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outerspacebisexual · 4 months

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Memories of Days Gone By - Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer has never understood having a cluttered desk at work. Then you start at the BAU, and he's forced to share a desk with the least desk-tidy person in the whole FBI. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Word count: 3.1k Warnings: none, except talk of reader getting shot a/n: woah, outerspacebisexual actually writing instead of just reblogging post about writing? crazy Masterlist

Spencer always thought that having personal mementos in the workplace was weird.

Maybe it came from his mother, whose desk was always so cluttered she could barely place anything down without something else falling off. He could—as with everything else—vividly remember sitting in her office chair, spinning in around and around in circles, watching his framed toothy six-year-old-self flying past him again and again and again.

She never swapped out that photo, even when he got older and his round, chubby face became angular with his teen years. Not when he graduated high school, or college, or college again. In fact, he knew for certain that photo still sat on his mother’s bedside table. So you’re always here with me, she’d said on one of her good days. And even though most of the time she had no idea who the tiny child with thick frames was, she still traced a finger down the side of the glass before bed.

When Spencer first joined the BAU, he’d made a point to ensure his desk was cleared every hour. Empty coffee cups, old files, shredding, sticky notes; after one hour, it all went. That way he could ensure that everything got done.

And that same habit continued for years, until you showed up.

Hi, you’d said on your first day, sticking out your hand and smiling wide. Looks like we’re desk buddies.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The desk had belonged to Emily before you got there, and the idea of looking up and seeing you was just another reminder that he’d lost her.

He was nice to you, of course. You hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d simply taken a job opening from the ballistics unit to the BAU. It wasn’t your fault that his dead friend’s desk was now yours.

At first, he noticed how you had a habit of leaving empty coffee cups on your desk, choosing to get another one rather than reuse the one already on your desk. It wasn’t a problem. There were plenty of mugs in the kitchen. But when your chair hit your desk, they chimed together, and the noise set him on edge.

He left it alone for the first month.

But then came the files.

Files piled up on your desk---not in neat piles marked ‘Complete’ and ‘Incomplete’ like his—just spread out across the surface in every direction and orientation. And as the week went on, more and more were added until there was no discernible way to tell which had been done and which hadn’t. This led to you having to leaf through folder after folder until you found the one you were looking every day.

Spencer had been tempted to say something one week when he’d watched you out of the corner of his eye search for a file for fifteen minutes. You’d found it right as he opened his mouth, spinning in your chair and heading straight for Garcia’s office. Spencer had sat and stared at the mountain of manila folders then entire time you were gone, thinking to himself, How could you put up with this?

How could you deal with having to fight with your desk at every second of the day just to find something? The idea of it made him want to throw up. Not that his apartment was any better, he knew that. But there was a difference between work and home. Home was allowed to be messy and cluttered, full of the rest of your life outside of work. Work was work. It depended on being able to obtain information quickly and efficiently—not after ten minutes of rooting around.

Hey, Reid? you’d asked one afternoon. Have you seen that Milwaukee case file?

Which one?

The consult one? With the three missing girls?

He tried his best not to roll his eyes. I think you put it down on the edge of your desk.

You spun and rifled through the stack, grinning when you held it up. You’re a genius, you know that?

Pursing his lips, he said, Believe it or not, I do.

Spencer might’ve been bad at reading social clues, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you were just trying to be nice and start a conversation, but he reached over and lifted the phone to his ear, pretending not to notice the way your face fell. You quietly turned back to your computer and opened the file.

A week later, you tried again. Reid, do you want coffee?

No, he answered quickly, despite blinking back the sting of a 3:00am emergency case. ‘Urgent’ was all the text from Hotch had said, and now he was sitting behind his desk once again, for the fifty-second hour this week. Hotch was never wrong. There had never been a case that Hotch had chosen where the team hadn’t been needed, not in all the years Spencer had worked for the BAU. But he couldn’t deny that there were times that he wished he wasn’t at work.

You sure? I know we got more sugar, if that’s what you’re worried about.

I’m fine, he snapped, harsher than he’d intended. Thankfully, you left it alone.

Then, you were all in Atlanta, consulting on a case of three male bodies and another man missing. By the morning, his head had cleared, and he noticed the space you’d put between the two of you when you both arrived at the ME’s office.

Doctor Glenn, thanks for meeting with us, you started.

Doctor Glenn had smile brightly at you, standing from behind his desk to shake your hand. Spencer waved. Of course. And please, Scott is fine.

You sent him a soft smile. Where are we with the latest autopsy?

Well, from what I can tell, the murder weapon was some sort of short-bladed knife. What kind, I can’t say for certain. The advanced decomposition on all three makes it tricky.

Something like a kitchen knife? Or pocketknife?

Scott nodded. It’s possible. Like I said, I can’t be sure at this stage.

Can I see the photos? Spencer asked.

Absolutely, Scott replied. I was going to give you the file anyway. He opened the closest folder to him, but frowned. Oh, this isn’t right. Sorry, it’s here somewhere.

Noting his reddening cheeks the longer he searched, you said, Your desk looks a lot like mine.

If Scott noticed you attempt to put him at ease, he didn’t make it known. Brows pinched tightly together, he queried, The BAU doesn’t have strict guidelines on that kind of thing?

You shrugged. Maybe, it does. Though, I’m sure I’d have been written up by now if it did. You leaned forward in your chair to glance at the photo frames on the side. Spencer could see them clearly from where he sat. Two dozen frames littered the side of his desk, all displaying four boys---from baby photos to teenagers. Are they your boys?

Scott, visibly grateful to have a distraction while he continued rustling through drawers, didn’t look up. Yes, the four of them. James, Patrick, John, and Liam.

Spencer watched in silence the conversation the two of you had.

How old?

James is almost 21, Patrick, 19, and John and Liam are both 16.

Twins?

Indeed.

Must have been a handful when they were younger, I’m sure.

He smiled gently. You don’t know the half of it. John’s decided to head to college in California and Liam’s heading to New York.

It must be nice to have them close, at least for the time being, you replied.

It is. I don’t quite know what I’ll do once they’re gone, if I’m honest. And I worry. Like every parent does, I suppose.

Well, if they’re half as kind as all these photos make them out to be, then I’m sure they’ll be just fine.

That’s kind of you to say. I’m not blind, either. I know it’s a lot.

You laughed. It’s not, I promise. It’s nice to have something to remind you of the good. Especially with jobs like yours and mine. Reminds you of what you’re working for. Who you’re working for. There’s so much darkness out there, if we don’t remind ourselves, we can get lost in it.

Scott produced a file from the bottom drawer, and Spencer just stared at you, even as you took the file and flipped through it.

A month later, Spencer found himself hunched over his desk, computer brightness on low as he tried his best to block out the noise emanating from every corner of the bull pen. With the migraine he was sporting, he was sure he could hear all the way to reception, which did nothing to help his pounding head. He clicked random buttons on his computer as his eyes watched each minute tick by.

Four hours. That was all he had left. Then he could leave and collapse down onto his couch and sleep for two days until it was gone. With each passing minute, his brain fog got worse, until he was reading the same sentence for the fifth time in a row without comprehending what it was saying. Who even sends an email at 1:04pm on a Friday?

Aaron Hotchner, according to the contact name at the top. He needed to reply. Hotch would be expecting an answer.

Spencer hadn’t even realised you’d been speaking until you waved a hand in the air over the partition between your desks.

What? he asked, when you just stared blankly at him.

I asked if you were OK?

He sat up straighter, doing his best to ignore the pain that stabbed through him. I’m fine.

You cocked an eyebrow. Are you sure? You don’t look great.

I said I’m fine.

You were silent for a long moment, and you refused to break eye contact with him. That was until you leaned over and reefed open a drawer.

What are you doing?

You continued to dig through it. I have some pain meds in here. Nothing fancy, but you look like you could use some ibuprofen.

I don’t need it.

And I don’t need to sit here and watch you suffer for the rest of the day, Reid. Seriously. It’s painfully obvious.

Spencer didn’t have it in him to reply. Any other day, and he might’ve snapped at you. But today, he would take your kindness. As he came around to your side, he peeked inside your drawer, noting it was the same as the top of your desk. Cluttered and messy.

He stared at the mountain of files, eyes roaming over your desk. Your nameplate. Your empty coffee cups. Your photos. He paused as he took them in—for the first time since you’d been here.

Many different photos were tacked onto the partition. Most were of a cat and a dog and a few people who he assumed were family and friends from outside of work.

Only one was framed—a photo of the team. He could remember the day. You’d only been at the BAU for a month and upon returning from a hard case, Garcia had surprised you with a cake and balloons in the conference room. You’d cried, he remembered. Which he’d thought was weird, but hadn’t taken much note of at the time. Anderson had snapped a photo at Garcia’s insistence.

Suddenly, a sleeve of ibuprofen was thrust into his chest. Here.

Thank you, he mumbled.

You don’t need to thank me, Reid. Just take it, and maybe seen Hotch about leaving early. That can be your thanks. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, which he returned before heading to the breakroom.

Six months after you started at the BAU, you got shot.

Not life-threatening, but a bullet to the shoulder meant you were laid up on leave for two weeks.

The bullpen had never been so quiet, Spencer thought. Though maybe it was his guilt that made him think that. It had racked him every day of the two weeks since they’d gotten back from Wichita. The bullet had been meant for him, and if he’d actually been paying attention to his surroundings, then he wouldn’t have missed the UnSub lining up the shot, and you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way, taking the hit for him.

Your screams still echoed in his mind. The first, his name: Spencer! Get down! And the second, your yelp of pain. Spencer had fired off two shots in quick succession, taking out the UnSub with barely more than a thought before he was turning to you lying flat on your back and gripping your shoulder.

He’d accompanied you to the hospital, where they said long-term damage was unlikely, but you would have a long road to recovery until you had full use of your arm again.

Hotch had immediately put you on leave, threatening that he’d make you take even longer if he saw you in the office at all before the two weeks was up. You had kept your word to him that you’d take the full two weeks.

Spencer hadn’t been sure what to do about your desk for the first few days. Hotch had instructed him to take over your files, which was easier said than done.

Heaving your last folder into his ‘Complete’ tray, he breathed a sigh of relief. Glancing at the clock, he realised he’d been zoned out writing reports for four hours. The rest of the team had all gone—aside from Hotch, but when wasn’t he in his office.

Starting over the partition, Spencer eyed the mess that still cluttered your desk. He hadn’t wanted to touch anything except the files, which he’d gingerly sorted into what was done and what wasn’t, careful not to disturb anything else on the desk.

Now, staring at all you’d left behind when they’d suddenly been forced to jet off, he wondered if tidying it was the least he could do. Maybe you would thank him for it. Or maybe you’d tear his head off for touching your stuff.

He decided to take that risk.

Collecting the loose papers and random Post-its, he placed them neatly into piles to the right of your computer. Most where mindless reminders for yourself—Get the dry cleaning! and Pay the water bill by tonight!

Spencer wasn’t always grateful for his eidetic memory, but not having to remember small day-to-day tasks was a huge bonus for him. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to cope without it.

He straightened the tacked photographs and wiped down the team photo. He made sure your computer was properly plugged in. He ensured your tablet was fully charged for your return. He was almost satisfied, when he noticed one green Post-it note had fallen behind your monitor screen. Weaving his hands between the cords, he pulled it out.

Thanks for the ibuprofen. I really appreciate it.

Below his barely legible script, sat a small face he’d doodled. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought anything of it since he stuck it to your monitor.

But you still had it, even two months later.

He stuck it back where he’d put it the first time.

You’re back, Spencer said as he entered the bullpen the next morning.

I am, you replied, grinning wide. Do I have you to thank for this?

Placing his bag down on his seat, he said, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Oh, come on. There’s only one other office neat freak in this whole place, and I know for a fact it wasn’t Hotch. When he said nothing, you rolled your eyes. Fine. Guess I’ll have to pass my thanks on to the boss man.

Spencer smiled as he unloaded his bag.

Cat got your tongue or something, Reid? He kept his lips sealed perfectly shut. Ok, then. Keep your secrets. I don’t need to know them. I don’t want to know them anyway.

I’m getting a coffee, he said suddenly, cutting off your teasing drawl. Do you want one?

You blinked. What?

I said, I’m getting a coffee. Would you also like one?

Uh, yeah. That would be great, you managed after a moment. Thanks.

He nodded, and he pretended he didn’t feel your eyes watching him the whole time as he made his way to the break room.

“Reid?” Morgan called, and Spencer looked up from the file he was currently nose-deep in. “Are you coming?”

“What’s happening?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

Morgan groaned. “Don’t tell me you forgot about dinner at Rossi’s tonight.”

“Oh, that’s tonight?”

“Yes, pretty boy. How could you forget?”

“I didn’t forget,” he mumbled, gathering his belongings as Morgan made his way over to him.

“From the looks of it, you absolutely did.”

“I didn’t. I just…have a lot on my mind.”

Morgan stopped at the side of Spencer’s desk, his signature smirk adorning his face. Spencer didn’t even look at him as he hastily jammed files into his bag.

“This is new,” Morgan commented, and he glanced over to see him staring at a framed photo he’d picked up.

When he flipped it around, Spencer could see it. The photo of him in his apartment, sitting on the couch, grinning ear to ear, and you sat right beside him, holding your left hand up to display the shiny ring adorning your finger. You’re looking directly at the camera. Spencer is only looking at you.

Spencer took the photo from him. “I liked it, so I got it printed.”

He didn’t have to tell him that he got every photo printed now. He’d never been a fan of technology, and the idea that all his best memories were being held ransom on a device that could be destroyed any minute made his head spin. So, he got every photo printed. Most were safely tucked away in albums on his bookshelf at his apartment.

But this one was special.

Morgan’s voice was gentle as he said, “It’s nice.”

Spencer smiled and brushed a finger over the glass. “Reminds me of the good,” he said.

Then he placed it back down on his desk, the frame right at home amongst all the others.

