re offering coffers of gold. The Equinox… well, after Amarantha… they need to regenerate the magic of the Autumn Court specifically, so they want to use the Equinox.”

You cringed at the mention of that sick tyrant, yet you weren’t going to just roll over and lie down because someone jingled a purse of gold. “What of the Spring Court and Calanmai?”

“I didn’t ask, because I know my place. And don’t start. I didn’t exactly feel like getting ripped a new one by the son of the Autumn Lord, [Y/N]-”

“Son? As in, Eris Vanserra? That oaf- that misogynistic, foul-mouthed, mentally decayed pig was here? And he spoke to you about me?” You snarled, lip curling back as you advanced forward slowly like a fox- a wolf, eyes narrowed.

“He’s offering coffers on behalf of his father, [Y/N]! Enough for you to be paid out well, and then some for the studio.” Damn right he put you first on the pay list, otherwise he wouldn’t have a damned head. Though, you personally couldn’t give a flying fuck about the Vanserra coffers. You wanted nothing of it, as tempting as it might have sounded.

“Get Nerissa to do it.”

“He wanted you-”

“I thought the family wanted me.”

“I… oh, fuck it- Fine! Eris came here alone! Came here alone, saw you, insisted on you with this list in mind and he said either you or no one at all.”

You or no one. You or nothing. You made a retch of disgust, laughing at the mental image. Who did he think he was? “Then I will snap my leg in half and shatter my bones into teeny tiny pieces for good measure.”

“[Y/N]-”

“I will swan dive off the nearest staircase.”

“No.”

“I’m not performing personally for a good-for-nothing family that are backwards in everything they do.” You reaffirmed, shaking your head, but Gustav stepped forward.

“[Y/N].”

“They singled out the non-Autumn Court dancer to perform for them. What powers do I possess to help the court that doesn’t even want us? A ‘summery breeze’? A ‘foreigner’s’ complexion? Absolutely not-”

“Please. We…” Silence, before a sigh. A sigh that made you glare silently. “I received a letter last night from the building owner. I’ve been falling behind on payments, and Beron’s financiers are… hungry- they see this old building and want to knock it down for something else. Something miserable and drab.”

You frowned, blinking at your instructor. Well, fuck. Your shared silence was long- his pleading, hopeful silence swirled like smoke with your prideful refusal, that melted like wax the longer it lingered.

“... Fine. But only because I enjoy this damned studio.”

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

Your life was, what you thought at least, a mixed bag. You were brought up in an orphanage- housing mostly Autumn children, all who seemed to smell the ‘impostor’ blood in your bones, weeding you out as an odd one out. Your appearance led the governess of the orphanage to believe you hailed from the Summer Court- as did russet and teal muslin you were wrapped in. You repurposed the seemingly sentimental piece of fabric into a scarf- letting it rest around your neck currently, as you walked down the path of the bustling town.

You were lucky to be recognised for your artistic performative abilities, earning a grant to allow you to perform in the Autumn Court’s national dance academy, as well as live in one the apartments they provided. Two old ladies next door adopted you as their honorary daughter, and you were grateful for their familial company, even if there was no blood relation. One of them, Ordelia, even pushed you to study at the grand scholar’s library, using her former connections to grant you access to all the education you could need.

It wasn’t wonderful. But it could be worse. At least you were making it on your own, sort of.

“Afternoon little doe! Will you come for dinner? Delia-dearest made pumpkin and feta soup the way you like it!” ‘Madame’ Primrose, one of your makeshift mothers, waved to you from her balcony, and you offered a small wave.

“Not tonight, I’m afraid. I’m on a strict diet of greens and grains.” You pat your stomach with a sympathetic wince- greens and grains. Like a bloody farm animal. The silver haired fae seemed to nod sympathetically and wave a hand.

“You’re always welcome, dearie.”

You stopped for a moment, looking at an old fae sitting on the corner of the little road, a vendor selling flowers. The sun was dipping behind the horizon, staining the sky pink amidst the grey from the overcast weather that settled. You smiled at the older male who offered you a bouquet of lavender stalks and crocus bulbs.

Pretty.

Your eyes widened slightly as you beheld the bouquet, cradling it against your arm while you fished out payment. As you dropped some coins into his hand, a scream made you both look to one of the older complexes, where a woman was pulled out by some Autumn Court guards with two wailing children behind her. Any passersby walked quicker, ducking their heads, and when you looked back at the old male you realised he had been watching you. He gave you a nod, as if you’d know what it meant, and you swallowed before walking past, your head lower than before.

Beauty was hard to come by in the Autumn court, no matter how colourful it looked.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

“Oh, it’s nasty business, it really is. My darling Ordelia was telling me how shameful he is- that Beron Vanserra. Nasty business. I remember his father- he wasn’t much better, but certainly more handsome.” You had succumbed to the dinner with your neighbour-mothers, though your portion of soup was smaller, as the sprouts and stalks you miserably chewed filled most of your stomach.

“You know, I could have married Beron.”

Your eyes widened, hand shooting up to cover your mouth as you didn't know whether to choke or chortle. “Primrose!” Ordelia huffed,

“I could have, you know! But I wasn’t interested in a man with no morals.” ‘Madame’ Primrose sighed wistfully, and you laughed softly behind your mouth while her wife rolled her eyes. While Ordelia had raven hair in a tight, disciplined bun, Primrose wore hers in a loose braid that cosied on her shoulder- her silver hair glistening in the gentle faelight of the small dining room you all sat in.

“You know, I hear that Lord Vanserra is looking for some pretty girls to match his sons. The heir will be attending the Equinox alone, can you believe it?” Primrose hummed, thriving off the gossip, but Ordelia watched you with a knowing stare- amused at the soft snort you let out.

“How fares the paper? Arwen mentioned that you were hitting some brilliant points. Politics might be your strong suit, should you grow tired of glamorous costumes and fast dances.” The Autumn-born female brought up your most recent studies, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she heard her wife scoff.

At a first glance, you used to wonder how they could possibly be mated. Ordelia, with her firm, reserved rigidness and disciplined personality, and Primrose- a Spring Court fae who was gossipy and eclectic, always buzzing with something to share. Ordelia was a former scholar for Beron’s family before she retired, while Primrose was the prima ballerina of her time, moving to Autumn in search of a grander role where she met her mate. Their love-story made you sigh a little every time you heard it, but you shook your head of distractions as you answered Ordelia.

“It’s um… definitely going. I feel a little foolish writing it but every time I hear about another family getting kicked out, I get even angrier, and determined to write more. Although… um, Gustav spoke to me about… performing a solo dance for the Vanserras. A part of the Equinox celebration-”

Primrose gaped at that, as if she had been asked to dance herself, “Oh, little dove! Well, what did you say? You worked for that position- I’ll tell you that for free! I can’t fit on my fingers the times I had to remedy your torn muscles. Did you say yes? Did you accept?”

Ordelia nodded, taking a thoughtful sip of her soup before chuckling softly. “I would not be surprised if your radiance catches the heir’s eye. You’d be a different splash compared to the other dames he usually parades around on his arm. I think you’d certainly give him a run for his father’s money.”

“Ordelia dearest! What makes you think our little summer shell would even consider him?” Primrose voiced the disdain etched on your face, and you joked dryly, “I didn’t think you believed in fate and whatnot.” The Autumn female scoffed softly, shaking her head, “I don’t believe in fate, or destiny. I believe in the laws of attraction. You are everything his family lack, thus making you a match. Opposites attract.” You glanced at Primrose, and both of you made a childish noise of disgust as you shuddered, shaking your head as you finished off your meal.

“I’d rather have a kelpie as a bedside companion than Eris Vanserra.” You muttered, before taking all three plates to be cleaned. Laughter sounded softly behind you, and as you felt a small smile curl on your face, you abhorred the idea of being anywhere near the Lord of the Autumn Court and his family.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

After bidding your goodnights, you retired to your own apartment, basking happily in the moonlight that shone through the silent space. Peace and quiet. The best way to finish off a bleak day. Your calendar stared you in the face, the Equinox marked in an angry scribble of orange ink. ‘End of the week!!’

What a day. You rubbed your face, feeling a stirring in your stomach as you thought about the Autumn Court. You glanced at the daily paper slid under your door, seeing Eris’ face on the front page- his smug, arrogant, wicked, slightly crooked, unnecessarily charming grin staring you in the face, making your stomach tug. ‘Eugh. Imagine being fated to that beast?’ You’d rather eat glass.

You looked at the paper, baring your teeth at the male’s face before ripping it off and crumpling it up. A swift kick sent it across the small apartment, under your couch, and stayed there for a while as you grumbled softly. You got ready for bed eagerly, excited for the day to be over, only to reach under the small sofa it had rolled under and pick it up again, making a face at it before leaving it on the small table.

╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: i think that's all for now!! readers, pls let me know how we feel about this!!! (privately, in comments, on inbox, i don't mind)!! also in search for a beta reader [i draft everything on google docs, don't hurt me] (T-T)

#lexluvswriting #lex luvs eris vanserra #lexluvswriting: L'autunno #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris fic #eris acotar #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #x reader #x reader fic #acotar x reader #acotar x fem!reader

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nalyra-dreaming · 2 months

Note

About DM, having read som theories and speculations of yours and others I would love to add some of my thoughts and hear what you and @virginiaisforvampires and @cbrownjc thinks - if you are interested :)

1. Armand clearly reacted to Louis offering Daniel the Dark Gift, and reacted even more strongly to Daniel basically saying “No, thanks”. On the surface it seems in the latter instance that he was just offended by Daniel’s verbal barb, but I’m sure this is actually clever obfuscation by the writer/director/actor, no?

2. Given 1) and the foreknowledge of DM, Daniel responding ”A cure for Parkinson’s” when Armand (as Rashid) asked if Danial has everything he needs could be an unfired Chekhov’s gun…?

3. What really is/will become Armand’s endgame? I actually believe that it is as it seems, that Louis is the driving force behind this second interview. And that Armand actually be still be somewhat angry/resentful following the (presumed) breakup of DM. I think you speculated that Daniel might have wanted to leave to live a life since Armand refused to make him a vampire? While Armand might have wanted to spend the rest od Daniel’s mortal life with him? This would explain the charade, it being a way for Armand to either try to stop Daniel’s memories from resurfacing (per his request?) as well as Armand’s attitude in season one (as he seems annoyed with Daniel at times). Daniel’s terminal illness might be changing Armand’s mind however (á la DM), as previously suggested. Honestly? A part of me want to see some sort of fucked up Dracula situation, where it becomes clear gradually in a terrifying manner to Daniel that he is trapped by this ‘monster’ who claims to know him better than he knows himself/knows what’s best for him. The latter seemingly being a version of the dynamic playing out between Armand and Louis currently.

