#so if anything is wrong don’t @ me I’m waiting to rewatch

[bambeebirdie]

WAS NO ONE GOING TO TELL ME THEY REMADE TRIGUN OR WAS I JUST SUPPOSED TO FIGURE THAT OUT ON MY OWN?!?!?

[starlooove]

How to explain my fave Robin is Matt McGinnis

[6ebe]

the untamed my beloved <3

[licorice-tea]

The Bane of My Existence

Pairing:Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: some spoilers for Sabaody arc (nothing major), enemies to lovers! strawhat reader, reader and law are both stubborn and argumentative smh, reader is more optimistic though, law is awkward and not great at understanding his own feelings <3

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: part 1/2 for a little enemies to lovers fic! one of my favorite tropes but I almost never write about it... also I've been rewatching bridgerton and was very inspired by the relationship between Kate and Anthony, which is where the title comes from too! (can you guess what part 2 will be called?) anyway, enjoy and lmk your thoughts! :)

Part 2

Sabaody Archipelago is easily one of the coolest places you’ve visited so far. Not that Alabasta, Skypiea, Water 7, Thriller Bark weren’t cool too… but you’re a people person! And to get to see such a diverse mix of groups from all over the world converging here, on one island Archipelago, brings a genuine smile to your face. It truly does remind you of a theme park: from the attractions to the oversized trees and bubbles.

In fact, you’re so caught up in all the splendors of the carnival-esque grove that you don’t realize you’re being watched. Or, followed, rather.

The Heart Pirates, yet another crew from some vague corner of the world, have been tracking you for the better part of an hour now. Except, they’re only following their captain, who happens to be following you.

Hes not entirely discreet about it though, because at one point Bepo asks, “Um… Captain, why are we following them?”

Shachi responds unprompted, “Yeah, I’ve never seen their bounty poster so… what’s up?”

Law scowls, “I’m not following anyone.”

Though he is low-key following you, Law couldn’t give a good reason as to why. You walked past him and his crew on your way to meet up with the rest of your crew- the Strawhat Pirates- and he’d just sort of trailed after you once you’d gotten a safe distance ahead.

“Really? Because every time they stop for directions, we slow down. And we’ve turned at all the same spots, too… So it really does seem like we’re follo-“

“I am NOT following them.” He lies through (literally) gritted teeth.

Now, Trafalgar Law is in now way shape or form a believer in love at first sight. He’s never been in love period… but the feeling he gets from seeing you is something new and foreign. Like, he really wants to talk to you… he just doesn’t know what for. Law is still trying his best to come up with reasons to stop you and ask for your name when you overhear the brief argument between him and his friends.

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you spot a group of at least 10 on your trail. They’re in the middle of conversation, so they don’t notice you taking notice of them.

Your first instinct is to look around for your crew; but of course, they’re scattered across the groves of Sabaody Archipelago by now - as are you. “Sigh. I might just have to handle this in my own.” But, wait- who said they wanted to fight you? Maybe you should just approach them first, wouldn’t that give you the upper hand in some way? (It wouldn’t, but you can’t think of anything better than to try and charm your way out of a possible jumping with your friendliness and perfect smile.) So, you roll back your shoulders and take a breath before strolling back over the grass to your pursuers.

“Why would I be following some rand-“

“Because you have a crush on them!”

“Oh they’re cute, Captain, you should ask them to join!”

“Gasp! Yeah, then you can get to know-“

They all go silent (save for some quiet gasps) as you step toward the semi circle they’ve formed around one man- the only one not wearing a white uniform, who they call “Captain.” You tap him on the shoulder and he whips his head around.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?”

The man just stares at you for a moment with a frown. You fear that you might’ve been wrong about his intentions, until he blinks and mumbles, “Uh… Sure.”

Your smile returns- of course you weren’t wrong! Plus, he’s kind of hot, but you’d catalog that thought and come back to it on some lonely night in the future. “Great! I’m looking for grove 41, it’s where some of my friends are.”

You’d learned back in Water 7 that sometimes, it was best not to disclose who exactly you’re traveling with, nor the location of your ship. (At least, not when you’re infamous pirates.)

“Grove 41? I’m headed there too.”

The polar bear wearing who is also wearing a white uniform clears his throat.

“I thought we were heading to Grove 1, Captain?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to get in y’all’s way then-“

“Nah, I think Captain would love to show you the way.”

“Shachi!” The captain sneers. “We’ll meet back up at Grove 1 after I show them the way." Then, he looks you up and down. It's quick and analytical rather than flirtatious or intimidating. "Don’t cause me any trouble.”

You smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m y/n, by the way.”

“Trafalgar Law, and this is my crew, the Heart Pirates.” He gestures around the semi circle, then turns to face them, “You guys go take a break or something. I’ll be back shortly.”

“But Captain, we want to go with you!”

One of the men with red hair- Shachi, you’re pretty sure, elbows the polar bear.

“Hey!…” He looks down at Shachi then gasps like he suddenly had a revelation; “Ohhh. Sorry Captain, we’ll see you later!”

Law rolls his eyes. “See you soon.”

There's something about his dark hair and grey eyes that charms you, right off the bat. Or maybe it's his relaxed, confident demeanor. Possibly even his idiosyncratic style of clothing, and how he (and all of his crew) wore the same logo; so very organized and professional. But no matter the exact reason as to why, you find yourself quite happy to be in his company.

Alas, he’s not a very talkative man, so you make up most of the conversation with questions and your own introductory information. “-and that’s how I got here, to Sabaody!”

“Uh huh. And who did you say your crew was again?”

“I, ahem, I don’t travel with a crew.”

“Right.” He laughs dryly.

“What is it?”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I- I’m not lying!”

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what crew you’re a part of,” Law explains, “but don’t lie and say you’re not a pirate at all.”

“Well… it’s generally not a good idea to tell strangers that you’re a pirate. Not even nice ones, like you."

Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach that unexpectedly appear when you call him nice, Law's burning curiosity is fed by your roundabout half-answer. “Ah, so you are one? What’s your bounty?”

“That’s not really any of your business.” Though you believe his intentions to be purely based in curiosity, you're second guessing allowing this man to lead you away on an island grove that you have never visited, nor know anything about. Still, your crew is nowhere in sight or hearing range, which worries you given just how loud they usually are.

“I’m paying you a favor by leaving my crew to escort you to where I’m assuming your ship is located- it’s the least you could do.” Law’s tone is more prickly than before.

“Well, I don’t need an escort, and you’ve already walked me halfway there and pointed me in the right direction.”

“Fine- then I’ll leave.”

His sudden change in mood from what you interpreted as shy to borderline aggressive throws you off. And so, having a similar moody temperament and stubbornness (though you’d never admit it after seeing it so clearly in him), you return the sentiment. “Fine by me.”

You continue walking forward while Law turns back, until he calls over his shoulder. “And by the way; you’ll need to find your way through the lawless zone up ahead if you want to get to Grove 41.” If condescending was a person, it would be him. You’re sure of it. “That, or I could’ve shown you a much safer shortcut.”

You pause, turn to face him, roll your eyes, and continue walking.

“What, you’re still not going to ask for my help?”

“Don’t need it!” Which, you really don’t. You’re plenty strong, but your bounty is small enough to not be worried. “I’m not scared of a law-less zone, if anything I think I’d welcome it.”

Your mocking words hurt his ego in a way he hasn't felt in years, taking him down several pegs.

You don't even stick around long enough to listen to him rebuke everything about you, from your high and mighty tone to your vain attempts at lying, ending his one sided argument with a very classy middle finger your way. So, Law grumbles all the way back to Grove 1 to find his crew, and hopes to never see you again. Meanwhile, you find your way to the other Strawhats. Your adventure with them continues, and you don’t have much time to think of your earlier encounter with a handsome pirate and possible-friend turned enemy (if you could even call him that.)

Law doesn't know if his ego (or wildly beating heart) could take another second in your presence- it just might burst if it had to endure any more of your witty comments or sly looks. It would, however, be an interesting theory to test further, should you ever meet again.

The prospect is both horrifying and thrilling to him at the same time.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

genre: smut, office romance

word count: 5k

summary: a week after walking in on your boyfriend fucking someone else, Max gives you the day off. You leave, unaware that you dropped your watch. Much to your surprise, he brings it to you. Your relationship with him escalates in the following days.

warnings: office sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, use of 'sir' & 'good girl', piv, dom/sub dynamics, very mild degradation (he calls you his cocksleeve like once), dumbification if you squint, soft!max at times

a/n: I drafted this months ago and only now I finally finished the fic, I have no idea why I waited this long especially since I'd written most of it back then but other wips got in the way--sorry Max lmaodvdf this is my first time writing for you and I hope I did you justice 🖤 I rewatched his scenes and I'm still so horny for this man it's making me look stupid

Max’s office is the nicest one of everyone who works in this building, albeit a bit darker. There’s a succulent on his desk that reminds you of a translucent star and you can’t seem to draw your eyes away from it. His voice is smooth and melodic but you aren’t really listening. Your hand moves over to your watch, feeling the coolness of metal underneath your fingertips. It’s nice. 

It’s safe to say that you’re not really paying attention to anything. 

Your eyes are wet still, a sting every time you dare to blink. It’s been a week since you found your boyfriend screwing someone else on the couch in the living room. The image still lingers in your head, taunting you. 

While you stared, unblinking as they scrambled for their clothes, all you could think of how happy you were that they didn’t use the bedroom. 

Now that the relationship is over it’s easier to see the red flags. The way he belittled you, your passions, the things that you enjoyed. Your body, your cooking, anything you did was never enough for him. It was an open invitation to mock you for who you were. And that was the least of it, he never touched you, and you had to beg him for sex— not in the fun kind if you might add. You feel so fucking stupid for trying to make him happy.

“You’re not listening are you?” 

You flinch upon hearing the question, eyes finally snapping away from the succulent and turning to Max. You didn’t mean to be so obvious about it. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. . . Great, another person you couldn’t make happy no matter what you did. 

“You’ve been like this all week. Is there something going on? You can take leave if you need to, you’re not really much use like this anyway” 

His words sting but you can’t really blame him for it. Though you did find it funny that as an immortal he was so pressed for time. 

“Sorry,” you say and he looks at you, really looks at you. Brown eyes move from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his own. “I’ll do better just some... personal stuff going on,”

“Family?” 

“Shitty breakup.” 

“Oh.”

Max appreciates bluntness. You figured that one out on your first day here. He isn’t a fan of keeping anything that might affect your work bottled up. He doesn't like the guessing game either. If there’s something wrong he wants to know and if he can he’ll fix it. Not that he can really fix a broken heart. 

He suddenly stands up, making his way around the desk. He lends against the edge, hands on his lap. Instictecly you curl your fingers around the armrests. Max is pretty docile for the most part, unless he’s hungry. But the way he’s looking down at you, brows relaxed and a faint smile tugging at his lips, it makes your heart drop. He’s a walking corpse but his eyes are more alive compared to most people you’ve met. 

“I’m sure you’ll be happier without commitment wearing you down,” he says, voice dropping, barely above a whisper. You shudder and fail to see the way his fingers twitch. “Don’t think about it, relax, sweetheart.” 

And you do. It’s like warm water dancing over your skin. Your shoulders slump, your body limply sinking into the chair. A lazy smile spreads across your lips and he smiles back, teeth winking at you between his plush lips. “That’s it. You’re not feeling anything  now, are you?” 

You giggle, shaking your head. Even your heartbeat slows, the tips of your fingers tingling with pleasure—

You blink, pinching your brows, you slowly roll your shoulders and hear your bones crack. Max is gazing at you with utmost curiosity, thumbs drumming silently.

Then it hits you. The fucker is using his powers. Fucking vampires. 

“Stop it,” you hiss, your body relaxed but mind racing. He rolls his eyes and waves his hand as a sign of dismissal. The tension that had disappeared from your muscles return at full force, and you jolt. “You shouldn’t do that,” 

“I was trying to help,” he answers without a care in his tone. He buttons his vest and gestures with his head to the door. “Take the rest of the day off. Sort yourself. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” 

“But—” 

“Just go. It’s fine,” when you fail to look convinced, he pouts and draws a cross over his chest. Ironic. “I swear. Now go, take the day off, collect your thoughts or whatever you need to do,” 

You leave without pointing out the irony of him making a cross over his non-beating heart. You’ve worked long enough to know that if the boss wants you to take the time off, you take the time off. 

Max drags his palm over his face, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he hops off the desk and turns to look at the empty seat you left behind. He’s not sure if he should be condoning this kind of behavior. He doesn’t want people barging in here asking to leave with the most minuscule of problems. But it isn’t typical of you to be distracted so he decided that you earned it. 

He’s curious about what kind of man would be stupid enough to leave you, let alone make you look that sad. Not that it’s any of his business. 

Max is amidst turning on his heel when he sees it. A small sparkle on the carpeted floor. Cocking an eyebrow, he leans over with his hands in his pockets. A watch? 

That’s right you had a watch when you came in, you were playing with it while he was going over the weekly sales. You must’ve dropped it. Looking almost bored, he scoops it off the floor and stares at it. He sees your initials written on the back, a pretty, delicate little accessory. 

Surely you would miss it. He knows your address due to dragging your drunk self back home after an office party— so maybe he should bring it to you. Max sighs and flips the watch over. He has time to make a quick stop. 

He leaves the office with the watch snug in his pocket. It really isn’t his style to be nice, or remorseful, but he does feel a tad guilty using his powers on you. He genuinely did think he was doing some good. It did look like you were feeling better until you broke out of the trance. 

Max steps into the elevator. The tedious music loud and scratching his ears as always. 

Taking a day off isn’t going as smoothly as you had hoped. 

Initially, you thought you would binge your favorite shows and eat a bucket of ice cream. Instead, you ended up staring blankly at the ceiling, arm dangling out from the side of the bed. It’s a shitty feeling. Your heart feels heavy and uncomfortable. Maybe Max taking away the pain wasn’t so bad after all? 

There’s a loud knock on the door and you jump. Every bone in your body aches, your heart beating fast as you head to the living room. You’re praying to every god you know that it’s not your ex. You don’t want to deal with him. Especially not today. 