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jetii · 2 months

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Infinite Possibilities of the Universe

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader / Tech x Jedi!Reader

Words: 9,466

Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, grief/death/mourning, brief description of anxiety attack/autistic meltdown, reader is referred to as Sarad

Summary: You fell on Kaller, and Tech is the only one who can't let you go. But he knows what the others don't: you're alive, and you're coming back to him. All he has to do is be patient.

A/N: This is sad right up until the end I'm sorry. Thank you @baddest-batchers for the prompt!

Dantooine’s sun shone down on the fields, glinting off of the armor and helmets of the Batch as they relaxed in the afternoon rays. Wrecker and Omega had run off a few hours ago to go find some animal or another, so it was just the boys and a few crates of spare parts that needed to be sorted and put away.

They were in no hurry, and so Hunter and Echo took up a spot by one of the few Blba trees around for miles and started going through the boxes, pulling out pieces that they could repair and reuse, setting aside what needed to be scrapped. It was mindless work, and so it wasn't long before they started up a game of saigok to pass the time.

Tech, as always, was holed up inside the Marauder. The rest of the squad could hear him tinkering around in there, and had learned to tune out the quiet sounds of clinking and clicking from inside.

This time, though, Echo heard the quiet murmur of his voice, and glanced over at Hunter.

The Sergeant was leaning back against the tree, arms folded and legs stretched out in front of him, eyes closed as he basked in the sunlight. He looked perfectly at peace, but Echo knew that he was very much aware of everything that was going on around him.

And yet he hadn’t said anything.

Echo frowned and turned to look over his shoulder, but all he could see was the open ramp of the Marauder, the top of which was hidden by a row of tall, green plants.

He turned back to his game with Hunter, trying to concentrate on the board and the pieces, but he couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was amiss.

It didn't take him long to lose his second piece. Hunter, ever the tactician, didn't comment on it, and so the two played on, both lost in their own thoughts until Echo couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

"Do you think Tech's alright?"

Hunter opened his eyes, looking at Echo. His expression didn't change, but he sat up straighter. “I'm sure he's fine."

Echo wasn't convinced. "He's been up there for a while. I don't think I've ever seen him this quiet."

Hunter shrugged. "He's probably tinkering with his new project, the one he keeps in his bunk."

"But—“

"I can hear him talking," Hunter interrupted, closing his eyes again. "He's just not talking to us. You know he does that sometimes."

“That's not the point." Echo looked back over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of whatever Tech was doing. "Something doesn't feel right."

Hunter was quiet for a moment, and then let out a sigh. “He’s talking to her.”

"Who? Omega?"

"No."

Echo thought back over the past months. He'd overheard Tech muttering to himself several times, but it was never about a her, as far as he could tell. Then it hit him.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"But she's—“

"I know," Hunter said. He sighed again and shifted, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back against the trunk. “But that's how Tech copes. He talks to her. She's not gone, not for him."

Echo wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, and so he didn't. Instead, he got to his feet and headed over to the Marauder.

Inside the cockpit, he could see the back of Tech's head as he sat in the pilot's seat. The door was open, and so Echo didn't feel the need to announce his presence. He walked down the hall, listening closely.

"—and the power converters in the shield generators have been giving me trouble lately. I'll need to do a more thorough investigation soon."

Echo ducked next to the wall of the cockpit, listening. Tech was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was a little softer.

"You would love this planet, Sarad. There are hundreds of new species of creatures and flora to document. It's very beautiful here. You would enjoy the sunshine."

Echo felt a sharp pain in his chest. It wasn't just his mechanical parts, though those often ached with phantom pains, especially when it rained. This pain was different, and it made him pause. Your loss had hit them all hard, and even now, months later, he could feel the lingering effects.

Tech had taken it the hardest. Your relationship hadn't been a secret, and he'd spent nearly every waking hour with you when he could. And then...

Don't, he told himself, pushing the memories away. Just don't.

But he couldn't stop himself from looking up, his gaze landing on the little shelf that hung above Tech's bunk. On it among the scattered parts and tools sat a little model ship, a small clay flower, and a holo-pic.

It was a photo of the six of them, back on Coruscant, when things had been simpler. You were sitting on a crate, legs crossed, hands on your knees, a grin on your face. The others were gathered around you, and you couldn't tell by their smiles how much you had begged and pleaded with them to sit still for five minutes.

"What's the point of taking a holo-pic if we aren't going to smile?"

"A holo-pic isn't worth the hassle."

"Come on, it'll be fun! Tech, come here. I want you to be in it, too."

"But I'm busy."

"Please? For me?"

"...Very well."

Tech wasn't even looking at the camera, he was too busy watching you.

You had noticed, and you had reached over and gently nudged his arm, and the holo-pic captured the moment perfectly.

After the click of the camera you had jumped to your feet, excitedly showing off your own copy. Tech had tried to act indifferent, but Echo had noticed him looking at it often, and more than once had caught him smiling softly as he did so.

It had been Omega who suggested that the photo be added to the little shelf, despite never knowing you. And after a little persuasion from the rest of the crew, Tech had finally relented.

And now the picture was tucked into a frame next to the little clay flower you had made, the ship hanging above it. They were the only two things on the shelf that didn't belong to Tech, and they were the two things that Echo had never seen him without.

Echo hadn't thought much about it, but the memory was suddenly crystal clear. Tech, his arm around your waist, a soft smile on his face. The look in his gaze was unmistakable.

He loved you.

And now he was never going to see you again.

Echo looked away, swallowing the lump that rose in his throat. He didn't want to intrude any more than he already was, and so he retreated back down the ramp.

When he got back to the tree, Hunter had abandoned their game and was now sitting cross legged, elbows resting on his knees. He watched Echo approach and raised his eyebrows.

"Well?"

Echo sighed and sat down. "You were right."

"What did he say?"

Echo looked down, picking up a loose twig and turning it over in his hands. "Just...talking to her. About what they would do, if she was here."

Hunter didn't reply, and so Echo continued, "She'd like it here. It's peaceful. No wars."

He could feel Hunter's eyes on him, but kept his own eyes on the twig, running his thumb over the smooth bark.

"He's still waiting for her."

"I know."

Echo sighed. He hated not knowing what to do, especially when it came to Tech. "I wish he would talk to us about it. She's been gone for nearly four months. You'd think he would have let her go by now."

Hunter shook his head. "You and I both know that he's not going to let her go. Not as long as there's a chance she's still out there."

"But there isn't a chance," Echo pointed out, "He saw her fall, didn't he?"

"That's not what he believes."

"Why not?"

"You know why not," Hunter replied. "She was the only person who saw the galaxy the same way he did. They understood each other, and not in the way that we do."

"So what, we just let him go on thinking that she might still be out there? It's not good for him, you have to know that."

Hunter didn't respond right away.

"Tech knows what he's doing," he said finally. "If he wants our help, he'll ask for it. For now, we have to respect his boundaries. And that means no talking about her, not even in passing. If Tech wants to think that she's still out there, then that's what we have to let him believe. That's how he copes."

Echo wasn't thrilled, but he didn't want to go against Hunter's wishes, and so he stayed silent. He turned his attention back to the box of spare parts, and for a while the two of them worked in silence. But every once in a while, Echo would glance up at the Marauder and the tiny figure that was hunched over the navicomputer.

He knew that Hunter was right. There wasn't much that he could do to help. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

Tech stared at the datapad in his hand, but his mind wasn't really on the screen. Instead, his thoughts were turned towards the planet outside and the sun-soaked fields that he had left his brothers in. He knew that it was a beautiful day, but he couldn't bring himself to get up and go out there.

Not while Sarad wasn't with him.

His fingers tightened around the edges of the datapad, knuckles turning white. A sudden surge of anger coursed through him, and he wanted nothing more than to hurl the datapad across the cockpit, but he managed to reign it in and set the device down on the console, his grip still tight.

He didn't know why it bothered him so much, having to spend this day alone. The anniversary of your first meeting had never seemed like a big deal to him before. Of course, that was because you had been there. Now, though, with nothing but empty space between him and the rest of the galaxy, he had never felt so isolated.

He had been trying to distract himself, but none of his usual tinkering projects could hold his attention. Nothing seemed to be able to block out the emptiness, and his anger.

Tech had never liked anger. It was messy, unorganized, and dangerous. It had been a long time since he had last felt the full force of his anger, but now it was back, and it was worse than before.

Because, unlike before, his anger was mixed with grief.

You had talked about it once, when you were lying in his bunk, curled up against each other, your head tucked against his neck, fingers tracing absent patterns over his chest.

"What would you do, if something happened to me?"

He had frowned, not understanding why you would ask him such a thing. "Nothing will happen to you."

"Just pretend," you'd insisted. "If I were gone, what would you do?"

He had tried to imagine it, and the thought had sent a chill down his spine. He had never felt that way about someone before, and the thought of losing you was too terrible to even consider.

"I'd find you," he'd said.

"But what if you couldn't?"

"That is not possible. There is no place that you could go that I would not follow. Even if we were separated by the entire galaxy, I would still find a way."

"Tech, come on. Pretend with me. If you couldn't find me, and you thought I was gone, what would you do?"

He had considered your words for a moment, then answered, "I would keep looking. You wouldn't leave me. Not without telling me first."

You had lifted your head, a small, sad smile on your lips. "How do you know that?"

"I just do."

The look in your eyes was indecipherable. "You can't know that. There are no guarantees, Tech. If I'm gone, then I'm gone. I'm part of the living Force, and eventually I'll return. You can't stay stuck on me. You'll have to move on, one way or another."

He hadn't liked that idea. He couldn't even fathom the possibility of her being gone.

"No."

"Tech..."

"No," he'd said, more firmly this time. "You wouldn't leave. You wouldn't. And I will always find you."

Your eyes were shining, and he didn't understand.

"Why are you talking about this?" he'd asked. "There's no reason for you to leave. You'll stay with us."

"You don't know that. There's a war, Tech, anything could happen."

"No."

"But—"

"We are not talking about this anymore." He'd said, cutting you off. He couldn't bear to think about it, and he was beginning to feel uneasy. You were the first person who had ever cared about him, and the idea of losing you was unfathomable.

"But—"

"Stop," he'd said, more harshly than he'd meant to.

You'd stopped, staring at him. Then, slowly, your head had lowered, and you'd pressed your face against his neck again.

"I'm sorry," you'd said quietly.

"It's alright," he'd replied, feeling bad about the way he had snapped at you. He hadn't meant to get angry, but the thought of losing you was terrifying. He needed you.

You'd pulled yourself closer, arms wrapping around him, holding onto him as tightly as you could. He'd hugged you back, and the two of you had laid there together, and eventually, you had fallen asleep.

Tech lied awake that night, staring at the ceiling, trying to imagine what it would be like if you were gone.

He hadn't been able to do it.

And yet, here he was, barely keeping a tight grip on his emotions, the ache in his chest threatening to consume him.

It wasn't fair.

None of this was fair.

Tech had always tried to accept things as they were. It was easier, and he had never found it worth the effort to question his reality. Sarad, though, had been different.

Sarad had never accepted the world as it was. You had never allowed yourself to settle for things that were. And so you had changed everything, just by being there. But now you were gone. And so the galaxy, and his life, had returned to its previous state.

Tech's eyes burned, but he was able to keep the tears at bay. It was the same way that he had done every day since you fall.

It isn't fair, he thought again. It isn't fair.

If only you were here, Sarad. You could fix this. You could fix anything.

His thoughts drifted back to his brothers, who were undoubtedly wondering what was wrong with him. He knew that they had questions, but they would never ask him. They had an unspoken agreement to never talk about you, and while he appreciated their respect, he couldn't help but wish that they would break it, just this once.

Then maybe he wouldn't have to sit here alone, the cockpit cold and dark around him, as he tried to keep his anger under control.

Sarad would have known what to do.

A memory surfaced, and for the first time in months, he let it come.

It had been early in the morning, and they had been on an unknown planet, waiting for a storm to pass before they could leave. They had all been asleep, except for Sarad, who had decided to go outside to get some air. You had asked him if he wanted to come with you, and so the two of you had stepped outside into the cool darkness.

The storm clouds had blocked out the stars and the moonlight, and it was pitch black outside. You had held onto his arm, and he had kept a hand on the blaster at his hip, as neither of them could see more than a few feet in front of them. And when you were far enough away from camp, you stopped.

"Isn't it amazing?"

Tech had looked at you. "What is?"

"The universe," you said, staring up at the sky. "All the planets, and the stars, and the endless possibilities."

"It's certainly a vast place," Tech had replied, "but what exactly makes it amazing?"

"The fact that it exists."

"Many things exist. Most people wouldn't find that particularly exciting."

"True," you had said. "But it's different when it comes to the universe."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I suppose I could compare it to an individual," you had mused, "If you had lived your whole life knowing only the inside of one small house, and then suddenly you found out that there was a whole galaxy beyond it, wouldn't you be excited to see the stars?"

"I would be curious, yes."

"I feel the same way, but with the universe. Every time I look up at the stars, I know that there are millions of other planets, with thousands of other species. The sheer chance of a person like me existing in a place like this is astounding. So many things have had to go just right, and even then, the probability of my being here, now, is almost infinitesimal."

"The chances of a life such as ours are incredibly slim," Tech had agreed.

"I think that's what makes it special."

"What do you mean?"

"The universe is infinite," you had explained, "So the chances of my ever meeting someone from another part of the galaxy are infinitesimally small. But because the universe is infinite, that means that there are an infinite number of possibilities. And so there's a possibility that we could meet, that we could work together. The chances are so slim that they're practically nonexistent, but the possibilities are infinite."

"I don't know that I would have ever thought about it that way."

"Well, then, maybe we could explore the infinite possibilities of the universe together," you had suggested with a shrug of your shoulder. "It'll be fun. Just the two of us."

"And what if our infinite possibilities are limited to the confines of a single ship?"

"That would be fine," you had told him, smiling. "As long as we're together, then it doesn't matter where we go."

The memory ended there, and Tech blinked, realizing that his vision was blurry. A single tear had escaped his control, and he reached up and wiped it away with the back of his hand.

He missed you.