4. How will Daniel feel about Armand following season two? I think Daniel’s view of life and of the vampires has been shown to be quite different than to back in the 70s. His view of Armand must surely also be influenced by hearing of Louis’ bloody history of him? As he will presumably get to know Armand chiefly from Louis’ story and be quite critical of him - even viewing him as quite sinister as he realizes and gets Louis to realize the part Armand has played in tampering with their memories and Claudia’s death. Of course Armand is participating in the interview so his perspective will also come to light, and Daniel seems according to the trailers at one point be talking to Armand one-on-one. So he’s open to listening. I believe that Daniel’s view of Armand will be quite negative - even following the return of his memories, at least initially. That putting these memories and feelings together with his current view of life and view of Armand will be anything but simple. I would guess at this point that the romantic nature of their relationship is something that will be revealed very late - maybe even be a cliffhanger for the next season (together with other stuff).

5. A more nuanced view of Armand. However it wouldn’t completely surprise me if Louis, and possibly Daniel, somewhat consensually agreed to have some of their memories tampered with. I think Louis on some level after Claudia’s death might, due to his intense grief, wanted to emotionally “run away” so to speak. And that this series basically began with him for some reason or another now feeling ready to confront the past. So Armand’s seeming malevolence as a mind-manipulator will potentially be tampered by these facts. However Daniel will now presumably together with Louis find out about the role Armand played in Claudia’s death. Daniel’s empathy for Claudia is somewhat limited though, understandably as he has the human perspective and does, quite rightly, not excuse her murderous ways. But he might dislike Armand due to the self-serving aspect of the trial? Or maybe not?

6. At this point, I don’t think Louis and Daniel have been in a serious romantic relationship. I wouldn’t be surprised if they hooked up or something similar but Louis seemed very genuine and definitive in welcoming Daniel as a friend he met once/or a few times years ago recording the tapes. If he was hiding a past history and/or romantic relationship from Daniel I think he would behaved differently. Of course he could also not remember, but I don’t think that’s the case here.

7. I guess what I’m most curious about is what kind of dynamic will take form between Daniel and Armand during and immediately following season two? I would love to hear your thoughts. Also the Dracula comparison was not my idea but something I’ve read somewhere here. So sorry for long post! Love your blog!

Hey!

Glad you like! <3

Sorry this took a moment (the answer is also a bit longer^^)

He did. And yes, it might contain obfuscation, but mostly… I think Armand was almost afraid that Daniel would accept the gift from Louis. Maybe Louis offered before, maybe he did not, but Armand surely didn’t. And… Armand loves Daniel. Ultimately Daniel will be his only fledgling. There is a level of possessiveness to that, of course, and also to the not-healed bite marks on Daniel’s throat, which more than likely did not just stem from Louis’ attack (because Armand would have needed to heal Daniel there at least a bit, and over the following 12 years he bit Daniel often). I think there are a lot of things at play. For the book readers it is a nice little easter egg on various levels (both Daniel’s and Armand’s past together and also Armand’s personal past being referenced), but also something more hinted at, something we have not been shown yet. Though, given the title of that music part (Alice is in her third trimester) a while back - maybe we will get to see it. Something must have happened to make Armand let Daniel go, and the repeated refusal in the books served to open a rift between them. I could easily see that happen here as well. That said, it would mean that we will get a LOT more DM in s2 than thought so far… and I’m not sure that will be the case. What I could easily see is Daniel reminiscing (or getting memories back) about the moment he “got his shit together” as he called it in s1 - but I do not think we will get all of what that entailed yet.

Most certainly :) I think he’s already getting it. Fareed is not there to play around after all^^.

I have speculated that the aforementioned rift that developed through Armand’s repeated refusal to turn Daniel will lead to Daniel seeking other … comforts. But I think it would actually need a big reason (like a baby…) to make him struggle for real - and I could see someone else then decide to end that struggle. Put an end to the hunt/relationship because it was not good for Daniel, ultimately, and because Armand could not be moved. As per Armand… I think Armand did acquiesce to Louis’ wishes to have Daniel redo the interview, and he likely was not happy about it. I mean, imagine how it would be to see the love of your life... and said love of your life does not remember you. Verbally throws things at you. It must be a wild mix of feelings for Armand, from annoyance over helpless love to utter devastation. No wonder he tried to literally hide from it. I do think Armand was already aware of Daniel’s sickness - the aforementioned medicine by Fareed he is getting - that had to be prepared. Planned, designed. Researched. Whatever it is they are giving him is not what they claim it to be (the side effects don’t match), and… given Daniel is not stupid he might hone in on that pretty soon. Now, in the books there is a pharmaceutical empire that is led by a powerful ancient vampire, Gregory, and he and Seth (who is Akasha’s son and Fareed’s lover/maker) are roughly on the same level. Seth, but mostly Fareed, builds whole research centers for the vampires. There is a LOT of potential for the show to hook into that, and I actually think both the more physical sex and the absent death sleep during the day are thanks to Fareed. If that will ever be spelled out? No idea, but the first is something Fareed already makes happen in the books and the second is something he plans to remove… so I do think that is connected. I think whoever is orchestrating behind the scenes (coughs prime minister coughs) wanted to help Daniel to live long enough to maybe reconcile Armand and Daniel. And for that Daniel needs his memories back. If that is Armand though… the show will tell :)

Well, I think it will be the same as in the book when the memories come back - Daniel will realize that he “loved this thing”, this monster, despite everything. Despite knowing what Armand has done. That is part of the horror, that the lover overshadows everything he knows, and that he is, in a way, helpless against that. Oh, I’m sure there will be a development of feeling, of course. But ultimately Daniel will realize that he loved Armand - absolutely, totally - and then eventually he will realize that he still does. And that will make him just as confused and vulnerable and hurt, and emotional as it makes Armand.

I can easily see Louis saying something like “I want the pain to stop” or something similar, and then Armand taking that as his cue to interfere. The thing is, Armand back then… is not the Armand in Dubai. DM happened in-between and it changed him. So when Armand likely “tinkered” with Louis’ mind back then it was more to serve himself - when he “tinkered” with Louis’ mind later on it was likely to help Louis. However he did and what that tinkering might entail. So yes, Daniel might challenge him on his part in it all, of course. I am counting on it, actually. Because Daniel is there to pull the truth out of Armand - that is (part of) why the interview is being redone. And of course that will shape Daniel’s view of him further - only the feelings won’t care for that view when they come back. Armand was quite the “villain” in the earlier books - that changed a bit with the later ones. But he is still a coven master, and Lestat calls him “ruthless” in the books. The show will present both Armands to us in direct confrontation - and I bet the emotions of the audience will be just as tumultuous as Armand’s and Louis’ and Daniel’s own are by this confrontation.

Oh, Daniel and Louis… probably got along really well and even intimately during those 12 years. I think Louis definitely has a personal connection to him, much more than in the book. It’s a weird relationship triangle they have there, and soon Lestat will be added to the mix - and I bet it will be revealed that Daniel has met Lestat before (as well).

I think after s2 Daniel will still be an old man, still be the interviewer, the chronicler. But remembering much, much more, and therefore challenging whoever else is on that couch then (I expect Lestat) a lot more as well. For example wrt episode 5. I would bet real money that we will get episode 5 in s3 from Lestat’s POV. Because by now I think there was nothing random, or unplanned about it. This show is a puzzle, and we have had only a few pieces. I think Armand and Daniel… will be very … raw with each other. Emotions are high, vulnerability as well. There will be intimate moments, but also rejection. Daniel’s view on eternity will change at some point, and probably rather rapidly with the memories coming back. There will be anger at the meddling. Daniel is no pushover. He will challenge them, and especially Armand. At some point he will realize that he does not need to ask - he can demand, to an extent at least. And that will change the dynamic once more.

It will be very, very interesting to watch^^.

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suzdin · 5 months

Text

Two for One: Chapter Four

Neighbor!Dave York x F!Reader x Human!Max Phillips

Series Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, familial drama and angst, mentions of drug use/abuse, alcoholism!, stalking (don’t do it), voyeurism (so so much), invasions of privacy, mutual masturbation, sexting, oral (m receiving), dom!Dave, soft!Dave, dom!Max, softish!Max, public sex, work sex, some fluff, maybe?, SEA OTTERS!, murder, poison, asphyxiation, let me know if I forgot anything, watch me make up stuff about an aquarium I’ve never been to and also poison.

Word Count: 7,700+

Notes: Sorry this took forever because my brain is dumb. I just want to thank all of you for being so patient. I love you and hope you have a wonderful 2024. 💜 Enjoy and feel free to leave me feedback if you wish! 😊

(Not my gif)

—

You make Max exchange phone numbers as he’s leaving your apartment.

“No more showing up uninvited,” you reprimand him, the heel of your palm planted firmly between his shoulder and sternum as you push him into the corridor of your building, “I mean it.”

He cocks his head to one side, lopsided smirk twisting his lips, forehead wrinkling as he lifts his brows, pausing. He’s staring at your still very much flushed and sweaty face. “You sure about that, doll?”

Your skin heats even more. You hate to admit that his smarmy defiance arouses you in ways that it shouldn’t.

“Max. If we’re going to keep whatever this is ongoing, I’m going to need some compliance here. For my privacy.”

Max’s smirk only grows wider and he beams at you, his gaze sliding down your face to your lips, hands raised in surrender. “You mean so I don’t cross paths with him, is that it?” he asks, quirking one of his brows to the side, knowing you’re fully cognizant who he’s talking about. “Fine.”

“Tell me you’re not bullshitting,” you retort.

“Woman,“ Max begins, wagging a finger at you, “I assure you that I am in no way being deceitful.”

He hasn’t wiped that shit eating grin off his face the entire time he’s been standing in front of you, either.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Scout’s honor?” you press.

“Scout’s honor,” he replies, lifting his hand in a mocking salute.

You sigh and shove him back another step, his back almost flush with your neighbor’s door.

“Goodbye, Max,” you snip, turning to go back to the comfort of your apartment, when that gnawing southern upbringing decides to make a re-emergence once more, and you remember your manners.

With a sigh, you turn to give him one last glance, your visage softening in its regard. “Thank you, by the way. For the drink.” And you mean it, even if it’s likely all melted and weeping on the table by now.

You almost think you see his own features grow a shade softer, and before you can dwell on it, he’s suddenly shifting back into your space.

Your initial instinct is to flinch, to shove him away, because after Dave and him in a single day, your poor fucked out pussy can’t handle anymore punishment.

But he doesn’t grope or manhandle you. Max’s arms grapple you into a snug embrace, his hot breath fanning over your neck. It’s uncharacteristically soft for Max to show this level of affection and you would hug him back if he wasn’t clamping your arms to your sides.