You take a deep, calming, breath. It’s okay. He wouldn’t just show up now, would he? Stupidly enough you don’t look through the peephole before yanking the door open, the person that lurks on the other side takes you by surprise completely. 

It’s Max. 

What the hell? 

“Hiii,” he says with a smug grin. He lifts something to your line of vision and it takes you a moment to recognize your watch. “Found this, thought you might miss it.” 

Blinking, you open your palms and he drops it. It feels like a dream. “Uh…thanks,” 

“You’re welcome,” he peers over your shoulder, looking into the dimly lit apartment. “So how’s your day off going?” 

“Not as fun as I hoped,” you give him a bittersweet smile. His eyes meet yours, and you see your reflection in them, so bright. “Do you want to come inside?” 

A shudder climbs your spine when something dark crosses his face, eyes becoming sharper. Your stomach churns and you swallow, fingers tightening around the watch. 

“Would love to” he chirps, practically jumping over the threshold. “Thank you for the invite, much obliged.” 

“You really can’t come in without being invited?” you ask, closing the door with a push of your heel. 

“Nope,” he answers, emphasizing on the p. “Why do you think I left you at the door after the party? You were too drunk to say ‘come in’ I basically had to push you through the door just so you could crawl the rest of the way to your bedroom,” 

“I honestly thought you were just being an asshole,” 

He scoffs, “I am an asshole. Just not to the people I like,” 

He drops down to the couch, which in return makes your stomach sink. You really need to burn it, you don’t think you can have it in your apartment anymore. You sit across from him, placing the watch neatly on top of the coffee table. “I wasn’t aware you liked me,” 

“Let’s say tolerate. I like your work ethic.” 

“Thank you?” you answer, unsure.

“You’re very much welcome.” 

You’re not sure why you invited him inside. He doesn’t drink coffee unless it’s morning, and he doesn’t really like to eat as far as you could tell. The silence is deafening and uncomfortable. You part your lips to ask if he would like tea or anything else but he beats you to it, gaze fixated on you. 

“So, how did it happen?” 

Your throat goes dry, “What?” 

“The break-up,” he shrugs and leans back into the couch, you internally cringe. “Do you want me to break his neck or something?” 

“What—No!” you’re horrified but can’t ignore the way warmth blossoms in your chest. You’re highly aware that he’s joking, however, it’s still a nice thought that someone actually cares enough to get pissed about it. “Where did that even come from?” 

“I don’t know, I’m not sure I like seeing you so sad. It’s unnerving.” 

“Sorry that my misfortune is bothering you,” you answer, crossing your arms. “He cheated on me, and I’m only now realizing how shitty he was.” 

“Ouch.” 

“Yeah,” 

“So I do need to break his neck then?” 

You laugh. 

You aren’t expecting it, but here you are rubbing tears from your eyes as you laugh with your whole body. There’s just something about the way he said it; as if it was the most normal thing to do. He seems to enjoy the way you laugh. Smiling wide and bright, watching you with fond eyes. 

After minutes, your laughter starts to die down, softening into breathless giggles. You’re surprised to find that Max is still smiling at you, no smugness, no cockiness, just an earnest smile. 

“Thank I really needed that,” you say, heat building at the base of your spine. “Sorry if I worried you. It’s been a bit rough lately.” 

“We can’t all be perfect every second,” he grins, he flattens his palms over his thighs, moving them up and down. Your breath hitches, eyes involuntarily dropping to his crotch. You’re flustered all of a sudden. He tilts his head, tongue poking out of his cheek as he gives you an open-mouthed smirk. “See something you like, sweetheart?” 

Your eyes snap to his face, cheeks burning, “Nope. Not—Not at all,” 

He leans forward, placing his elbows on his thighs. There’s a table in between but you feel as if he’s a breath away. You swallow, goosebumps rousing over your skin. 

“You know I can smell it right?” he purrs. “I can smell the arousal gathering between your legs. I can hear the way your heart is beating… That asshole had no idea how to fuck you properly did he?” 

Your pussy bottoms out at his words. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction that he’s right, you don’t want him to know how badly you want him inside. For him to whisper praises into your ear as you squirm around his cock. You lick your lips. He’s not using his powers, you can tell. Yet you still want to blame it on the fact that he’s doing something to make you feel so hot and bothered. But it’s not him, just you. 

You’re not sure when you started to have the hots for your boss, but clearly, there was something there. Lurking in the darkness of your mind.

“Look at you,” he coos, eyes raking over your body. “So sweet and afraid. Let me be the first one to say that he didn’t deserve you. Not in the slightest,” 

“Max…” you warn. 

“Yeah…?” he mimics your tone, smile somehow wider. “Would you want to get coffee before work tomorrow morning?” 

The question catches you by surprise. You observe him for a brief moment, he seems dead serious—at least the amount of serious Max Phillips can be. 

You nod.

Your first early morning coffee date with Max goes exactly how you expect it to go. You pay for both coffees as a thank you. He found it unnecessary but grumbled a thanks anyway. He talks a lot about work; about sales, about his time in Romania. But mostly work. You do appreciate the distraction though so you don’t complain. You pitch in, telling him ways the company could improve but also adding that you want to quit one day and do something better with your life. 

The following mornings follow the same pattern. Mostly conversations about work, and sipping coffee. That is until Tuesday rolls around. It’s an especially cold morning and you find yourself huddling closer to him as the two of you sat on the bench. He doesn’t really seem bothered by the cold, which makes sense since he’s cold-blooded. 

Max’s eyes drop to your trembling fingers that were curled helplessly around the coffee cup. You notice his frown, his gaze lifts back up to meet your eyes. “Do you want to go inside?” 

“No, I’m good. Besides it’s too early to start working.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “We do get here early don’t we.” 

“I mean…we don’t have to. But I have been enjoying our mornings.” 

“So have I,” he chews on his bottom lip, instinctively moving closer to you when he feels a shudder crawling up your spine. “It sucks that I can’t really warm you up—being undead and all— This would be the perfect moment to hold your hands.” 

Funnily enough, he does manage to warm you up. You look down at your hands, the cup only half full, you place it to the side. Max truly had been a balm to your broken heart these past couple of days. He never got overly flirtatious again as he did in your apartment, some part of you is disappointed that he didn’t. 

“You can—” you lick your lips, the wetness furthering the chill. “You can still do that. If you want to.” 

“Yeah?” he moves his jaw, eyes dropping to your lips. “You’ll be colder.” 

“I think it might be worth the risk.” 

Max brings your hands to his lips, brushing your knuckles and kissing each finger individually. You shudder. He wasn’t wrong, he was awfully cold. But you weren’t wrong either, it’s worth it. Hundred percent. His mouth moves over the back of your hand in the shape of waves, the pit in your stomach rolling, and butterflies fluttering in your chest. His eyes meet yours and you’re mesmerized by him. His eyebrows raise, lips kissing the curve of your wrist, laying a path to the inside, he drags his teeth over the skin right above the vein. 

A sudden fear spikes from your feet to your neck. He wouldn’t, would he? 

“Are you afraid of me?” the question is whispered with a breath into your skin. Everywhere except the tip of your nose is warm. He looks at you with heavy eyelids, lashes kissing his cheeks every time he blinks. 

You don’t have an answer, but you know what he needs to hear. 

“I’m not.” 

Before you can blink his lips mold into yours. He traces the seam of your mouth with his tongue eagerly, and you part your lips, allowing him to taste and dominate. With both hands he holds your wrists firmly, pulling you close until you’re basically flush against him. Max inhales as he presses deeper, licking the inside of your mouth and swallowing your whines. 

He breaks away from you with a smile, you see the flash of fangs.

You gently knock on the already open door. Max is positively exhausted. His eyes snap from his computer to you, he sighs and signals you to enter with two fingers. You close the door when you enter. 

“Are we still good for dinner?” you ask, feeling slightly foolish now that you were standing in the middle of his office. 

“Sorry baby, not today. These assholes managed to mix everything up, need to fix all that so I’m going to be here late,” 

You try very hard not to look disappointed. You already know you failed when you feel your bottom lip starting to quiver. You ball your hands into weak fists, pushing your nails into your skin. He notices, a moment of worry crosses his face. 

Tonight wasn’t really a date, or anything important. It was just dinner. 

Then why are you so upset?

You neither move away nor lean in as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs, and you exhale at the way you can feel his chest move underneath you. 

“Nothing, just—Don’t worry about it. I’m just being clingy. I know you’re busy,” 

“Clingy? Oh, sweetheart,” he rolls his chair back and slaps his thigh. “Come, sit on my lap.” 

“Uh…” your eyes flit between his spread legs and his face. “Excuse me?” 

“Just get your gorgeous self over here.” 

Swallowing, your legs move on their own. Your heart does somersaults in your chest. His smile never falters as you slowly lower yourself down, feeling his frame under you. Your insides clench. Your arms shake. You feel his breath on your neck when he guides your arms around his neck. He presses his lips where your neck and chest meet, heat coils in your stomach. 

“Max…” 

“You could never be too clingy,” he murmurs. “And even if you were I would love it. I’m actually really happy you came over, I was starting to think this thing between us was going nowhere.” 

“You want it…to go somewhere?” 

“Of course, I fucking do,” he snaps, looking up, glaring at you. “Do you think I come here that early just to drink coffee—I like spending time with you.” 

You feel yourself start to tremble as his hands move up your thighs and cup your ass. He squeezes gently and you gasp, your skin prickling under his touch. His lips move away from your neck, pressing soft kisses up your jaw until he reaches your ear.

"I want to take this further," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to fuck you, sweetheart. Bend you over this table and make you scream my name because I’m sure haven’t been screaming anything for a while."

His hands move around your body, tracing the line of your spine and the curves of your hips. His touch is gentle and yet rough at the same time, your heart beats faster with each passing second. You melt into him, wanting more, wanting him.

“I want to feel your wet cunt around my cock,” he groans, dragging his teeth down the column of your neck. His voice drops an octave. “Let me fuck you sweet thing.”

You pause for a moment, and then you nod, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Yes," you whisper. "Yes, I want this too."

Max smiles, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss. He nips at your bottom lip before pulling it and slipping his tongue into your mouth. Pulling you closer—inhaling you—he cups your head from both sides, and groans into your mouth. You feel the growing wetness between your legs, your body having a mind of its own, you grind down on him, shuddering as you feel the hard length under his pants. 

“Needy,” he tuts, gripping you by the neck. You hiss when he yanks you back, the rest of your body falling still. “You’ll take what I give you. Is that clear?” 

“Yes—” you bite the inside of your cheek. “Yes, sir.” 

Your cheeks burn as his eyes widen momentarily. Then he closes them, taking a steady breath, he cocks his head to the side. A soft hum echoes in his throat. 

“I like that,” he purrs, opening his eyes. “Say that again.” 

“Please, sir.” you choke out.

Max's grip tightens as he bends you over the office table. You gasp, your skin hot as he shoves your pants down to your knees. While you kick them off, you hear a zipper, feel the weight of his cock on the top of your ass. Your face is directly staring at the door— If someone were to waltz in, the first sight to greet them would see you taking your boss’s cock. However, you can hardly care when his warm breath fans your neck, his breathing uneven and rushed. 

He slips his hands down and cups your ass, kneading and squeezing as he shoves you further against the cold desk. 

"You look so sexy like this," he growls, his cock pushing against your ass as he presses himself against you. His hands move up your body, and he starts tugging at the buttons of your shirt, loosening them one by one. His lips brush against your ear and you shiver in anticipation as his hot breath tickles your skin.

"Say. It." 

It’s a threat and some wicked part of you is tempted to exhaust his patience. His hands move down your body, and his fingers start to tease your nipples as he traces circles around them. Then, when you don’t answer, he pinches them harshly. 

Your body jerks at the sharp pain, an acute moan rips from your throat. 

“Fuck me, sir. Please.” 

“You sound so good like this, begging for my cock,” he purrs. “I’m going to go easy on you today sweetheart, but don’t expect me to always be so nice.” 

He slides his hands lower, and his fingers slip between your legs, teasing and caressing your wetness. Your eyes roll back as his fingers start to penetrate you, and you grind downs in search of more. Wanting him deeper, wanting more of him. 

“So fucking wet,” he coos, he pulls out his fingers, smearing wet streaks across your hips. He nudges his cock between your folds and rocks his hips, the catches against your clit and a loud moan rips from your throat. “That’s my girl, and you thought I didn’t want this. What kind of idiot wouldn’t want this pretty cunt? Hmm?” 

“Max, please. . .” 

You hear the growl that rattles his chest. Closing his eyes, he cocks his head to the side, tongue tracing the edges of his fangs. “I really love hearing you beg,” he groans. “And the blood rush in your veins.” 

Your breath catches in your throat—and in one smooth thrust, he slips inside of you. You clutch the edges of the desk, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Suddenly the rest of the world blurs and it’s just you and him. He stretches you perfectly, his length deep enough to hit all the right spots. His hands smooth a path up your spine. You practically purr at the feeling. You whimper, and when you do, his lips are on your neck in an instant. His body a cool, yet comfortable, blanket on top of you. 

“Good girl. Look at you, being so obedient,” he licks the salt off your skin. “You feel so good, baby. The perfect cocksleeve for the boss.” 

“Oh god—” you choke out. You have no idea how to respond to that, but your body sure does. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him tight. His breath hitches. You feel him straighten behind you, his hands press you down from the waist and you can’t help the small squeal that parts your lips. 

He’s restraining himself. You can tell by the way his hips twitches, eager to bury more of himself into you. His nails bite into your skin and instinctively you raise your hips. “Maaax,” you moan. “Fuck me, please. I can take it.” 

“You can, can’t you?” he mutters, sounding almost impressed. “My perfect girl. You’ll take everything I’ll give you?” 

You breathe out, “Yes—” 

And he gives you everything. 

