Venus; Chapter Seven; Text

𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙡 𝘿𝙞𝙭𝙤𝙣 (𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙙) 𝙂𝙞𝙛 𝙋𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙇𝙞𝙨𝙩

#1 (1-4) Sanctuary Escape (Hilltop)

#2 (5-11) Escaping Bedroom

#3 (12-15) Dressing

#4 (16-22) Tree & Field

♥ mx-pastelwriting does consent to their gifs being used. Do not claim as the maker of these gifs. ALL FREE TO USE (DO NOT CLAIM) REMEMBER TO CREDIT.

bangs x 10^-9

What started as a warm-up sketch, turned into a set of lovingly-crafted nanobangs. I miss those silver bangs of his!

lt simon riley x hybrid!reader in which you're forced into his life and he cant handle it, ignoring your existence until you talk to inanimate objects to make up for it. angst ofc

sorry if this is lowkey bad, my writing has been flopping rn (inspired by a mdni’s work summary, i have removed the link because i am unsure as to how to address this properly.)

edit: i am aware that the og had more than a few similarities to the op who i credited’s work. I have responded here

The news of a hybrid being assigned to him was the worst possible, maybe even comparable to the time he had to wear full gear in the middle east. There was just something about it he didnt like, not that he wanted to stereotype their kind but some could be so clingy, so needy and to think he’s have that, following him around? . But what he hates more is the way you’re sitting outside his flat door when he hears the knock, wide eyes trying to entice him to your outstretched hand. Though unfortunately for you, he just closes the door again.

For the first week, you tried over and over again. He didn't seem to want to talk to you at all, let alone acknowledge that you were in his house. The only instructions he ever spoke was to not leave the house nor damage anything inside the house. It wasn't like you’d attempt to test either rules on purpose anyway. Instead, you tried to be useful by cleaning up where you could, even if you couldn't help but get distracted by how fun sliding across the freshly mopped floors were. Plus, blanket forts were so fun to make, what do you mean they made more mess? You switched to cooking soon after, attempting to make him breakfast except every time you tried to wake up early, he was always already gone. So, you wake up extra, extra early, finding out he wakes at five and so you wake up at four the next day. You decide on sizzled meat rashers, a fried egg and a toaster waffle because you don't really understand how the oven works. It’s not your fault his has so many funny buttons.

Unfortunately for you, his hearing is almost as good as yours, or perhaps he just never sleeps properly. That’s why he walked in just when you were nodding off in a bowl of cracked eggs, the time too early for a young one like you, even if you were well into your twenties. He left the house with a slam that day.

After that you stopped trying, noticing it to be clearly obvious that he didn't want anything to do with you in the slightest. He didn't even glance at you, or ask if you wanted to eat anymore. The only reminder that you actually lived here were the remnants of your fur on the fluffy pillow that was your bed, and your name written on your pre-bought meals since he didn't trust you in his kitchen anymore. Questions were left to hang in the air, soft whines echoing around the empty room each night and only the dim TV for company.

Ghost had returned early today, a problem in base had left the place in slight disarray and the task force thought it’d be better if they just packed up for the day, maybe do paperwork at home instead. He clicks open the door, surprised to actually hear noise in the usually silent flat, though he’s already dreading whatever mess you’ve cooked up. As he enters the hallway, the noise becomes clearer, sounding like a voice, your voice, actually. “This is a super secret covert meeting, alright everyone? No one can know!” You squeak, and he’s raising a brow, mind already jumping to conclusions of you being a double agent sent to spy on him. He should’ve known they’d pull a dirty trick like that, especially with how Graves has been acting, there’s bound to be others to follow. But to infiltrate his own home is something that brings him great anger, making him all the more silent when he sneaks around the house, mind running through potential ways he’ll interrogate the information out of you.

A double agent was far too much credit for you though. You were just a silly animal who was sitting on the sofa opposite a tatty teddy bear, a pillow with a messily drawn paper face stuck to it and a t-shirt that you had draped over a pillow, the cartoon cat staring back at you. They have mugs in front of them, albeit not full of anything apart from your own mug of tea. “Just kidding, let’s order then we can start.”

You hum, pretending to take a list from the bear though it’s actually those takeaway menus that come through the letterbox. He watches carefully as you pick up one at random, eyes squinting as you attempt and almost fail to read the text. Facilities never bothered with educating their hybrids, only intent in teaching them the arts of being loyal and desirable so they’d get their pay.

“Men….u? St.. art…eer?” It’s near impossible to understand any of it, and eventually you have to put it down, huffing out a complaint. “Okay fine, i can't read at all.” Frustrated, you pull off the t-shirt, leaving the pillow to fall on the floor. You’ve watched countless videos, only with the help of the voice recognition function on the remote control, and have attempted daily for this whole week. “So what have you guys done this week?”

He notices now that you have the tv displaying an episode from those random TV series, you probably don't even know the name of it. You’re almost attempting to recreate the same scene of the friends sitting around the table, eyes flickering at the TV as you eye how they sit. You mimic a squeaky voice, holding the teddy bear by the scruff as you move its head around. “I went to the park with my handler.”

Somehow your eyes light up despite the fact you had made that up yourself, clapping your hands together. “Wow, I love the park! I wish I could chase the squirrels…” Your expression falters for a second, eyes drooped until you shake your head, moving to puppet the pillow in the middle instead. “I went to the movies with mine, and then we got icecream.”

You smile again, retracting your hand and placing it on your hips. “Damn, icecream too! ..Um.. It doesn’t matter what I did. We should do something together, but it has to be something easy.. and not too fun because if we leave a mess Simon will be mad.” He almost feels bad, but it’s not his fault, you will make a mess, and he’s already tired enough as it is. What he hadn't expected was what you’d say next.