“Thank you,” he whispers, keeping you ensnared for a few lingering moments before releasing you and taking a step back.

“Yeah… no problem,” you offer awkwardly, because what else do you say to that? “I’ll see you around. I work tomorrow, opening to two.”

Max nods, his usual crooked smirk making a reappearance. “See you then.”

“And hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Be nice to my coworkers. It’s the least you could do,” you remind him.

His smirk doesn’t fade, tongue swabbing the inside of his cheek. “I’ll do my best.”

You snort and shake your head, watching as he disappears down the stairwell.

——

After Max leaves, you spend the remainder of the afternoon and evening wallowing around your apartment, watching bad reality television and trying not to think about… well, anything, pouring yourself some vodka with whatever mixers you can scrounge up until your brain mellows to a welcome numbness.

You order take out for dinner because, fuck saving money at this point. Proceeding the earlier conversation with your mom, you aren’t even sure why you’re trying to get back to Texas anymore.

It’s far easier having several states between you, even if you do miss your grandmother and have a wicked hankering for some barbecue right about now.

You check Facebook periodically anyway, not at all surprised to see your mother asking for prayers and attention from all the faceless online entities because she did not receive the validation she sought from you.

You grumble and toss your phone down every time you read a new ‘woe is me’ comment from your mother and you wonder why you’re even torturing yourself like this.

Belly full of chow mein, you settle down into your bed for the remainder of the evening to distract yourself with some mind numbing television to go along with the buzz you’re feeling.

When your phone lights up, you sigh in indignation, expecting a text from your mother as you swipe open to the notifications.

Much to your delight, it isn’t your mother, and you let out the breath you realize you’ve been holding in.

Dave: Hey, you.

You smile. Relief washes over you as heat simultaneously slithers its way up your spine.

Dave decides to change to split screen, one side with the recorded footage and the other side with the current feed, and he watches as you smile at your phone, steadily stroking himself, his phone vibrating your response a few seconds later.

You: Hey, you. 😜

You: I was beginning to wonder if you’d made it to VA

Dave: Yeah. Long day.

Dave: You made it worth it, though.

You: Doubt that

That makes him chuckle. He knows you know that to not be true.

He continues to stare at you, your gaze glued to your phone as you await his reply. You’re sitting up in bed now, back against the wall, wearing a different but equally revealing top than the thin camisole you had on earlier, blanket pooling in your lap.

The veins in his dick pulse when he ponders if you’re wearing any pants under the covers, and his eyes flick back to the recording of Max eating you out, a soft, breathy moan escaping his lips. The pleasure on your face is telling.

Dave: You do, huh?

Dave: Maybe I should show you, then.

You bite your lip at his response, quickly punching in your reply and hitting send.

You: Aren’t you supposed to be spending time with your kids?

Dave: they’re in bed. It’s late.

His head lifts from the monitor momentarily—only as long as necessary—taking his headphones off to listen for any sounds of wakefulness from the bedroom. When he finds there is none, he turns his attention back to you, freeing himself from his sweats, tugging them down to his knees.

He quickly snaps and sends a photo of his rigid cock, colored a deep shade of mauve at the head, hand fisted at the base, dark curls peeking out from underneath his palm.

You swallow, your walls tightening and mouth watering at the mere sight of it, breath puffing softly past your lips. And you’re almost surprised how turned on you still are, despite the events of the past two days.

Max is just a phone call away, you tell yourself, quickly squashing that thought right out of your brain just as quickly as it arrives. You’d hate to risk having him spend the night with you. Besides, you should probably give yourself a break.

You: Jesus, Dave.

Dave: All for you, baby

Dave: This is what you do to me. I was hard almost the entire way here.

Dave: What are you doing?

You snicker through your nose at the sudden shift in conversation, deciding to play along anyway. Going back to the picture every so often to admire it.

You: Watching TV

Dave: Anything good?

You: Just reruns of 1,000 Lb. Sisters. It’s a good show, you should watch it

Dave: I would watch it with you if I was there.

Dave: if I could keep my hands off of you

Dave: Touch yourself.

You laugh when the conversation takes yet another rapid turn, but you barely give it a second thought the moment you feel your clit throb with need, firing off a response to Dave before breaching the band of your panties with your fingers.

You: Yes sir

Dave: good girl

Dave drags his tongue along his plump lower lip when he sees your hand disappear beneath the covers, his eyes darkening with lust.

Dave: show me

You throw the blanket back and he’s pleased as punch to see you’re only wearing panties. He watches intently as you shuck them off and toss them to the floor.

You open the camera app on your phone and begin recording, doing your best to get the shot right but it’s difficult to see much from your perspective. You take the video anyway.

Breathing softly, you slide two fingers between your folds and sink them into your entrance as far as you can manage, which isn’t enough and will never be enough compared to Dave or Max, before dragging them back out again to display the shiny coating of arousal on your digits for the camera.

You save the video and send it to Dave immediately.

Dave: Fuck

Dave: Can you get a different angle? I need to see it

He almost tells you to prop your phone up on the window sill by the bed, but he doesn’t want to risk you somehow finding out he’s watching you. It’s possible you would think nothing of it, since he has seen the inside of your apartment now, but he’d prefer not to take the chance.

You frown and stop touching yourself, looking around the room in consideration before scooting on your knees over to the window to prop the phone against the pane of glass.

You hit record and maneuver into position, spreading, lifting your eyes to make sure everything is in frame. Shockingly, it is, and this new angle is so visual and obscene that even your OB/GYN would be impressed.

You record a short video of your fingers circling your clit, letting out a soft, salacious moan.

You still feel very much used from Dave and Max in a single day, but you make sure to keep your own touches as light as possible.

You record about ten seconds of yourself and send it to Dave.

Dave: Fuck

Dave: Need to fuck that little pussy full of me

Dave: We’re getting you an IUD and I’m paying for it

Dave: Fuck

His eyes move back to the side with you and Max, at which point you’re cumming on Max’s face, and Dave’s balls tighten with longing. He remembers exactly how you taste when you hit your high, and his mouth waters in remembrance.

Any jealousy he feels is immediately snuffed out by how much he wants you. How much he needs you.

You: I can pay for it

You: [video]

He’s so distracted by watching Max making you cum, his hand pumping himself more rapidly, that he doesn’t realize you were recording again. Your fingers swirl your bud faster, your hips twitching and coming up from the mattress.

Dave: Jesus

Dave: It will be well worth the money to see my cum dripping out of that tight little hole

You: such things you say, Dave

He smirks.

Dave: use a toy

You: How do you know I have one?

Dave: dirty fucking sluts like you always have toys

Dave: do what I say

Arousal floods your core when Dave’s true colors bleed through, even over text. You can practically see his brow pulling into a hard, dark line; see the way his lips curve ever so slightly into a sadistic and hungry smirk.

You don’t dawdle, leaning crossways over your bed to retrieve your favorite toy from your bedside drawer — you have a few accumulated from your time with Jonathan, since he never got you off — a vibrator with a curve at the end for optimal g-spot stimulation.

You: yes sir

You: [video]

You: is this sufficient

Dave receives a video of you clicking on the toy and sliding it teasingly along your slick and swollen labia, pausing periodically at your clit, your moans quiet yet lewd. All for him.

Dave: fuck. Gonna have to fuck you with the toy in you like that

You: I look forward to it sir

Your words send a rush of heat through Dave as his vision subconsciously slips back over to the side with you and Max, who’s now railing into you from behind like a jack hammer, and he damn near cums on that image alone.

He wanted to kill Max for how he had treated you. But now, watching Max bring you pleasure, and how much you appear to be enjoying it, he can’t stop his thoughts from wandering. Would you let both men inside you at the same time? Would you like it?

Would Max take orders from him like a good boy?

That last thought admittedly gives Dave pause and he shakes it from his mind. He had done things in the military, sure, most of the men had, missing their wives and girlfriends. But that was a side of him he hadn’t acknowledged in years, and he shoves it down to the furthest recesses of his brain, returning his focus to you.

Dave: good girl. Now put in and make yourself cum for me

You slide the toy past your opening with little effort, and you’re so worked up it takes almost no time at all before you’re chanting his name. Dave watches, transfixed, pupils dilated and jaw slack, eyes drifting back and forth between the two images on the screen, a cry departing your lips as you reach peak.

You: [video]

You: Mmm wish it was you making me cum though

Almost like serendipity, you cum on the recorded footage at almost the exact same moment as he witnesses it in real time. He can’t hold himself back any longer, and he barely has time to pull his phone back out to record before he’s shooting like a geyser all over his hand and lower abdomen, thick and milky spend dribbling down the backs of his knuckles.

Dave: Fuck

Dave: [video]

Dave: wish this was all over your fucking face instead

You sigh and fall back, panting, opening the last text with a satisfied grin painting your lips as you watch Dave spill down his hand.

You: Rather it inside of me

You place the phone down and crawl off the bed to go clean yourself and your toy in the bathroom, smiling to yourself.

Several states away, Dave heads to the bathroom in his hotel suite to do the same.

But as the high starts to dissipate, your trepidation inexplicably returns, twisting like a knife in your gut. You like Dave. Probably a little too much. And you shouldn’t. Because the day will come when he hurts you, just like Jonathan did.

You do your best to swallow down your doubt and finish cleaning yourself up, traipsing back into the main room to retrieve your panties and slip them back on.

A new text message lights up your phone.

Dave: Soon.

Dave: Can I call you?

Dave sees you sigh and chew at your lip, one of your hands coming up to the back of your neck. You seem unsure.

Your anxiety triggers his own, making him worry if he’s moving too quickly for you.

You: Sure

Now clad only in his sweats, Dave takes in a prolonged breath, hitting the call button. It rings twice before you answer.

“Hi,” you answer quietly.

“Hi,” Dave returns and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Thank you for that. I needed it after today…”

He switches off the recorded footage and goes back to watching just you. You.

You’ve already moved back under the covers, snuggling up with your back facing the window, one arm drawn up under your chin.

“You’re welcome,” you reply after a beat. “I needed it too.”

Oddly enough, you did, despite how many times you’ve already cum today, which was a welcome end to a stressful day.

That makes Dave grin, and he feels a pang of want as he wishes he were there to hold you in his arms, to feel your back pressed up against his chest.

“I miss you,” he confesses with a soft, nervous chuckle. His change in demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by you — a man of dual natures, an enigma. “Wish you were here.”

He chastises himself silently for saying too much, but it’s true.

You swallow down the coiling anxiety you feel.

“Yeah. That would be great,” you proffer gently. You change the subject as seamlessly as you can. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

He notices, but doesn’t point it out. “Taking the girls to the aquarium.”

You actually do soften at that. You always loved visiting the aquarium as a kid.