There were so many things that he wanted to say, so many words that had never been said. There was so much that you had left unfinished, so many plans and ideas that you had yet to accomplish, and now he feared it was too late.

Tech turned his focus back to his datapad, scrolling through the files. He stopped on one in particular, and for a moment, just looked at it.

Then he hit play.

It was a video, recorded shortly after his brothers had left you alone for the night. He hadn't been sure why he had made it at the time, but looking back now, he could see the reason. He had wanted to remember you.

The video began to play, and his breath caught in his throat as he watched you, bathed in the pale light of the computer, eyes shining as you spoke. You looked at the camera, and for a moment, Tech felt as though you were looking straight at him.

He couldn't hear the words, not anymore. But he knew them by heart, and so his mouth moved silently as he watched the recording, committing every moment, every gesture, every expression to memory.

“What are you doing?” Sarad asked, looking at the camera.

Tech had shifted, feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable.

"Just...recording."

"Recording what?"

"This," he had answered, gesturing around him. It hadn’t been a very good answer, and you had laughed.

"Why?"

"To...to document our trip."

"That sounds very scientific."

"It is."

"Well, I don't really understand," you had replied, "But I suppose you could always explain it to me later."

"I'll have to. I'm sure you'll have plenty of questions."

"Then you'll have to tell me everything," you had said. "And don't leave anything out. I want to know every detail."

"That will take quite a while."

"Then we'll just have to spend a lot of time together."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Perhaps," you had replied. Then, smiling, "Yes, I suppose it is. I would like to spend a lot of time with you, Tech."

"Then perhaps I will tell you," he had said.

You had smiled, and he had smiled back.

"I look forward to it."

When the video ended, he started it again, watching the familiar image, memorizing the way your hands moved and the curve of your smile and the brightness of your eyes. He watched it until his eyes burned, and then he watched it once more.

And when the pain became too much, and the anger rose up and threatened to overwhelm him, he played it again, and again, and again.

And eventually, the pain subsided, and the anger was pushed aside, and all he felt was you.

"I look forward to it," the recording said.

"I do, too," Tech murmured.

“You’ll have to tell me everything.”

"Then we'll just have to spend a lot of time together."

He could see the love in your eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t seen it then, hadn’t even considered the possibility. But looking back now, the memory of your love was so clear, and it took his breath away.

"Yes, I suppose it is. I would like to spend a lot of time with you, Tech."

He watched the video once more, and when it was over, he closed the tab and stared at his reflection in the blank screen.

He could still feel the anger, but it had lessened, and was no longer directed at the universe. It was, instead, aimed at himself.

You should have known, he thought, his fingers tightening around the edges of the datapad. You should have seen the signs. You should have said something.

It isn’t a logical thought. He couldn’t have known what would happen on Kaller and everything that followed, and he had had no reason to believe that anything would change.

And yet, his mind was convinced that he had missed something, that he could have prevented you from ever leaving his side.

It isn't logical, but he still feels it.

Slowly, his grip on the datapad eased, and he turned his attention back to his reflection. He saw his eyes were rimmed with red, and his hair was tousled from where he had run his hands through it.

Sarad would have liked that.

You would have teased him for his messy hair, and then you would have smoothed it out and laughed. You would have been the only person he would have let do something like that.

His hands were shaking, and he took a deep breath, forcing his muscles to relax.

It will pass, he told himself. It will pass. I will see her again. It will pass.

He repeated the phrase over and over in his mind, letting the words fill him and block out the anger. He had lost you, but you weren't gone. Not forever.

There, buried in the scores of data files and programs that made up his datapad, was the last message he received from you. Dated nearly three months ago, it was heavily encrypted, and he’d required a cypher to unlock it.

Inside, there was a simple message:

"I'm safe, and I'm alive. I'll find you again. No matter what happens, I love you. Sarad."

Tech had spent the first month after Kaller trying to decipher the message. It had taken him days, but when he finally figured it out, the words had been like a lifeline. There were no coordinates, and no indication of where you had gone. All Tech had was your promise, and his belief that you would always keep your word. He knew that the message was a risk, but you had known that he would never stop looking, and so you had sent him something to hold on to, and it had been enough.

He had held onto your words since, keeping them close to his heart. He had read the message hundreds of times, and had never gotten tired of it. And whenever he felt lost, or alone, or angry, he would read it once more, and allow the words to guide him back.

They were a promise, and so he would wait.

He would wait, and when you came back to him, he would be ready. He would never let you go.

Then, as the sun began to set outside, he put the datapad aside and looked up. Outside the window, the stars were beginning to appear. And, he thought, if his infinite possibilities were limited to the confines of a single ship, then he would spend the rest of his life traveling with you.

And so he turned the lights off and sat in the dark, the stars reflecting in his goggles as he gazed out at the galaxy.

And he waited.

Tech waited until the others had fallen asleep before settling into the cockpit. He didn't want any distractions, just as he didn’t want his brothers to worry. They would, though, even without him saying a word. They were good at that.

He didn’t mind, though. He only wished he could tell them the truth. But it wasn’t his secret to share. They wouldn’t believe him anyway, he knew, and so it was better this way.

So, when the lights were out and the engines had quieted, he slipped away from the bunks and down the hall, taking his place at the pilot's seat.

He sat down and leaned back, getting comfortable before he took out his datapad and typed in the code. A single message appeared on the screen, and Tech read it one more time, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

"I'm safe, and I'm alive. I'll find you again. No matter what happens, I love you. Sarad."

Satisfied, he closed the message and lifted his hand to the recording device on his goggles, and started a new file.

"Hello Sarad. Today, we logged a total of 17 hours in hyperspace, which brings our total log to 18,802 hours. The others have grown tired of counting, but I have continued the process. In fact, I believe we will be able to exceed 20,000 hours by the end of the year."

Tech paused, and then took a deep breath.

"There isn't much to report today, and so I have decided to share a few memories. First, I would like to remind you of the time we were stranded on Mygeeto, when we got lost in the mountains and spent three days trying to find our way back to the others."

Tech smiled, remembering the snow and the cold and the laughter. It was the first time the two of them had ever argued, but by the end of it, they were laughing so hard she could barely walk.

"I recall that I had told you several times to wear warmer clothing," he went on, "but you had insisted that the extra layers would hinder your movement. I am pleased to report that you eventually listened, although not until the second day, and the result was that you had to wear half of my gear and could hardly move without assistance."

He smiled at the memory, and then continued, detailing the various mishaps and misadventures of that mission. “You didn't mind, though, and you even thanked me. I have never heard anyone thank me for being right before, but I suppose there's a first time for everything."

He paused, and his voice grew quiet.

"You were the first to admit that you had been wrong, and the first to apologize. That was something else that I hadn't experienced before. Your apology was accepted, of course. I never held the incident against you, and I have never been able to be mad at you for more than a few minutes. That hasn't changed, either."

Tech sighed and adjusted his glasses.

"We're almost to our destination. The others are asleep, and the ship is quiet. I know you would enjoy the peace and quiet. There's no sound quite like the hum of the engines, and the silence of space."

He fell silent, thinking about what he wanted to say next. He took another breath, and his next words were spoken almost reverently.

"I miss you, Sarad. I hope you are well. I know that you will contact me when you are ready, and I am confident that it will be soon. But until then, I will keep the record, and I will share it with you when you return. For now, though, I will wait.

"I love you, Sarad. And I will see you soon."

And, his eyes fixed on the stars outside, he reached up and switched off the recording.

For a while, he just sat there, staring out the window at the stars. They blurred, and he blinked, the tears gathering on his eyelashes. He wiped them away, and then looked down at his hands. They were still shaking, and he curled them into fists, trying to stop the tremors.

Eventually, the shaking stopped, and Tech looked up at the stars again. He didn't know why he was shaking, or why his hands were sweating, or why his throat felt so tight.

Perhaps it is because I am afraid, he thought.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it was true.

He was afraid, because he didn't know when, or even if, you would contact him again. He didn't know if he would see you again. And even if he did, he didn't know what would happen.

So many questions, and so few answers.

He was used to working with facts, but he was finding that this situation was lacking. And that meant that he didn't know what would happen.

It was frightening, the not knowing.

Tech was used to being in control. It was his job, as the technician and navigator of the team. He had to know how to fix things, and when to do it, and where. But he had no control over you, and no control over the galaxy, and no control over the future.

And that scared him.

But then, suddenly, he remembered something you had said to him, long ago, on a different planet and a different day.

You'd asked him about a strange phenomena occurring on the horizon, and he had floundered in his answer. The best he could ascertain, it was some sort of magnetic field, caused by a large mass of rock below the surface. He hadn’t been certain, and it had bothered him.

He had been frustrated, but you had only smiled and placed a hand on his arm.

"That's okay," you'd told him. "It doesn't have to have an explanation. It can just be. If we try to figure out the cause of everything, we won't have time to enjoy it.”

He had tried to argue, but had eventually given in.

"Besides," you'd added, "I'd rather spend time with you, and not on finding the answer.”

Your words had surprised him, and for a moment, he hadn’t been able to respond.

"You...want to spend time with me?"

"Of course I do," you had replied.

"But...why?"

"Because I love you."

He'd been speechless.

"Oh," he'd said.

You'd laughed, and he had been able to do nothing but stand there and stare at you.

"I'm sorry," you had said. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, no," he had managed. "It's...I'm fine. Just...you..."

"Love you?"

"Yes."

"I do."

"Oh."

Tech had had no idea how to respond. The words didn't seem real. But when you had smiled, and reached for his hand, he had finally begun to understand.

"I'm sorry," you had apologized again. "I've wanted to say that for a while, but I wasn't sure how. I thought that you would find it odd."

“You are odd, yes," he had agreed, "but not in the way you think."

"What do you mean?"

"I find you to be odd in a pleasant way," he had explained. "You're...different. In a good way."

"That's very poetic, coming from you."

"I was not being poetic," he had corrected you. "I was simply stating the truth."

Sarad had laughed again. "So what is it, then?"

"You are unique," he had told you. "There is no one else like you. You are an anomaly, and a rare one at that. I am glad to have met you."

You had been quiet for a moment.

"I'm glad, too," you had said.

And then you had kissed him, and he had felt something new and exciting and wonderful.

"I love you," you had murmured.

He had been unable to say the words back, but he had known that he would say them one day. And, after that, every day.

And so he had kissed you, and the two of you had watched the lightshow together, and it had been perfect.

Tech looked up at the stars now, remembering the way the sky had glowed, and the warmth of your hand on his arm.

That was where his memory ended. But the words came back to him, and he found himself repeating them.

"I love you," he whispered.

The words seemed small and insignificant compared to the vastness of space, and the galaxy, and all the planets and stars beyond. But they were real, and they were true, and that was all that mattered.

They were real, and so were you.

And the not knowing was terrifying, but Tech was patient. He would wait, and he would see you again. And the words would mean more then, because he would be able to say them, and you would hear them, and everything would be alright.

Tech believed in the infinite possibilities of the universe, and this was his.

This was his, and so he would wait, and he would remember, and he would know that the words were true, and someday, he would say them to you again.

Every day, Tech waited for a signal.

And every day, there was nothing.

His patience began to wane, and every time the Marauder made a stop, he would search the area for a sign, a clue, anything that would lead him to you. But he never found anything, and he would have to go back to the ship empty-handed.

His recordings to you were becoming short, and less frequent. He couldn't hide the bitterness and disappointment from his voice, and so he recorded fewer messages.

He didn't know why you hadn't contacted him. Maybe it was because you didn't want to.

But no. You loved him.

He didn't want to consider the alternative.

You loved him. You wouldn't have left him.

Would you?

He didn't know, and that scared him.

What if you didn't want to see him? What if you had found someone else?

What if you had realized that you were better off without him?

No.

You loved him. You would never leave him. Not forever.

And yet, he was beginning to wonder.

What if it had been a mistake? What if he had been wrong, and you weren't safe, or alive?

No.

You were alive. You had to be.

And yet, as the days wore on, he found himself doubting.

The distance between them was supposed to keep her safe, but maybe it wasn't enough. Maybe something had happened. Maybe you had changed your mind.

He tried to reassure himself. You were a capable Jedi, and if anyone could handle themselves in the face of danger, it was you.

But the longer you were gone, the harder it was to convince himself that you were still alive.

It didn't help that he hadn't received a single message since that first one. He'd had no word, no hint of your location, or condition, or state of mind.

It was frustrating, and he hated it.

He hated the waiting, and the uncertainty.

And so, as the months went by, and the number of his messages began to dwindle, his doubt grew. Much had changed in his life in the last months. They’d stopped fighting, stopped running, and had moved on to a new place to call home.

They had moved on, and so had he.

Well, most of him.

Some part of him was still waiting, and some part of him was still looking for a sign, for a message, for anything that would let him know that you were alive.

And, as the months went by, he realized that this wasn't going to change.

So he recorded one final message.

"Hello, Sarad. I know that this will be the last recording I make, as I am unsure when, or if, you will ever return. But I want to assure you that I am doing well, and so are my brothers.

"We are settled on a planet called Pabu, and we are all enjoying the peace and quiet. I know that you would enjoy the atmosphere here, as well. The sunsets are particularly beautiful, and I can't help but wonder if you have seen any yourself."

He paused, his throat constricting slightly.

"I miss you," he said quietly. "But I hope that you are happy, wherever you are. I know that it isn't fair of me to ask, and I don't expect an answer, but I do wish you would tell me.

"Tell me if you are safe. Tell me if you are well. Tell me if you have forgotten me. Please, Sarad, just tell me something. Anything."

He was quiet for a moment, and then shook his head.

"But you won't answer, will you? And you won't tell me. And so I will have to move on. It is the logical thing to do, and I am certain that it will benefit me greatly."

Tech fell silent again. His throat felt dry, and his eyes were burning. He didn't know why, but it was getting hard to breathe.

"I want to apologize," he continued, "for being so impatient. And I want to tell you that I don't blame you, and that I still care for you, and that I understand if you have chosen to forget me. But I want to thank you for the time we spent together. It was an experience unlike any other, and I am grateful for it. I will not forget you, Sarad. I hope that you will not forget me."