Every thrust knocks the air from your lungs. Somewhere on the desk your arm hits a stack of papers and they fly everywhere, making a mess on the floor. Max doesn’t stop. He jackhammers into you, splitting you into two. It never felt this intense before. Never. You struggle to breathe and with every snap of his hips, you feel slick dripping down your thighs. Max groans as he wraps his fingers around your neck, pulling you up. Your breasts sway with every stroke, your nipples aching from how hard they are. His one hand remains on your throat as the other moves to your chest, kneading the soft mound in his palm. 

“Wouldn’t be fun if someone walked in right now?” he teases, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Seeing you getting absolutely railed—kinda wish I had a mirror so I could see how cock drunk you look, sweetheart.” 

Fuck, is all you can think and you desperately want to voice it out, tell him how good it feels. His voice, his breath, his teeth, his cock— But all you can do is whimper helplessly, hoping that the sound is enough to convey how much you’re enjoying this. 

“So stupid for me, I love it. You want me to make you come?” 

Another whimper. You nod helplessly, forcing yourself back to meet the movement of his hips. He hums as his hand slides between your legs, he draws wet circles around your clit, and your entire body clenches. You can barely hear him from the blood rush in your ears but you think he mumbles ‘oh shit’. Max continues to play with the sensitive bundle of nerves, with fast strokes he mumbles profanities against your skin. 

You come with his name on your lips. Your body convulses, muscles clenching and unclenching over and over as you gush all around his cock. It feels never-ending. He grinds his hips, burying himself deeper, throbbing inside. You hiss as your second orgasm washes over you, fluttering and twitching, your body goes limp. You're fairly certain if Max wasn’t holding you up, you’d collapse. 

Much to your surprise, Max slowly lays you on top of the desk and the office ceiling comes into view. He’s still pulsing between your legs. He smiles down at you, slides his fingers between your lips—the same fingers he made you come with—and leans in to shove his tongue alongside them. You part your lips wide, the taste of yourself and him making your head spin. You moan around his tongue and fingers. He pulls back with a smile.

“Where do you want me, sweetheart?” he asks, cupping your face with the same hand. 

“You can come inside,” you answer in a daze, then quickly add. “You can’t get me pregnant right?” 

He shakes his head and you smile, “Go ahead then.” 

It doesn’t take him long. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and takes deep inhales of your scent as he spills inside of you. You thread your fingers through his soft locks and gently tug on them. He groans. 

“That’s nice,” he hums, pressing his lips over your clavicle. “I wanna spend an eternity between your legs.” 

“Should I be scared that you actually can do that?” you say with a soft chuckle, he looks down at you, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. He wiggles his brows. 

“Maybe.” 

Max slowly pulls out, and when he stands, he watches the mess pour between your legs. His pupils eat away the color of his eyes and you shudder at how hungry he looks. 

Suddenly shy, you avert your gaze as you try to collect yourself, “Sorry about messing up your schedule. I’ll see you later.” 

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

He grabs your wrists and pulls you into an embrace. You hadn’t realized how tense you were until you feel yourself melting into him. 

“Fuck work,” he says, his hand resting over the small of your back. “I’ll get it done later. Let’s go home so I can at least spend tonight between your legs.” 

You grin into his chest, happy that he can’t see how ecstatic you look. He probably knows how excited you are anyway. 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

[astayinwonderland]

Plz can you write a jimin smut fanfic play boy au

"What is it about Park Jimin?" | Park Jimin

pairing: jimin x f.reader (guest appearance jk... but through text)

genre: smut MDNI

requested by: @jimincrystal

wc: 1.6k

summary: you have a problem... your neighbour jimin is too loud, but you are terribly attracted to him

warnings: pet names (jimin calls reader "pretty girl"), mentions of jimin being into girls and boys, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (don't pls), cursing... lmk if I forgot anything.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

“Hi,” his full lips curve into the flirtiest of smiles. 

“Oh, hi,” your tiny voice answers. Dammit, what was it about him anyway? 

He leans on the wall as you try not to look nervous. But who are we kidding? When you moved into this flat two months ago, all you could do was think about your next-door neighbour. It was hard not to, he often had “visitors” to entertain him, especially at night. You could hear through the very thin walls how much fun they would have. The exquisite moans he would get from the gorgeous girls and boys who were lucky enough to spend a night with him. 

You, on the other hand, are too embarrassed to look him in the eye. Not after hearing everything that happens on the other side of that wall. Not after reaching for your vibrator multiple times… 

“I think it’s about time I introduced myself,” he extends his hand and for the first time since he started talking, you look up. 

Ashy blonde hair frames his beautiful complexion. Brown eyes, staring right into yours, and his smile so beautiful, so inviting, it made your knees tremble. Before your knees gave in, you shook his hand. 

“I’m Jimin.” 

“Nice to meet you. I’m–” 

“I know, the prettiest girl in the building,” he kisses the back of your hand after whispering your name which makes you hot with wanton. 

Jimin knows perfectly the effect he has on people, but seeing the effect he has on you is different. The way your breath seems now heavier, your lips parted in shock, and oh your smell is so deliciously intoxicating. He can’t wait to have you. 

“See you around, pretty girl,” he walks to his door and you can’t even think straight. 

Nighttime comes and you find yourself eating a bowl of cereal and rewatching your favourite show. All of a sudden, you hear a loud thud on the wall, which immediately breaks your concentration. You pause the show and of course, you already know what it is. 

“Fuck! Just like that! Yes, yes!” you hear the muffled cries on the other side of the wall. When is this going to end? Should you say something? 

You pace back and forth in front of your door, trying to make a decision and in your two seconds of braveness, you gather the courage to walk next door. Your hand is about to knock when the door opens. 

“Oh!” the gorgeous girl exclaims. Beautiful dark skin, hazel eyes, and long legs. “See you around, Jimin.” She walks past you. 

Jimin waves goodbye and his eyes land on you. Flower-pattern pyjamas, fuzzy slippers, messy hair. 

“Is something wrong, pretty?” 

“I– you should try to keep it down…” you try not to look at his bare chest and his tattoo on display. Oh, the way you would lick–

“So you can hear through the wall,” he sounds surprised as if he couldn’t believe his plan worked. 

“Yes, and please… next time I would appreciate it if you, and your visitors, were a little bit less– you know,” 

“What if you are next? Would you keep it down?” 

“Excuse me?” 

He laughs, and you can tell he is enjoying this. 

“Good night, pretty. I love your pyjamas by the way,” he winks at you and closes the door. 

After a couple of days without seeing, or hearing, Jimin, you start to wonder if showing up like that outside his door was too much. You don’t want to overthink, but for you, it is important to have at least a decent relationship with your neighbours. 

It isn’t until after work that day that you come back to your flat and find a note on your door. 

I have no right, but I need a favour. Dinner at 8? I’ll bring everything. Btw, you’re gorgeous. 

Can't wait, 

Jimin x 

Fuck. 

You thought about not welcoming Jimin, after all, he is a stranger. But something about him just made you want to open yourself to him. Yes, you wanted him, so when he knocked on your door, you were already dolled up. You looked effortlessly put together. When Jimin came in and took a look at you, he scanned you up and down. 

“I knew it, the prettiest girl in the building… prettiest girl in the world,” he brought food and wine for both of you. It smelled really good and tasted even better. 

“So what is this about?” 

“First of all, thank you. My friend is visiting, so we’ve been going around the city these last few days– and now he met this girl… and you know, he wanted to invite her over before he leaves,” he laughs, sipping his wine. 

“Oh… I see,” you look down, trying to mask the awkwardness. 

“Also, I wanted to apologise for the— noise.” 

“It’s okay, apology accepted,” you smile. Jimin is way more friendly than you thought. He is easy to talk to, funny, and interesting. You can see why he has so many people fall for his charms. 

And then you both hear it– moaning so loud you could think there was some adult movie being filmed next door. It was intense, the skin slapping, muffled but clear enough to know what it was. 

Jimin turns to look at you, and he can’t help but laugh. 

“Oh pretty girl, this is what you were talking about–” 

“Oh no, this is worse,” you cover your ears but end up laughing at Jimin’s expression. 

“What, do you think they could hear us from this side?” 

Your eyes widen and you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but now that the wine is in your system, you want Jimin even more. 

“I think so,” once again your tiny voice comes out. 

“Let me kiss you,” Jimin leans in and waits, so you pull him in. 

His lips are soft as you expect them to be, but his tongue is the root of all sin. It tastes so good against yours, teasing and sucking your bottom lip. He is hooked on the way you kiss him back, creating a dependence on the little moans you give him, enjoying every little second of such a passionate kiss. Your hands go to the back of his neck, lips locking with each other again and again, causing your arousal to start pooling between your legs. Fuck, what is it about Park Jimin? 

The moans can still be heard next door, but you don’t mind anymore as pieces of clothing are forgotten on the floor. 

“Shit– you’re fucking gorgeous, look at these tits,” he sucks and kisses your nipples, worshipping them as his fingers gather your arousal. 

His tongue circles your hard nipple as one of his fingers slides into you. You let out a long, pleading moan. You wanted this, for so fucking long you wanted him. The way your back is arched gives him better access to you. So now you are under his control, he fucked you with his finger as his precum leaked off his cock. What a fucking sight. 

Another finger goes in, and in your desperate state to cum, you reach to your clit and start playing with it just like you like it. 

“Is that how you played with yourself while eavesdropping on what was going on next door, pretty?” he asks, but you can’t answer. You are too lost in this raw, filterless feeling of sheer pleasure. 

Jimin slides his fingers out of you, making you cry in disbelief, you were so close. 

“I wanna have you right there, against the wall.” 

So with your hands against the wall and your back bent forward, he holds to your hips and aligns with your entrance. His cock thick and veiny enters you with ease. His hips snap into yours, and he pulls your head up by your hair. 

“Tell me pretty, how good does it feel?” 

“So–so… aaahhh, so good,” you cry, you moan. His cock is deep inside you, hitting just the right spot. It’s better than good. He has devil cock and you are sure gonna sin again and again for it. 

“You have no idea how many times I dreamt of having you like this… Every fucking time I wondered if you could hear me from here… your pussy is fucking perfect.” 

And it was in the way your warm walls hugged his cock so tightly he hoped you would beg for more after this. Jimin’s head begins to feel lighter and lighter and he can’t believe he is already about to cum. But how can he not if you are the fucking best. 

You can’t even hear how loud you’re being, all you are focused on is how deliciously Jimin stretches you out like you are meant to be fucked by him, only him. 

“Pretty girl, I am not gonna last long, you– you feel– you’re the best…” 

“Cum with me, please, please, I am so close,” and your words float in the air as Jimin fucks you just as you wanted until you are both cuming and crashing into such an intense orgasm, you see white and have to be held by him. His warm cum dripping down your legs, the sinful evidence of such a dirty but pleasurable deed. 

The moans next door have completely stopped and Jimin has already helped you to get you cleaned up. You both lie naked on your couch, his arm around you and you wonder how the fuck are you going to casually say hi to him again in the hallway. 

Jimin’s phone vibrates.

Jungkook: Shit, man. Couldn’t you let me have one night? One fucking night? 

Jimin: You were being too loud, and this girl’s is out of this world. 

You look at Jimin, exhausted, your eyes closing. 

“Should we make this a regular thing?” he asks. 

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

a/n: this took me so so sooo long-- sorry... I had the biggest writer's block with this one. Jimin makes me nervous.

also... this is pure ✨fiction✨ hope you enjoyed it!

masterlist

[insightfulllama]

ANYWAY HERE’S A MASSIVE LIST OF OBSERVATIONS AND THOUGHTS FROM REWATCHING THE CABIN VOD AHAHAHAHA

(Spoilers)

The first thing Ranboo clearly says is, “It wasn’t supposed to…be like this…” They are very disoriented and confused, verging on distress.

When the mask turns on, they panic and yell “no” several times, before standing and going, “Where am I?” and “This place sure looks weird!” in the NPC voice. I believe he knew something was wrong and was able to scream, but not anything more before they took full control. 

The NPC behavior isn't as obvious as it is in "Warehouse", but I definitely see it now that I'm looking for it. Pretty unsettling. 

Ranboo checks locations they had already looked at before the mask turned on. (The door, the bookshelf, the ashes, etc)

Ranboo can see us, but with the masks influence we appear as a “weird painting”. 

When he is flipping through the magazines and waiting for chat to decide where they go, he says, “These are just old pajamas.” I think that’s what they say, I have no idea what it means. 

When Ranboo first goes to look at the window, he bends out of frame and messes with something (I think the VHS’s) and says, “Those don’t seem too important.” Pretty interesting considering he later uses a VHS to communicate with the one trying to get him out. (Showfalls influence?)

He’s complained about his head hurting twice now, I think this may become a pattern

They find a set of teeth in the drawer

The red key is IN the red bat- mirroring how the key is in Slimecicle later? Did he have to dig into a dead animal to get it here as well and we just didn’t see it because of the mask? 

Ranboo’s spacial awareness seems impaired. He doesn’t know where Slime went because he can’t directly see him. This happens again later with Sneeg, Ranboo looking the entirely wrong way when Sneeg calls out. Both Slime and Sneeg call attention to this- “It’s a house, there’s door frames! How did you get inside if you do not know what a door is?” and “How do you not hear me?...How did you look over there, man?”

JUST realized the key colors match the “characters” we’ve been introduced to. (The Savior, The Taken, The Villain)  I don’t know if there’s further symbolism connected to where the keys are found and stuff but it’s pretty neat. 

When Slime does the pinkie swear promising that Ranboo can leave after he does the cooking challenge, they have their fingers crossed behind their back. 

Slimy Guts is one of the available ingredients, bit sus considering our new knowledge. Also chinese leftovers got 0% of the votes LOL

The random cutaways are kinda strange. Don’t know what to make of them. 

Ranboo uses a pretty big knife to open a little package of slime, is instructed to “beat up” the food and call it names, and later he offers to cut Slime off the floor when he gets stuck. I think there’s a good chance ranboo stabbed someone and made a meal with their guts. Or something in that vein. (Several times Ranboo points out that these aren’t REAL ingredients and he doesn’t know how someone could eat it. What’s happening is probably so horrifying that he can’t imagine it as something normal like chicken, so his brain is substituting with stuff that’s weird but TECHNICALLY not morally reprehensible.)