“Oh, how fun! I love aquariums. I know there’s one here… I’ve never been.”

“I’ll take you sometime,” Dave suggests. “We’ll make it a date.”

Your skin heats and you take your welling emotions and stamp them down as deep as you can. “Yeah.”

“What is your favorite marine animal?” Dave randomly asks.

“What, why?”

“Curious.”

You think it over for a moment. “Sharks,” you reply, “I like sharks.”

You hear him chuckle. “Figured you for more of a sea otter type.”

“Sea otters? Do explain, Dave.”

Although you can’t see it, he shrugs. He’s still watching you, fixated on the way your fingers fidget with the covers.

“Women usually like the cute sea animals. And sea otters are cute,” he says.

“Because I’m a woman, I’m not allowed to like things that aren’t, by your definition, ‘cute’? That’s sort of sexist, don’t you think?”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “You’re right. My bad.”

“Your bad? Well, what is your favorite sea animal, then?” you press.

“… Sea otters,” Dave answers without any additional thought, and you can’t control the burst of laughter that erupts from you. It makes his heart vibrate with affection hearing the joy in your voice and watching the way your nose crinkles when you smile.

“Oh, fuck off!” you tease, and he can’t help but laugh along with you.

“You need to go to bed,” you tell him as soon as the laughter dies down.

“What if I’d rather stay up all night talking to you?” he counters.

“Then I imagine tomorrow will really suck,” you quip back.

“It will be worth it.”

“Dave,” you begin in a more earnest tone, “I have work in the morning. Early. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

Talk…masturbate mutually. Either way.

Your buzz is starting to wear off. Dave sees you rub at your eyes as you reach for your cigarette pack with the other, lighting it up and taking a long drag.

He knows you’re guarded and he supposes he understands why. He hopes you’ll let your walls down sooner than later.

“Okay,” he sighs in resignation. “But I’ll be thinking about you all day tomorrow.”

You tap the growing head of ash against the edge of the empty plant tray you’ve been using as a makeshift ash tray.

“Me too. Goodnight. Have fun tomorrow, alright?”

“Yeah. I’ll try,” Dave replies honestly, and you exchange your goodbyes before hanging up.

He continues to watch you. And not just until you’ve finished your cigarette or gotten out of bed to — presumably — have one final pee.

He watches you plug up your phone and set your alarm. He even watches you as you curl into a fetal position, clutching one of your extra pillows against your torso, and he wishes it was him instead.

Soon, he reminds himself.

He doesn’t stop watching until he’s sure you’re completely asleep. And even then he lingers, only stopping when one of the girls — his youngest, Alice — rouses from sleep in absolute hysterics, loud enough to wake the dead. Something she had started doing around the start of the divorce process.

He sighs, slipping back into dad mode, swiping a hand over his sleep weary face as he shuts his laptop down and heads to the bedroom.

——

Like clockwork, Max is at The Beanery around 7:30 AM for his morning caffeine fix.

You’re grateful that it’s slow and that Audrey and Vincent are in the back room folding boxes and chattering away about god only knows what. Almost like you’d planned it that way. Like you gave them each monotonous side work on purpose.

You knew Audrey was working today and you wanted to stave off the inevitability of admission that you don’t really have the power to ban Max as long as you could. Or resist him, for that matter.

You’re also grateful that Audrey was able to hide your hickies and bruises using the expensive foundation she brought to work just for you, at your insistence, with the incentive that she could leave two hours early with pay today. A decision that would probably bite you in the ass later.

You didn’t tell her who or what they were from and she didn’t ask.

You receive a text from Dave mere moments before the chimes hanging over the door signal Max’s arrival, causing your blood to heat and your skin to pebble.

It’s an image of Dave in a steamy bathroom, fully nude, hand curled around the base of his stiffened cock, with the caption: Wish you were here

You respond with a very underwhelming selfie in your work cap and apron, to which he replies almost immediately: You’re fucking adorable

You can’t help the heat that crawls up your cheeks.

You slip your phone back into your apron and start cleaning the espresso machine when Max traipses in, strolling up to the counter like he owns the place.

Or like he owns you, more like it.

“Morning,” you greet, and the remaining traces of your flustered state swell once again the moment you see Max in his primped and tailored three piece, donning a flashy paisley red tie. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him not adorned in a suit, aside from when he’s naked.

“Your usual?” you query, starting on his Americano before he even has a chance to respond.

“Morning,” Max parrots, smirking as his eyes bore into you. “And add whatever you want for yourself, sweetheart.”

He’s certainly starting off early today, isn’t he?

“That isn’t necessary,” you say.

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” he tuts and slams his card down in front of you. When you go to retrieve it, he reaches out to grip your wrist gently, and your eyes snap up to meet his.

He can see the affect he’s already having on you just by proximity alone, his cock already growing rigid in his pants.

“Thanks,” you squeak out and ring up Max’s drink and yours with your free hand, running the card and handing it back to him.

“Good girl,” he purrs in a rich timbre. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night.”

And he really couldn’t. He doesn’t oft have a habit of bringing women to his place, opting for theirs or someplace else instead, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you in his bed, waking up next to him that morning so he could make you sing his praises first thing.

“Let me get your drink…” you tell him, attempting to take a step away, but his grip on your wrist holds true, tightening infinitesimally, thumb circling your pulse point.

Max leans forward, a single elbow rested on the countertop. “Or,” he suggests, his voice low and barely an octave above a whisper, “you can meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.”

His eyes flash and he releases you, shooting you a stilted grin before heading to the small bathroom in the corner.

At first, all you can do is gape in disbelief, your jaw slack. Did Max Phillips really just come into your place of business and ask you to meet him in the bathroom?

You turn to listen to the sounds coming from the back room; Audrey and Vincent seem to be prattling on about something, oblivious.

You sigh and resign yourself to curiosity, to self torture, checking to see that the coast is clear.

“Hey, Vince, listen for the front, please. I… I’ll be right back,” you call out and take in another prolonged breath.

“10-4, dinosaur!” Vince chimes back and you roll your eyes, rounding the corner of the counter and heading over to the bathroom.

As you approach, the door swings open and Max pulls you inside before you can even reach for the handle.

He barely gives you time to react before he’s locking the door and crowding into you, pushing you back against the wall and pinning you as his hips grind your thigh hard. He starts to grab at you, everywhere, pawing at your clothes, your body. His mouth finds your neck and when his teeth start to bear down, you protest weakly.

He doesn’t listen; or maybe he’s just so overwhelmed with his desire to be inside of you that he’s lost any semblance of composure.

It doesn’t take you long to realize you don’t want to do this here. Not at work and not when your body needs a break, still so sore and overwrought from the last couple of days, and you attempt to push him away. He only pushes right back, unwilling to hear your pleas, because he thinks it’s what you would want.

“Max,” you groan and you feel your resolve slipping although you shouldn’t, “not here.”

“Come on baby,” Max growls, gently nipping at your earlobe, “let me inside of you.”

He pins your arms above your head at the wrists with one of his hands while the other begins to undo your belt, moving swiftly, his breathing desperate and heady.

He hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind for two whole days and pining over a woman isn’t something Max Phillips does.

Your resolve is rapidly waning and just about gone, arousal welling up within you. But with your last remaining shred of dignity, you’re able to shove him away and grit out, “Max, lavender,” your safe word.

Part of you expects to be ignored regardless, as Max has a habit of doing whatever the fuck he wants, and what you suspect to be very few morals. To your surprise, however, he does stop.

He releases you and takes a tentative step back, lips parted, hurt and uncertainty twisting his features. With nothing to say, at least for a few brief seconds.

His eyes meet yours and he lifts his hands in surrender, a frown creasing his brows. “Fine. That’s fine. I just figured since you came in here…”

“Max, shut up,” you say as you step towards him and you’re the one undoing his belt this time, positioning him with his back to the sink. “I just didn’t wanna— I mean, I want a break, but let me just… do this instead,” you further explain as you successfully get everything undone, sinking to your knees in front of him.

Understanding settles over Max and he nods, eyes growing a shade darker as he watches you finagle his slacks and boxers down, hardening cock springing free after a moment.

Of course none of the tile on the floor is even, so you have to adjust slightly to prevent the edges from digging into your knees and make yourself more comfortable, your hands sliding down Max’s thighs as you look up at him through your lashes.

He gently places a palm atop your head, fingers curling into your hair. “That’s it, doll. Be my good girl, now.”

He has to stifle the loud moan that reverberates from his lungs as you spit directly onto his shaft and grip him in your fist to begin slowly jacking him off, swiping the flat of your tongue up his length, his entire body vibrating.

You pause at the head, circling it, lapping at the pearl of precum that collects at the slit. He grasps your hair with a firmer hold, tugging at the roots.

“Don’t be a… fucking tease… or I’ll fuck you anyway,” he warns and in spite of yourself, you moan, and almost break.

You grin to yourself and take him deeper into your mouth, still holding him steady with one hand at the base as you adjust to his size, slowly pistoning your head forward and back.

“That’s it. Ohhh yes, good girl, sweetheart, good girl,” Max pants softly.

You slide your tongue along the underside of his dick, pausing at the fold of skin at the head as you rock forward, causing his hips to shudder and you eventually bottom out.

He grunts and grips the back of your neck, holding you flush against his groin, the dark and manicured thatch of hair tickling at your nose.

You can smell and taste the soap he uses; woodsy and light, nothing over the top nor underwhelming, but he’s as clean and well groomed as you would expect a pretentious man like Max to be.

He releases you when your eyes start to water and you murmur a noise of protest, allowing you to take a short break for air.

“Come now, darling, you can do better than that,” he notes with a small pout.

You nod in agreement and wet your lips, placing your hands on his hips as you take him back into your mouth and his head rolls back with a sigh, hands going to either side of your face.

You bottom out again and manage to hold better this time, hollowing out your cheek bones and breathing through your nostrils, relaxing your jaw and throat as you do so.

“Good girl… good… fucking girl,” he praises, nary louder than a whisper, running his fingertips along your scalp.

You tremble at the attention, moaning as you taste more precum dribbling onto your tongue, bobbing your head faster—as fast as you can—to get the job done as expeditiously as possible.

He groans and grasps your cheeks tighter, stilling your movements, holding you exactly where he wants you, and without any prior warning, starts rutting into your mouth.

“That’s right, that’s right… you can take it, can’t you? You can take it,” he growls, and there’s little else you can do but let him use your body as he wishes.

You can get the job done quickly but Max can get it done faster, knowing you’re on a time crunch.

You slacken your muscles as much as you can, as much as your body will allow, breathing through your nose and trying not to gag, especially considering you can feel and hear him nearing his release.