Tech's hands were trembling, and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"I hope you are well. And, if we never meet again, I wish you luck. I wish you happiness. And, most of all, I wish you peace."

Tech paused, and then, in a small voice, added:

"I love you."

The last message uploaded to his datapad, and Tech stared down at the file, his heart aching. He could feel the tears beginning to fall, and he wiped them away angrily.

Why was he crying? There was no reason to.

But still, the tears continued, and Tech let them come. He would cry for Sarad, and for the life that he would never have with you. He would cry for the love that he had lost, and the pain that he had endured, and the hope that had slowly died inside him.

And, when his tears were spent, he would close the file, and he would put his emotions aside, and he would move on.

He would have to.

Because that was the logical thing to do.

Tech looked up, and the stars were blurred by the tears. He blinked, and the image cleared.

He would have to move on.

He would have to, but not yet.

His finger hovered over the message, and then he pressed delete.

The file disappeared, and Tech watched the screen for a moment, the only sound the beating of his own heart.

He would have to move on, but not yet.

Not tonight.

Not while the sky was so full of stars. Not while the night was so quiet, and the wind so gentle, and the grass so soft beneath his feet.

Not while the memories were so clear.

Tech leaned back against the cool metal of the ship, his eyes fixed on the stars, and he let his thoughts drift.

He remembered the way you had looked at him, and the way you had touched him, and the way you had loved him. He remembered the way your hair had shone in the starlight, and the way your hands had felt against his skin. He remembered the way your lips had tasted, and the way your arms had held him, and the way your laughter had sounded, so sweet and joyful and free.

And he remembered the way the moonlight had danced across your features, and the way the breeze had ruffled your hair, and the way your smile had made him feel alive.

Tech closed his eyes, and let the memories wash over him.

And for a moment, just one brief, shining moment, the darkness was filled with starlight.

The day started like any other.

Tech woke up at the same time, dressed, and made his way to the kitchen, where Hunter was already making breakfast. He sat down at the table, and began scrolling through the daily news on his datapad, searching for anything of interest.

"Anything interesting happen yesterday?" Hunter asked, placing a plate of food in front of him.

"Not much," Tech replied, taking a bite of his breakfast. "A few minor scuffles, and a large cargo transport crash. It seems that the pilot was intoxicated, and he managed to take out half a block."

"Sounds fun," Hunter replied dryly. "Anything else?"

"Just the usual," Tech replied.

Hunter hummed in acknowledgement, and then asked, "How about last night? Did you stay up late recording more of those messages?"

Tech hesitated. He hadn't told Hunter about the messages, or any of his brothers. He assumed they knew, but they couldn’t know their purpose, and so he had kept the messages private.

"Yes," he finally answered. "I did."

"How many do you have now?"

"A few," Tech answered, his tone noncommittal.

"How many is a few?"

"Several."

"Dozens?"

"Yes." He twisted his mouth. “Hundreds.”

"Have you ever thought about sharing them?"

"No," Tech answered immediately.

"Why not?"

"Because they're private," Tech replied, his voice a little sharper than intended. “Because they're for her, and only her."

Hunter sighed, and Tech could feel the disappointment in the sound. He knew that his brother didn't understand his actions, but Tech didn't need him to. He knew what he was doing.

"You're still waiting, then."

"Yes."

"Tech, it's been over a year," Hunter said quietly. "She's gone."

"She's not gone," Tech replied, his grip on his fork tightening.

"Tech," Hunter repeated, his voice firmer.

His fork clattered against the plate, and Tech pushed his chair back, standing up.

"She's not dead," he snapped, his hand curling into a fist. "She's alive. She has to be."

"Tech, please," Hunter pleaded. "Don't go. I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need your help," Tech shot back. "And I don't need you to tell me what to do. So, if you'll excuse me, I have a message to record."

He rounded the table, brushing past his brother. But as he did, Hunter reached out and caught his arm. Tech glared at him, but Hunter didn't flinch. He just looked at him, and Tech felt his anger falter.

"Vod," Hunter said, his voice low. "Please. She's not coming back. And these recordings are just going to make things worse. "I know it's hard, but you have to let her go."

"I will," Tech replied. "But not today."

"Tech..."

"No," Tech cut him off. He pulled his arm from Hunter's grip and straightened his shoulders. "I won't do it."

"Tech, please," Hunter said. "I just want you to be happy."

"I will," Tech replied, his voice tight. "But not today."

"Alright, Tech." Hunter sighed and stepped back, his hand falling to his side. "Alright. Not today."

"Thank you," he managed. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I will see you at dinner, I assume."

"Of course," Hunter replied, his voice equally quiet.

Tech left the kitchen and made his way back to his room, ignoring the stares of Wrecker and Omega as he passed. He was sure they would ask Hunter about his outburst, and he was sure that Hunter would tell them. He didn't care. Let them talk. They didn't know anything.

He knew that they thought he was delusional. That he was clinging to false hope. That he was denying reality. And maybe they were right. But he couldn't stop. He couldn't just give up. Not when there was a chance, no matter how small, that he would see you again. And until that chance was gone, he would continue to wait.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Tech dropped onto his bed, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His leg bounced restlessly at his side, and he could feel his pulse pounding in his ears.

It was too loud, too bright, too much.

He needed to calm down. He needed to focus.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He focused on his breathing, on the sound of his heartbeat, on the feeling of the sheets beneath his fingers. You had helped him practice this exercise before, and he could remember the way you had guided him, your voice soft and gentle as you sat next to him on the floor of the cockpit.

Tech inhaled deeply, and then exhaled, slowly, letting his breath out in a long, steady stream. The sound of his breathing filled the room, and he felt himself relax. He continued the exercise, repeating the motions until his heart rate had slowed, and his breathing had evened out

He could still feel the anger, but it was lessening. He could still hear the voices of his brothers, but they were becoming muffled. He could still see the sunlight filtering through the window, but the glare was beginning to fade.

He breathed, and the world around him settled. He felt drained, and he lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

He was supposed to see you again. You were supposed to be happy. You were supposed to be safe.

You weren't supposed to be gone.

Tech didn't move for a long time, and when he finally did, it was only to get up and check his datapad. He had no new messages, and so he placed it on the nightstand and turned away.

The day dragged on, and Tech did his best to keep himself occupied. He tinkered with his new projects, cleaned the kitchen, and reorganized his storage of supplies. He didn’t speak at dinner, and no one commented. By the time evening rolled around, he was exhausted, and he found himself back in his room, alone with his thoughts.

He didn't know what to do, and so he sat on his bed, the datapad in his hands, and waited.

The day had been uneventful, and the hours had passed slowly. The sun had set, and the stars had come out, and still, he had no answers.

It was late now, and he was tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he knew he wouldn't be able to. Not with the anger and frustration and hurt gnawing at his heart.

He didn't know why he was feeling this way, and it only made him angrier.

He wanted answers, but there were none.

There were no messages, no clues, no sign of you.

Just the stars, and the darkness, and the silence.

Tech sighed, and placed the datapad on the nightstand once more. He resigned himself to another sleepless night, and was about to turn out his light when a hard knock pounded on his door.

Tech jolted upright, his heart leaping in his chest. He hadn't expected anyone, and for a moment, he could only sit there, his mind racing.

The door swung open, and Wrecker came barreling in. The force of the door hitting the wall sent a shower of dust raining down from the ceiling, and Tech held his breath as he saw Sarad's clay flower teeter on its perch.

"Tech!" Wrecker bellowed.

"Wrecker, keep it down," Tech hissed, leaping forward to steady the flower. "The others are asleep."

“You need to come outside. Now."

"What?" Tech turned, the flower in his hands. "Why?"

"Just come," Wrecker replied.

"Fine," Tech sighed, carefully placing the flower back on the shelf. As soon as it was back in its place, Wrecker wrapped a hand around his arm and dragged him from the room.

"Wrecker," Tech protested. "Let me go."

"Sorry, can't do that," Wrecker replied, practically shoving him down the hall.

They were nearly at the front door when Hunter and Omega appeared, their eyes wide and hair messy.

"What's going on?" Tech asked, trying and failing to pry his brother's hand off his arm.

"Echo just landed," Hunter replied. "He says there's something we need to see."

Tech’s brow furrowed in confusion. They hadn’t been expecting Echo to return for several weeks, and he had no idea what could be so urgent.

"What is it?"

"He wouldn't say," Hunter replied. "But he sounded pretty shaken."

Tech felt a twinge of worry. Echo wasn't the type to overreact, and if he was acting strangely, there was probably a good reason.

"Then we should hurry," Tech said, his voice tense.

"Right," Hunter replied. "Come on."

They followed Hunter out the door, and up the path that led to the landing pad. They didn't speak, and Tech was glad. He didn't think he would be able to carry a conversation right now. The village was dark, and the streets were empty. The only sound was the echo of their footsteps as they hurried along.

Finally, they reached the landing pad, and Tech saw the outline of the Remora in the distance, its lights glowing softly.

As they approached, Echo strode down the ramp, his face drawn and pale.

"Hey," Hunter said, his voice worried. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Echo replied, his voice shaky. "I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Echo said, his voice trembling slightly. "But I think you should see this."

He gestured to the ship, and Tech and his brothers stepped forward, following Echo up the ramp.

The inside of the Remora was dimly lit, and Tech squinted, trying to make out the details. As his eyes adjusted, he realized that there was someone sitting in the navigator's chair.

"Echo, what—“

His question died in his throat as the figure turned around, and Tech felt the world tilt beneath his feet.

It was you.

You were here.

You were alive.

Your name came out as a strangled cry, and he stumbled towards you, his heart hammering in his chest. He could hear his brothers calling out behind him, their voices distant and muted. He barely registered their words, or their presence, or anything other than the sight of you in front of him.

You were real.

"Sarad," he breathed.

Your lips curled into a smile, and you reached out, your hand resting gently on his cheek. Your touch was warm, and soft, and familiar, and he felt the tears spring to his eyes.

"My love," you whispered, and he closed his eyes, allowing the sound of your voice to wash over him. It was music, and joy, and home, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

"Sarad," he murmured, leaning into your touch.

"I'm here," you replied softly. He felt the tears spilling over, and you wiped them away gently.

"You're here," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion.

"Tech." You said his name like a prayer, and he opened his eyes, gazing at you. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

He didn't reply. Instead, he closed the distance between you, and his arms were around you before he even realized what he was doing. He pulled you to him, his grip tightening as he felt the solid warmth of your body. You were here. You were real.

"You're here," he breathed, his voice muffled by your shoulder. "You're alive."

"Yes." Your voice shook, and your arms tightened around him. "I'm here. I'm alive."

He held you for a moment longer, and then drew back, his hands cupping your face. He studied your features, taking in the sight of you. You looked tired, but there was no mistaking the warmth and affection in your gaze.

“You changed your hair," he said, running a hand through the short strands. The words came out hoarse and broken, and he swallowed thickly, trying to regain control.

"Yeah," you murmured, your fingers curling around his wrist.

"It suits you," he said. He was having a hard time forming complete sentences. He wanted to say so many things, but the words were stuck in his throat.

You laughed, the sound weak and breathless, but it was a laugh, and Tech found himself smiling.

"Tech, I'm sorry," you said, your voice shaking. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know how to contact you. I couldn't—“

"It's alright," Tech said, his voice quiet. "It's okay. You're here now."

"I missed you," you said, tears welling in your eyes.

"I missed you too," he replied, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “I can't believe you're here. I didn't think—"

He broke off, his voice faltering.

"You're really here," he whispered.

"Yes," you replied, your hand curling around his.

"I was so afraid," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "I thought...I thought I'd lost you."

"I'm sorry," you murmured, pressing a kiss to his palm. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't care," Tech said, his voice steadying. "I don't care about the past. All that matters is that you're here. You're alive. You're home."

"Home," you repeated, your eyes meeting his. "That sounds nice."

He kissed you then, and he felt your arms wrap around him, pulling him close. He poured every ounce of love and longing and joy into the kiss, and when you finally drew back, both of you were breathless.

"I love you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

"I didn't say it enough." Tech's voice was thick with emotion.

"That's okay," you said, a smile spreading across your lips. "I knew."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I should have said it. Every day."

"You can start now," you said, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek.

"I love you," he breathed. "So much."

"I love you, too," you said, tears welling in your eyes.

Tech drew you into another kiss, and this one was softer, more tender. It was a promise, and a vow, and a declaration of love, and when he pulled back, he felt his breath catch in his throat. Your eyes were bright with tears, and your lips were trembling, but you were alive. You were here, and you were safe. And he loved you so much, it was like a physical ache.

"Don't cry," he murmured, brushing them away.

"I'm sorry," you laughed weakly. "I just can't believe it. I never thought...I'm just so happy. So, so happy."

"I am too," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "So happy. And I have so much to tell you. So much has happened. But...there is time for that later. For now, I just want to be here. With you."

"Yes," you whispered. "I'd like that."

You leaned in, resting your head against his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. And, as you clung to him, and the tears began to fall, Tech couldn’t help but be grateful for the infinite possibilities of the universe, and the chance it had given him to be with you again.

Taglist: @covert1ntrovert @bruh-myguy-what @spicy-clones @arctrooper69 @qvnthesia @heidnspeak @Kindalonleystars @totallyunidentified @baddest-batchers @cw80831 @lovelytech9902

#tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #the bad batch #tbb tech #clone x reader #the bad batch x reader #the clone wars #roy writes #i think i got everyone on the taglist this time #but if i didnt pls fill out my new form on my masterlist #i wasnt sure if some of you only wanted to be tagged for the cross fic or all of them

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intheupside · 7 months

Text

Funny moment this morning in the locker room. I went up to Sidney Crosby to ask him about something one-on-one, and before I got the question out he cracked a smile and said, "Are you going to ask me about not scoring?"

Crosby has four assists in his last nine games and hasn't scored a goal since Feb. 25 in the Penguins'7-6 win over the Flyers.

I said no, I had something else I wanted to ask him about. We had that conversation, then when I was done I said, "See! No not scoring questions." He threw his arms in the air and said, "No, I need it!"