Fridge says “BEHIND YOU” on it

Gummy worm was in the freezer, body parts can be kept in freezers, idk

Someone really likes mayo, cause they stopped it when it was on the turntable and gave the camera a thumbs up

Slime tries the meal but he’s really reluctant and needs specific circumstances to do it. If the theory of the meal being human guts it true, the hesitation probably didn’t have anything to do with airplane noises…

What is in the backgrounds of these cutaways? It’s so blurry idk, I can’t tell. It’s sort of purply. 

The dish in the end turns to slime with all the possible ingredients mixed in, even the ones we didn’t pick. In universe it reinforces that our choices don’t really matter, from a meta perspective it’s probably so they only had to make one slime prop. 

The timing of the marshmallow string stretching as slime tries to feed ranboo is HYSTERICAL, golden comedic timing

The mask starts blinking when ranboo gets the tape message. 

The person on tape instructs Ranboo “not to resist”. I believe this is said in the second message as well. Perhaps they don’t want Ranboo drawing attention to themself

Like in the room they woke up in, Ranboo checks areas multiple times, seemingly with no memory of the first time he checks. He does the exact same “flashlight in the eyes” gag each time he picks it up. It really enforces that in this moment he is a puppet, not making his own choices. 

“What’s over here?” NPC!Ranboo back in full swing with this dialogue. 

Ranboo did the cooking game, Sneeg didn’t. Sneeg refused to kill? Maybe cause he didn’t have a mask? Hmmm idk

The baby skull on a background shelf has a MASSIVE forehead

Light starts flickering when slime appears

What does the fight between evil sneeg and ranboo mean? Maybe they were both trapped and had a fight?? What does it mean without the obscuring mask? 

Ranboo is able to get sneeg out of slimes influence, and sneeg says a few times afterward that he’s immune now. Ranboo can help people get out of Showfalls influence? (The gooey hat does bring Sneeg out of the influence later, extension of that Ranboo effect?)

When Sneeg looks to see if Slime is in the box, there is a “shhhh” sound effect

Sneeg says Frank is his eyes and ears- was Frank a whistleblower, feeding information about Showfall to the outside? Unsure

Goo chest- possibly full of human bits? Corpse in a trunk is a pretty common trope

Jello on the shelves of Slime’s room

Same picture that was on the fridge is in a frame on the table

Ranboo looks at the mirror the same way twice, reinforcing the NPC vibes

Another false choice- the story only progresses if you go to sleep. Talking to Sneeg only gets some more NPC dialogue. Most of sneeg’s other dialogue sounds genuine, so this is strange.

Sneeg seems unable to move or act while ranboo is asleep

Could the eight hours that passed be literal? If things are obstructed by the mask it very well could be

“You would have known had you been awake!” Before the reveal of the mask making things look different I thought the streams were going to be revealed to be a dream. Clearly it’s not entirely a dream, but this dialogue is still fun. 

SHARK PICKLE LOBSTER TIME!! What would this be in real life? An actual human experiment? Security dogs? Full on hallucination?

This is a pretty funny way to promote the merch honestly lol (referring to ranboo using his merch to trick the thing into cage)

Ranboo seems baffled by his idle fighting animation for a second. He says, “Why am I just standing here? What’s going…” and when the camera pulls back the mask is flickering. 

When Slime sends his ghouls to grab Ranboo I believe he tries to move out of the way. They kind of jerk a bit, like they're trying to move their feet, before saying, “Why can’t I just- get out of here? I just need to get out of here-” The mask is once again flickering during this

After the fight the mask starts flickering a LOT, plus the other lights in the cabin. Tv comes back on. 

The TV man is named Hetch? He says, “My name is-” I think he says Hetch? Unsure

Mans gets drugged up at the end, rip

[ruewrote]

𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑦.

PAIRING: peter parker x fem!reader WARNINGS: strong language GENRE: idk SONG INSPIRATION: talking body by tove lo WORD COUNT: 738

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you and peter had been laying in his bed for the most part of being at his house. 

rewatching star wars, him telling you the most interesting parts, but as much as you were listening, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that your face was pressed against his pecs.

occasionally glancing up as he speaks down towards you, trying to keep a good poker face, but were most definitely freaking out on the inside.

pete sat up a little bit which made you pull away a little bit making you feel a bit disappointed.

“y/n! you there dude?” he chuckled whilst waving his hand in your face. snapping you back into reality as if you weren’t just fantasying about your best friend’s washboard abs. no, of course not.

“yeah-yeah i’m totally fine!” your words coming out rushed and stuttered as you settled back onto his chest and resumed the episode.

your love for your best friend’s abs were becoming a problem. 

no like seriously!

last week you guys had gym together, you had been holding his feet down as he he did sit ups whilst talking to each other, but you kept spacing out since his abs were poking through his shirt each time he sat up.

trying to look anywhere but him, your eyes locked onto another pair who had caught you in the act. ned. he just smirked at you and then looked back over to his partner and carried on working out.

you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment waiting for the class to be over and hoped that your other best friend wouldn’t open his mouth.

it had been about two weeks since the absolutely soul-destroying moment happened to you in the gym, ned hadn’t said anything about it to peter, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it.

“dude, you have a bad staring problem.” ned laughed at you as you kicked his shin before you shoved your face in your hands as you leant your elbows on the cafeteria table, shaking your head. knowing he would never let you live this down.

“i seriously don’t know what’s wrong with me lately, i had one thought about him and now they won’t stop coming, especially about his abs, like what’s wrong with me?” you fake cried and he just laughed at you.

“wait i have an idea.” ned had called peter over after he had gotten his food, making his way over to you two.

“what are you doing?” you whispered yelled over to him before putting on your best fake smile acting normal.

peter was now standing behind you - raising his eyebrow in confusion.

“can you flex really quick for me?” kind of used to ned geeking out over the fact that he was spiderman didn’t really surprise that he would ask that, sliding his tray onto the table, his hands slowly rolling his sleeves before doing so.

that’s when he did it, this had you floored. the vein in his bicep pulsing, your eyes skimmed over to his forearms which were now even thicker now that the muscles were tensed.

not to mention his abs were blatantly pressed against his white under shirt right in your face, peter had now brought his arms down, sitting beside you and started eating without question. you turned back around to the table before picking at the food on your own plate.

the guys spoke to each other back and forth about some school project that they were working on together. you were quiet trying to process what had just happened, the brunette turned towards you, it was odd for you to be so quiet.

cursing your shortness. your face was always pressed into his torso as you guys shared a hug. that’s when you had acknowledged it every time he’d wrap you up in his arms.

you’d had enough of his oblivious teasing and were going to do something about it, so as he was about to leave you...

“hey pete, can you wait a second i need to see something.” he of course had no problem with agreeing.

that’s when you had grasped the hem of his shirt and raised it, as you expected you were met with rock hard abs, running your hand over them, giving him an approved ‘hm’ and pulling it back down again and sent his confused self home, wondering what the fuck just happened.

© ruewrote.

[meatballsu]

I have rewatched TADC many times recently and I come up with many interesting theories about Ragatha (My favorite) and I think it is great to share them here.

Theory: Ragtha is kinda on Caine’s side, or at least she is the person who always “giving”.

This isn’t intend to propose that Caine and Ragatha are “bad” or something. I’m not sure if anyone is watching the GenV series (Spoilers alert!)

and I think Ragatha is sorta a role like Kate that supports the Caine.

One thing is that when Caine is stopped by Pomni questioning about how do they leave, Ragatha immediately takes the question with a little stuttering opening, like she helps Caine when the AI is malfunctioned.

Another thing is she apologized to Pomni when glitching, says Pomni had a bad day, it looks like Ragatha took the responsibility that she should take care of the newbies.

I also noticed a very interesting detail about Ragatha's motion design. I collected all the clips of she approaching while people remaining steady. You know it usually means this person is a sacrificer in relationships.

Even when she is not in a good mood about Pomni's “abandon” . Ragatha still approaches and stands by her side.

This gives me the feeling that Caine may have demanded or asked her for help to care the new "sucker".

Additionally, the Kaufmo part also striked me a little. (It may turns out to be simply the pilot needs and my overthinking. But consider I have to wait for months to expect a new episode so why not brain storm.)

So Ragatha is the person who promts to check Kaufmo:

Ragatha: Oh, wait, we should go check on Kaufmo. And I'm pretty sure he'd like to meet Pomni.

While Kinger refuses the idea and says:

I think Kaufmo's gone insane. Last time I spoke with him, he was rambling endlessly about some exit.

After they went to the carpet, Ragatha mentioned that:

Well, we usually do, when we first arrive, but after a while you start to realize that you really can't leave and constantly chasing an unattainable goal will start driving you a bit crazy. And eventually you get to asking what the point of anything is and you completely lose sight of who you are and why you're even alive and when you reach your breaking point something really terrible can happen.

When she saw the abstracted Kaufmo and she stuttered that the creature might be the “terrible thing” refered to what she said before.

At this time I think we can assume that:

Ragatha knows the pursuing exits could drive people to the breaking point.

Ragatha knows people who breaks will happen terrible things.

Ragatha knows by Kinger (who is unresponisive but still noticed somthing wrong) that Kaufmo is unstable recently.

Ragatha knows what “abstract” is, and someone( people who came earlier than her or Caine) kept warnig/brainwashing her that “ Don’t overthink about exist or terrible thing gonna happen”.

Why Ragatha wants to take Pomni to go check on Kaufmo even she knows he is in a unstable situation?

I think it can be explained that:

She wants to form a stonger colleague relationship with Pomni by taking her to meet the used-to-be-frindely Kaufmo (who liked to tell jokes). or—

She wants to warn Pomni by letting her see “the terrible thing” to stop her from thinking about exit.

By going through all this points, I feel that Ragatha is the most positive on the concept about “No exist”. It looks like she tries hard to prove that there is no way out.

This point is also supported by Caine. And Ragatha hints in a non-obvious way through the pilot that Caine treats them with good intention:

The official site introduces the series with:

So nevertheless, I think Ragatha is still a trapped victim, and the pilot seems to show that she grows a bit Stockholm syndrome and stands by Caine’s side to defend her sanity. That's why she is described as the sweetest optimist.

ps:

I find Jax's different attitude is intersting when Ragatha and Kinger mentioned their daily routine:

Jax didn't comment on Ragatha explaining their useless sleep routine.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

so, i started writing this fic, and i think i'm going to continue it, but i would love to get some reactions to the idea i had so much fun adapting a romcom to the marauders in my 10 things i hate about you fic, then i was rewatching life as we know it for the first time in years and was surprisingly still into it and thought it could be a fun one cos of some of the parallels, so here is the set up:

in an au where voldy is destroyed, sirius never sent to azkaban, and reader and sirius have to raise harry together after james and lily die even though they hate each other... initially ofc

pairing: Sirius Black x reader word count: 1.9k

You’re surprised to hear a knock at your door this late. Exhausted after another Order mission, you resent whoever is on the other side of it. When you open it, lowering your ready wand just behind the door with an exasperated sigh, the feeling heightens. 

“What the hell do you want?” you ask a smirking Sirius Black leaning on your doorframe. 

“What kind of a greeting is that, love?” he retorts seemingly unfazed.

You say nothing, glare harder. 

He rolls his eyes and begins, “Dumbledore wants you to tell me about your mission. He has something he wants me to do soon — won’t tell me what exactly yet, you know how he is — and he thinks whatever intel your mission provided will be relevant.” 

“Can’t it wait till tomorrow? I’m exhausted, Black.” 

“He told me to come tonight,” he says firmly, shrugging. “Look, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be here, but there are more important things right now than resting” — he gestures to you — “or keeping good company,” he finishes, gesturing at himself.

“Oh I’m bad company? Have you met yourself? And you’re one to talk about important things, Black. All you ever do is joke around. And —” you go to continue, but he cuts you off, gently pushing his way past you and into your flat.

“Choose a line of attack, L/N. You’re rambling.”

You groan but follow him into your living room. He’s making himself comfortable, putting his boots up on your coffee table to settle in. 

“Fucking hell, Black,” you whine as you kick his legs off. “I know there’s a war going on, but I’d prefer for my home not to become a pig sty, thank you.” 

“Leave it to you to worry about shit like this now,” he sighs, rolling his eyes at you for the second time in mere minutes.

His critical comments are nothing new. The two of you had gotten into it over nothing since your school days, your best friends eventually getting together doing nothing to make you hate each other less. Lily had been your best friend since first year, James his. 

With your current exhaustion, even this little comment had you practically seething. Knowing him, though, you knew anything you said back would just give him more ammunition to mock you somehow. So, you just stood and stared angrily at him. 

“Well?” he looks at you infuriatingly nonchalantly. “The faster we do this, the faster I’m out of here.” 

“Fine.” You sit next to him begrudgingly and relate the events of the last few days to him, falling into “official” mode the only thing that made dealing with Sirius Black any easier.

~

This message wasn’t right. There was no possible way it was right. It had to be wrong. A mistake. A trap. A cruel joke. Anything but the truth.

You’re standing there, staring at the spot where a fellow Order member’s Patronus has just vanished after delivering its message to you. Your jaw is slack, your eyes wide and quickly brimming with tears. Tears at the mere idea that your best friend and her husband were dead, not the reality. It couldn’t be reality. 

After what might have been several minutes, though your mind is stuck, your body moves to action and heads immediately to Order headquarters. 

When you get there, you’re surprised at how many people are here. Such gatherings are usually reserved for the most important of meetings only; it’s too dangerous to have so many members together in any one place, lest the enemy find out and root out what little resistance remains. 

Oddly enough, it’s in crowds like this that you most notice the absent. You miss them when you are alone, too, of course, but there is something about looking around and not seeing Marlene’s beautiful — even if haunted toward the end — face amongst the others. Not feeling Dorcas’s head coming to rest on your shoulder. Not hearing Alice’s sweet giggle at something Frank has just whispered to her, bringing joy even in the darkest of times. Their voices are devoid of joy now, shut away at St. Mungo’s. 

Lily can’t be gone too. Please not Lily too. 