“I don't think we’ll be able to do these meetups anymore guys.” You mumble out, frown growing on your lips as you puppeteer the bear. “What, why?”

“I-i think I’ll be getting kicked out soon. Or maybe I should just run away.. Should I? I mean, it’s not a totally bad idea and Simon won't have to deal with me!”

You stare back at the two fake people in front of you, the silence hanging heavy in the air until you reach forward, plucking the paper smiley face off the pillow and sticking on a sad face instead. “I know, I know— running away is bad and I'll only get hurt. What else then?”

The silence is long again and for once Simon can feel the distraught look on your face as you clench the hem of your loose sweater, nose wrinkled. It’s clear you’re not feeling too good, especially if you’ve resorted to talking to your own stuffed animals about running away to make him happier. It’s a pitiful sight to say the least but he can't blame you either, he’s purposefully ignored every single one of your feeble attempts to talk to him. It’s not like it helps that you’ve been cooped in a house for two weeks straight, not able to talk to anyone else. Now that he’s forced to notice, forced to think about it, it’s clear he’s torturing you, in some sick unintentional way. You’re locked away, a prisoner, a ghost— someone no one even knows exists despite how much you cry and beg for a sound to be made.

The small shuffle of your steps is sad, the way you put everything into position perfectly in case he gets annoyed, not that he’d ever express it anyway– sometimes you wish he just would say something, anything. But he doesn't, and you take the tatty teddy bear, hugging it to your chest. Not even your tail can bring you much warmth, the matted fur rough against your skin as you’ve failed to upkeep it’s maintenance the more miserable you grow.

You wont stay here for long, you’ll be moved elsewhere and grow older, less ‘desirable’ as you lose all your hybrid fluffiness until you’re finally left on the streets, scavenging bins for food like your parents did. A cycle that only repeats for you.

—————-

part 2 (coming soon, ask to be tagged)

other hybrid drabble i did

Us or Them

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You and Luca go undercover as a couple, and when you're forced to get close, the truth slips out.

Warnings: tiny bit of angst, fluff, a tiny bit suggestive, making out, infidelity (not r or SWAT characters) + canon typical warnings

Word Count: 3.8k+ words

A/N: I'll proofread this tomorrow! I just love the req so I wanted to post it now. :)

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“I don’t like that look, Hondo,” you murmur as he walks into the locker room.

“Hurtful,” he replies. “Detective Burrows wants to see you and Luca. Where is he?”

“Luca? I shoved him in his locker.”

Hondo hesitates before muttering, “I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

“Luca is helping Rocker with something outside. Why does Burrows want to see us?” You stand as you speak, and Hondo fails to hide his smile. “Hondo.”

“I only heard a few words, but one of them sounded like undercover.”

“Fantastic. I’ll find Luca,” you offer. “But not one more word out of you, Daniel.”

Hondo puts his hands up in surrender as you walk past him, but you hear him call out to Deacon. Shaking your head, you walk through HQ and into the parking lot to find Luca. You’ve been undercover once before, but you were alone, and it was just to find a way into a suspect’s house. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before 20 Squad stormed in behind you and arrested everyone else in the house. So, you’re unsure why Burrows would request you and Luca rather than trained UC officers.

“Luca!” you call when he stands from beside Black Betty. “Burrows needs to see us.”

“What for?” Luca asks, wearing a similar surprise to yours.

“Hondo thinks it may be an undercover thing, but I don’t know yet.”

Luca nods and passes a small toolbox to Rocker. “Keep working on it.”

“You got it,” Rocker answers. “Have fun undercover.”

You roll your eyes and follow Luca into the building. Once inside, you take a few large steps to walk beside him.

“Hondo said undercover?” Luca inquires. “Think maybe he misheard?”

“Possibly,” you admit. “I don’t know what case he’s working, but I guess if he needs UC and SWAT…” You trail off with a shrug, and Luca smiles. “What?”

“It’s never that easy with Burrows,” he reminds you.

“True. This is going to be terrible, isn’t it?”

A door opens to your right, and Burrows says, “Depends on how you look at it.”

“How are we going to look at it?” Luca counters.

Burrows gestures for you to come inside, and Luca moves to hold the door for you as you enter Burrows’ office. There’s a case board in front of his desk and pictures of a different couple in every corner.

“Please don’t tell me that’s mafia related,” you state.

“Not mafia,” Burrows assures with a grin. “But they are looking for a fifth couple.”

“To do what?” Luca asks before you can.

Burrows hesitates, and you exhale sharply. You’re a SWAT officer; you knew before you walked in that it would be a dangerous assignment, but now you are sure it will be more than you anticipated.

“They stage affairs to rob and murder couples,” Burrows explains quickly. “The richer the better.”

“They stage affairs,” you repeat. “As in pretend to cheat on each other to get into these people’s houses?”

“Apparently it’s their favorite way to, uh, get the blood pumping. We’ve got CCTV footage of them in high end hotels after every attack.”

“How do they do it?” Luca asks. “One goes in, the other storms in, and they work together?”

“Thinking like a criminal already, Officer Luca,” Burrows applauds. “More or less, that’s exactly how it goes. They go out together, play up how in love with one another they are, then one of them connects with someone else. Excuse, go upstairs, both partners burst in, then it’s time for murder and theft.”

“Wait, so wife goes upstairs with someone else’s husband,” you clarify. “Then husband gets the other wife, and they come up together? They con both of them to get them upstairs?”

Burrows shrugs and explains, “It’s just genius enough to keep them from getting caught. They’re getting more brazen, robbing two or three couples at a time. Apparently they need a solid five couples to keep it working.”

You look at Luca, and he nods before he says, “Tell us what you need.”

Burrows sighs in relief, then says, “I need you to convince these people that you’re madly in love and madly homicidal.”