So, I asked Crosby about not scoring.

"Yeah, I think you just keep working hard for chances," he said with a grin. "Go to the blue paint and trust when you get the chances it'll go in. That's all it takes, I think."

I told Crosby I'd reuse that quote in my story tonight about him snapping the streak. He appreciated that.

from dkpitt

#pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby

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cyyfics · 1 year

Text

————————-

Guilty Desperation

Pairing: !Simon Petrikov x GN! Reader

Warning: NSFW! At the end.

Synopsis: Simon, disheveled and manic calls you on the phone asking if he can come over to talk. You didn’t think it would end like this, but you aren’t complaining!

Pronoun stuff: mainly GN, I think the nsfw part is ALSO pretty good at being GN?? If not Lemme know

Note: also guys if I ever reuse the same gif just ignore that cuz there’s not a lot (•__•)

————————

SFW part

You were doing your normal everyday things, sitting around at your kitchen island sipping from the mug in your hand when you suddenly got a phone call. It wasn’t exactly a good time to be getting a phone call, it was early in the morning and not even the roosters were awake. In fact, despite being morning, it was still eerily dark and chilling outside. You wouldn’t wanna be out at this time of night, that’s for sure.

You picked up your phone hesitantly, eyes scrunched as you tried to figure out who’d be calling you at this late hour and to no one’s surprise, it was Simon Petrikov. You had adapted this lovely friendship with this man for a couple months now, you’d maybe even go as far as to say that the two of you are best friends. “simon? what’re you doing up this late, and why’re you calling me?” your tone didn’t show much concern for the poor man at first.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, I know it’s late.”

You can hear him let out a deep sigh before talking again “do you think I could come over to see you? i- i don’t feel so good r’ now.” he slightly slurred on his words as he spoke on the phone, on most days you’d have thought it was from the drinking but on the phone today it sounded more like he was just tired.

“Sure, whatever you need. I don’t mind.”

You said that as if you weren’t secretly hoping when he had called you that he wanted to come and see you, you didn’t wanna admit to yourself that you liked that man than you wanted to, but it wasn’t hard to see especially with the way you cheered silently after accepting his request.

“Thanks Y/n, just ‘need to see you.” Simon can be heard rustling around a little, and you thought maybe he was walking somewhere. “How long will you be? Should I come get you?” You were a bit worried for him at this time of night, especially with the light fog in the air outside. “I’ll be fine, should only be about a minute or two.” He said to you before you heard a little more rustling.

“Simon, you live maybe thirty minutes away from me. How do you expect to be here that quickly?” You jokingly asked him, twirling a piece of hair around your finger. You didn’t expect the answer you got. “… started walking early, was just hoping you’d be awake.” It had definitely surprised you, you furrowed your eyebrows as you spoke into your phone.

“..really?” You asked with slight disbelief, “yes.. what’s so hard to believe about that?” Simon asked from the other end of the phone “but what if I wasn’t awake??” You questioned the poor man “would’ve waited ‘til you woke up.” Simon answered back. Then he hung up. You were about to call him back and asked why he did that before hearing a knock at your door.

You swung the door open and was met with Simon, the old man looking disheveled and worn out. You took him inside, helping him through the door way as he stumbled a little. “Simon, what’s wrong? You drink too much or something?” You asked him, hands worriedly grasped onto his shoulders. “Didn’t even touch a drop tonight, Y/n, had too much to think about.”

Simon walked past you, making his way to flip onto your couch, face pressed against the cushions. “What’s wrong? Clearly something is up.” You stood by the doorway, crossing your arms and giving the man a certain concerned look. “It’s just- Betty.” Simon let out a huff, he had often came over venting about missing her and stuff so it wasn’t new information for you.

“I understand, you miss her-“ you came up to him to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but he placed a hand on your wrist to halt you for a moment- before letting you. “It- it’s not that.” He lets out a deep sigh before holding onto his head “that’s the thing. It’s not that.” He sounded upset, you were worried for him.

You sat beside him on the couch as he sat up, slowly placing your head on his shoulder to hopefully provide some comfort. “Talk to me.” You encouraged him, moving your hand down to grab at his hand. Squeezing it slightly to comfort him, he sighed before reluctantly giving in and curling his fingers to intertwine with yours.

“I just- I think- no. I know. I like someone else now, but I feel guilty because of Betty.” Simon didn’t like admitting it at all, and you couldn’t blame him one bit. You frowned before wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Simon didn’t hug you back, but he found comfort in your warmth, resting his head on your shoulder as you hugged him.

“Who-“ he cut you off.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Always been you.” Simon’s voice grew quiet at the end there and it sounded like he was about to cry. You used one of your arms to move up and pet his head with your hand, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I like you too.” You whispered back to him, the air suddenly becoming stagnant.

There was a pause in time as he slowly lifted his head up to look at you, his eyes searching you for any sign of doubt. Like maybe you were just saying that to make him feel better. But he didn’t find any, instead he found you looking at him with eyes full of such love and admiration for him. How had he not seen that look before?

Simon moved his hands up to clutch at your shoulders, pulling you into a hug against him. “I wanna be yours, Simon.” You didn’t wanna say it but you couldn’t help it as it left your mouth, “I do too. But- Betty.” Simon looked to the side as he thought about her guiltily. “Simon, I understand. And you don’t have to rush into anything-“ he cut you off yet again.

“And what if I want to? What if I wanna rush into things with you? Do everything I’ve ever wanted to with you? Take you places, live a whole life with you-“ Simon found himself rambling as he held onto you a little tighter, before softening a little and melting into your arms.

You held him a little closer, “you don’t have to feel guilty Simon, but if you need time..” you started to say “that’s the thing. I don’t have enough time in the world to be without you, I feel so guilty but time and life are constantly fleeting- I wanna be together with you.” Simon started to get teary eyed.

“I want that too.” You spoke up “then say yes. Say you’ll be with me, please.” Simon grabbed at your face gently, making you look up at him. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be together with you.” You couldn’t even control yourself, earlier that day you were fighting your own feelings for him, and now you were literally dating him.

NSFW STARTS NOW

NSFW warnings: humping/rutting idk, I think that’s all that has to go here??

Simon and you looked at each other for a moment, feeling the static in the air. It was like something just sparked in the two of you. Simon leaned down and kissed you, his lips pressed up against yours. They felt slightly chapped, like maybe they’d gotten dry from the cold outside or something.

As he was about to pull away you found yourself grabbing onto his collar, pulling him right back to your lips. Simon was surprised but leaned into your very eager touch, his lips up against yours again. The two of you began to then switch up the intensity, kissing him life your life depended on it. Your hands moved from his collar to tangle in his hair, ripping a soft groan from Simon as the two of you kissed.

Not long after that action, you had felt something uncomfortable pressing up against your hip, you didn’t wanna pull away from the kiss so all you did was slip your hand down to figure out what it was. Simon let out a quiet moan as your hand had evidently brushed over his crotch, so that’s what was rubbing up against you.

Simon desperately pulled you back in for another kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips as his hips rutted slowly against your hand looking for some friction. You didn’t mind giving it to him but at that point you wanted some too, moving your hand away so you could then press yourself up against his hardened crotch.

Your clothed front rubbed up against his, stimulating both of you guys at the same time. It felt messy, it felt hot and slightly uncomfortable, the two of you felt just like silly hormonal teenagers in that moment. Neither of you could stop, desperate hands clinging to each other.

Simons hand grabbed at your waist, pulling you closer as his length rubbed against your sensitive crotch. You were both moaning, kissing each other deeply, not caring about the messiness the two of you were making from the saliva all over each of your mouths and chins.

Eventually Simon ended up cumming first, but his eager self didn’t stop. It felt overstimulating for him but he still wanted to make you feel good too, and not long after you ended up falling apart in his arms too. You let out a soft cry as you came in your pants, the both of you having made an annoying mess. “Damn, now my pants are soiled..” Simon hissed out, hands on his hips as he inspected his now soaked through pants.

“Then take them off.”

#fionna and cake smut #fionna and cake x reader smut #fionna and cake x reader #fionna and cake #simon petrikov smut #simon petrikov x reader smut #simon petrikov x reader #simon petrikov #adventure time smut #adventure time x reader smut

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galedekarios · 9 months

Text

gale's early access dialogue transcripts - part 2 b: the loss scene

in early access, gale had two additional major scenes in act i: the deer stew scene and the loss scene, both of which would happen during a long rest at camp.

the scenes in early access usually happened in this order:

-1: first night long rest scene (still in the final game) -2: mirror image scene (still in the final game) -3: deer stew scene (cut content / partially reused in act i) -4: weave scene (still in the final game) -5: loss scene (cut content) -6: tiefling party scene (ea version cut / partially reused in act ii last night alive scene)

you can watch the entire scene here. below you'll find the transcript of the scene itself as well as some additional info / context.

the loss scene revealed more about gale's life before the game, his abilities as a chosen of mystra and as an archwizard, as well as his status and his relationship with mystra. sadly, it was cut and only seems to have survived as (as of now) obsolete code:

at a long rest, gale would have a ! and stand by the fire, trying and failing to cast a spell:

Gale: [Fails to cast a spell] Gale: Khat-Tsjin Deth-Thra! Protag: [Wizard]: That was a failed spell if ever I heard one. Gale: Failure. You'd think I'd be used to it by now. It’s getting late. I think I'll turn in. Perhaps some sleep will do me good. - Protag [Option 1]: You don't sound very happy there, Gale. Gale: Happiness is like a stray cat; sometimes it seeks you out, sometimes it ignores you. Tonight, I'm ignored. It's getting late. I think I'll turn in. Perhaps some sleep will do me good. - Protag [Option 2]: Is something wrong? Gale: Let's just say not all is right. But that goes for all of us. - Protag [Option 3]: Do you mind? I’d like some peace and quiet Gale: Quiet you can have – peace I can’t guarantee. Especially not peace of mind.

Protag [Wizard]: I didn't recognize your hand gestures. What spell were you trying to cast? Gale: A bygone spell from a bygone age. It doesn't matter. - Protag [Option 1]: They say you should never go to bed angry Gale: Isn’t that advice for couples? The only one I’m angry with is myself. Please – just let it rest. - Protag [Option 2]: Ever the mystery man, aren’t you? Gale: I simply have a lot on my mind. - Protag [Option 3]: Suit yourself. Goodnight. Gale: Goodnight.

Protag [Option 1]: [if Protag intiated Gale's romance during the Weave scene] Come, you know I care about you. I showed you when we shared that spell. Gale: So you did. Very well. -> See below - Protag [Option 2]: [Insight] We shared the Weave the other night. Now share what's on your mind. Gale: [Failure] Tonight's not a night for sharing. Tonight's a night for regrets. With that I bid you an evening better than my own. Gale: [Success] -> See below - Protag [Option 1]: [Persuasion] I’m the leader of this party. I need to know what’s going on. Gale: [Success]: Very well. Just now, I was trying to cast a spell I once cast with ease, but I failed. You see, this fire – there was a time that I could make it come alive. That it would take the shape of a dragon and roar in delight. There was a time I could silence a Beholder with a word, and lift a tower from its foundations with a flourish. There was a time I was all but one with the Weave. But no more – a mere shadow of the wizard I used to be. Why? Because I’ve lost. Gale [Failure] You're the leader and I will follow you where you go, not down the path of my own regrets. With that I bid you good night. - Protag [Option 2]: [Intimidation] You will tell me, and you’ll tell me now. Gale: [Failure] I said ‘please’, but that courtesy was a mere formality. What I meant was; you will let it rest. With that I bid you an evening better than my own. Gale: [Success]: Very well. -> See above

Protag [Option 1]: I don’t understand. What is it that you’ve lost? Gale: I’ve lost… - Protag [Option 2]: Who are you? Gale: I am the man who came after – after having lost... - Protag [Option 3]: If this is meant to be suspenseful, I assure you it’s not. Gale: You don’t understand! I’ve lost… - Protag [Option 4]: It’s all right, you don’t have to tell me. Gale: Thank you. You’re a good friend. I want you to know that - Protag [Option 5]: [Persuasion]: You can tell me. You can trust me. Gale [Failure]: Trust is not the issue. The issue is that the truth doesn’t matter. Secret or revealed, the outcome is the same. Gale [Success]: I’ve lost Mystra. I sought to impress her personally. To turn the eye of my muse upon me. To win the favour of a goddess. But I failed, and all I invoked was death and dismissal. My death. Her dismissal. - Protag [Option 6]: [Insight] Go on. Every burden is easier to carry when shared. Gale [Failure]: I’m strong enough. I’ll carry on alone. With that I bid you an evening better than my own. (Die/Dice Roll Fail) Gale: [Sucess] An apt enough observation. I've... lost... Mystra. I sought to impress her personally. - Protag [Cleric of Mystra]: I'm sorry. I cannot begin to understand being abandoned by the goddess. Gale: Thank you. You're a good friend. I often think of that moment we shared- - Protag [Cleric of Mystra]: When devotion is blind, the goddess loses sight of you. Rightly too. Gale: You pray to the goddess for every spell and every blessing. You devote your life to her – are we truly so different? Then again, if that is how you judge me, there’s little I can do to change your mind. But know that I have this ambition still. First to save myself, and after that, the licence to dream.