He starts to sputter what mostly sounds like nonsense words to you, gripping your cheeks and neck tightly in his large hands, rutting into your mouth with wreckless abandon and all you can do is sit there with the uneven tile digging into your tender knees and take it, letting go of his thighs to find purchase on the vanity behind him.

Finally, his hips begin to catch and then eventually seize, and with a low, guttural growl he spills hot and thick into your mouth, and you accept everything he has to offer you, swallowing it all with ease.

“Good girl… good girl…” he puffs, chanting your name softly on his tongue.

You milk him of every last feasible drop and a line of spittle connects you as you pull away, bringing your hand up to swipe at your mouth and breaking the string in the process.

He’s still panting as he helps you to your feet; you move to step to the sink so you can clean your face and rinse out your mouth. Without warning, Max grabs you once more, different than only a moment ago, ensnaring you in another tight hug and pushing you against the wall.

“Max… hey—“

He hasn’t even pulled his pants up yet. He squeezes you, lips ghosting over your skin as he presses his nose to the soft space between your neck and skull, inhaling your scent. And just… holds you like that, in an embrace, not at all dissimilar to yesterday.

“Thank you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you’re once again struck with his sporadic shift in demeanor.

“Uhh… you’re welcome,” you reply and he breaks the hug, a single hand coming up to cradle your jaw, thumb dragging your bottom lip as he stares at it, contemplative and fixated.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to return the favor?” Max asks.

“Um… no… I need to clean up and get back out there,” you explain, causing his hand to drop from your face.

“Yeah. Yeah, right,” he says, almost appearing crestfallen — almost — as he tucks himself and his shirt back into his work slacks, buckling his belt and giving himself a cursory once over in the mirror.

You turn away and ignore him as you smooth down your clothes, splash some water over your face and rinse out your mouth and when you’ve determined you don’t look super fucked out, you confirm with Max that you’re each composed enough, giving him one last glance as you step out.

You feel fingertips against the small of your back, almost like he wants one last point of contact with you before you have to go back to the real world.

And what you both step into is a sea of chaos, the lobby now bustling with people needing their various morning addictions, and you cast Audrey and Vincent an apologetic glance as you rush over to assist them.

God, you really need a cigarette and a stiff drink.

They pass each other a look when they see you and Max coming out of the bathroom together and you inwardly sigh because you had hoped you could keep all of this on the down low. Well, that plan was pretty much out the window now. And there was no saving it.

Max stands to one side and waits patiently as you rush through making his drink, passing it to him when you’re done and your skin burning as you feel his gaze dwelling on you one last time before he dips out for the day.

The rush stays steady for about an hour and you’re actually kind of thankful for it, as it helps to keep your focus off of everything that’s happened recently.

——

You’re walking home when your phone buzzes with a new text.

You take in a breath and fish your phone from your purse, hoping it isn’t your mother. Wishing it isn’t her. She had already texted you earlier that day to let you know Garrett was out of jail, no thanks to you, and you made a point of ignoring it.

You expect another dramatic text from your mother as you’re opening your phone, but you’re relieved to see it’s from Dave this time, thank god.

You open the text to see an image of Dave crouched down in front of the jaws of a rather large shark, Alice perched on his knee and Mollie standing to one side, all three of them smiling for the camera. You try not to let the sweetness and normalcy of it affect you, and you can hardly believe that this is the same man who had practically broke you and stitched you back together multiple times.

You: looks fun

A few minutes later you receive more texts, popping up as you get close to your apartment’s wifi. The first is a video of the girls in front of a shark tank, babbling at a nurse shark, and then a second video of a reef shark swimming overhead in a tunnel, with the caption: sharks for you

You: Cool. I love them! See any sea otters?

Dave: no 🙁 But we saw penguins! 😍

You cover your mouth with your hand as you snicker at his reply, typing in a quick response.

You: Penguins? How feminine.

Dave: Okay smartass

You: Just dishing out some of what you were serving last night, Dave

Dave: Watch it, sweetheart, or you’ll really see what I can dish out when I get home

You: Promise? 😜

As you enter your apartment building and Dave texts back with I would love nothing more, you try to keep reminding yourself you aren’t falling for him.

——

With the girls dropped off safely with Carol, at the house which is still in his name, that he still pays for, Dave shoots you a quick text before pulling away.

Dave: I’ll be back in town in a day or two. I have a work thing

He fishes out a burner phone and punches in the address for your ex, Jonathan, who lives on Long Island. Which is good — perfect, really — as it’s en route back to Boston. A quick rendezvous there to take him out and then straight home. Or what he could consider his home, nowadays.

You make it feel like home to him.

The hit shouldn’t take long. It was an ideal situation, if he was being honest. The woman Jonathan had left you for had pulled the same trick on him as he had on you, leaving him high and dry after he had up and moved states, and now he lived alone in a small garage apartment at the back of a property that was flanked on all sides by woods.

Perfect.

He would be arriving long after nightfall, and he would bide his time in the woods until it was late enough to slip in and out undetected.

Dave did not care that Jonathan really wasn’t a bad person, aside from being the asshole who broke your heart. He couldn’t give two shits, really. He only wanted to take retribution for Jonathan’s slights against you, on your behalf, because you were too kind and gentle to do it yourself.

As he pulls onto the highway to begin his journey north, he can’t get your beautiful face out of his mind.

——

It turns out Jonathan is a night owl.

Dave has been in the trees at the perimeter of the property for hours. A single window at the back of the apartment shines a pale yellow, denoting lingering wakefulness from his mark. It’s the only available illumination aside from a lone street lamp near the front of the property.

And aside from his phone. He’s been watching you off and on all night, to pass the time. You’re alone, and have been for days now. You haven’t had Max — or anyone else for that matter — in your bed since the last encounter, which means you stopped seeing Max entirely or you had simply taken to fucking elsewhere. Max’s apartment?

He isn’t sure which, yet.

Currently, Jonathan is getting stoned and painting. Dave is far from being an art expert, but even from his vantage he can see the strokes on the canvas are broad and messy; calling it abstract would be a stretch. Infantile, maybe. He couldn’t have been the artist of the painting you have hanging in your apartment—the style and technique just wasn’t right.

He wonders, not for the first time, if you were a gifted artist as well as being a gifted writer.

Jonathan orders a pizza at 9:09 PM and it’s delivered at exactly 10:00 PM. He spends an hour eating, his motor skills slowed due to being so fried, attempting to masturbate after that — much to Dave’s abject disgust — gives up, and goes back to painting.

Dave can feel his patience growing thinner by the second. You’ve already retired to bed so he no longer has anything to occupy his mind as he waits. He would prefer to strike while Jonathan is sleeping, but it’s either now or never; anything close to daybreak would be too risky.

Given up on being discreet, he slinks like a cat out of the woods at around 12:30 AM, head on a constant swivel, gun holstered at his hip in case he needs it. He’s hoping he doesn’t.

He’s opted for the more difficult to trace route as the actual means of execution — a syringe with 100mg of potassium chloride, the same drug used in prisons — tucked away neatly in the pocket of his black hoodie.

The nearer Dave draws to the apartment, the louder the indie rock music Jonathan is blaring becomes, a band Dave doesn’t recognize. That’s a good thing, though, it will work in his favor when he picks the lock at the front of the building, arguably the riskiest part of this entire mission, due to its proximity to the street.

He reaches the second story landing and pulls his lock picking kit from said hoodie, adjusting the black beanie away from his eyes as he finds the right tools. He manipulates them into the lock, ear pressed to the thin door so he can better hear what he’s doing.

The music continues, and so far as Dave can tell, he hasn’t been detected.

He pops the lock within minutes and the door slowly shimmies open, his hand going to his hip on instinct as he pushes the door the rest of the way with the toe of his boot.

He’s met with a short entryway that veers off to a dimly lit living room. So far, Jonathan hasn’t noticed him. He’s on another planet entirely—exactly where Dave wants him. Thank god for brain altering substances.

Dave stalks forward and soon arrives at the opening of the main living space which is littered with various articles of trash and other clutter, skillfully dodging as much as he can so as to not alert his presence, or give detectives anything to go on.

What he finds is Jonathan hunched in front of a canvas, paintbrush perched between nimble fingers, painting god knows what, because Dave sure can’t tell, his back facing him. The sheer abundance of luck at his mark being in such a vulnerable and unawares position is so goddamn sexy Dave can hardly keep his dick in check at the presentation.

But even with Jonathan being as preoccupied as he is, it would be imprudent to dawdle, so he doesn’t.

He quickly closes the space between the two of them, one arm coiling like a large python around Jonathan’s throat and the other disabling his limbs.

Jonathan looses a low bellow, most of which is drowned out by the music and the reduced flow of oxygen to his lungs, nearly knocking over the easel the canvas sits on in his rush of panic, but thankfully does not. In Dave’s experience working cases for the CIA, signs of struggle are often harder to hide than one would think.

He attempts to fight back, body trying to twist away, but Dave is larger, stronger and more experienced in disarming than Jonathan is in fighting…well, anything…so it isn’t as difficult as Dave had feared it would be.

It isn’t exactly a cake walk either, and Dave knows he needs to get him to the ground as soon as possible to fully disable him, arm tightening around Jonathan’s throat as he wrestles the smaller man to the floor. He puts Jonathan in a sleeper hold, adding a second arm for leverage and bringing a leg up to ensnare his lower half.

“Just let it happen. Let it happen and it will be easier,” Dave grits against the shell of his ear. “Don’t fight me.”

He doesn’t listen, of course, hellbent on breaking the grapple, and failing. That pesky self preservation always did aggravate Dave as much as it excited him.

Jonathan’s vision starts to blot away, music fading to a low and persistent hum, his body finally giving in to the asphyxiation now that the adrenaline was a fleeting thing.

This is exactly what Dave needed to happen, and as he feels Jonathan’s body growing slack in his clutches, he removes the syringe from his pocket, biting the lid off and grasping it between his teeth as he readies the needle.

It isn’t hard to find a vein due to Jonathan’s heightened sense of agitation and panic, inserting the needle into the soft flesh of his neck and sinking the plunger before he can struggle away, flooding his bloodstream with the full dose of potassium chloride.

Within moments, attempts to free himself devolve to little more than faint body tremors, and Dave doesn’t release him until his body has fallen completely motionless and limp in his arms.

He checks Jonathan’s pulse a moment later and when he’s satisfied he’s gone, he drags the corpse to the recliner on the opposite end of the room, manipulating him into a position that makes it appear as if Jonathan succumbed to cardiac arrest.

Once done, he finds Jonathan’s cellphone and begins to thumb through the recent calls and text messages.

He finds you in there, as well as a string of messages to you begging your forgiveness and for your return, which have gone wholly unanswered by you. Dave smiles to himself. You must have blocked him after the breakup. Good.