“I feel like I should be on a reality show,” you tell Luca as you adjust your hair in the mirror on your visor.

“You look like it too,” he replies. “Burrows’ CI said they’re dining at Mastro’s tonight, though, so we have to look our part and then some.”

You close the visor and turn in the passenger seat to look at Luca. “We’re going to have to get really close, to sell this, I mean. It’s not going to make things weird, is it?”

Though you know you’re both trained and professional, there is a chance this will change everything between you. Not because you are friends and coworkers who see each other daily and trust one another with your lives, but because you have unresolved and unadmitted feelings for Luca. If something happens tonight, you’re not sure you’ll be able to keep those feelings buried anymore. The thought of him not wanting to be around you anymore because of that makes your stomach flip beneath your overpriced outfit.

“Of course not,” Luca answers emphatically. “It’s just a job.”

Maybe for you, you think. “Right,” you say instead. “And we get expensive food out of it.”

“Tonight is their deadline to pick up a fifth,” Luca reminds you. “As far as burglary-homicide can tell, that means it’s time for them to strike again.”

“So, you want me to flirt – eyes and body language only – with our server or someone close to him, then lift his wallet while they can see?” you check.

“Yeah,” Luca answers. “We can do this.”

You smile as he stops the car beside the valet stand and agree, “Of course we can.”

With your left arm looped through Luca’s right and your other hand perched on his bicep, you enter the penthouse restaurant with a smile.

“They’re all sitting against the west windows,” you whisper in Luca’s ear as you follow a woman to your table. “But pretend I said anything else.”

Luca turns his chin toward you, a look you’ve never seen before in his eyes as he squeezes your hand gently and says, “Later.”

You brush your teeth over your bottom lip before you separate from Luca and sit across the table from him. With what you hope is an apologetic look, you slide your leg under the table and hook your heel behind his lower leg. He smiles and offers his hand across the table. There are eight sets of eyes on you, glaring into you as the criminals across from you evaluate you and Luca as potential criminal accomplices.

“They’re looking,” you murmur softly.

“Everyone is,” Luca replies, cocky, sure, and completely in character.

“Good evening,” your waiter greets. “What can I get you to drink?”

Luca orders for both of you as you trail your eyes up and down the waiter. When he steps back, you lock eyes with him and smile. His eyes drop before he turns and walks away. That’s exactly what you wanted.

“The ladies liked that,” Luca whispers. He leans against the table and drops his eyes to your lips to add, “Almost as much as I did.”

You push your foot against his leg as you smile and desperately try to hold on to the part of you that views this as an assignment and nothing more. If you start seeing how Luca looks at you as anything more, you won’t be able to come out of this act the same.

“Waiter’s wallet is in the left pocket,” you enunciate, hoping the people beside you are reading your lips. “When he comes back, I’ll excuse myself, you order for me, and I’ll grab it on the way past.”

“You sure you didn’t make him too nervous looking at him like that?” Luca inquires.

You reach across the table and gently grasp his chin before you ask, “Does this look make you nervous?”

Luca shakes his head slowly before he kisses your fingertips, and you pull your hand away too quickly. He apologizes with a small nod, but you’re unable to explain the sudden movement before the waiter returns.

“Will you order for me?” you ask Luca. “Excuse me.”

You move the napkin from your lap back to the table and pass behind the waiter a few inches closer than is usually acceptable. With one simple move of your wrist, you pull his wallet from his pocket and tuck it between your hand and your hip as you walk to the restroom. In your peripheral, you notice two of the four women on Burrows’ board stand and walk toward you. It’s induction time.

As you enter the ladies’ room and the waiter leaves Luca’s side, one of your visitors' boyfriends walks to Luca’s table. He sits and pretends to greet an old friend.

“What can I do for you?” Luca asks, effortlessly charming even as his thoughts drift to you.

Luca has cared about you as more than a coworker since you met on your first day in the LAPD. He was drawn to you, and his need to be near and with you grows stronger each day. Deacon has encouraged him to tell you how he feels, but too much is at stake. The same things that have also kept you from making a move.

“Steph and I – you remember Steph, right?” the man begins.

Luca sees the challenging look in the man’s eyes and plays along as he answers, “Who could forget Steph? You two still going strong?”

“Stronger than ever,” the man – Grant, if Luca remembers the couple pairings correctly – brags. “In fact, we’ve got a new business venture that is doing wonders for our professional and private lives.”

“What’s the point of business without a little pleasure?”

“Exactly. I saw that you’re here with your beautiful woman, too, and since I’m sure they’re gossiping about us in the bathroom right now, why don’t we meet up after dinner? Grab a nightcap or a coffee and talk? I think you’d be very interested in hearing about our team.”

“That sounds perfect,” Luca agrees. “We’ve been looking for a change, anyway. Can’t let things get too boring with women like mine, you know?”

“Trust me, brother, I do. My buddies and their girls are coming too.”

Luca nods as Grant stands from the table and slides him a paper with a time and address written on it. Alone at the table again, Luca fights to hide his surprise when you return with a different hairstyle, red lipstick, and have adjusted your outfit.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the paper in his hand.

“We’re meeting one of my old friends for coffee after this,” Luca answers.

“Perfect.”

Grant and his crew of thieves and murderers leave the restaurant before you do, and you sigh as you slump in your seat.

“I look like I ran into a girl from the Jersey Shore and her makeup rubbed off on me,” you lament.

“I hadn’t noticed a difference,” Luca jokes. “If it helps any, you don’t need any of it.”

You smile, not the flirty, overselling smile from earlier, but your genuine smile as you pinch your napkin and murmur, “Thank you.”

Luca stands and offers his hand. In the privacy of the elevator, you drop your head against his shoulder and ask, “What do you think they’ll want to know?”