Protag [Option 1]: I’m sorry for you. Protag [Option 2]: I don't know what to make of what you've told me, but I sympathise. Gale: Thank you. You’re a good friend. Gale: [Weave scene wasn't romantic] I want you to know that. I consider myself very lucky to have found you. -> Protag can initiate alternate romance route here -> See below - Gale: [Weave scene was romantic] I often think of that moment we shared together – one under the Weave. I hope you think about it too. / I'm glad to know you think about it too. [end] - Protag [Option 3]: Another fool pays for his arrogance. A tale as old as time. Gale: Arrogance? Ambition, rather. And ambition is a fine thing – until suddenly it no longer is. Then again, if that is how you judge me, there’s little I can do to change your mind. But know that I have this ambition still. First to save myself, and after that, the licence to dream. [end]

the loss scene also offered another way to initiate gale's romance:

Narrator: *You sense a moment of unspoken affection. You want to know where it may lead.* Gale: I consider myself very lucky to have found you. Protag [Option 1]: I think perhaps we could be more than friends. Gale: Perhaps. - Protag [Option 2]: I consider myself lucky too Gale: Good. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. / And try not to think too poorly of me. A cat can look at a king. A wizard can look at a goddess. - Protag [Option 3]: Don’t get carried away imagining feelings that aren’t there. Gale: I see. Say no more. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. - Protag [Option 4]: You are a good friend too, Gale. Gale: Hold on to that thought. I may just have to remind you before all is said and done. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. - Protag [Option 5]: Lets not get sentimental, shall we? Gale: Fair enough. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding.

after the loss scene ended, the player-initiated dialogue had several options following it: you were able to initiate the romance on gale's perhaps, you could address the fact that he mentioned that he thinks about the weave scene with the player still, and lastly, you were able to ask how he can still cast if he had lost mystra's favour so.

if you picked the "I think perhaps we could be more than friends." option during the loss scene, you could talk about what exactly he meant with gale after by intiating a conversation with him again:

Protag: When I said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps.' What does that really mean? Gale: If I recall correctly, the Waterdhavian Dictionary of the Common Tongue of Faerun defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. Sorry, sometimes I can't help but being quite insufferable. Gale: In seriousness, I’m glad you asked that question. Gale: You see, I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes we embrace. You are on such event, that soon, I would like to embrace.

you could also follow up with him on the mention of him thinking about the weave scene still:

Protag: You said you think about the moment we shared under the weave. Do you think about it often? Gale: Do you? - Protag [Option 1]: Yes. Gale: So do I. You see. I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. You're one such event that one day soon perhaps I'd like to embrace. - Protag [Option 2]: From time to time. Gale: So do I. You see. I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. You're one such event that one day soon perhaps I'd like to embrace. - Protag [Option 3]: Not really. Gale: And yet you ask. I do, as a matter of fact.

the follow up for the loss scene would also include this dialogue:

Protag: There's one thing, I don't understand. If Mystra abandoned you, how can you still cast magic? Gale: The Weave is still here. All around us. Inside of us, too. As long as the goddess lives, magic is still a tangible thing for those who know how to touch. I've studied magic for many years and in as many ways, I'm still a more than capable wizard. Gale: It's just that I'm no longer able to perform those feats even archwizards would marvel at. To have one hand at the pulse of divinity. You have to remember that the Weave is a living thing. Both the embodiment and the extension of Mystra herself. Gale: She can give and she can take away. I'm afraid I'm still very much on her naughty list.

anyhow, this wraps the loss scene up.

overall, i'm extremely sad this was cut. i think with minor adjustments this scene would have worked not only to combat the scene disparity amongst the companions, but it also would have fleshed out gale's backstory and character even more!

i hope this was helpful to some of you!

coming up next:

-part 1: the three tadpole dreams -> completed -part 2: major cut scenes: the deer stew scene & the loss scene -> completed -part 3: minor cut scenes: abandoned temple of jergal, failed to save arabella, talking to the paladins of tyr and agreeing to go after karlach, edowin and the tadpole reveal, mayrina giving ethel's wand to her or breaking it, handing astarion over to the gur or defending him, reaching the druid grove, killing lae'zel, reaching the goblin camp & looking for halsin, killing the druids, priestess gut & the brand & the cult of the absolute, dror ragzlin and talking to the dead mind flayer, ogre couple, necromancy of thay, ethel, zhentarim chest, myconid colony -part 4: gale's condition & the way it was treated in early access

taglist: @chainsawmascara, @randomfanner, @tacogoats, @khajiit-necromancer, @gwinharper, @galesenchantedpanties, @swampfaerie, @ardently-queer, @nirraein, @gale-enjoyer, @xiv-wolfram, @kairoswouldnever, @a-psychopathic-dream, @toboldlydammitjim

i thought i'd tag the people i'd seen taking an interest in my original post! if you want to be taken off the taglist, or added, please let me know!

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #tav x gale #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #series: eadialogue

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stormyelliotwritez · 5 days

Note

fic where ftm reader is logan’s gay (re)awakening when he sees r in his 2000 pickup truck blasting old rock in his flannel and jeans and logan just heart eyes and needs to be with this man Immediately.

(i say reawakening bc lets be real hes like 200 he mightve already realized hes a 🚬 before but needed like. a reminder)

AAAAAAHHHHHH literally my fav trope ever - i did a similar one to this btw called logan and his hot guy friend - also i made reader a handyman type guy coz funsies

He may be a bit ooc but i ain’t sure

i need to get more photos coz i keep reusing them

Old rock and a 2000’s pickup truck? 😍

It had been a long long day and Logan was walking home from the job he’d gotten after all that multiverse shit when a 2000’s pickup truck parked at the lights. He walked up next to it and raised an eyebrow as he heard the music. It was old rock or dad rock as Wade would say. He walked past the window and saw you. You were wearing a red flannel and faded blue jeans. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to like a guy.

He wandered home in a daze, only thinking about you in that pick up truck. Wade asked him if something was wrong and he couldn’t even answer. He just mumbled a no and then grabbed a beer. You looked so good in that flannel. He only saw you for a moment but you were his type alright.

A few days later, he took the same route home, hoping he’d see you and he did. You were parked this time with tools in the backseat. Against his better judgement, he walked up to your window and tapped on it. And against your better judgement, you rolled the window down and smiled at him.

“Your truck is a beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, I fixed her up myself,” you said back before patting the dashboard lovingly.

Logan took a glance at the tools in the back of your truck and chuckled to himself. “You a handyman?”

You nodded. “Guilty as charged. You needing something fixed?”

He chuckled. “Well now that I think of it, we’ve had a dodgy tap recently, my roommate and I.”

You chuckled and nodded. “I could drop by and see if it’s an easy fix?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, bub. We just live in the top apartment at the building with the blue door just over there so feel free to drop by whenever.”

You nodded and smiled again. “Well I gotta be off. I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

Logan smiled and waved as you drove off. He pumped his fist in the air, mimicking Wade, and grinned. Hell yeah, he was gonna get to see you again.

He walked back to the apartment and this time, he grabbed a beer and joined Wade on the couch. “You gotta skedaddle tomorrow so go work or something,” was all he said to Wade before the soccer game started.

The next day, Logan stayed home and made sure Wade was out the door by 8. The clock struck 10 and you knocked on the door like well… clockwork. He quickly opened the door and let you in.

“Hey, you’re here,” he smiled, “wasn’t sure if you’d turn up.”

You smiled and held up your bag. “Well I like getting paid.”

“And I like getting my tap fixed.”

You got to work and soon enough, you’d found the problem. You fixed it and when you stood up, Logan was standing in the doorway. He had a grin on his face and a beer in each hand. You hadn’t noticed how hot he was before but now he was standing there, wearing a white singlet and a brown flannel and looking super duper hot.

“That for me?”

He nodded and handed it over. “For a job well done, bub. And I’ll pay you as well of course.”

The two of you sat down and both had a beer. A bit after Logan finished his, he grabbed the money and handed it over. You stood up and contemplated leaving before turning back to him and chuckling awkwardly.

“You seeing anyone?”

Logan smiled and shook his head. “Thought you’d never ask, bub.”

You sat back down and leaned towards him, a smile on your lips. “Would you want to be seeing someone?”

“Is that someone you because I would love to be seeing you,” he said with a smirk as he leaned towards you.

When you leaned backwards and stretched, your shirt rode up and he saw your binder. He nodded to himself and leaned in a bit closer. “Haven’t dated a guy in a while so you wanna break me in again? We could listen to some rock?”

You chuckled and licked your lips before standing up and pulling your chair to next to him. You sat back down and shamelessly grabbed ahold of his hand and ran your fingers over it. “Absolutely, handsome.”

#im sticking to the writing short stuff coz otherwise it takes me months to get stuff out #stormy writes things #x reader #x m!reader #x male reader #logan howlett x male reader #wolverine x male reader #logan howlett x trans male reader #wolverine x trans male reader #wolverine x ftm!reader #logan howlett x ftm!reader

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chosos-mascara · 11 months

Text

sired

𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙞 𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - levi is just a regular at your coffee shop - until you're bleeding out, with no other option than to see the true beast he is.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - vampire levi x reader, reader is turned, reader is attacked (not by levi), blood, biting, general vampire stuff, make-out, sex, cunnilingus, spit swallowing and swapping

4.5k words, yes i am reusing this photo of him cuz he's pretty

In this life, blood had run through vein to be taken from others.

Of course, there had been the weight of guilt to burden the shoulder of those who'd drank the life from another, though within the rise of an undead plague, they had began to drink it without regard of memories, pain or pleasure.

Levi had done the latter; decades spent underground to prey on those in the shadows, brain riddled with disgusting memories of the past. Erwin had drawn him from this hole and with that, a new life had been birthed. Though, even with a clean slate, ghosts had still remained.

These hauntings of the past had brought Levi to a simple life, one with routine, and control. An example of this would be his morning tea, always taken from the same shop, with his arrival and departure time as precise as each day would allow. Unfortunately, with a difference in this very schedule, Levi had been six hours late to his local coffee shop, seeing a shift change and new faces.

You hadn't met the man before you - you were sure of that. Though, when staring into the grey eyes on the other side of the counter, there had been something so hauntingly familiar - or was he just undeniably mesmerising? There had been an unforgiving and all-encompassing pull toward the stranger; one that had felt both warm and frightening.

"Are you listening?" His voice pulled you from the depths of your daydreams, his face stern and brow furrowed. You cleared your throat, glancing down to your idle finger hovering over the till. "I'm sorry, sir." An apology had left your lips before a shaking breath, though his abrasive tone would cast your words aside. "As I said, an earl grey -" He cut himself short with the shake of his head. "And, for the love of God, make sure the water is boiling."

His narrow lips relaxed into a down-turned expression, eyes mulling you over once, and then twice.

"Did you get that, or do I need to go elsewhere?"

You blink, lips parting before nodding a response. "Y-yeah." Now trembling, your fingers wrap around a white cup, the other hand moving to grasp a maker pen, though stopping short of the cardboard. "What's the name?" "Levi."

Levi had walked toward the collection counter, one arm crossing over the other, his sight set on your clumsy handwriting and uneasy grip. Earl grey, boiling water. You repeated the order to yourself as if a mantra, a tea bag plucked from box, the cup placed beneath the boiler spout. You checked the temperature dial before pouring, allowing the scolding liquid to fill his cup to almost brim, a plastic lid and cardboard sleeve placed over top.

Within a few moments, the tea had been placed on worktop, a pale hand moving to take the drink to palm.

He didn't thank you before leaving, though with his previous demeanour, you hadn't expected him to.

When Levi had returned days later with the same request, your heart began to beat slightly faster, excitement in vein. The bell had chimed, your eyes moving from the tray of cakes under glass to greet your new customer - and there he'd stood.

As he made his way toward you, you allowed yourself to wonder if he'd returned due to an appreciation of your brew... though with the same hollow stare and frown over lip, you began to assume this shop was more for convenience than a means for enjoyment.

Just as before, Levi stood with arms crossed and expression cold, and when you'd pushed the cup toward him, he simply turned on heel and left. A sigh escapes you as the weight on your chest suddenly alleviates.

"The weather's nice, isn't it?"

Your attempt at small talk felt miserable, and with his grey eyes withdrawing from yours to land over countertop, you had mentally slapped yourself. This would be another memory to plague your mind, with another sorry attempt at talking to an attractive customer.

His brow furrows as he looks to be in thought, before he finally speaks.

"I don't like the heat."

Your jaw slackens. For the first time in the past few weeks, the stranger had not just spoken instruction under a condescending tone, but had instead given a genuine answer to a question you had asked. The corner of Levi's mouth quirked upward at your shocked expression.

Locking up had gone well despite a few customers arriving on the minute of closing, with yourself rushing to clean machine and table. Money was counted, lights switched off, and key placed into lock before you would begin your journey home.

Street lights illuminated your path, your shadow cast beside you as each begrudgingly slow step brings you closer to your destination. Tinny earphones supply you with a soundtrack while your mind replays the images of you jumping into bed after a long day, sheets pulled to shoulder as you would close your eyes to rest.

The last stretch of road before your home drew closer, the concrete growing a little less clean and evened out when approaching your neighbourhood. A path you had ventured many times throughout both day and night, one you were sure you could navigate through a blindfold. You glance over the patches of grass among grey pavement, a few trees standing only slightly taller than yourself. In summer, they would bloom green leaves with wild flowers at their root, though on winter nights like this one, they would only shield the unknown.

A shadow slouches parallel to your path on the other side of the road, one with a presence you wouldn't recognise on first glance, though wouldn't yet alarm you. Seeing another at this time of night wasn't particularly unusual; a busy town on a Thursday evening had some form of nightlife, although when seeing the figure's odd gait, your feet did move slightly faster.

There was a hint of apprehension with your movements, though you had ultimately decided on keeping your gaze straight and arriving home with haste. It wouldn't be too much farther now, though when glancing over shoulder to see the emptiness of the other side of the road, dread filled you to core.

A sudden weight is born over your shoulder, a sharp pain in neck. Although you begin to thrash, a pair of arms hold you still, the sting of what felt to be a bite allows warmth to seep from your body, exhaustion dousing you.

At some point, you are freed enough to allow you to stumble forward, slumping toward pavement. Your hand flies to the wound on your neck, alarm rushing through you upon the realisation you were losing a lot of blood, fingers slipping around the puncture holes to be coated in crimson.

A numbness begins to spread through your body, a coldness enveloping you.

You lay back to the pavement, head turning to side as you try your best to press into the injury in attempts to stop the bleeding, though with your vision turning blurry, you weren't sure how effective your weakening grasp would be. Focusing your altered vision, you can make out two figures before you, one looking to be the same hooded shadow you'd seen across the road, the second having a recognisable silhouette, though you couldn't quite put your finger on where you'd seen that coat before, and the black slacks, perfectly tailored to meet ankle -

You had blinked only once, you'd felt sure of that. But, it looked as if minutes had passed before you, the two figures now separated, one left to only a heap on the floor. There was a presence beside you, and with racing heart, you turned to meet their view.