He knows there’s a very real chance cops will question you regardless. But Dave decides to delete the messages and any other snippet of information he can find about you in Jonathan’s phone anyway, just to be safe.

As he repockets the empty syringe, he gives the room a final comb to ensure that not even a hair is out of place. When he determines everything is satisfactory, and that he hasn’t left behind any evidence or traces of DNA, he turns to make a hasty retreat.

He leaves the apartment exactly as he found it, making sure to lock the door behind him, leaving nothing out of place, no loose ends unraveled.

He jogs down the stairs and makes the mile long trek through the woods to return to where his car is parked, working up a sweat even with the cooler air but not at all concerned about it, pulling the beanie off and tossing it to the passenger floorboard when he finally makes it to the car.

Palming himself through his dark jeans, he pulls onto the road, with you being the only thing on his mind as he begins the arduous six hour journey home to see you. You.

And he can barely fucking wait.

——

Taglist: @ohheypedrito @kateispunk @awilderi @survivingandenduring @heavennumber2 @alwaysmicado @oberynslady @kellybelly1978 @cosmic-li @chronically-ghosted @morallyinept @annieispunk @xxjigglynatxx @daddy-dins-girl @onmysluttyknees @guelyury @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @yorksgirl @shotgun-shelby

Please let me know if I forgot you, it wasn’t intentional 🥺

💜💜💜

#pedro pascal #writing #fanfic #smut #author #romance #pedro fanfic #dark romance #max phillips #dave york

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daisynik7 · 8 months

Text

The Takada-Chan Handshake Event

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~3.5k

cw: explicit language, suggestive dialogue, switch POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Todo is in 3rd)

Summary: Takada-Chan’s first Handshake Event of the summer goes better and worse than you expect.

Author's Notes: Here’s Chapter 2! Thank you everyone who has supported this series so far. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, would love to hear what y’all think so far of the story! Thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/saradika.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Two weeks after the concert, Takada-Chan hosts her first Handshake Event of the summer in a convention center twenty minutes away. It’s currently six in the morning as you stand outside the doors, a thermos full of hot coffee in one hand and a small tote bag of your belongings in another. Because of your sour experience at the concert, you plan thoroughly today, deciding to arrive at the convention center. Six hours early.

Basic logic and reasoning are clouded by your extreme dedication to this pop idol. This is what you realize as you wait outside the building at the crack of dawn, still half asleep. The only solace you find in your current predicament is that you are first. No one can stand in front of you this time.

You packed all the essentials you need to make the next several hours pass by quickly. A small blanket to lay flat on the ground, marking your territory. The pillow to cushion your bottom from the hard pavement. Even snacks and a small bento for lunch for when you get hungry. No matter what the circumstance, you are not leaving this spot.

Settling in comfortably into your makeshift camp, you start one of Takada-Chan’s concert specials downloaded on your phone. With no one around yet, you listen to it out loud without headphones, nodding your head along to the beat of the music. Fortunately, with Takada-Chan as a welcomed distraction, the first hour flies by.

7 AM. Five more hours to go. There are a few people around now, walking by to kickstart their day, though no one falls in line behind you. Good. You pat yourself on the back for being here ahead of everyone else. If that’s not true dedication, you don’t know what is! You check your text messages from Sara, sending her a selfie of you holding a peace sign along with a message saying, “Early bird gets the worm!”

You don’t expect a response right away, considering she’s still asleep on a Saturday morning, like a normal person. She thinks this isn’t worth waking up at the ass-crack of dawn just to receive a handshake. In fact, her exact words to you were, “You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind.”

Maybe you are, but you don’t care. Most people have hobbies or interests they would do crazy things for. This is fun for you. You are willing to do it. Would it be nice if you had someone that shared the same level of interest you have for Takada-Chan? Sure, because you won’t have to keep dragging Sara around with you, subjecting her to your ridiculousness. While she is generally a good sport about it, you’d feel significantly less guilty if she actually liked Takada-Chan as much as you. You don’t blame her at all for not wanting to be with you right now, especially in these conditions.

At 7:30, you hear footsteps walking towards you. It’s a young man with spiky, pink hair wearing a yellow tee and blue shorts, seemingly a few years younger than you. He falls in line behind you, leaning against the wall. When you look up at him from your seated position, he gives you a friendly smile, waving. “Hello.”

You return his greeting happily. “Good morning.”

After formal introductions, where you find out his name is Yuji Itadori, he puts his hands in his pockets and sighs. “Can’t believe you’re here earlier than me. What time did you get here?”

“6:00 AM,” you answer.

He lets out a whistle. “Dang. Dedicated fan, huh?”

You laugh as you stand up, matching him. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. The last event was completely ruined for me, so I learned from my mistakes.”

His expression becomes curious. “What happened the last time?”

“I was at her mall concert two weeks ago. This massive guy blocked my view the entire time, refusing to move.”

He buries his face in his hand, shaking his head and chuckling. “Sounds like Todo.”

Your eyes widen, recognizing the name. “That’s him! He screamed out to her as she walked off stage! Is he really your friend?”

“Were you near the front of the stage?” After you confirm with a nod, he adds, “Yup, that was him. Oh man. Sorry, but Todo will do anything for Takada-Chan. You stood no chance at all.”

The rage from that confrontation comes surging back, still fresh and hot on your mind. You groan, frustrated. “Ugh, I can’t believe that guy is your friend! He’s such a jerk!”

He shrugs, stating plainly, “That’s Todo. When it comes to Takada-Chan, he gets pretty crazy.”

You cross your arms over your chest, pouting. “Well, I hope I never have to see him again. Sorry, I know he’s your friend, but I can’t have another event ruined for me.”

Itadori flashes you a guilty glance, mumbling, “Well, actually…”

Suddenly, a voice booms out from the distance. “Brother! I got coffee and donuts!” Oh hell no. It’s him, the asshole! Why? Why is this happening to you? You planned today out perfectly! The giant meathead struts to his pink-haired friend, as cocky and aggravating as the first time you saw him. You turn around so your back is facing the two men behind you, desperately hoping the idiot doesn’t recognize you. In a panic, you take your phone out and text Sara:

SOS NEED BACKUP ASAP

also, can you please bring me a donut

~~~

Todo orders two iced coffees and a half dozen classic glazed donuts from the café across the street. Today is off to a great start; he managed to convince his best friendo to wake up early and stand in line with him for Takada-Chan’s Handshake Event. This isn’t his first; in fact, he’s quite the regular at these type of events. Hopefully the idol actually remembers him this time.

Balancing all the treats in his hands, he walks to the convention center, certain that they’ll be first in line. There’s no other fan dedicated enough to wait hours before the event starts just for a handshake. Only heloves Takada-Chan enough to do that. So, it’s a major surprise when he finds someone already ahead of Yuji, literally camped there with a blanket and pillow.

He announces his presence, approaching Yuji to stand next to him, inspecting the person before them. In the lowest voice he can muster, he whispers, “Is this person here for the event?”

Yuji rubs the back of his neck, replying in a hushed voice, “Yeah, she’s been here since 6 AM.”

“What?!” Todo yells, completely abandoning any discretion. He glares at the woman ahead. Who is this chick? How dare she claim the first spot in line! That should be his!

He pushes past Yuji, tapping on the woman’s shoulder. “Ahem, are you in line for Takada-Chan?”

“Yes”, she responds, not moving a muscle.

“Well, you see, I’m Takada-Chan’s #1 fan. I’ve known her since middle school. She’s actually my future wife. That being said, I think that I should be first.”

No response. She remains motionless, refusing to even glance back at him. The nerve.

Growing impatient, he asks, “So, think we can switch?”

Finally, she cranes her head just enough to peer at him. “Nope,” she answers, facing forward again. What. The. Fuck?!

A little louder now, he cajoles, “Come on, don’t be like this. You’re going to deny her #1 fan his rightful spot?”

“Not my problem,” she says, venom laced in her tone. Why does this interaction sound familiar?

It all comes rushing back to him. In the same nanosecond it takes for him to imagine fake scenarios from his childhood, his mind returns to an actual memory from two weeks ago. He uttered those exact words to that short girl who was behind him at the concert. The girl who argued with him, called him an idiot and an asshole. This is the same girl. The loser.

His rival.

If she thinks she can compete with him in this battle to be Takada-Chan’s #1 fan, she has another thing coming. No one beats Aoi Todo in a contest. No one. And when it comes to the pop idol, there isn’t another living entity in the world that can match his devotion to her. He accepted her rejection in middle school for crying out loud, a fact that all people except Todo continue to dispute. This gal has no idea what she just got herself into.

Through gritted teeth, Todo growls, “So it’s gonna be like this? Fine. I hope you don’t mind me singing then. I’ve been told I’m tone-deaf, but if I sing loud enough, I’m sure I’ll hit the right notes!” He starts his playlist on his phone, maximizing the volume. In his biggest voice, he begins belting the first song, Love Gem. Yuji hides behind his palms, embarrassed.

She whips around, finally meeting him face-to-face, yelling, “Oh fantastic! I love this song! I hope you don’t mind me joining in!” Her singing is even louder than Todo, which surprises him. He can admit that she carries a tune better than he could, but still, it’s annoying.

They go at it for about thirty minutes, two noisy, obnoxious adults angrily screaming Takada-Chan lyrics at each other. Todo even tries to play some underground tracks that he thought only he knew, but she perfectly recites it with a raised eyebrow, willing to accept whatever challenge he presents to her.

Seriously, who is this chick?

~~~

It’s been a half hour long battle of attrition against the imbecile, to which you think you’ve won. Todo seems winded, strands from his neat bun coming loose, sweat beading off his forehead. It doesn’t surprise you since the guy has been straight up screaming at you for thirty minutes.

Sara finally arrives, carrying a backpack with another small bag in hand. She approaches cautiously, ending the bizarre singing match. Todo huffs and puffs, glaring at you as you catch your own breath. “I could hear you from down the street,” she says, smirking. “Sounded like two sentient cats starring in their own musical. Imagine my disappointment finding out it’s just you two,” She passes you the bag, carrying a donut inside, as well as a water bottle she retrieves from her backpack. “Thank you,” you say, taking a swig.

“So, what is going on here?” she asks, pointing at you, then at Todo.

“This idiot asked me to switch spots with him even though I was here first. He thinks he deserves it, or whatever.”

Todo interrupts. “I don’t think, I know I deserve it!”

“I wasn’t talking to you, idiot!” you yell back.

“Stop calling me an idiot!”

“Stop being an idiot then!”

Sara, once again, steps between you, intervening. “Cut it out. You are adults, act like it. You two are going to be here for the next four hours, do you really want to waste your energy bickering with each other?”