“The wallet for sure. Probably about us and how far we’d go to get the things, experiences, and people we want.”

“They’re either really good actors or so remarkably greedy that they can’t see how good they have it with decent relationships,” you comment.

“Or both.”

The first thing you notice upon entering the dark coffee shop is how close your suspects are sitting to one another. You tighten your grip on Luca’s hand but don’t warn him before you wait for him to sit and then perch on his knee. Without hesitation, he wraps his arm around your waist and tips you to lean against his chest. Your hand splays over his heart as you smile at the people sitting around you.

“I’m Grant,” the man who spoke to Luca introduces. “I believe you’ve already met Steph and Daisy,” he tells you. “This is Oliver, Aurora, Jacob, Brendan and Lizzie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luca says before introducing himself and you.

“You’re all incredibly attractive. Just wanted to throw that out there, and obviously I have good taste,” you add, looking pointedly at Luca.

“Good taste in targets too, it seems,” Oliver states. “The waiter?”

“Easy isn’t always good.”

“But it works,” Lizzie argues. “And we all start somewhere. Girls gotta eat, right?”

You hold your tongue between your teeth and look at Luca to agree, “So right.”

“That have something to do with your new business, Grant?” Luca asks, tightening his grip around you.

“Everything,” Grant and Oliver answer together.

“Please continue,” you invite.

“We’ve got a pretty straightforward system,” Brendan explains. “One you’ve already proven capable of.”

“One of us chooses a target – married target – and initiates contact. It goes well, always, and they go off alone. Whatever that takes. Then your significant other finds the cheater’s spouse, takes them to the room and storms in. Inside, we work together to incapacitate the infidelity-stricken couple and take whatever we want,” Jacob adds.

“Do you…” Luca trails off with a small gesture of his thumb over his throat.

“Usually,” Daisy answers before sipping her drink. “They see our faces, sometimes a bit more-“ Lizzie interrupts her with a giggle before she can finish – “so we can’t just leave them, you know?”

“Makes sense,” you muse. “But why do you need more? Eight of you seems like plenty to rip off some rich, sloppy cheaters.”

“Short answer?” Aurora asks. “Variety. People look for different things in flings, plus sometimes we have trouble restraining them. Mostly, though, it’s talent. You robbed a waiter in the middle of one of LA’s most expensive and busiest restaurants.”

You nod, wondering how they’ll feel about their decision-making process when they learn that he was an undercover cop.

“What do you want us to do?” Luca asks.

“Prove your worth one more time, and then we’ll talk again,” Grant says.

“The Four Seasons Bar tomorrow at nine,” Steph adds. “We’ll be at a booth in the corner, watching your every move. Pull it off and you get to keep the spoils and get your choice of future targets with our help.”

“Hear that?” you ask Luca. “We keep what we earn and then get to earn more. Sounds like a good investment to me, baby.”

Luca smiles at you before he tells Grant, “We’ll be there.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you groan. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Burrows asks, tossing his hands up.

“Look at him,” you demand, pointing at Hondo. “I’m not going to be able to do this to him. I’ll laugh at him before I can even think about pretending to be interested in having an affair with him.”

“You just showed up to work this week to hurt me, huh?” Hondo interjects. “What about Deac?”

“It can’t be someone we know,” Luca argues. You nod quickly to agree. “They’ll be able to see any sliver of recognition.”

“Get me a UC couple that I’ve never met before and we can make it work,” you explain. “But no one I work with consistently.”

“Even Rocker?” Hondo taunts.

“Especially Rocker.”

“Okay, fine,” Burrows concedes. “I’ll send in UCs, both wearing purple so they’re easy to spot. Tell me again why we can’t make the arrest this time?”

“Because they’re expecting us to do this ourselves,” Luca says. “For all we know, they won’t come up to the room with us at all, just check our pockets when we come back down.”

Burrows runs his hand through his hair before he clarifies, “But we get them next time?”

“Guaranteed,” you and Luca answer together.

“Why don’t we ever come to the Four Seasons for date night?” you inquire from your position on Luca’s arm.

“We get this job, and we can,” he says lowly, moving his hand over your waist and toward your hip.

“Get a table facing the three-side,” you request against Luca’s shoulder.

He does as you ask, and from your seated position, you can see the UC couple, but Luca’s back is to them. You lock eyes briefly with the man, smile, and then look down. He knows his cue; he’ll follow you to the elevator when you hold up three fingers. His partner laughs and leans across the table to kiss him as you lay your cheek against your hand and look at Luca. The longing, lovesick gaze you fix on him isn’t thanks to your acting ability; it’s just one of the only excuses you’ll ever get to look at him like this.

Someone approaches your UC’s table, and you keep your eyes on Luca, letting them stray to his lips as he flirts freely with you. Without eyes on your UC, you don’t know how long you’ll have to wait to pretend to gauge his interest again. The man, dressed in black, steps away from the table as you move carefully to stand beside Luca. You press your hands against his shoulders, looking up quickly to check on your UC. He stares at you, pretending to breathe heavily before his attention suddenly snaps back to his partner. His quick glances at you are exactly what you need as you lower onto Luca’s lap and press your lips to his.

Luca hums in surprise, but his hands quickly move to your waist, gripping you softly before his fingers spread to trail up your back. With his hands on you and your lips moving with his, you nearly forget to drop your hand beside his chair and flash the signal to the UC. Carefully and painstakingly, you pull back from Luca and wipe your thumb under his mouth to remove the lipstick you transferred to his skin.

“Excuse me for a minute?” you request huskily, scraping your thumbnail under your own lips.

Luca nods, squeezing your hips as you stand. You make it to the elevator fifteen seconds before the UC, and you press yourself against him as the doors close.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you step back.