You’re not sure how to gauge the expressions of your friends and comrades around you. There is such a strange intermingling of emotions lingering on their faces. James and Lily couldn’t be dead if there was a look of such relief on Emmeline’s face, if Elphias was busy chattering away to a few other members. 

But then you see him. You see Sirius Black, and you know.

He’s sitting in a corner. He isn’t crying. He doesn’t look sad. He looks hollow. There aren’t tears in his eyes because his eyes are dead. 

You gravitate toward him without thinking, and when you’re close, his empty eyes meet yours. Sirius stands. You look at each other for a long moment, understanding crossing between you, and without a word from either of you, you embrace.

A few long, shaky breaths later, with Sirius Black’s warm, firm arms around you, you break down. You can’t see his face from where you have yours burrowed into his chest, but his arms tighten around you as your sobs shake your whole body. He holds you through the entire episode, until your body has drained itself of all the tears it could possibly produce in this moment. Only when you’ve been still for a minute does he loosen his grip, stepping back slightly.

You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, “Both of them?” He just nods. You immediately follow with, “Where’s Harry?” Fear shoots through you at the thought, but before you lose yourself in it, Sirius grabs your shoulders and says, “Harry’s fine.” Another bout of fear oozes through your body, but this one is slower, eerier. It takes you a moment to discern its cause: it’s Sirius’s voice. It’s never sounded like this before, and you hear in its dullness a pain you’d think unimaginable if you weren’t feeling it too. 

You nod slowly and ask where your godson is. Sirius tells you he’s with Remus. 

“What’s going to happen to him?” you whisper. 

“I don’t know,” he responds. “Dumbledore said he’d talk to us once we were both here.” 

~ 

It’s much later in the night, almost morning you reckon, when you find yourself and Sirius sitting across from Dumbledore, finally alone. He’d had to handle a million and one things already, the scope of the night’s events incomprehensible to your grief-stricken mind. 

Dumbledore doesn’t wait at all before saying, “I am truly sorry for the loss you both have experienced tonight and will continue to experience for the rest of your lives. The loss of someone so close is a loss from which one never truly recovers.” 

You both nod, saying nothing, and he continues. 

“I’m certain both of your main concern at this point is Harry. Firstly, let me provide you the comfort of informing you Harry is perfectly safe. How exactly, none of us know, and perhaps will never know. But young Harry survived Voldemort’s attack tonight, and somehow destroyed him in the process. Harry is currently with Mr. Lupin, but you can sort for yourselves how you wish to go about the transition in the following days. I have not spoken to either of you about it personally, but I imagine, given the arrangement, that you will be moving into the Potter’s home in Godric’s Hollow?”

You’re sure your face betrays your utter confusion, and on instinct, you look to Sirius for some sort of clarification. The look on his face tells you he’s as lost as you are. 

“Arrangement, sir?” you finally manage after some awkward silence.

“Yes. It was Lily and James’s wish that in the event of their deaths, Harry should be raised by his godparents.” He looks between you and Sirius. “You, of course.” 

A pregnant beat. 

“I’m sorry, what? ‘You’ as in who? ‘You’ as in me? Or him? Not ‘you’ as in us?” you ramble. 

“‘You’ as in both of you, yes. You and Mr. Black.” You give a mirthless chuckle. 

“There must be some kind of misunderstanding, sir. We,” you gesture unnecessarily aggressively between you and the man sitting next to you, “are not together. We’re not a couple; we’re not even friends; how are we supposed to raise Harry together?” 

“There is no misunderstanding. And I do feel the need to add that this is in fact one consideration in bestowing — and accepting — the role of a godparent, I’m sure you know.”

You turn toward Sirius, who is just sitting there completely dumbstruck. You smack his chest and urge, “Say something, for Godric’s sake.” 

“Ummm… I… Well… I… She…She…,” he looks to you briefly, “I and… and she… I and she… she and I —” He can’t string even a phrase together, and Dumbledore gently raising a hand mercifully puts an immediate stop to his ridiculous attempt.

“It is unfortunate that your friends did not discuss this decision with you before its effect was rendered necessary. I imagine they dreaded such a conversation and suspect they never found it the ‘right’ time. However, I am certain it was what they wanted. After all, it was at my behest that they made a decision at all. Few of us ever want to think about our own deaths, but when I realized what danger the Potters were in, I knew it was a necessary consideration. I am devastated to have been proven correct.” Dumbledore was always calm and collected, but you know him well enough to know he meant those words.

“If you choose to reject this arrangement, we can see about other options. Though, as I have said, it would be going against his parents’ wishes. There is of course his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys I believe they are called. Alternatively, there are orphanages for such occasions, but they are dreadful places, and I would wish that fate upon no child, especially if he could be raised with family.” 

“The Dursleys aren’t his family,” you say immediately, a strength to your voice that had not been there in the entire conversation thus far. Dumbledore looks at you. “They’re not, sir. I’ve met them. They’re horrid people. They hate wizards and witches, were terribly cruel to Lily. I can’t imagine how they’d treat her wizard son.” You grimace at the thought. “They’re not his family… We are.” This sits heavily in the room for a moment, and it is Sirius who speaks first. 

“We’ll take care of Harry,” he whispers. His voice is quiet but certain. “We’ll figure it out.” He looks to you inquisitively, and you nod. 

“I’m gladdened to hear it,” Dumbledore says. “You don’t have to stay there long term, but I imagine it will be good for Harry to be in a familiar place as he adjusts to such change, so I will have him brought to his house in a few hours. Can you collect yourselves and meet him there?” 

You both nod; he adds a curt, “Good,” and before you know what’s even happened, you’re left sitting in a room with Sirius Black, a man you’d always hated, a man who is suddenly your co-parent to Harry. 

[lightwise]

TBB S3E7 Reactions

Alright, in lieu of an analysis this week, you guys get some extra long reactions from me. Spoilers for Extraction under the cut!

- Of course the operative is still alive after being completely buried by rocks

- You okay there Rexy boy?

- Aww, Crosshair helping him up

- “There’s always another way” feels like foreshadowing

- CX does sound awfully like Tech when he’s grunting. Either that or DBB has only one way of making groaning noises 😂

- The rim lighting in this episode is such a pain for making screenshots but so satisfying for watching

- The modified clone theme when Wolffe lands 😭

- Wolffe was really getting 3PO flashbacks there with that disgusted sigh

- Isn’t Hilo a canon commando?? Or is he from legends?

- I will never get over how realistic light looks in this show

- There’s no way that CX just caught himself with his hands

- “We’re waiting on you” they’re not leaving Crosshair behind this time 🥹

- Lol Batcher. Licking cute clones faces. Always the priority

- How is this CX such a good shot??

- Oh Wolffe definitely has a constant headache. Idk how he’s actually put up with being in the Empire this long.

- This purple atmosphere is so pretty

- “I’m much worse” — SCREAMING. And the little tilt with his helmet to make his point clear? This man can have me however he wants. Anytime, anywhere. Call me, baby (I hope someone laughed at that lol)

- So Hunter does hear the ships. I wonder if his senses are more tuned for mechanical vibrations and animal life than people

- Lol Howzer is this really the time for a heart to heart?

- “Loyalty meant something to me” 🫡

- Lol that TK Trooper sounded like a mid-Atlantic 50s movie star

- How is the operative this nimble? Seems suspicious

- Smoke bombs are CF99s signature

- Interesting that for once the stun bolts are being used ON the Batch instead of by them.

- Wrecker and Batcher are a great team

- Hunter just dropping that TK and then Crosshair taking out their ship. Phew

- Also not suspicious at all that they’ve neutralized all the TKs and left the clone troopers for later.

- How did Crosshair sense the operative coming up behind them?

- RIP Nemec 😓

- “Too bad” 😩😩😩

- Oh Cross, you know you’re not the best at hand to hand combat. This is a very bad idea

- That waterfall is pretty though

- Dear lord why did they have to make these scenes so dark

- Oh fuck. I can’t even tell who threw who off the cliff

- The whole squad going after Crosshair even though he told them to get to the extraction point 😭

- CX obviously knows Crosshair and has beef with him. Again, for the millionth time—WHAT THE HELL DID HEMLOCK DO TO ALL OF THEM

- “You had your chance to be one of us. You chose the wrong side”. Really can’t wait for this to be explained.

- Crosshair’s reflexes are so fast for being all gangly limbs

- Okay I seriously almost had a heart attack here (this is a rewatch so my reactions aren’t immediate but holy cow I almost couldn’t believe what I was seeing watching Crosshair almost drown. Don’t you dare do it Jen!)

- It is v suspicious how fixated on Crosshair CX is even after he’s neutralized him

- Thank GOD for Howzer

- Okay, I can breathe a little again

- That’s…an awfully long fall for someone to survive

- The TBB team took the water scenes from The Crossing in season 2 and said, yeah, how about we just make that a million times better 🤯

- “That’s not Echo”. No, no it is not

- Good to know that Rex is still considered dead by the Empire (although that honestly seems strange that CX in season 2 knew who he was). That’s heartbreaking that Wolffe thought he was dead this whole time though

- Wow. The respect these two men have for each other

- “Oh I did. Lost a lot of good men that day” *cries in TCW season 7*

- Idk how Rex keeps going honestly

- His voice may be gentle but his face means BUSINESS

- Rex 🤝 Omega - believing the power of friendship can save anyone and anything they come across

- Fuck your orders Wolffe

- “I’ll make sure you’re given a fair trial” you really have no idea who you work for Wolffe do you

- Hunter being willing to stand down when Rex asks him to

- “I know you. As your brother, I’m asking you to do the right thing” the brotherly reunions this season are just paralleling all over the place

- Gregor the handsome fellow that you are. I swear his pauldrons get bigger every time we see him

- “Let my people go” the Exodus vibes are strong here too

- Guess we’re gonna be finding out what makes this CX so special. Still can’t believe he survived.

- Rex just lost almost all of his men again 😣😭

- The sheer respect and care that Hunter and Rex have for each other. The hand on the shoulder. The losses that tie them together. The worry and earnestness in Hunter’s face and tone when he tells Rex he can’t win. He doesn’t emote this much to people he doesn’t consider family.

- The ways Hunter still is hesitant to do anything but run and hide, and Rex still can’t give up. Not quite yet.

- How Hunter won’t be able to either until they know what is really going on with Omega.

[ghosts-of-love]

My thoughts about the Captain (and especially the scenes in episode 5) under the cut. Not spoiler-free, obviously. it's also...over 1000 words

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about the way his story was handled. I’ve never been a Havers girlie and to an extent I’m still not, for reasons I would probably have to explain in a different post. I’ve always known the Captain loved Havers, but I will admit that I did always think it was quite one-sided and, given what we were shown in Redding Weddy, I had previously thought that the Captain didn’t know he loved Havers until after his death.

I didn’t mind being proven wrong about that. There was always the chance that we would be given more information about the Captain’s life that would make me rethink things. I suppose I would now see Redding Weddy less as the Captain realising his feelings for Havers too late, and more him coming to terms with it on another level. Or even just realising that you don’t have to bury everything, some emotions and memories can be brought to the forefront and considered in a healthy way.

I still didn’t get the impression that they were ever together. I think there’s a whole depth to the relationship that we were never privy to. A lot unsaid between them and the audience but also between each other. More could always be revealed in the Ghosts Book that’s coming out soon though.

There could have been mutual feelings and love and even an actual romantic relationship there but I personally believe that the raw desperation in the Captain fighting his way into the event shows that they were not in contact (eg. writing letters to each other) in the way that two people in a secret relationship might have been.

I think that they were something that ‘could have been’. They were each other’s ‘what ifs’. If it weren’t war time, if Havers (sorry, Anthony) hadn’t gone to the front, if it weren’t quite literally illegal.

Or maybe it wasn’t even mutual. I find it hard to parse Havers’ expression. His ‘I know’ isn’t even an agreement or a confession, so much as it is an acknowledgment that he understands the Captain’s feelings, even if they’re not reciprocated.

And the Captain says ‘I had to find you’. It was a desire to know he’s alive. To know he survived. He may as well have said “I had to see you in the flesh”.

I don’t think they were together back then. I think they could have both wanted to be. I think they could have ended up together in the future if the Captain hadn’t died. If he had just waited and found a way to reach out to him a different way.

I didn’t have any problems with any of that bit actually. I thought it was beautifully acted by Ben – I could feel everything so deeply. The panic of it all. The desperation. The deep yearning to get closer to Havers, however possible.

My one gripe (which is perhaps becoming less of a gripe as time passes, but might resurface when I rewatch) was actually with what happened afterwards – the apparent lack of reaction to the story by the ghosts. Or at least, the lack of time dedicated to their reactions. He didn’t say the words aloud, and neither did they.

I flip-flop between being annoyed and thinking it works, somehow. I suppose we get to fill in the gaps ourselves – there’s no, ‘he wouldn’t have said it like that’ arguments because we don’t know what he said, we just know the bare bones of what he revealed.

And they all knew anyway.

I enjoyed (you get what I mean) the mirroring of of his stuttering in season 4 ‘I – I -’. Maybe there wasn’t anything to merit sharing with the group then because he lost his nerve but also because he knew they all knew, even if he couldn’t say it aloud. And with Havers – he can’t get the words out. That doesn’t matter. Havers knew too.

It would have been disappointing to me if they’d joked or said ‘we knew’. It would have detracted from the importance, I think. I would have felt the same if they’d fumbled around to say something he didn’t actually need to hear. For example. I don’t think he actually needed anyone to tell him that ‘it’s okay to be gay’. He’s known this for years by this point, since Sam and Claire’s wedding.

But what did he need to hear?

The man who survived the war but saw no action, who sneaked into a ‘decorated officer’s only’ celebration, who crawled through a window, who stole someone’s medals – just to find, not even necessarily talk to the man he loves – the man who died of a heart attack after the war was won.

He needed to hear that he’s brave. And that’s what he’s told, and by Fanny no less (I don’t have the power to unpack all of the meanings behind that; their friendship, her previous attitudes, her husband). I don’t think anything else they could have said would have sat right with me. Considering it was a group setting, I think it was done under the right conditions – i.e. he wasn’t put on the spot like in season 4, he made the decision to say something himself, he didn’t want to move on still regretting, still believing he wasn’t brave, still thinking he’d done something terrible. I think them telling him he was brave – and all being in agreement, all letting him get his story out with no interruptions too, unlike with Thomas, Kitty, Humphrey talking about their deaths/Kitty’s ball – demonstrated a level of attention and respect they don’t normally give to each other too.