You pout, knowing she’s right. It’s difficult containing your pettiness with him; something about him really grinds your gears.

Eventually, Todo’s grimace softens, muttering a reluctant, “Fine.”

Sara looks at you, waiting. You roll your eyes, obliging. “Fine.”

She claps her hands with a smile, as if she just solved world peace. “Alright! Now shake on it. Did you even introduce yourselves yet? Shouldn’t the top two Takada-Chan fans at least know each other’s names?”

He grunts, extending his large palm to you. You grab hold of it, surprised at how soft his skin is. The two of you shake hands slowly, stating your names, neither of you letting go. Letting go means you concede. Letting go means you lose.

He tugs you slightly forward, whispering, “You may be first in line, but I’m still Takada-Chan’s #1 fan.” He gives you a smirk, tightening his grip on you.

Feeling bold, you clench him tighter, also pulling him closer, using all your strength to move his mountain of a body. You’re practically nose-to-nose now. “Have fun waiting in second place, behind Takada-Chan’s true #1 fan,” you retort, returning his annoying smirk with one of your own. His eye twitches, annoyed with you. Sara groans beside you while Itadori cackles, amused.

The next couple of hours elapse normally, thanks to Sara’s presence and the distraction of the two behind you. Sara and Itadori seem to get along well as they chat with one another in line, laughing often. Todo and you stay firmly in your spots, listening to your own Takada-Chan playlists on your headphones. Occasionally you’ll exchange irked glances, arms crossed, guards still up. No matter what, you won’t let him win whatever bizarre competition you currently find yourselves in.

More fans line up and by 11 AM, the convention center opens, workers directing you inside. By this time, Sara and Yuji leave, neither friend intending to stay for the actual event. You are led through velvet ropes until you see a small table set up in front of a black backdrop. This must be where Takada-Chan will greet people with a handshake. By 11:45 AM, you can’t help but tremble with excitement.

Todo scoffs obnoxiously. “Something funny?” you ask, facing him.

“For a self-proclaimed #1 fan, you make it so obvious that you’ve never been to one of these before. It’s comical,” he says, eyebrow raised at you.

You scowl at him. “Just because this is my first one, doesn’t make me less of a fan.”

“Actually, it does. I’ve been to so many of these, I’ve lost count. The fact that you haven’t been to any, and you still stand here claiming to be #1. It’s pathetic.”

It takes all the resolve you have to keep calm. Only fifteen minutes to go. You’ve managed to last the past four hours with this asshole breathing down your neck. Don’t let him ruin it now. “You can think whatever you want. I know in my heart how much I love Takada-Chan. You can’t take that away from me,” you argue, voice wavering with animosity.

“Love? If you think your love for Takada-Chan exceeds mine, then you’re more delusional than I initially gave you credit for.”

He really knows how to get under your skin. Where are Sara’s brass knuckles when you need them? “Alright, I get it, you’re in love with Takada-Chan. Creep. I admit, I haven’t been to many events yet, but we all have to start somewhere. Plus, I already proved to you that I know the lyrics to all her songs, even her underground stuff. Don’t think I didn’t notice you testing me earlier.”

He lets out a barking laugh. “Yeah okay, that was impressive. But you still have a lot to learn before you can call yourself a true fan. I can teach you a few things if you want.”

“And why would I want that?”

He leans in close, grinning, a wicked look in his eyes. “I’m a pretty good teacher,” he says in a low voice. “I’m sure there’s a lot you can learn from me.”

Something about the way he says it is intriguing, almost enticing. You remember he is an absolutely douchebag, so the thought passes quickly. “I know everything I need to know about Takada-Chan, thank you very much.”

“Oh really?” he challenges, rapid firing questions about Takada-Chan, to which you answer perfectly. This occupies your time until you hear the other fans in the crowd start to scream. You didn’t even notice Takada-Chan walk into the room because this moron distracted you. But lo-and-behold, there she is, posing in front of the black backdrop, cute as ever. You turn away from Todo, frown literally turning upside down into the brightest smile, in awe that she’s right in front of you.

The security guard beckons you to the table. Your hands jitter with excitement as you walk towards her, stuttering, “Hi Takada-Chan!”

The pop idol smiles politely. “Hi there! Does your boyfriend want to come up with you?”

Confused, you respond, “Huh? My boyfriend?”

She points at Todo, standing in the front now with a delighted expression on his face, gawking at Takada-Chan. You wave your hands, trying to explain. “No, no, he’s not my – ”

She cuts you off. “I just love couples! It’s rare to see female fans, but it’s even more rare to see couples! How adorable! I love it so much!” she beams, motioning to Todo. Bewildered, he slowly steps towards the table, standing beside you, blushing.

“Aw, you two are just the cutest!” She shakes both of your hands enthusiastically. From your peripheral, you can see Todo glowing, completely unaware of the context.

Takada summons one of her security guards, requesting, “Can you grab a few posters from my dressing room?” The man nods, walking to the back room. She faces you and giggles. “I wasn’t supposed to give any posters away until my next event, but I’ll make an exception for you two.” She winks, and you’re almost certain yours and Todo’s hearts will soon burst from your chests.

“Thank you so much, Takada-Chan!” you say in unison, tears in your eyes.

“Of course! How about a Taka-Tan Beam? You have your phones ready?”

You and Todo absolutely lose it. He holds his phone out, hands trembling, actual tears rolling down his cheeks. You shuffle around your purse to retrieve your phone, also shaking, ready to record.

“Ready? Taka-Tan Beam!” she exclaims, flashing her signature pose.

The two of you clap your hands enthusiastically, praising her. Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular…

The security guard comes back carrying posters rolled up under his arm. He hands them to the pop idol, who then gives them to you. “Thank you so much for coming!”

Todo leans forward, palms on the table. “Thank you, Takada-Chan! Thank you! Thank you!”

“Thank you, Takada-Chan!” you repeat, pulling Todo by the sleeve of his shirt to the exit with you. As you leave, he bows continuously towards the idol, who waves farewell kindly.

Once outside, you find a bench to sit at. Todo is nearly foaming at the mouth, still unaware of what just happened. You hand him half of the posters, which he takes without looking at you.

“Taka-Tan. Beam,” he mutters in his catatonic state. His gaze is completed glazed over.

“Hey, Todo. Snap out of it,” you say, waving your hand in front of his face to get his attention. When that fails, you bop his head with one of the rolled-up posters.

“Huh?” He finally comes to, focusing on you.

You laugh. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“I can’t believe it either. But what was she saying exactly? I was too distracted by her beauty…” he trails off. You tap him again before he goes into a trance.

“She thought we were a couple,” you explain.

“EH?”

“Yeah. I guess she saw us bickering in line and just assumed,” you elaborate, shrugging.

“She gave us special treatment,” Todo muses, stroking his chin, contemplating.

What a turn of events. As much as you despise this man, being associated with him worked out the best for you in this particular instance. Takada-Chan thinks you two are a cute couple and she likes it, so much that she gave you exclusive items and extra attention. The sparkle in her eyes was mesmerizing as she performed the Taka-Tan Beam. It went better than you could have ever imagined.

Todo starts to speak, bringing you out of your reverie. “Look, I’m not that keen on Takada-Chan thinking I’m taken, especially by you. But since she can’t date right now anyways, I guess I don’t mind pretending. As long as we keep getting her attention.”

“What are you saying? You want to pretend to be a couple?”

“Only for Takada-Chan events. Obviously.” There’s that smug look again.

Eyebrows furrowed, you comment, “What, am I not good enough for you?”

He stands up, towering over you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I know you’re not good enough for me.”

Hot rage tingles in your belly. What a fucking asshole. On your feet, you only come up to his chest, so you tilt your gaze up to glare at him. “You couldn’t handle me anyways, you fucking prick.”

He leans down, his breath tickling your skin as he whispers, “I hope you don’t kiss anyone with that dirty mouth of yours.”

You get on your tippy-toes, closing the gap even more, challenging him. You swallow hard, not sure how to respond, but not afraid to back down. He holds your gaze, his mouth twitching slightly as his grins.

All of sudden, you’re very aware of how provocative this situation might look to an outsider. You feel it yourself. Whatever this angry tension is, it’s sort of…

Okay brain, stop thinking like this. You hate this man. Despise him. Angry thoughts. Angry.

He doesn’t relent. If you’ve learned anything about this beast the two times you’ve encountered him, he will notback down from a challenge. And knowing yourself, you won’t be able to keep up with him. But you can try. “I’d rather eat shit than be your fake girlfriend,” you hiss at him. You grab your purse and stomp off, leaving him behind.

“Ha, then don’t expect my help at the next Takada-Chan event!” he yells out.

As you walk to the train station, you make a promise to yourself to never interact with this oaf ever again.

#aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo fanfiction #aoi todo x you #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi #todo aoi x you #jjk x reader #jjk todo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #idol fan wars #aoi toudou #jjk fanfic

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miwsolovely · 2 months

Text

—PRIDE

pairing: task force 141 x fem!black!reader

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summary: You’re not fragile. You’re not.

contains: military inaccuracies, Dissociation, mentions + references to past trauma, torture, reader gets triggered a lot in this chapter :(, hurt w comfort, mentions of kidnapping, panic attack ( with comfort )

wc: 4.9k

a/n: ugh this feels rushed :(

a/n 2: sorry for the wait,, ( unedited )

“I told you, step by step, what to do.” The weight of a knife, the weight of the world, feeling very similar at this moment.

All you can do is stare at the floor. Wishing you could see your reflection but at the same time wanting to see it burn.

You wanted to see what had become of you. What he made of you. Wanted to see pitch black iron slowly encrust your heart. Protecting it. Hiding it.

However you wanted to see it burn at the same time. Wanted to show him that he isn’t what defines you. Wanted to show him how far your pride could take you. Until it ultimately breaks you.

Until he breaks you.

“What,” A stinging pain erupts from across your face. “Not gonna answer me sweetcheeks?”

You cough, red staining your lips, your body, your soul.

He scoffs and then as if he remembered something, starts playing with the long crowbar in his hands, tossing it from hand to hand with a giddy smile on his face.

You hack out another dry cough, cringing at the sound and at the metallic taste it left in your mouth. You raise your head to look at him in the eyes. Every muscle twitching and burning in the process.

He squats down to meet your level, your eyes following his every move as you try to scrutinize his actions.

“You know I love you right?” His smile. His God awful smile leads you into a field of roses. But his eyes lead you into the hands of death.

You spit at his feet. The crowbar sings as it hits your head.

***

“You don’t like hospitals do you?”

You blink and try to clear out the fog that encases your mind. Trying to escape the feeling of the knives against your skin, the fist, the crowbar—

“No, huh?” She answers for you. Sophia, you remember, was the woman you were supposed to get cleared by in order to go on missions on this team instead of sitting at a desk. You needed to prove them wrong. No matter how much you resented being on this team. On a team again.