“It’s what I’m trained for,” he replies. “Pretty sweet gig some days.”

You shake your head at his comment, then lead him to the department-purchased hotel room and wait for Luca and his partner to arrive. Someone knocks on the door, and you freeze.

Steph says your name, then giggles like she’s pretending to be drunk. “Let me in!”

Turning to the officer beside you, you press your lips against his chin and neck, then ruffle his hair and push his purple shirt off his shoulders. As you stumble to the door with one shoe kicked off, you pull one of your dress straps down and pull several pieces of hair from your updo.

“Steph!” you greet as you open the door. “What are you doing here?”

“We want to see how it’s going,” Grant answers, stepping away from the wall beside your door. “Let us in?”

You shrug and push the door open for them, unsurprised to see that they’re both armed. Grant pulls his gun and holds it on the UC as you aim yours – removed from your thigh holster – at Steph.

“Don’t do this,” you warn. “We’re LAPD.”

“Figures,” Steph scoffs. “Only a cop would let looks like that go to waste.”

“And that kiss?” Grant challenges knowingly. “Just part of the act or something you wanted an excuse to do?”

“Stop talking,” you demand.

“And do what? Wait for your partner?”

“Something like that,” Luca says as he enters the room with his weapon ready.

“For robbers and killers, you’re not very good at making sure the door closes behind you,” you tell Grant.

He sees your heel propped between the door and the jamb and sneers as he moves his finger to the trigger.

“I wouldn’t,” Luca advises. “Your buddies are downstairs telling the detectives everything. What I heard was all about you and how it was all your idea. Grant pulled the trigger, Grant set them up, Grant-“

“Shut up!” Grant demands, turning his gun on you. “I’ll kill her.”

“Go ahead,” you say. “You kill me, they put you in jail forever. Either way, no one else has to deal with your pathetic attempt at feeling wanted.”

“I swear-“

Grant doesn’t finish before a gun fires, and he falls to the floor with a yelp. The UC officer beside him stands and pulls Grant’s gun away before he looks at Luca with wide eyes. Steph falls to her knees beside Grant, giving you plenty of time to pull the gun from her waistband as Grant holds the gunshot wound on his thigh.

“Bit premature?” you ask Luca.

“It was us or them,” he tells you, holstering his weapon. “They planned to kill us too, the guy downstairs was supposed to interrupt the trial run. So, when you left anyway, they got worried. Which, by the way, Grant, your plan was awful.”

Grant moans in reply, and you step aside as more officers enter the room. Luca turns toward you and pulls your dress up just before Hondo walks in with Burrows.

“Jacob, Lizzie, and Aurora gave us everything we need to charge them all,” Burrows says. “Well done, you two.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you mumble.

“Good night?” Hondo asks, smirking as he looks between Luca and the UC.

“His was better,” the UC answers as he prepares to leave. “Thanks for the fifteen minutes in the Four Seasons room, detective.”

“Get out of here,” Burrows instructs. “Come by in the morning to give your statements and I’ll try to keep the commissioner from pushing the cleaning cost on you,” he adds, gesturing to the blood on the carpet.

You nod and follow Luca to the unmarked police car waiting for you. Sitting in silence beside the curb, you both try to find the words to start the necessary conversation.

“I’m sorry,” you decide. “I shouldn’t have just kissed you like that.”

“We were undercover,” Luca defends. “You saved my life.”

“You saved mine.”

You fall silent again, watching the digital clock on the dashboard and waiting for it to change.

“I wanted it,” Luca whispers. “Not like that, and it doesn’t change anything, but I’ve wanted this – us – for years. Every time we work together, I realize it more.”

Your jaw drops as you watch Luca in the dark car. He continues talking, mixing in apologies with assurances that nothing has changed before you lean across the console and kiss him again. He cups your face immediately, bringing you as close as possible.

When you pull back and take a deep breath, you promise, “I still want it.”

“I’m glad I chose us then,” Luca says, tracing his fingers over your lips.

You smile and lean in again, hoping you’re imagining Hondo’s shocked but excited yell from outside the car.

bed chem ━━━ iwaizumi hajime

02. rip pedro ♡

Part of you almost forgot how violent ice hockey could get, watching the practice as people are ramming each other into the barriers or over onto the ice — and these people were teammates. You hate to think about how they treat people they don’t know.

You’re sat on a bench a few rows back beside Akaashi, who keeps glancing between the rink and his book in his lap. He keeps commenting on the plays, gesturing to each different player on the rink with ease. You, on the other hand, can’t find Bokuto for the life of you. You just keep noticing everyone shoving each other, the puck being violently flung across the air. You’re grateful when the whistle blows and they gather in a circle around their coach for a couple minutes.

“See that guy with the number one on his shirt?” Akaashi lightly nudges you and points to the only person still on the ice. “That’s Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi slides the puck across the ice before slamming it into the goal with an insane amount of strength. He skates forward to take it back, skating around the rink to get it in the other goal.

“Do you want me and Bokuto to wait for you?”

You shake your head and pick up your bag and skates from the floor. “No, it’s okay. Even if he says no, he can’t stop me from using it for the next…fifteen minutes. Thanks, though.”

You make your way down the steps and take a seat on a bench by the gate, changing into your skates. Ignoring the looks you get from passing members of the hockey team, you stand up and step out onto the rink.

Your presence is instantly felt by Iwaizumi — or maybe it was the sound of the gate closing that notified him. Either way, he skids to a halt and turns to face you. Though you can’t see what he looks like through his helmet, you can feel yourself shrinking under his stare.

“Can I talk to you?”

He shrugs his shoulders and removes his helmet, waiting for you to approach him.

Withholding your sigh, you reluctantly skate towards him as slow as possible. All you can think about is how badly you wish he kept the helmet on; he looks as if he may kill you. When you stop as far as possible from him, he eyes you up and down like you’re the most disgusting thing he’s seen.