I just wish there had been a bit more. Just something. But I can’t even figure out what it is that I wanted them to say in addition, that’s the funny thing!

I suppose I had also hoped that Alison might be there when he finally admitted something about his life/sexuality. She was the one who introduced him to the idea that homosexuality is legal now and specifically welcome in Button House, after all. I think he deserved to feel that she was proud of him. But maybe she was the one who gave him the strength in season 4 to know he wanted to wait until he was ready.

But also, the knowledge that Ben has had this planned in his head from the beginning comforts me, as does the fact that he has always tried to handle the Captain’s story/arc with respect and dignity (as much as these ghosts are ever given, you know?).

Those are my thoughts, slightly untangled but still not exactly coherent. I’d love to hear what you all think too!

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 1]

Much more recently written fanfic I started to distract myself from the "mild" trauma of Season 2 finale based on ideas that wouldn't work for "Rough Stuff". This fic is absolutely RIFE with my personal headcanons. Clones deserved so much better, and I will be a giant mess when I get to Pong Krell in TWC as I have since started rewatching it.

Warnings & Information: Intended audience is 13+, 18 if you squint. Hurt+comfort material primarily; there is still a fair amount of angst, fluff, and all the good stuff. Reader has she/her pronouns. We really like italics in this house. Peep this for funsies for why I decide to use Mando'a. By no means comprehensive, in no particular order there will be: Mild injury description + care, blood, vague medical terminology (read as: pretending to understand medical stuff), use of restraints, needles (autoinjectors), near-death(s), nausea and non-descriptive mentions of vomit, Star Wars swearing, drugs (both medical and recreational references), minor adult themes + implications, avoidant behaviors, trickery and light mean teasing in the forms of siblings and crushes. 

Series-inaccurate allusions to Crosshair never leaving Bad Batch post Order 66 execution [because while this is an AU fic, I am also very much an Avoidant Mess™], Batchers never meet Cid, fair chance of misremembering any referenced events from TCW series. Series accurate allusions and references to canon violence (AKA: literal war crimes, weapon injuries, etcetera).  

Word-count: 4,637

She couldn't remember the last time she had a really, really bad day outside of her medical clinic. There was a tip-off that an abandoned medical center on a neighboring mining planet within the system had supplies too tantalizing to ignore. Valuable paraphernalia that was being phased out by this emerging Empire, ripe for the taking. Did the mining company really have to build this settlement on the steepest face of the mountain? No, they probably didn't realize how unstable, unsafe and ultimately unsuitable this location was while they riddled the inside of the mountain with tunnels as they harvested precious ore and minerals. This was a boomtown and it had completed two of the three strikes typical of such: strike it rich, strike it fast, strike it down. The people living and working here had to abandon it in a hurry before they demoed the place. This mining company hadn't done their proper research and now the shells of their temporary structures were all that remained. 

But a scrappy little scavenger had found the medical center was still fairly flush with supplies and let the first medic who was willing to help them with their injuries know about the score. 'It'll be dangerous. If you're going, tell a friend so they know to come looking for you if you don't get back after a certain time. But these items are pre-Empire, they aren't making them like that anymore, so you'll want these. Trust me. I think you'll find them worth the risk of a rock slide or two.' 

It. Was. Not. Not really, anyways.

She was just glad to be home now. Put the day behind her. No more rock slides. No more rusted shells of buildings that made for excellent deathtraps. No more falling halfway down the mountain she climbed up in the descent to her ship in the foothills and losing almost every last med supply she came with after slipping on a patch of loose, fine-grain sand just after navigating the maze of the medical center. She had to hobble down the rest of the mountain with nothing to clean out the open wounds and prayed to everything and anything that she didn't contract something that had leached into the rock as the by-products of mining and refinery. She had to stumble into her ship and send a message to her back-up at home that she was 'hurt pretty kriffing bad' but alive and would be back planet-side after dinner; don't wait up for me, I'm too damn tired to swing by after all. Tell the others I'm sorry.

Her instructors in med school would be having a conniption if they saw the way she had tended her wounds so lazily and would never let her hear the end of it for the juvenile, sloppy attempt to bandage the laceration on her dominant arm, but she was too tired to care. (But if she ever saw that scavenger again, she'd kill them for failing to mention several things. The collapsing roof in the west stock room, for starters.) She'd deal with it all properly in the morning. She just wanted to sleep after sucking down two tubes of nutrient paste and a mixed handful of painkillers and antibiotics to ward away pain and infection.

She picked up her datapad one last time and hissed a deliberate dictation into the mic after tugging the knot to the wrapping one last time for good measure. "I'll deal with that bantha fodder in the morning… Home safe. Going to bed. Goodnight." 

She'd accidentally sent it to the wider group beyond the singular contact when five messages popped up in short succession. 

Glad you're home safe. Sleep well, kid. 

likewise

GOODNIGHT!:)

Yes, goodnight. 

We'll see you in the morning, burc'ya. 

Hopefully she'd feel well-rested with the sunrise. Crawling into her bed, she dropped heavily on her side and clutched a well worn Tooka doll in her favorite colors named after her very first childhood pet to her chest as she drew the covers up over her shoulders. Maker, she was so tired. It wouldn't take long before sleep came for her, feeling the first beckoning pulls on her eyelids after just a few moments. 

Her comms gave a harsh screech, jolting her awake in her bed. Just when she had drifted off… This better be important. An actual karking emergency. Someone who had her personal frequency had better be dying if they were contacting her. "What."

There was a lot of shuffling and keypad beeping on the other end of the comms channel, but no one spoke right away. Just when she was about to either call out a hello? or simply disconnect her comlink, she heard someone speak up. Clone Sergeant Hunter. "Tech is this really necessary to keep the-"

"If we want an accurate oral temperature, yes." 

There was a groan over the channel, then the sharp rustle as the comms got bumped or adjusted in Hunter's hand. "Well the longer I have it in my mouth the closer I feel to gaggin-"

She shot upright in her bunk, slightly grossed out and confused all at once. "What the kriff are you-!?"

The two Clones on the other end of the comlink gave their own startled shouts, realizing they had a disembodied voice suddenly joining their company. "[____]! How-?" 

She was quick to cut Tech off, pulling the comlink closer to her face to amplify her furious tone of voice. "Did one of you seriously call me - in the middle of a medical check - when I'm trying to sleep!" 

"Sorry, [____]." Hunter mumbled shamefully. "Must have switched on my comlink by mistake… Didn't mean to disturb you when I know you've had a hard day." What an understatement, Hunter. The impulsive venom in her mouth was hard to hold back, encouraged by her frustrations and discomforts bubbling over. "Hard day made harder thanks to you." She regretted it in a heartbeat. Thank the Maker the enhanced Clone wasn't in the room with her; he'd probably have been able to hear the way it skipped a beat if he was able to sense the beginnings of seismic activity, smell the way she felt her body begin to shiver in a forming, cold stress-sweat as the shame of her anger washed over her. 

"You're right: let me make it up to you." 

She was told to come over to the Batch's housing. Crosshair opened the blastdoor for her before she even had a chance to knock to avoid waking anyone sleeping if she used the buzzer. "He'll be in the main area."

"What, no "Hello, taking care of yourself like I told you to?" tonight, Cross? Even as a joke, after the day I've been having, to lighten the mood?" 

There was a half-hearted scoff (or maybe that was a soft laugh) from the Clone at this."That's more Wrecker's thing," Cross drawled in a casual voice around a toothpick, sidestepping to let her squeeze inside, "and I'm not really interested in pretending I can't see that you are not taking care of yourself."

"No, of course not Mr. Sharp-eyed, Snarky Sniper. 'Cause I fall down the mountains of abandoned mining settlements for kriffing fun." 

If Cross was phased by the uncharacteristic anger of the medic tonight, he didn't really show it. Just a little twitching pull of his upper lip on one side and half-lidded eyes that betrayed a bit of amusement and disappointment. "Mmp. C'mon, kid. I'll see if I can't find a half-decent ration bar somewhere around here for you." 

"Not hungry, Cr-"

"Don't care." He interrupted in a brusque tone, not giving her the opportunity for excuses. Crosshair was the kinda guy who didn't like excuses, either in giving or getting, and could be quick to shut that kriff down. It was refreshing sometimes, but tonight it was just another mild annoyance of [____]'s day. 

Whatever. She was going to go find Hunter where Cross said he'd be rather than waiting around in the entryway forever. "Skipping meals again, are we burc'ya?" As a medic, she often missed out on a meal or two while she was aiding the galaxy's sick and injured, and the unintentional habit carried over when she wasn't at the clinic. Something that made her friends fret over her like this. "For once I had all three meals. Only thing I swear went right today…" There was a pause as the medic heard a comment from the small kitchen on the left from the common room and she added with a gentle sigh, "aside from not breaking any bones during that nasty fall, too I guess." 

Hunter looked relieved and genuinely proud of her, sincerely surprised she wasn't tired and hungry like many nights in the past. Crosshair just turned on his heel back into the kitchen unit without breaking his stride, after a little shuffling around in the cabinets [____] could hear the sink running. "Well that's… good! Proud of you, kid." 

"...Than-"

Cross set the glass of water he'd filled for her in lieu of the ration bar down on a low table in the common room in the middle of the light conversation she was having with Hunter. "Here. I'll leave you two to it. Goodnight."

"U-um, thanks, Cross. Goodnight…" Cross nodded nonchalantly at her, next turning to his brother, who was quick to avoid his eyes before Crosshair just turned and left the two of them. Leave you two to it, what did he mean by that that had Hunter looking so nervous with a wave of color creeping up his neck from under the collar of a fresh nightshirt? "What's going on, Hunter? Do I need to be worried about something? Something show up on the health check? Do you need some nysillin tea or- s-something?" 

Hunter shook his head, a tender, reassuring (and touched) smile slowly building. You could take the doctor out of the clinic, but you couldn't stop her from thinking about her job. "Nothing's wrong, k'uur... Just thought I was feeling a little under the weather, but I'm perfectly fine. It's nothing more than just making it up to you after waking you. Plus, for once, you won't have to patch your own wounds. Why not have someone take care of you the same way you take care of others?" It was the same thing he'd said to her at the end of their first of many interactions in this seedy little travel-hub. The time she'd undoubtedly saved Crosshair's life after he'd picked up a nasty little parasite while slogging through the swamps of some distant planet. Kashyyyk? It was probably Kashyyyk. 

[____] was in a sour arrangement then with some smugglers with hair-trigger tempers to come and go as they pleased with her small clinic, and these Clones had been kind to remove the problem clientele "with discretion" as a way of paying her back. She'd saved their "stubborn vod". They saved her and now trusted her to treat their injuries no matter the cause, turning up at odd hours for the oddest of injury or malady. Complete faith in her in a hostile galaxy who now wanted… whatever it is they wanted with these Clones. She didn't ask. She didn't want to know. 

She'd heard the stories from those who fled the war encroaching nearly every part of the galaxy. She'd heard of the war crimes, seen the horror and gore and bloodshed step into at least two of the medical centers she once worked in… known of an Order 66 and what became of much, if not all, of the Jedi… She didn't want to know. They often didn't want to tell, beyond giving vague recollections when they were making arrangements for short-term prescriptions for sleeping supplements with the medic when the nightmares were overwhelming. 

Much like scouting the abandoned medical facility in an old mining boomtown for various 'sillin supplies, life seldom goes the way you wish. 

"C'mere, ad'ika. Let's get you patched up." He patted the space beside him on the couch in invitation, pulling a medkit closer with the other hand all while looking at her with the same softness he often reserved for his sister. When [____] first met him, she could have sworn Omega was his daughter. "Unless you're not okay with that." Hunter added, addressing her hesitation he could hear in the rhythm of her pulse, her heart. 

"I'm fine with it… just really tired and brain's kinda closing shop for the night. Sorry." Taking the seat indicated, [____] sunk back into the furniture, sighing. She didn't want to bring up why she was hesitating on him. He carried enough guilt as a participant in the old GAR… Hunter broke the seal on the new packet of medical tools, prepping everything he thought he'd need. "Don't be, ad'ika. Now, have you taken something for the pain already?" 

"Rhetorical question for a medic, don't you think?" The tired, teasing question was met with a single chuckle. He knew she would have, he was just making small talk. "Anything else? Ask me if I'm taking any other kind of stim packs, or maybe I should lie about eating all my recommended fruits and vegetables?" It was a laugh from Hunter this time, deep and hearty and genuine from his chest. 

"Are you?" Picking up a pre-moistened cleaning wipe from the little packet within the medkit, Hunter removed the sloppy wrappings around her dominant arm that [____] had applied before trying to call it a day and properly deal with everything in the morning. Dried smears of red lay underneath the gauze, something that made Hunter's gut drop slightly. Either she had done an uncharacteristically poor job cleaning her injuries, or these were more intensive than believed and they were slow-bleeders that hadn't scabbed over completely. 

"Tck…Can't say I'm any better than most of my patients, if I'm honest." Hunter hummed slightly, gingerly blotting along the length of the mild laceration. It had to have been an unpleasant injury after losing all her emergency supplies and nothing to ease it right away until she stumbled back to her ship. It looked fairly deep to him, but couldn't be certain. "Mmh! That stings." 

"'It's supposed to, little guy. Means it's working.' I swear Cross could have killed you with a look if the parasite wasn't actively killing him over being called a little guy like he was a kid." 

"Ha-ha. Very funny, Tech." [____] half-heartedly mocked Hunter's sharp recollection of their first encounter, trying to stifle a coming yawn. That time felt so long ago now; longer than it actually was. "I was only trying to keep him calm and comfortable. I see a lot of children at my clinic so it's a habit I've de-developed… excuse me, sorry about that. People… don't exactly love doctors." 