The stranger looks to be Levi, your crush from the shop, and over the ringing of your ears, it'd sounded a lot like him, too. Just as you'd fallen to unconsciousness, you could've sworn his eyes had changed from grey to red, two canines elongated to look much like the fangs of a vampire.

Heavy lids flutter between that of dream and reality as you stir, harsh pavement feeling much softer than you had remembered. Though as you came to, memory foam supporting your body, you were quick to realise that the warmth engulfing your body had not been that of cement floor, but a bed that hadn't felt much like your own.

With the cloud over your eyes fading, you set your sights on the plain ceiling above, with a slow drift down to the thick sheets draped over your person. Your scent had been the second to last sense to return - the smell of cedarwood and pine.

Your home had been many things, but none of these attributes had felt at all familiar. Not a spec of dust in sight, nor blemish... The only thing that had been certain was your confusion at the current situation, and paired with the jumbled events of the night prior, you had been left to wonder how you had ended up in such room.

And finally, you are graced with the sensation of pain.

Your neck throbbed, a tingling feeling to flow into vein, and perhaps the beginnings of a fever. There was a reluctance in your movements as your hand had made way to the wound, a withdrawal from the spot much before you'd come to cup it. Would the skin be mauled and tattered?

Memories flash before you - thick blood pooling over your neck, the sensation of all life leaving your body. You brace yourself as your fingers finally fly to the injury, though you are left to feel dissatisfied by the bandage covering the skin; a barrier to your true condition. Previous events are farthest from vivid, though in the midst of searching your mind, you find a fragment of certainty - the stranger from the coffee shop. Black hair left to fall over brow, concerned grey eyes turning to resemble that of beast with pointed fangs.

The wound throbbed as you remembered now, that taste of iron within your own mouth. How had that come to be?

As you sit upright, the room spins. Despite this, you allow a single leg to drop to the floor, followed shortly by the other, your weakened arms pushing from mattress to start your investigation. This home's walls had acted as your crutch as you'd moved to leave the bedroom, soon making it through the door, fingers still grazing plaster as you willingly make your way into the unknown.

The corridor is been clean, walls plain in colour with a few paintings mounted proudly. They look to be expensive, though you don't marvel, instead moving closer to an explanation.

"You're up."

The words jolt you to core, eyes widening in both shock and fear as you turn to look over your shoulder, Levi standing a mere few feet from your own trembling body. One glance over his lips cause your throat to constrict, a shallow gasp pushes from chest as you felt to lose your balance, falling down onto the floor.

You remember now, the fear you'd felt with a figure's teeth far into your throat, and how it had felt to have your very life drained from your soul. You saw how Levi had torn your attacker from your being, only to seat himself beside you as you'd felt close to taking your last few breaths - how sporadic they'd been.

He'd taken his own wrist to his mouth, a redness over lips as he'd pulled the appendage away only to force his mouth to yours, a red ambrosia forced over your tongue to douse your throat in burning liquid. You'd screamed against him, you'd thrashed and cried, though within only moments your eyes had felt heavy, the poison suddenly lulling you into security.

Levi despises the look you give him now, the horror and pain twisted in your face. It had been a look he'd seen few times before, though hadn't had to endure in a long while. He hadn't missed the fear he'd caused others.

"I won't hurt you." His arm raises as he takes a step toward your frightened body, voice timid. His hand reaches yours, ice cold skin wrapping over you to offer aid. Calming yourself, you stand.

"You can leave if you want." Your neck thrums as you stare at him, and if not for his sincere expression, you would have tested this offer. He squeezes gently over your fingers, mouth ajar. He knows you remember what he is, and what he'd done. You need an explanation.

"But... shit." Levi's eyes leave yours as he exhales. "There's something you need to know." You raise a brow, chest tightening. "What is it?" Anxiety courses through you as you retract your hand from his, moving it over your bandaged throat.

"The thing that bit you," There's a waver in his voice, and a change in tone. "He took a lot of blood, and you were close to dying." You nod apprehensively. "I had to feed you my own, but it's been a while so I didn't realise..." His eyes close. "You would have died, if I didn't-"

"I'm one of you?" Levi shifts uncomfortably before you, head tipping forward.

"Not just that - tch." He's unable to find another way to put it, but searches his mind in desperation for an answer. The situation pains him in many ways, yet the worst factor had to be the intimacy. Levi had managed to find his way around alone until now, and with this, everything may change.

"We - our kind... We can create bonds with others. One that can link two souls as one, or at least, sire two souls together. It means you can feel another person's presence at all times." At last, he raises his gaze from the floor, looking into your eyes. "You're now tethered to me."

The news sinks in slowly, butterflies within your stomach as you sense the connection he speaks of. There had been some hesitance too, but this had stemmed from the limited understanding of what this label would entail, and what this existence would involve. As you stared at him, you grew used to this sensation - the feeling of his soul. It felt cold and somewhat indistinct, but when you focused your mind to it, it was there.

"I feel different." The phrase resembled more of a whisper than a clear statement, and Levi had shared this uneasiness within himself, too. It hadn't just been this attachment, but your senses had felt heightened, sounds felt louder and colours felt brighter. As you peered over his face, drifting toward his neck, you could sense where his vein had been most open, where you want so desperately to sink your teeth.

"I do, too." Levi searches your eyes to find an answer he wasn't sure he'd find, with a step toward you. "I can feel your very being." As he edges closer, his hand outstretched, his fingers brush over your hair, finally skimming over your cheek.

You stare into him, and for a moment you feel yourself lean forward too, but it's as if reality takes its brittle hold over his heart, and he pulls away. "You need to eat." The statement weighs on you, and as he strides toward another room, you feel your body ache for his touch.

You aren't sure whether or not to follow him when he disappears, so you instead await his return, or further instruction. He reemerges not long after, a glass in hand. Only when he's closer do you notice the thickness of the glass, and the distinct red. It had been blood.

You take a step back, breath in your throat as he pushes the glass toward you. Although you try to fight, he places a hand to the back of your head, rendering you unable to move. The glass rim is forced to your lips, the blood pouring thickly to your tongue, and you have no other choice but to swallow.

It's bitter, and runs like honey down your throat, thick, and heavy. Despite your mental apprehension, your body reacts, gulping back the fluid with heavy eyes. When it's finished, you feel awfully satisfied.

"Was it... human?" Although you hadn't wanted to truly know, there was a need to ask. Relief seeped through you when he shook his head, sighing. "We source animal blood. It gets you through the day, but the hunger isn't satiated for long. You will feel a pull toward humans - you just have to fight the urge."

"What about other beings like us?"

Levi stirs, his expression souring. "It wouldn't quench thirst unless they had drank from a human. It's more of a... sexual act than one of hunger."

The skin of your chest feels hot as you watch his lips form the words, and images of intimacy with Levi plague your mind. You remember the distinctness of the blood he had fed to you fresh from wrist - the twang, and the warmth.

Moments pass by quickly as you move toward him, body acting much faster than the constraints of your mind. Imagery of his blood pooling over your tongue had flashed before your eyes as your lips met with the thick of his neck, face pulled into the crook and elongated teeth brushing the flesh.

Levi could have stopped you, your frame much weaker than his, but he'd held back to allow you a taste. He knew the hunger too well, and paired with the guilt he'd felt for turning you, he would allow you to take more than you should.

But, you pull back sooner than he'd anticipated, skin stained crimson with his blood. He couldn't stop himself from connecting himself with you, not when you'd worn his life so beautifully over your lips.

This kiss wasn't much like the last, with your half conscious state and his frantic attempts at saving you, it hadn't felt much of a meaningful moment. Now, here with you, his body connecting with your own and the taste of his own livelihood on your lips, Levi felt freed. Freed of this lonely existence, and free from the sorrow path he'd aligned himself upon.

His lips were cold, yet soft, slipping between your own to grow closer to you. With the initial movements there had been modesty and restraint, yet as you tasted more of him, passion had ignited.

Levi presses his tongue to yours, hand snaking to hold the back of your head and tilt you to reach deeper limits. He swiped himself over you, roaming your mouth to try his blood mingling with your taste.

As Levi found himself losing control against you, he held on tighter and kissed with more force and roughness - fangs clashing over yours when they find their way to scrape your bottom lip. The sensation pulls a timid hum from your chest and Levi groans in response, hardness pressing uncomfortably against his trouser as your own blood trickles into his mouth.

At some point, you end up against a wall, Levi leaning himself against you with need, unhinged rocks of hip to find friction against your clothed body. Pulling back breathlessly, his hand remains upon your cheek. "I can't control myself around you." His voice is smooth against your ear, lips grazing the skin of your cheek. "You don't have to." Your words are quiet but he hears them clearer than day, humming against you.

He takes a step back to regain composure, and you are left to look to him with doe eyes, a tightness in your chest with burning desire. Silently, Levi takes your hand, leading you back into the room you had awoken in not too long ago, stopping beside the bed. His hand runs from yours to trail over your arm, stopping at your shoulder.

"At least allow me to take you within a bed - I would have fucked you against that wall if you'd have let me."

Heat prickles your body at his words, though cool air soon meets warmth as he undresses you, discarding your clothes with his own over the floor before you're on the mattress beneath him.

Levi found it difficult to restrain himself from marking your skin, instead dragging teeth over neck, or flicking tongue to kiss flesh. Your fingers laced within his hair, gently tugging him back to your lips, kissing him with fervour. Saliva glides from your tongue to his, but he drinks it back as if depraved, intoxicated within your taste. You could feel his frenzied state worsening as he licks and nips over you, a clear need to have you in more ways than one. Blood had been a vampire's hunger, both in ways of food and passion, and you had wanted to play with fire.

"You can..." Your confidence fizzles quickly on tongue as you meet his eye, a new wave of anxiety washing over your body. Red irises stare back at you, though in sensing your unease, they slowly fade back to grey. "You can drink from me." The permission you grant to him is one rooted in edge, your muscles tensing when awaiting his reply.

A puff of air leaves his nose in what feels to be amusement. "You don't know what you're offering." There's a seriousness in his voice, led by his own reluctance. "I know you were thinking about it." A stillness warms the room as the statement leaves you.

He shakes his head, leaning forward to kiss you. This time, the movements are languid, a slow-moving pace to instead take time in roaming the mouth of the other. As fluid had been swapped between each tongue, it grows thicker, and a moan catches within your throat.

Fingertips had breached the hem of your underwear at a point in time you can't quite pin, but you permit the tugging of fabric to drag past your knee, exposing yourself to the cursed being before you. His gaze drops to the bareness before him, a stripe over folds with his fingers. Levi allows his lips to hover over your flesh before he finally lowers himself between thigh, palms spreading you wider to make room for his face. He delves forward, tongue meeting with hardened bud to swirl circles over you.

His name passes your lips, back arching, and Levi rolls his hips over the comforter for some form of relief. As his tongue flicks over you, you are left to whine beneath his touch, hand entrapping your mouth in an attempt to muffle the mews spewing from you. Fingertips brushed your entrance, ring and middle circling the hole before finally teasing in, and you writhe in his sheets. When you roll yourself over his tongue he groans, fingers curving.

"Fuck, don't stop." Panting, you beg his mercy, feeling close to falling over the edge. He scissors his fingers slightly, stretching you as he moves them in and out, and with the way his tongue is moving you're unable to restrain from the high you begin to feel. He adds a third, and you scream out in relief, stuttering hips as you come undone beneath him.

When you come down, he's already on his knees with his cock free, pushing the head against your throbbing clit. "Ever since I saw you in that shitty shop, I've pictured you beneath me." His head is rubbing against your slit to gather the juices left, and a shaky breath leaves your lips. Levi places his fingers on your chin to tilt your mouth open, watching your face contort in confusion.

He spits between your parted lips before closing your lips, edging himself into you while looking within your eye. "Swallow." The command was impossible to defy, so you do as he requests, watching as his lips quirk into a smirk.

Levi forces his length forward, thickness finally nestled within your walls. He rocks himself gently at first, though soon looses himself within you as your chest rises and falls at rapid pace, body welcoming his every inch. Your gaze drops to his fangs, finger reaching toward them in curiosity, allowing your skin to be pierced by the needle like ends. Blood rushes to the small puncture, only a pinprick, though Levi was quick to respond, his tongue darting from lip to taste the crimson offering.

With one taste, he craved more. After the sire bond, your blood had tasted uniquely different, reflecting more of his own. He's unable to stop himself from biting into your wrist, puncturing vein and wrapping his mouth around the source. He groans deeply, eyes rolling upward as he ruts his hips much harsher than he'd done before, allowing himself to indulge within your taste.

When he removes himself from your skin, a single droplet rolls from wrist to elbow - but Levi cannot allow the smallest amount of your nectar to waste, his tongue darting along the length to leave not a stain over your arm.

His cock twitches inside you as your head tilts back in pleasure, legs tightening around him. He can feel himself grow closer to release, though has one last offering to you.

Levi brings his finger to fang, piercing the skin in a similar fashion to your prior display, placing the digit straight to your lip. He smears his blood over your lips, and you too mimic his actions from before, eyes locking with his own as you wrap your lips around his finger, sucking before the pop of your lips releases him.

You pull his face to yours, pushing the mixture of blood and saliva to his mouth. He groans in reply, much deeper than before, thrusts growing messy as he allows your tongue to dance with his. Levi's breaths were sporadic as he came within you, pushing himself as far as he could, squeezing over your flesh as his body ached.

The veil over his eye had began to lift as he laid himself beside you, brain no longer clouded - though he still felt an unusual lull of safety within your presence. He pinned it to the sire bond, soothing him into trusting your soul as it had linked with his own.

If his heart had still beat, he was sure it would feel differently while in your presence, and for the first time in decades, he allows himself to wonder what life would be like if he was still human.

"Earlier, when you told me I could leave," The silence was broken with our voice, still hoarse. "I didn't want to." There was a small dip in your words as you fought with your own understanding of the situation. "Why? Why do I feel this way toward you when you're still a stranger?"