Instantly, your nerves are replaced by anger. Fuck you, then. With the fakest smile you can muster, you rest your hands on your hips and look him straight in the eye. “My name’s y/n, I’ve transferred from Tokyo. I’m a championship skater, I’ve been the top in Japan for the last three years and I plan to make it four. I can’t do that unless we can come to an agreement about sharing the rink. Just two hours a day is all I and the other figure skaters, need.”

“We only practice two hours a day. The rink is open for you the rest of the time. Why is this my problem?” Iwaizumi shrugs his shoulders and leans on the stick beside him. “I’m sure you can figure it out yourself, you look smart. Unless that’s why you got transferred?”

A scoff slips out, which clearly doesn’t sit well with Iwaizumi. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m a good student. Like, really good. But I don’t think that matters when it comes to designating time on the ice. I would like to suggest that the figure skaters get two hours in the morning when it opens, and after that we can share the rink. How does that sound?”

Once again, Iwaizumi eyes you up and down. He pulls his helmet back on and backs away. “In your dreams, princess. If you’re that desperate, there’s about ten minutes until the rink shuts. Make the most of it.”

# fun fact !

when he turned around, y/n couldn’t help but sneak a peak at his ass

masterlist. previous | next

summary. when an unfortunate incident kicks you out of your university and risks your reputation as one of the top figures skater in the country, you find your place in sendai. but when you discover they only have one rink, designated to their a-league hockey team, your chance at a comeback slips from your grasp. your only in is with the captain of the hockey team. the issue with that? he couldn’t care less who you are.

taglist (31/50). @standcom @thoughtswithbbg @aboutkiyoomi @angtopia @yunavx @celestialm1nd @surfeitstar @xiaoquanquans @istann @aldebrana @mdmraz @loveyislost @softpia @less-chaotic-brain @wakashudou @mo072806 @90s-belladonna @wave2mia @rrosiitas @suuunarin @chaotic-neutral-ig @nanasrkives @hrithi11 @hantas-left-eyebrow @itsdragonius @sexylexy12 @0rangej0e @wordsofelie @p4lli @a-sorrowful-tune @iluv-ace

hey!! loved reading your fives and rex fics!! could i possibly maybe request a captain rex x reader where the reader is a jedi and she's ina. similar situation to the one ahsoka was in during the final season (order 66 scene)? eek ilysm

where trust falls apart

Rex x F!Reader / Jedi!Reader

word count: 4.6k

description: the end of the war is near, but when the clones turn on you, you come to understand that your hardship has only just begun

warnings/tags: angst! hurt/comfort, order 66, rex under the influence of the inhibitor chip, canon-typical violence, mention of the conspiracy arc, friends to lovers fluff at the end :)

a/n: hi anon ! thank you so much <3 I haven't written anything about order 66 yet so thanks for requesting, I hope this is the kind of thing you were looking for !

masterlist | join my taglist | read on ao3

Looking out on the stars, you couldn’t help but muse on how the past few years, the years of your life that you had given to the war, were coming to a close.

There was something in the air, a feeling of calm, stillness, that felt oddly like being lulled into a false sense of security. The end of the war was nearing, everyone could feel it. Count Dooku had been defeated, General Kenobi had engaged General Grievous on Utapau, and you yourself had just come from Mandalore, having assisted in the capture of Darth Maul. There was a finality about the jump to hyperspace, as if leaving all grievances in the past, finally having prevailed against any and all adversaries.

Despite the relief you thought you might feel, there was something uncomfortable nagging at you from the back of your mind. You had thanked the clones alongside you for their part in the war, and then had retreated to a small room towards the back of the ship, with a window to the galaxy where you could just be alone with the stars.

It was emptiness that you felt, and you couldn’t figure out why. You should be happy, with the war ending, and hopefully being able to step down from your role as a General and become a keeper of the peace once again. However, the loneliness nagged at you nonetheless.

There was a knock at the door, and you pulled your eyes from the swirling blues of hyperspace to call for the person to enter. When the door zipped open, you were pleased to be met by the figure of the Captain of the 501st.

“General” he addressed you with a respectful nod of his head, though his expression betrayed something hesitant.

“Captain” you replied, “is everything alright?”

“Fine, sir” he confirmed, though didn’t elaborate as he stood in the doorway, gripping his helmet at his side.

”Did you need me for anything?” you asked, a little confused by his demeanour.

“No General, I just came to—” he paused, looking to the floor before he found your eyes again, “may I come in?”

You smiled, your questioning gaze softening at the timidity of the otherwise brave soldier, “of course”

Rex was a complication that you never saw coming.

With you not having your own battalion, you were placed wherever most support was needed, and in many of those instances, you had been deployed alongside the 501st. When you first met Rex, you had been struck by how easily confident he was, how collected he seemed in the face of a war that promised no end, and a General that sought to break his composure with every crazy new tactic he could think of.

As time passed, and you got to know Rex better, you became so effortlessly enamoured by him. He was charming and easy to get along with, if a little awkward at times, but that only endeared you to him more. You had spent many a campaign fighting at his side, and the feeling was always exhilarating. Your movements were harmonious with his in a especially instinctual way, working together as one unit without the need to tell him what to do. You understood each other, in a certain way.

Before you could think to pull yourself back, you realised your feelings towards him had reached the depths that no jedi should be indulging in. You tried to act as if it didn’t affect you, as if he didn’t affect you, but with every lingering look, every benevolent smile and awkward wave, you were failing miserably.

It was somewhat clear to you that Rex might feel the same way. He was always given away by the blush that spread across his cheeks whenever you thanked him or complimented his tactical skills, and as much as you felt you shouldn’t, sometimes you did so just to get that adorable reaction.