Hunter paused mid-blot, giving her a firm look to show her he was serious. Something in Hunter didn't like the way she'd said it, it didn't sit right with him. "Nonsense, cyar'ika. People love doctors; they just don't love going to them. Big difference. Trust me." Trust me like I trust you he wanted to say. He wouldn't. He believed it was mutually understood, no need for explicitly stating so (partly an old habit in thanks to how he communicated with many a vod during the war). "People…" Hunter tried further explaining, leaving out the "like us" he again believed didn't need to be said "...might be embarrassed, or fearful, or worried about going to the medic, but they understand they need to go because the medics will be able to make them better. They don't hate the doctor; they hate the doctor's office…" Hunter paused, digesting his own words with a questioning expression as he set aside the pre-moistened wipe, now soiled. "Now of course I think I just sound like I'm condescendingly explaining your own job to you." 

"Heh. Don't worry about it. Too tired to care," the weary medic offered with a reassuring smile, leaning into the backrest of the couch with a slowing blink-rate. "I'm just more concerned about staying awake, while I'm the patient for once, for you." 

For you. Something about it was unintentionally sweet to Hunter and made something within him flutter for a moment. That was happening a lot lately, every time he thought of her. He kept chalking it up to his enhancements and memories of the Kaminoans testing him and the others that remained of the experimental unit, the sharp sterility of antiseptic that lingered in her clinic and her clothing and her hair that sometimes turned his stomach, or simply a disconnected unfamiliarity with those who were not Clones… though, while perhaps he never felt truly connected with them and the way some called them the 'Sad Batch' (or called Omega a lab scabber) when they thought they could get away with it, they had still been his brothers in arms in the war.

A war they were still running from. One they nearly lost Crosshair to after 'things went screwy on Kaller' as Wrecker put it once. What an understatement… if Hunter hadn't been so insistent with the Shock Troopers down in the brig that the Batch stayed together to the point that they tased Hunter to shut him up instead of extracting Cross, then Crosshair likely would have been siphoned off to some corner of Tipoca City and had the activation of his inhibitor chip nudged along into unpleasant possibilities Hunter had nightmares about in addition to so many things he'd seen… done, during the Clone Wars. It'd been difficult, and he'd hated part of himself for it, but as they made their initial escape from Kamino, he threatened to stun Crosshair if he didn't kriffing shut up about following orders they didn't even understand for five minutes! so hard he wouldn't wake up until they reached the next star system. 

There had been so much bickering. They still bickered even after Captain Rex got in touch with them, somehow, after they left Saleucami visiting the Lawquane family (which had been tricky and Tech worked the loophole that Crosshair could not report Cut for desertion because it had been the GAR when he went AWOL and now it no longer existed, it was the Empire now, right? half to death before Crosshair reluctantly let it be), and they got their chips removed in the rusted out shell of a Venator on Bracca and had been lured into a trap set by Tarkin back on Kamino. Because if Tarkin could not have this SpecOps force, nobody in the galaxy could; he'd aimed to wipe them out and they'd narrowly avoided being swallowed in the eternal seas of the closest thing they had to a homeworld. 

It took a long time for the bickering to stop. They were at their throats for a while still until… Crosshair had gotten really, really sick. 

That's what led to this friendship with a medic who had been willing to help them nearly a year ago. Though lately, it was feeling… different.

"Hey…" [____] broke the building silence while Hunter had been searching for a bacta patch, and Hunter initially worried he'd done something to tip her off to the personal burdens, the memories, he shouldered. "...weird question for ya, if that's okay." 

"How weird?" Hunter tried, careful not to let the hesitancy and budding anxieties show in his voice. There's the karking things. He'd probably need a couple of them to make sure he had it covered so it would heal up nicely, quickly.

"Oh, not very. I just wanna pick your brain a bit." 

Ah. Just curiosity. He affixed the first patch over the first half of the laceration, careful not to prod the bruised flesh with unnecessary pressure. "Alright, pick away." 

"What is… your favorite memory? When you're having a bad day… what's the thing you think about that always cheers you up?"

"Heh… your day was really that bad that you're looking for advice from a soldier, doc?" Hunter teased, applying a second patch over the laceration. He wasn't sure what he could truthfully answer with while he was carefully measuring out a length of sterile gauze to hold the patches in place on her dominant arm, there being too many little, fleeting happy moments rather than significant memories to spin some story from. But he'd try. "I guess for me… it's less what I think of and more of what I do after a bad mission. Clean my gear. Tidy up my rack. Buff out my helmet-" 

The medic smirked, a solitary, quiet laugh interrupting Hunter's train of thought. 

Oh, Maker… he'd forgotten the suggestive context behind the phrase she often heard in the infancy of her profession in the midst of the Clone Wars. He'd heard she'd get the stray Clone on occasion at the large health center she was employed at once on a different planet but didn't know how much truth there was to it. "K'uur: that was not a euphemism." 

That was met with a nervous giggle that made his stomach flutter. "S-sorry; old habits, and a non-professional setting where I can actually laugh." [____] offered meekly, face flushing with color while he wound the wrapping around her forearm. "C-continue, Hunter, please. 'Buff out your helmet' and...?" The unspoken what else on her tongue was permission enough to show she was serious about him continuing. 

"And… check in with the others, I suppose. Make sure that everyone is okay. Spend time with them. Strengthen personal bonds."

A lot like what the two of them were doing now, he supposed. The unintentional check in. Taking care of her injuries while they sat side by side in the common room as the rest of the Batch were sleeping. Except maybe for Tech who often tinkered away on his datapad or the desk he'd squeezed into the room he shared with Wrecker (who wasn't bothered by a roommate with a propensity to dink around with some little gadget or piece of equipment when he was sleeping or resting) at these hours. Or Crosshair, who was often awake and asleep around the same times Hunter was, since they'd have muffled "conversations" through the walls when neither could sleep on occasion. But all was relatively still and quiet in each of his brother's rooms, and the steady rumble of the noise machine in Omega's room meant his sister was asleep. 

Drumming rain and swirling waves. The perpetual ambiance of Kamino. He hoped the little machine replicating the soundscape engrained in her memories wouldn't cause her to dream of the Venator class ships bombing the cloning facilities tonight… 

While Hunter had been lost in his senses, his worries, the medic had been busy mulling over his words. There was a ghost of a smile taking the place of the pained frown she previously bore. "That all sounds… really nice."

The last injury tended to, Hunter set everything aside and gave [____]'s shoulder a tender double-pat, feeling the tense muscles under his hand as he held his hand there after the friendly gesture. "There you go, ad'ika. All patched up." 

"Thanks, appreciate the help Hunter. Could I… trouble you a little further by crashing here for the night? I don't think I'm in a fit state to get back home around now. Far, far too tired." It was definitely not a safe time for a woman to be walking by herself without a blaster, nevermind a tired, injured woman who'd been an invaluable friend to Clone Force 99. He'd never have sent her home to begin with, giving how deeply her chin dipped into her chest with fatigue. "No trouble at all; you're welcome to take my bed, if you want." Hunter offered, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze. He'd sleep out here in the common room so none of his brothers would get any funny ideas if both he and the medic emerged from the smallest of all the bedrooms in the housing together. 

Why the Sith's hells did he just think that?

[____] winced in mild complaint, laugh laced with pain. "Ow, that's quite a grip there, soldier!" 

"Sorry," he apologized, "didn't realize how hard it'd be. You carry a lot of stress and tension in your shoulders, ad'ika… I can feel how stiff your muscles are. I… have some experience with providing some relief for that, thanks to all the practice I've had with Wrecker and Tech. Tech's posture is a mess-" He rolled the palm of his hand against her shoulder experimentally, gauging the pliability of the tensest muscle, and she leaned into it eagerly with a whimpering 'oh, Maker…!' surprising even herself. Hunter decided he'd stubbornly pretend not to imagine how not-so-innocent the sound was, to keep talking about his brothers and ignore the heat in his lower belly, another flutter of his heart. "Tech spends hours hunched over his datapad, or some little gadget, or spends hours in those rigid crash seats in the Marauder with his muscles wound so tight he's practically locked in place. Wrecker takes such a beating each mission it's just… uh,"

"A w-way of taking care of him afterwards?" She helped him where he faultured. 

"Yeah. That's one part of it. Here, turn so I can get both shoulders." He had her melting under his touch quickly, the practically unhurried worship in this massage he was working into the medic's shoulders, neck, and the dominant arm. The muscles were so stiff and taut under her skin, under his ungloved hands. They were afraid to speak and break the reverence of this moment, the silent work of friend helping friend between each little involuntary sound of great relief or wince of brief pain as each tight, brow-bunching knot slowly surrendered. Her breathing pattern slowed as every minute elapsed between them beyond the gentle moans of relief as Hunter methodically kneaded the muscle free of tension with dexterous fingers. He wouldn't need to dig in so deeply like taking care of Wrecker's messes of well-defined muscle, for which he was grateful, to make any kind of progress, or go so tenderly to start with like he has to for Tech (on occasion) that the goggled Clone sometimes became a little impatient because he wasn't feeling any external relief. He could dip his fingers just a little deeper and just a little shallower, like those perpetual waves of Kamino replicated on Omega's sound machine, as he worked one muscle at a time for the unlikely friend who sat with him on the couch. 

It felt roughly the same to strengthening the bonds of the squad to Hunter, but again there was that fluttering in his heart that suggested this was so very different when he realized that when he moved back to [____]'s neck one last time, at her asking, and planted one of his palms on the opposite side of her face to keep her steadied as he dug little circles around the tight muscles under the base of her skull with his thumb that she took one last deep breath and was soon asleep in half a heart's beat between them. 

Hunter froze as he was, face hot in panic with the reality that he was now entirely supporting, for the moment, a female friend who was upright and asleep in his hands. Not knowing what to do just as the medic became more limp, he effectively locked himself in place when, on reflex, he caught her upper body against his before lowering it into his lap. A move he'd done a hundred times when one of the squad was this close to fainting out in the field.

Oh, you're kidding me… why the kriff did I do that?

[MASTERLIST] [NEXT]

[auspicious-manner]

Inspired by the challengers trailer release, can you write one where Mike is anxious about the trailer for his new movie coming out and the reader calms him down? Thanks!

still upset that we won’t be getting challengers until next year 😭 but blonde mike is so superior omg i can’t wait for that movie to come out

also, i rewatched outer banks and realized that i could probably write for outer banks as well! i’m not sure if it’s something i’d want to focus my page on like mike, djats, newsies, etc, but i’d love to try writing for it! if anyone has any requests for obx stories, i’d love to write for pope, john b, jj, or rafe when i open my requests again :)

female reader x mike faist

warnings: anxiety, panic attack?

mike taglist: @diorgirl444

Breathe

•

you’ve been waiting years for mike to finally become a household name. he became known in the theater world first, and west side story boosted him into a more mainstream audience. but this movie was going to be the one to catapult him into the fame you always knew he was destined to get; he was in a movie with zendaya, one of the biggest stars of this generation.

the morning of the trailer release, you opened your eyes after sleeping in mike’s bed to find mike sitting up at the edge of the bed, looking off into space melancholically.

“mike?” you asked softly, dazed from sleep. you sat up when he didn’t answer, rubbing your hand on his bare back. “mike?”

this time he turned his head to the side to look at you, and you remained behind him, your hands on his back.

“good morning, Y/N,” he asked, putting a lazy kiss on the side of your head. “did you sleep well?”

you nodded. “i did. you?”

mike didn’t react right away, but you could tell the answer was no. he looked into your eyes for a moment before looking down at his hands in his lap.

“are you okay? are you sick or anything?” you questioned, adjusting your body so you were sitting next to him on the bed. you knew this behavior was abnormal for him.

“no, no, it’s not that,” he said, trailing off as he put on a shirt. “i’m fine, i promise.”

you didn’t fully believe him, but you knew it was better to not pressure him to talk. “okay, i understand,” you said gently. you stood up, standing in front of him. “how about i make you a nice breakfast to celebrate the big day?”

you held your hand out in front of you, and he took it, standing up to meet you. he flinched a bit when you mentioned the big day, but he quickly put on a smile. “i’d love that.”

you wanted to treat mike as much as possible today. today, his life and yours would drastically change. it was the trailer release day for mike’s new movie titled challengers. it was going to bring a lot of new attention to mike, and there would be a lot of eyes on him, especially since he’s playing opposite zendaya.

it was clear that something in mike seemed off leading up to the day of the release, but you brushed it off as general nerves. hell, you’d be nervous too if your life and fame was going to change in an instant. you wanted to make him as comfortable as possible, and support him as much as you could.

“how do pancakes sound?” you asked, collecting ingredients from around the kitchen. when there was no reply, you turned around to see mike zoning off, his mind engulfed in thoughts.

“mike?” you asked, him snapping out of his daze.

“what? oh, sorry, pancakes sound good,” he said, forcing a smile.

you continued, frowning. “mike, are you sure you’re fine? you’re acting strange.” you paused, breaking eye contact for a moment before looking at him again. “and please, don’t lie to me.”

he looked like he was debating on speaking. you put down the ingredients in your hands and looked at mike from across the counter, putting your full attention on him. without using words, you were willing him to tell you what was wrong.

he sighed. “i…i’m scared,” mike finally said. his eyes remained down at his cup of coffee.

“and why is that?” you asked, leaning onto the counter. you asked despite already knowing the answer.

he looked up at you, and he clearly knew that you knew the answer. “you do realize everything is going to change after today, right?” mike asked quietly.

you shrugged. “i mean, yeah, but part of our lives will still be the same.”

“but that’s just it, it won’t be the same,” he said, his voice growing slightly louder. “it can’t be the same. there’s going to be more attention on me now, more eyes watching my every move. our every move.”

you knew exactly what he meant. everything would change after today, but there were certainly positives to it.

“well, i know one thing that won’t change,” you stated.