Today marks two months that you’ve been on this base. So far you have no reason to stay, no purpose, all because of a psych eval that was shoved down your throat.

You scold yourself. “No purpose.” What about the man with the overgrown, albeit beautiful, mohawk? The man with the chocolate skin that shined when kissed by the sun?

They were nice. Treated you with a kindness that was only ever expressed by three people: Vera, your Mom, and your sweet Ma. They barely knew you, didn’t say more than two sentences when you were shoved down their throats, and added to their team. You are an intruder. An intruder on something that was beautiful and intimate.

You saw the way they looked at each other. Pinched yourself behind closed doors whenever you felt something green and snapping coil in your stomach, when you found your cheeks getting hot, when you felt your heart skipping a beat or two. For the two Sergeants at least.

The Captain and the Lieutenant however, they were as dark and secretive as their eyes.

Your expression hardens. “Never did.” Never liked them because it leaves a trail. A scent for a well trained dog to sniff out and find you. Kill you and let the birds eat at your flesh, killing you ten times over.

“Well then, today’s not your lucky day, ‘m not finished.” She says. You can see the sass dripping from her mouth, straining her lips and words with a golden ichor, much like the rich ichor of his own sass, his own words, falling, falling, and coloring everything gold. A gold that decays and reveals ugly things, ugly intentions.

You peer at her through your lashes, you look around the room, a room that looks comforting, looks welcoming, but everything has its secrets, you shift where you are, finding the seat you’re in uncomfortable from sitting there too long, your thighs going numb. Spreading, spreading like a disease, his disease his love—

“Are you even payin’ attention?” She stands there, in front of you with her hands on her wide hips, blonde brows furrowed and her pink lips pulled into a deep frown. “Because if you can’t pass a psych eval, then I’d say you’re not ready.”

You huff out a laugh at that, an amused smile pulling at your lips. She stares at you as if offended. “Somethin’ funny?”

You stare at her through half lidded eyes, crossing your arms on your chest. “None of us are ready doll. Not a single one.” You say. “And yet you still see us running into war with our heads shoved up our asses.”

She turns pink at the term of endearment you used for her.

“Well that—that don’t mean ‘m jus’ gonna let you go! I have to evaluate you. . .”

You freeze at her accent revealing itself. It’s something rooted, something deep and southern, like his.

You think it comes out whenever she feels a strong emotion.

Like hate. His hate. His—

“I need to go.”

***

The girl in your reflection wails. Scratching, pleading, yelling, to let her out. Let her take control, let her so she can protect the both of you.

Your breathing comes out ragged, and you claw and fumble with your door until it opens, slamming it and locking the door. You stay there for a second, turning so your forehead rests against the wood, wishing the door was cold, not filled with this burning heat that dug into your skin.

You turn and limp to the bathroom, you wrestle with the door knob and you fight the feeling of your legs giving out. You wished they would too, wished the world would split open and swallow you whole, close and take all your problems away. All your pain and sorrow and—

A knock. Then a voice. “You alright, love?”

Your breathing is harsh and you’re sure whoever is behind the door to your room, Gaz, can hear it.

You try to breathe calmly. You rest your shaking arms on the sink and pray for the cold ceramic to ground you. You twist the faucet all the way to the right and cup the freezing water in your hands.

The girl in this reflection is screaming. Pleading, demanding, for what, you can’t figure out, but your head is pounding, your heart is racing, and water is still pouring out of the faucet.

Get your shit together.

Remember what Vera taught you. In for four, hold for seven, and out for eight.

Four, seven, eight, four, seven eight, four, seven—

“Angel?”

Your breathing took a pause. Angel.

Angel, is the name spoken with a type of special emotion you can’t put your finger on by the two Sergeants. Something that calms you, and something you won’t admit aloud. However it’s Angel, the same name spoken with a hostility that’s rooted in the Captain and his Lieutenant’s voice, that pushes you to build your walls higher.

You stand there, hunched over the sink with the water in your hands escaping through the gaps between your hands like sand in an hourglass; running out of time.

The girl in this reflection fades away, distorted by the ripples in the water caused by the tears that escaped your eyes.

You bring your cupped hands to your face and splash the cold water on your face. You keep your hands on your face, covering your eyes for a moment because you’re not ready to face the world just yet.

After a minute, you blink to clear the blurriness in your eyes and feel for the towel you remember setting on the counter. Bringing it up to your face and wiping away the water that sits there, wishing to wipe away all your problems as easy as that.

You walk out of the bathroom after setting the towel where you found it, not ready to look at the woman you know looks at you with a hostility that matches the Lieutenant’s in the mirror yet.

Through all the noise, both in your head and in the real world, the world that scares you to no end, the world that hates you, you hear Gaz’s soft voice asking if he can come in.

Now, in front of the door to your room, you hesitate opening it. Scared of what he’ll say to you when you open it, if you open it. You’re a Colonel. You’re supposed to be strong and unwavering in everything you do. Why are you scared of what he’ll say to you when he sees your red rimmed eyes? Your pale face? Your shaking hands?

“You’re not enough.” He’d say. “You’re never going to be enough.”

You open the door.

Gaz looks up at you, and it surprises you because he doesn’t look at you with the pity or disdain you thought you’d see in his eyes, but with a soft smile gracing his lips and his honeyed voice asking if you wanted to talk.

He wants to talk. Why?

You ignore his question and ask him yours in turn. “Can I help you, Sergeant?”

He shakes his head slightly, the smile on his face stays. “No, just wanted to talk to you.”

He’s looking deep into your eyes. As if past the red rimmed and glossed over eyes, he can see the torn little girl you are inside curled up into fetal position, scared out of her mind.

You’ve been here two months.

Two months fourteen days and thirteen hours. And you’re moving to the side to allow him entrance.

He walks in your room and turns to face you, using the motion of turning in a half circle to inspect it without you suspecting him of doing so. You still caught on.

The room you're currently in is not really yours, it's a room. Not yours because save for the bag of clothes positioned in front of the closet, the room was barren. The bed was made and left without wrinkles, the nightstand was left untouched and is starting to collect dust, the prison grey walls reflecting your prison mind. Lonely, grey, and bleak.

You stare at him, at Gaz, with cautious and questioning eyes before motioning to the bed with your arm.

"You can sit."

He smiles that small, never ending and perfect smile of his showcasing the moons imbedded in his cheeks, and turns his back towards you to sit on the bed next to the pillows.

Why did he turn his back to you?

You shift where you stand.

Doesn't he know not to turn your back to someone you don't trust?

You meet his gaze with hesitance laced in your actions when you move to your nightstand to take a seat at the chair placed delicately in front of it, sitting down on the old chair that's seen better days, you face the man in your. . . in the room.

You keep your hands in your lap and fiddle with the hem of your sweater. Nervousness seeping you're your skin and bones and sending a chill through your body. "You wanted to talk—"

"Call me Kyle."

You pause.

Of course you knew his name. Knew it and remembered it when you read his file, said it in your mind a billion times without knowing, you knew all their names. But names were for friends, they were for lovers. You aren’t either of those. Callsigns are for strangers. They’re for long nights hunkered down in God knows where fighting Good knows who. They’re so that everything stays secret.

“What do you want to talk about?” You ask again. Ignoring his request to call him by his name and swatting away the small part of your brain begging you call him by his name.

He pauses for a moment, caramel eyes melting and revealing good things, good intentions.

“Would you like to have lunch with me?” He asks. His hands, you notice, are unscathed, clean, save for the little white line disrupting the chocolate of his skin. How you wish for hands like that. Clean, soft hands that you’d wish to melt in.

“Just you?” You murmured, trying to sound, fragile. Your eyes probably gave you away however. Vera always told you that.

“Me and Soap if you’d like.” He answers, looking down at his hands and intertwining them.

Him and Soap, Gaz and Soap, Kyle and Johnny.

You breathe in and you swear you can taste the caramel of his eyes. “Okay.” You whisper.

***

“When you said “Task Force,” You said, mimicking quotations in the air with two fingers. “Thought you meant it was some place quiet, a Task Force that barely gets any missions. But no, I find myself in the hands of the largest and most well known special ops team known to man.”

Kate Laswell, your mom, lets out a laugh at that. She finishes signing whatever paperwork she needed to at her desk and leans back in her chair.

“Oh really now?” She asks with a lift of her brow and a smile curling a side of her lips. “And how will you accomplish what you want in life behind the walls of a “quiet” Task Force?”

You sigh, irritated. Your eyes narrow and your eyebrows furrow deep. For a moment, you almost forget it’s your mom you’re talking to. “And what, you expect me to stay on this team? You didn’t see how hostile they treated me.”

Your mom remains nonchalant while she speaks. “You sure you’re my daughter? Last time you complained was when you were eight.” She says. “And you’re right, I didn’t.” You watch as she stands up and walks to a cabinet adjacent to her desk, pulling out an expensive bottle of whiskey and pouring herself a fair amount in a glass cup. “Felt it through the door when I walked out.” She said as she took a sip, winking at you when she met your eyes from the top of her glass.

You slump on the chair you’re sitting in, resting your elbows on your knees and your hands on your face.

“So, what? I’m gonna be stuck on this team till he’s dead?” You say, rubbing your temples to calm the headache you feel throbbing in your head.

Kate walks back to her desk and leans on it, facing you. “No, you’re gonna stay on this team even after you kill him.”

You feel your heart stop beating against your chest, your lungs pausing mid inhale, your fingers moistening with sweat coming from your brow.

You hear ringing in your ears. Screaming. It’s the girl in your reflection, the mirror; she’s screaming. You lift your head from your hands and stare at her through the corner of your eye.

“What?”

Your mom sighs and walks to stand in front of you, leaning on her desk.

“What I’m about to tell you,” She starts, looking at you with hard eyes. “Is something that needs to stay in this room you hear me?”

Your fingers twitch and you find yourself nodding.

She sighs and rubs her head as if she’s fighting s headache right now. She looks stressed. “I heard talk about the Shadow Company kidnapping a scientist.”

Your brows furrow. “A scientist?” You asked. Where is she going with this?

She nods in response to you. “A scientist. His name is Dr. Kelly Berkman. American, mid to late forties, three kids and a wife—”

“Mom.”

“He’s, he’s the CEO of The White Lotus.”

You sit there, confused out of your mind as to why she would be telling you this. The White Lotus is a relatively small company that makes vaccines. Why would he kidnap an innocent man?

Kate stands there, watching you, pleading for you to connect the dots.

When your eyes widen and hands fall limp on your legs, her eyes shine bright with sadness.

You suck in a breath and will it to be your last. “He’s making a bioweapon.”

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