Rex was a restrained man. You knew that he’d never compromise your position as a jedi and as a General, and part of you was thankful for that, but there was also a part of you that wished upon every star that he would one day lose his composure and take what he so clearly wanted from you.

Now, as he closed the door behind him without taking his eyes from you, you took a moment to make another of those wishes.

“Are you okay General?” he asked, his voice cautious, as if he didn’t want to overstep.

“Yeah” you smiled softly, “just needed to get away for a moment”

Rex hesitated before he replied, “would you like me to leave?”

You chuckled slightly, “no, I’m glad you’re here”

The familiar blush spread across his cheeks as he shifted on his feet, forcing his gaze down to look at the floor.

“What did you come for?” you asked.

“Oh” the word fell from his lips as if he’d been caught, “I was just coming to check on you”

You couldn’t stop the way your heart fluttered, “why?”

Rex faltered, his eyes glued to his boots as he spoke quietly, “you know I care about you General, I—” he gulped, “I could tell that you weren’t feeling great after getting back to the ship, and I don’t want to impose but I couldn’t—”

“Rex” you placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping his rambling and making his head snap up to look at you with wide eyes, “thank you”

Rex didn’t speak, but the way his breath hitched, cheeks darkening further as his eyes dragged across your features, told you it had more of an effect on him than he’d let on. You shouldn’t test his patience, really, but watching him squirm like this was something that you relished in. You took your hand away from him, and he exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot, about the war coming to an end” you confessed, turning back around the look out of the window.

Rex came to stand beside you, “what about it?”

You sighed, an action that gave away your fatigue, “I’m just not sure what comes next, it’s… troubling”

Rex nodded, “I understand”

His voice was quiet, and you turned to look at him. His amber eyes bore into you with an intensity that made your insides constrict. You’d seen the look before, but never in such close quarters, and the earnestness of it was startling.

“I’ll miss working with you, General” he said quietly, and the way his eyebrows pinched slightly as he spoke told you that his words meant more than he was saying.

You turned your body, resting the side of your head against the glass as you looked up at him, “so will I”

For a moment, neither one of you moved, too wrapped up in each other’s gazes to find a reason to look away. It was thrilling, holding his attention in this way, and before you could restrain yourself, you were speaking again.

“I’ll miss you a lot, Rex”

Rex sighed slightly, his shoulders sagging as he shifted closer to you. His gaze turned sorrowful, and his nervousness was obvious in the way his fingers fidgeted with the edge of his helmet.

“General, I need to tell you something” he whispered, and your heart lurched.

You took a step towards him so that your boots nearly touched his, and for once he didn’t look like he was going to move away. You pried his helmet from his twitching fingers and placed it on the windowsill, and his hands fell to his sides.

“What is it, Captain?” you asked in reply.

He looked nervous to speak, his mouth opening and then promptly closing when he couldn’t form the words. You hoped that the way you were looking up at him would give him the confidence to say what was on his mind, but you were pleasantly surprised when instead, he opted to lift a hand and sweep some of your hair behind your ear, then rest his palm against your cheek. His touch was painfully gentle, as if he was still trying to keep you at arm’s length, but it made your breath catch in your throat nonetheless.

”General, I—”

His gentle tone was interrupted by the shrill beeping of a comm device, and for a moment, he let it ring out, swiping his thumb across your cheek.

“Just give me a moment to see what this is about” he murmured, and then moved away to the other side of the room to receive the comm call.

Your blood felt hot, Rex’s touch still searing into your skin and sending tingles all throughout your body. You couldn’t believe that he’d actually crossed the line, and the anticipatory thrill that ran through you made you breathless.

You turned to admire him for a moment, and saw him clip the comm back onto his belt, and then slowly take a blaster from its holster. A cold feeling gripped you, a sharp pain piercing your mind and making your head ache. Rex wasn’t turning around, and you saw the way his hand trembled as he held his blaster tightly.

“Rex? What is it?” you asked worriedly, taking a few steps towards him.

“Get…” his voice was low, dangerous, and you froze, “get out”

You took another step but his voice was insistent.

”Run”

“Rex, what—?” you reached out to him, gently touching his arm, but you realised the error of your ways immediately.

He grabbed your wrist before you had barely touched him, and twisted your arm behind you at a painful angle, drawing a yelp from your throat. Your hand flung to your belt on instinct, calling your lightsaber to you, but Rex got his hand to your other wrist before you could get your fingers around it. The sound of the metal weapon clattering to the floor rang out in the quiet of the small room, and Rex pushed you into the wall, your cheek taking the full force of his strength. You groaned, feeling your face throbbing with pain as you heard Rex kick away your lightsaber.

You had barely had time to process what was happening, and it seemed so preposterous that you weren’t fully convinced that it was. Perhaps this was some sick daydream that you were having. That thought was knocked from you at the feeling of Rex pressing you into the wall, his palm against the back of your head.

“Stay put and be quiet” he spoke, and his voice was cold and harsh, two things you had never associated with him.

“Rex—”

“I said quiet” he growled in your ear, his breath tickling your neck and making you shudder.

You’d never been afraid of Rex, there was no reason to be after all. Though with the feeling of something shifting the tide against you, and knowing exactly the kind of things that Rex was capable of, a visceral fear gripped you body. You couldn't move, and luckily that's all he was asking for right now.

You felt the barrel of a blaster dig into the back of your head, earning another pained noise. You quickly felt hot tears springing from your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks.

“Rex what's going on? Why are you doing this?” you voice betrayed every inch of fear that held you captive. You sounded small, a quivering mess that tripped over words.

Before Rex could reply, if he even would have, a voice crackled through his comm, “Captain, sir, we can't find the target, have you got eyes on her?”