“what?”

you smiled. “us.”

mike finally smiled back. your purposefully cheesy comment didn’t affect him in the way that you wanted. “yeah, i guess so.”

you finished making breakfast, with mike in a slightly better mood than he was before. he remained quiet, however, and it was evident that he still had so much on his mind.

mike had never been good with expressing his emotions to you. he made it his responsibility to keep you happy, and if he was down, he knew you would be too. he knew if he tried to keep a front that he was always okay, you would eventually believe it. but, little did he know that you weren’t as naive as he believed you to be. you saw he was stressed.

after eating, it was getting closer and closer to the release time. it was going live at 11am, and zendaya was planning on posting the trailer to her instagram. it was 10:45am.

you and mike sat down on the couch, your phone in hand. you opened your phone and left it on instagram, planning to refresh the home page when 11 o’clock hit.

mike looked pale. he wouldn’t look you in the eye, and he seemed more tense than ever. you sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few long minutes.

“mike, are-” you began several minutes later before being interrupted suddenly.

“what if this doesn’t go the way we wanted it to?” he asked, not truly looking for an answer from you.

“well, it-” you started again before being interrupted once again.

“in a few minutes, my life will never be the same ever again, Y/N. neither will yours. if this movie doesn’t sell like it should, my career is ruined. if it sells, then i get more jobs, and that’s just more opportunities to potentially fuck up whatever i have going for me. i’m going to be watched at all times, and so will you. one wrong move and it’s all over.”

he was breathing heavily at this point, almost hyperventilating. it looked like he could have a full blown panic attack at any moment.

“i-i don’t want to put you through that,” he said, running a hand through his hair nervously. his voice remained stoic while his body was panicking. “i just… i don’t-”

it was your turn to interrupt him. “hey mike?”

he paused, turning to you confusedly. “yeah?”

“breathe.”

mike froze briefly, and you rested a hand on his back. he kept his gaze focused on your eyes, almost as if just by looking at you, you were anchoring him and keeping his thoughts steady.

you felt as his back slowly rose as he took a deep breath, and you did it with him. you both just gazed at each other and breathed until mike’s demeanor was not one of fear, but calm. full calmness took over him for the first time in who knows how long.

“better?” you asked gently.

he nodded before hugging you. “i’m sorry for acting weird recently. i just got so lost in my thoughts, i couldn’t think straight,” he sheepishly said into your shoulder.

“i don’t blame you, mike. it’s scary, i know.”

you looked down at your phone, which now said 10:59.

“it’s almost time,” you said while sitting up, bringing mike with you. he still seemed nervous, but it was a healthy type of nervous, the kind that feels more like excitement than anxiousness.

he held your hand, and you gave him a reassuring squeeze. when the time on your phone changed to 11am, you breathed in and refreshed your instagram page.

immediately, a new video showed up under zendaya’s account, and you and mike watched the new trailer together, smiling. he was glad to be watching now, and you snuck a glance at him as he watched the trailer. you could tell he was proud of himself.

when it finished, he looked at you, a wide grin on his face.

“i’m so proud of you, mike,” you said, knowing that those words were still an understatement. just to fuel his ego, you paused before adding, “you’re the coolest person i know.”

he laughed and leaned in, kissing you softly. “i’m glad you think so.”

[centralperkchenford]

I’m back with another prompt I thought of while rewatching 🥰

Future Married Chenford + Tim going to Grey (cause he’s basically the station’s dad lol) and telling him Lucy’s pregnant and asking advice cause he’s nervous

(A parallel to when he goes to Grey to say they’re dating 🥹)

Future Married Chenford + Tim going to Grey (cause he’s basically the station’s dad lol) and telling him Lucy’s pregnant and asking advice cause he’s nervous. (A parallel to when he goes to Grey to say they’re dating 🥹)

Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you (And I will hold on to you)

I really liked this one! I tried to parallel it to 5x12 as much as I could 🫶🏻

Tim finds out Lucy’s pregnant on a Wednesday, except neither of them realize that until later. He wakes up and she’s not in their bed. He finds her in the bathroom, kneeling on the ground with her forehead on the toilet. Her hair is tossed over her shoulder. He bends down so he’s at her level, and lifts her head up gently. Her cheeks are tear stained and her eyes are red. He kisses her sweaty forehead and pulls her close to him.

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly. She looks up at him, a single tear on her eyelashes.

“I-I think I have food poisoning.” She whispers. Her head is against his chest and he’s rubbing circles on her back.

“What did you eat that would have given you food poisoning?” He asks softly still rubbing her back.

“I don’t know it could be anything.” She says weakly. “I have had an appetite lately.”

Tim nods and pulls her up and leans her into him. “Do you feel well enough to go into work?” He asks and she starts to nod but then she’s on her knees throwing up in the toilet and Tim has his answer to that.

Lucy stays home that day, and Tim puts crackers and water by her bed along with a can of ginger ale.

He kisses her goodbye and tells her he will call later. He goes through his day worried about his wife and her possible food poisoning.

When he calls at lunch she sounds better but only just. “I’m not sure it’s food poisoning.” She says and his stomach flips. Could it be the flu? Could it be something else that he’s not thinking of?

“What do you think it is?” He asks her, Lucy is silent for a long while.

“I don’t know Tim. But hopefully it’s gone by tomorrow. I hate missing work.” She says mournfully.

Tim hates when she’s not at the station, even if they are in different units he still sees her around the station and he feels at peace when he does.

“I know baby.” He says calmly. “But you need to focus on getting better.” Lucy gasps over the phone line and then lets out a hysterical giggle.

“Oh my god!” She says still giggling. “How the heck did I not think of it before?”

Tim is confused. Think of what? “What are you talking about Lucy?” He asks urgently.

Lucy giggle again. “I have to go babe. I will see you at home.” She says and hangs up the phone before he can get another word in.

Tim goes through the rest of his day.. confused. And anxious. He has no idea what Lucy has figured out but he can’t wait to go home so she can tell him. Whatever it is she figured out.

Tim makes it home earlier that day, his limbs propelling him straight towards Lucy when he gets inside. She’s laying on the couch and grins up at him when she sees him.

“Hi!” She says jumping up and meeting him halfway. “How was your day?” Tim sighs and pulls her down on the couch.

“It seems like you are feeling better.” He comments and she nods a smile on her face.

“I am.” She says but doesn’t say anymore as she reaches for his hand and drags it to her stomach. That should have been his first clue.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” He asks slightly perplexed. Lucy giggles and gets up from her spot.

“I’ll be right back.” She says. He gives her a look and she bends down to kiss him. “I promise baby.”

She heads toward the hallway and comes back not even 30 seconds later holding something behind her back.

He looks at her curiously, a question on his lips before she is placing something in his hands. He looks down at it. A pregnancy test.

It all makes sense now. Lucy’s being sick. Her appetite. She had been tired too lately and they both thought it was from the late shifts she was pulling to make up from when she was on their honeymoon.

“Lucy…” he starts and she giggles again a little like she did on the phone. “We.. are you..?”

She nods with tears burning in her eyes. He stands up and pulls her to him and hugs her tight, his own tears forming. Holy crap they were having a baby!

“How- did you figure it out?” He mumbles into her hair. She pulls back to study him, a smile on her face.

“When we were talking earlier. I was trying to figure out what was wrong but—then you said baby and it just clicked. I ran out and bought a pregnancy test and it was positive.

Tim smiles even bigger if that is possible and pulls her back towards.

“Oh my god Luce.” He mutters. “This is amazing. I can’t believe—” He feels her nod against his shirt.

“I know Tim. You are going to be a great dad.” She says and he pulls her chin up so he can kiss her. And then lowers himself to the ground so he is level with her stomach. He places a soft kiss there and then rises back up. A grin on his face, “I guess we are pretty good at the other stuff.”

She rolls her eyes at him. But he barely notices because he’s kissing her again holding his little family close.

***

They don’t tell anyone for a few week, preferring to keep it a secret. Lucy goes to the doctor’s two weeks after the positive pregnancy test just to confirm she’s actually pregnant. She is. And all the emotions Tim was feeling when he first found out come rushing over him again.

He holds the sonogram picture of his baby, no more than a little blob and stares down at it. His baby. Their baby. Half him. Half Lucy. He loves it so much already and he hasn’t even met them yet.

“When do you want to tell people.” Lucy asks when they climb into his truck. He’s still holding the sonogram like it’s something precious. (It is). He shrugs his shoulders tucking the sonogram picture into his visor. He doesn’t miss Lucy’s soft smile at him. “Whenever you feel comfortable to tell everyone Luce.”

Lucy nods and reaches out to hold his hand. “Let’s wait a little bit more.” She says and he squeezes her hand. Okay.

***

Unfortunately as much as Lucy wants to wait to tell everyone her puking in the station bathroom gives it away.

She’s suppose to be on patrol but instead finds herself crouched over the toilet. She texts Tim to tell him what’s happening and so he goes to Grey’s office as soon as he gets the message.

��Hey. Do you have a second?” He asks him. Grey nods and puts down his pen and motions him in.

“What’s going on?” He asks Tim leaning forward. Tim grips his phone tightly. His eyes darting around the room.

“Lucy is pregnant.” He says quietly. “We found out a few weeks ago.”

Grey nods a small smile twitching on his lips. “I figured as much. Lucy never takes sick days.” Grey says and Tim nods.

“Yeah. She thought it was food poisoning.” He says and Grey nods looking amused.

“I’m guessing she still has morning sickness so that’s why she’s not here right now with you.” Grey says and Tim nods suddenly feeling bad that he’s not with Lucy.

“Well congratulations.” Says Grey. “How are you feeling about this?” Tim sits back in his chair to think about the question. How was he feeling? He is excited. He always wanted to be a dad. And the fact that it was with Lucy made him even more excited. But there is a small part of him, a voice in the back of his head that says he’s going to be a disappointing of a father, he is not meant to be a father much like his own dad.

“I’m excited but nervous.” He admits and Grey nods smiling softly at him.

“It’s okay to be nervous Tim.” He says gently. “Mostly everyone is nervous when they find out they are going to be bringing another human into this world. It doesn’t make you weak or anything. You are going to be a great dad.”

Tim blinks at him and sits back studies his hands. His wedding band on his finger as always, a permanent fixture. Lucy had gotten him one where he could wear it to work.

“You are not your father and you are not your past self. You have changed and grown so much Tim.” Grey says gently. Tim opens his mouth to say something but there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in.” Grey calls. The door opens and Lucy comes in. She’s still dressed in her uniform and her hair is slightly messed up. Tim jumps up as soon as he sees her gesturing her to sit down.

She smiles at him and takes a seat and he sits on the arm of the chair. “You both have changed and grown since I have met you.” Grey says. “I never thought pairing you two up would lead to this.” Tim snorts. “But I do know you two make a great team. Whether it’s riding together or becoming parents. I know this baby will be so loved and cared for.”

“Thank you sir.” Says Lucy smiling up at Tim. He reaches for her hand. Grey nods at her.

“If you ever need anything you know you can come to me.” Grey says looking at them both but his eyes focus in on Tim.

“Thank you sir.” He says. “We appreciate it.” Grey nods at them and then turns to Lucy

“Do you feel well enough to go out on patrol? Or do you need desk duty for awhile?” He asks.

Tim watches as Lucy chews on her bottom lip.

“I’m fine sir. Once I pass the detective’s exam I’ll be at the desk more. Might as well get in as much action as I can.” She says. And Grey nods.

“Okay.” He says. “But I trust you to not push yourself too much.”

Lucy nods and then she stands looking at Tim. He smiles at her and they leave Grey’s office together their fingers brushing.

And then Tim leans over and says quietly. “I can’t wait to raise a baby with you.”

Lucy grins at him. “You are going to be the best daddy Tim. I mean it. You are going to love this baby to the ends of the earth. And I can’t wait to see it.” She says.

“I love you…” he says softly.

And he may still be nervous but Grey is right they do make a great team and this baby is going to be loved no matter what. And he can’t wait.

[ni-kiiiii]

I’m sorry • Lee felix

Angst pt.1 / pt.2

Summary - Felix comes home frustrated and he takes it out on the reader and he as to figure out how to make it up to the reader.

A/n: this is my first story,(what I’m saying is have mercy on me and my writing ) Part 2 will either come later on today or tomorrow. I will never be late to put up at pt2 or a continuation bc it annoys me when other ppl do it to. You can count on me to not leave you high and dry🙏

-use the comment section-if u want

-I hope y’all enjoy💗

-plz reblog

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You were patiently waiting for Felix to get to your guys' shared home. You’ve texted and called but still no reply. Since you had nothing better to do You watched a drama on the couch. Which was a drama you had rewatched repeatedly. it was to the point where you could literally be an actor in it if you wanted to.

While you were watching your drama you hear keys jangling. You knew it was Felix because who else so it be. So you thought running to the door quickly to hug Felix when before he opens it would be a good idea. But you were wrong, when the door opened and you hugged He looked utterly disgusted to see you and your heart shattered into pieces. You have never seen this look of utter disgust from him or anyone matter of fact anyone. You and your negative thoughts never went well so you immediately thought something you do was wrong. make it even worse he shoved you and he has never done anything like that before so that left you shocked. Almost like you got scared.

But not to shocked for you to stand up for yourself. “Felix, what the fuck is with you today,” you said calm but stern trying to hide how broken you were inside from this little incident. Felix inhaled strongly before saying “ Y/n I don’t have time for your shit today, today is not the day.” “Or what you shove me harder?” You scoff. He looks at you with shocked eyes because he never want you to think that he would hurt you in that matter should’ve put his frustration on you. “No, Y/n don’t think like that, I didn’t even mean it like that I’m just frustrated from what happened at work,” he says softly. You stayed silent you wanted him what you were feeling. So when you walked passed him you shoved him the same way he did and slammed and locked you and Felix's shared room door.

You jumped on the bed and l layer in Felix’s spot in the king sized bed got under the covers and cried. You had the tv on following up with the fan so there was a 50 percent chance he couldn’t hear you. You knew would feel better in the morning after you talked it out and everything but it still hurt you. You later got tired of crying and fell asleep with puffy eyes.

Felix on the other hand was sick with himself he couldn’t even think of why he would do that to the person he loved. He was thinking about how he would make it up to you. Then this perfect idea came into his mind.

END of pt.1

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A/N: thank you for staying until the end. Plz tell me how you like the story. PLZ DONT COPY Work🙏

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But sorry if there any grammar mistakes or any mistakes plz point it out In the comments.