He exhales, staring up at the ceiling. "It's the bond." His words won't offer much insight as he barely understands it himself, though he feels himself needing to comfort you. "I brought you back here to rest, but only when you'd awoken had I realised what had happened."

"How will this work?" Your words are gentle, but the question hangs stagnant in the air.

"I don't know, this is a first for me."

a/n: for some reason, after a break in writing, staying in present tense felt really hard?? please excuse me if i messed up, i feel like this is so inconsistent

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anubisfarm · 4 months

Text

Unethical || Harvey

Synopsis - It's time for your first Pap Smear Test with Doctor Harvey when something unexpected and unethical happens.

Warnings - NSFW.

Word Count - 2.8k.

{Caffeinate Me}

You had been in Pelican Town for just over a year now and during that time you had become increasingly close with the town’s local doctor, Harvey. Throughout the week you would bring his favourite gifts of coffee and pickles into his office, forcing the older man to fall head over heels in love with you relatively quickly. He would never pass up an opportunity to be by your side, whether it was as a friend, or as your doctor. Today though, he was your doctor. It was time for your yearly health check-up and, in fact. Was time for your first Pap Smear Test. Although you knew the examination was necessary to check for potential cancer cells, you were still dreading it. Your friends and family alike had told you that the procedure could be slightly painful and uncomfortable which only added to your already existing anxieties.

As you approached the clinic your heart was thumping so loud against your chest that you swore other villagers passing by could hear it. You stood outside the clinic and took a few deep breaths before entering, only to be greeted with Maru’s friendly face. “Ah! There you are, just in time! Doctor Harvey is waiting for you in his office.”

You offered Maru a weak smile and nodded, “thanks Maru.”

You slumped your way down the hall to Harvey’s office, all while trying to stop yourself from bolting out of the clinic with every step you took. After what felt like an eternity, you reached the door and after another deep breath you knocked. A faint ‘come in’ sounded from the opposite side of the door and you slowly opened it, peering your head around the corner. Harvey was smiling at you already. “Y/N, it’s lovely to see you,” he greeted, motioning for you to enter his office further.

“It’s lovely to see you too Harvey, although I wish the circumstances were different,” you mumbled, stepping further into the room.

Harvey looked at you sympathetically and smiled. “You’re in good hands here Y/N, you’ve nothing to fear.”

“You know hospitals make me nervous,” you said as you sat down in the chair opposite his desk. Immediately you began tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, which didn’t go unnoticed by Harvey.

He typed some notes up on his computer before turning his attention to you once again. “I know it’s easier said than done but please try not to be nervous. I’m here to help you and ensure that everything is fine with your health.”

You trusted Harvey with your life as both your friend and doctor, but still you couldn’t shake the nerves you were feeling about the Pap Smear examination. Your lips pressed into a thin line before you finally managed to stammer out, “w-will it hurt?”

“I’m not going to lie to you Y/N, I’ve heard it can be quite uncomfortable but it will only last a few moments and I’ll do my best to make you as comfortable as possible,” he paused and offered you a reassuring smile. “Now, whenever you’re ready you can step behind that screen there and remove the bottom half of your clothes.”

You looked at the screen a few feet away from his desk and nodded. For a few seconds, your feet reused to move but eventually you stood up from the chair and walked behind the screen. You looked around the small section of the room and noticed there was a hospital bed and next to it, a small station sink with a cabinet underneath it. The hospital bed had been made up for you, a small paper-like blanket had been folded neatly on the bed for you to cover your bottom half up. With a sharp exhale, you tucked your thumbs under the waistband of your trousers and underwear, pulling them down to your ankles in one fell swoop. You stepped out of your trousers and lay yourself down on the bed, grabbing the paper-like blanket to cover what remaining dignity you had left. Finally, after a few seconds of deliberating if this was really worth the embarrassment, you called out to Harvey. “I’m ready.”

Harvey walked behind the screen and pulled a small wheeling cart with him. Once he was behind the screen, he put on a pair of transparent gloves and flexed his fingers. “If you could bend your knees up for me please and put them together.” He sat down at the end of the bed before looking at you. “I’m going to lift this sheet and take a look, okay?” You nodded your head in understanding as your face flushed with embarrassment.

Meanwhile on the other side of the situation, Harvey’s heart was racing. He couldn’t help but feel slightly perverted as he slowly lifted up the sheet, revealing your exposed pussy to him. Harvey couldn’t believe he was actually seeing you, up close and personal. Harvey bit his bottom lip as he inspected your pussy, his mouth practically watering at the sight. When Harvey never spoke, you whispered to him. “Is everything okay?”

He cleared his throat before answering you. “Y-Yeah. Everything is fine.” Then, he stood up and made his way over to the small stationed sink next to the bedside and reached into the cabinet underneath it. “I’m just grabbing some lubricant. It’ll be a lot easier to insert the speculum if you’re… well, lubed up.”

“Speculum?” You asked softly, looking at Harvey as he squeezed some of the transparent, odourless liquid onto his fingers.

“Yes, speculum. That’s the name of this tool I’ll be using today,” Harvey nodded his head towards the wheeling cart and the instrument located on it. He then returned to his place at the end of the bed, between your legs and let out a silent, deep breath. “This might feel a little cold, but it will only last a second.” With that warning, and a nod of your head in understanding, Harvey pressed two fingers against your entrance quickly. A soft gasp left your lips at the cooling sensation and you felt yourself clench slightly as Harvey retracted his fingers. At your gasp, the older man felt his heart skip several beats and a varying number of inappropriate thoughts flashed through his mind. Harvey tripped to keep his now throbbing cock at bay as he looked at your glistening pussy and he swore a bit of saliva fell from the corner of his mouth and onto his lap. Shaking his head lightly, Harvey grabbed the speculum from the small medical table he had wheeled in with him.

“That looks like a torture device,” you said with a nervous chuckle, looking down at the speculum in Harvey’s hand.

“It does look scary, but I promise it’s not as bad as you’re thinking. It won’t be pleasant, but it won’t be unbearably painful either.” You nodded your head once again in response and sucked in a deep breath as Harvey placed the speculum at your entrance. “I’m going to push it in now, okay?”

“O-Okay,” you whispered. Without hesitation, Harvey pushed the lubricated speculum inside you, ripping yet another gasp from your throat. He opened the speculum and looked inside, taking note of the things he needed to do before grabbing a swab and taking a sample.

After a few seconds of an uncomfortable feeling, Harvey slowly pulled the speculum from you. “There. All done.” Harvey looked up from between your legs and offered you a weak smile and placed the speculum off to the side for sterilisation once you had left his office.

“Done?” You asked, letting out a breath you had been holding in and sighed, your legs collapsing flat onto the bed and covering yourself with the thin paper-like blanket yet again. You looked at Harvey and offered him a weak smile before your eyes casted down to his little ‘problem’ between his legs. The colour drained from Harvey’s face when he saw your gaze downcast to his crotch and he immediately began to stammer out a sentence.

“I-I didn’t mean to - I couldn’t help it - I just-”

“Harvey, it’s okay,” you whispered softly, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I may just be a farmer, but I know the basics of human sex organs. You don’t have to be a doctor to understand that.”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Harvey mumbled, playing with his fingers that rested gently on his lap.

“Uncomfortable? “ You asked him quizzically.

“Well, yes,” Harvey adjusted his glasses awkwardly as he shifted down in his seat. “It’s not professional at all and it’s extremely unethical.”

Your brain didn’t even get a chance to process the words before you blurted out, “do you need some help?” Your eyes widened as soon as the sentence left your lips and so did Harvey’s. Had he heard you right? To save face, you just allowed yourself to continue talking. “You know… Do you need me to help you get rid of your erection?”

“Y/N!” Harvey managed to stammer out, his face now bright red from shame and embarrassment.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about Harvey,” you whispered softly. “It’s natural.”

“Thank you for being so… Understanding,” Harvey mumbled softly.

“So,” you whispered out softly, a teasing grin on your lips. “Do you want some help or not?” Harvey hesitated, unsure of what to say or do. On one hand, he wanted you so badly. The sight of your pussy alone had nearly pushed him to orgasm. On the other hand, he didn’t want to ruin possibly the only real friendship he had in Pelican Town. It took a few seconds of awkward silence before Harvey finally nodded a ‘yes’ in response to your question. You sat up, the paper-like blanket falling from your lap, and pulled him down on top of you so both of his hands were resting on either side of your head. Harvey gazed down at you with a look of longing in his eyes and slowly, he inched his face towards yours until your lips were placed firmly against his. The kiss was clumsy and it was clear to you at that moment that this man had limited experience when it came to women, if any. His tongue ran over your bottom lip in a desperate attempt to wriggle its way into your mouth, but teasingly, you kept your lips pressed together. Harvey let out a needy whimper and a simple ‘please’ left his lips. Sighing dreamily, you parted your lips and allowed Harvey’s tongue to delve into your mouth with such an eagerness you don’t think you had ever experienced. Your hands quickly began to unbuckle his trousers, feeling his straining erection pushing almost painfully against them. “Harvey,” you whispered softly against his lips, pulling his trousers and underwear down to his knees, allowing his cock to spring free. For someone so shy and anxious, you never expected him to be as large as he was, his cock was thick and veiny and heavily pressing against your exposed heat.

“Y/N,” Harvey gasped. He felt the wetness of your cunt slick the side of his cock as he bucked his hips up against you desperately. “Can I put it in? Please.” How could you deny him when he begged so deliciously. You nodded your head and Harvey immediately jumped for joy, slicking the tip of his cock up your wet folds before slowly inching himself in. A gasp ripped from his throat as he fully sheathed himself inside of you, halting for a moment to allow you to adjust to his length. “Oh… You’re so tight.”

“Harvey,” you whined out, bucking your hips up against his in a desperate attempt to get him to start moving.

With clumsy thrusts, Harvey begins to move against you. His hands still rested next to your head, keeping himself upright as he moved against you slowly. Harvey was adamant he had never felt anything better than your pussy wrapped around his cock, adamant that there was no better feeling in the world that could compare. As his hips snapped against yours, Harvey’s lips met yours in a frantic kiss and a soft moan left him. “Yoba, Y/N,” he grunted against your lips. His moustache tickled your top lip, but it only seemingly added to the pleasure you were feeling. Moan after moan left your lips, as your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him ever closer to you. “You’re so wet for me. It’s intoxicating.”

“Mhm,” you nod your head, trying to keep as quiet as you could. After all, you were in the doctor's office. Harvey kissed down your lips, to your jaw until he reached the sweet spot on your neck. He immediately began sucking on the tender flesh of your throat as soft noises left your mouth. This only spurred him on more, and soon he was leaving big red hickey’s along your neck. The pleasure only intensified when Harvey angled your hips so he could reach deeper inside of you. You were right on the edge. “Harvey, I’m going to cum,” you moaned out softly as your hands made their way to your clit, rubbing harsh and quick circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Cum for me sweetheart,” Harvey moaned out as he felt the walls of your cunt contract around him, gripping his cock like a vice. Just as he had said those words, your orgasm rippled through you like a tidal wave. Your legs tightened around his waist before going slack, shaking with the pleasure you felt as Harvey continued to thrust against you haphazardly. As he felt you contract around him, Harvey knew that he would follow close behind, his breathing increased rapidly as his hips sped up of their own accord. “Where do you want me?” He asked breathlessly.

“Inside, please, inside,” you begged pathetically, your body still shaking from your release.

Harvey didn’t even think about the potential consequences. Instead, he took your begging as consent and immediately, his orgasm ripped through him from the sound of your begging, mixed with your tight heat wrapped around him. “Oh my,” Harvey groaned out as his entire body shook with ecstasy. His hips spluttered against yours as rope after rope shot from his cockhead and his head fell back, mouth open wide with pleasure. “I love you,” he whimpered as his hips thrusted against you a few more times before finally stilling.

Your eyes were wide at his admission, but you couldn’t deny that your heart was beating rapidly against your chest. “I love you too,” you whispered back, causing Harvey to stiffen at your words. He couldn’t believe that the words had slipped past his lips, but then again, he couldn’t believe any of this had happened.

After a few seconds of silence, Harvey spoke up as he propped himself up above you so he could look down at you. “You do?”

You nodded your head eagerly, a sweet smile playing on your lips. “Yes.”

Harvey felt his heart skip a few beats at your words and a blush covered his face when he realised he was softening inside of you. He leaned down to kiss you once again, muttering against your lips. “I love you so much.”

You kissed back when there was a knock on Harvey’s office door followed by Maru’s voice. “Doctor Harvey, your next patient is here to see you.”

Harvey pulled his lips away from yours and groaned before calling back, “be right out!” Maru’s footsteps walked away from the door and Harvey finally pulled out of your sticky cunt with a low whine before whispering to you, “will I see you again?”

You watched him quizzically as he pulled his trousers and underwear back up around his hips. “Why wouldn’t you?” You asked eventually after a few seconds of watching him. Harvey shrugged slightly and rubbed his moustache awkwardly. You grinned at him. “Come by my farm tonight after work, okay?”

“What for?” Harvey asked, tilting his head as it was now his turn to watch you get your bottom-half dressed.

“Just… trust me, okay?” You said with a smile. Harvey nodded his head and returned your smile before walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face into your neck, inhaling your scent with a contented sigh.

“I’ll see you later then,” he whispered before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. “Now, I have to get back to work.”

“I’ll see you later, Doctor,” you whispered, giving him a nod before turning on your heels to walk out of the door.

You bid goodbye to Maru as you left the clinic and made your way back to the farm. Smiling to yourself, you tended to the farm and your animals, something that you were too anxious to do earlier. As you moved you felt Harvey’s spend trickle down your thigh, a constant reminder of what had happened at your appointment. Your heart skipped a few beats and you had to pinch yourself for the moment to feel real in your mind. You couldn’t wait for that evening, to see Harvey again in the comfort of your own home with no time limit. Maybe he’d even spend the night… Who knew what would happen, only time would tell.

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