It was Jesse’s voice, and an unbidden whimper escaped your lips, earning a knee to the back and another grunt of pain from you. You couldn't understand why your men would turn on you in this way, and especially Rex.

The sensation that invaded your mind in the next moments was the most horrifying feeling that had ever seized you. You heard the cries through the force, their agony creating a wave of pain, a fever that wracked your body, making everything ache. You were brought to your knees by it, your chest constricting and feeling like you couldn't get enough air into your lungs.

“I'm dealing with it” Rex said simply, and pushed his blaster into your head once more, bringing you back to the present moment.

You could feel the way his hand shook, and you couldn't help but think that he should have shot you by now. You tilted your head back slowly, looking up at him as he towered above you with a steely expression that didn't suit him one bit.

“Rex, please” you whispered the desperate plea, and you could see the way his eyes shone, a watery layer of tears covering their surface despite the otherwise fierce look.

Without making any sudden movements, you gradually turned around and stood up. His blaster was now pressing into your forehead, but upon closer inspection you realised that he didn't even have his finger on the trigger. You slowly lifted your hands up, placing them over his, and trying to inject some calm into him, a soothing gesture through the force. All you could feel bouncing back at you was something cold and unfeeling, something bleak that didn't feel anything like he usually did.

Beneath it all there was a small flicker of light, which felt like it was trying to escape with every last bit of energy it had. It felt like Rex was being held captive in his own body, and the notion shook you to your core.

“Rex, it's okay” you tried to soothe, but he just pressed you back more, your head hitting into the wall and bringing a new discomfort.

He was close, watching tears slip out of your eyes from mere inches away, but the only thing he did was finally put his finger to the trigger. You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing what you had to do to get out of this situation.

“I'm so sorry Rex” you whispered, before mustering all the strength within you to push him back and send him careening into the wall opposite.

His head hit the durasteel with a sickening thud, carving a dent where it found its mark, and you cringed, hoping it hadn't done any serious damage to him. He was still conscious, barely, groaning at the injury and holding the back of his head in his hand. You took your chance and summoned your lightsaber, scurrying from the room and heading straight to the hangar with haste.

It had been months, or you thought so at least. You stopped counting the days when you realised that it didn't really matter. It was in the past, that was all that was important.

You were a different person now, at least in the mind of those around you. You went by a different name, and it seemed fitting for how you felt like a shell of the person you used to be. You'd found work on some outer rim planet that you'd never knew existed until you almost crashed into its surface. It was far enough away from the core worlds that it was doubtful that anyone would recognise you, but you still tried not to make a show of yourself. It was easy work, fixing up speeders and other hunks of junk that people brought in. It was pretty mindless work, but you had always been good with your hands, and the pay wasn't awful.

Unfortunately, the mindlessness of it gave you plenty of time to think. It had been months, but you were still confused.

Rex was probably your closest friend, someone you had trusted with your life, but that trust had been proven futile the moment he put a blaster to your head. You knew that something had to have been seriously wrong to do such a thing. Even if he suddenly decided your friendship was worthless, he was a good man. He couldn't do such a thing in his right mind. The cold sensation that gripped you when you touched his hand still haunted your dreams, but you were not closer to figuring it out.

It was late, rain was pouring down outside the garage and providing a calming backdrop to your tinkering, and you were slid underneath a speeder, humming something to keep your mind focused with your hands buried in tangled wires. You felt someone approaching before their footsteps reached your ears, and an irritated sigh left your lips. You remembered turning the sign on the door to show you were finished for the day. Apparently this person had taken it upon themself to investigate anyway.

“We’re closed” you said in a flat voice, not enough energy to inject any warmth into your voice.

The person didn't reply, and you could feel them standing there still, unmoving. With another ennervated noise leaving your lips, you slid out from underneath the speeder to give them a piece of your mind, but your words died on your lips when you saw the person looking down at you.

You instantly pulled the blaster from the holster at your hip, and his hands shot up in surrender.

“Please don't shoot, I'm not going to hurt you”

You didn't know what to, or say. You had imagined what you might say if you came upon Rex again, you couldn't help it, but all of your previous thoughts were spilling from your head at the sight of him actually standing there. You stood up, keeping your blaster pointed at him, ready to run if need be. Of course you'd never shoot him, and he probably knew that, but it was still a protective measure you weren't going to neglect.

“How did you find me?” you asked, trying to keep your voice strong.

“Please put the blaster d—” Rex's please was cut off by you doubling down, stepping forwards with your finger on the trigger.

“I asked you a question” you remarked.

“I— Senator Organa told me where I could find you” he said carefully.

Your frown was deep and betrayed your mistrust before you spoke, “you're lying”

“I'm no—”

“Why would he tell you?” you pushed your blaster into his forehead, trying your best to be intimidating, but he just looked calm, his eyes piercing you as they had before he turned on you, a reverence in his gaze that gave you pause.

It made your heart stutter, but you couldn't give in so easily. He didn't pull away, he didn't do anything but watch you for a moment, and you could feel yourself giving in.

“Because I asked” he replied softly, bringing his hands up and placing them over yours.

You only realised then that you were shaking, with the steadiness and warmth of Rex engulfing your hands. You could feel none of the cold and harsh feeling that reached for your mind the last time you had touched him, only the warmth of his usual presence through the force. Strong and glowing, unyieldingly positive and steadfast, just comforting.

You felt Rex take the blaster from you and throw it away, holding your trembling hands in his and enrapturing you with his steady gaze.

“You don't need to be afraid of me” his voice was soothing and gentle.

“I don't understand” you whispered, your voice trembling, though no longer in fear.

Rex tentatively pulled you forward and wrapped his arms around you, and you took the bait instantly. You buried your face in his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, enveloping yourself in his warmth, his comfort.

“I'm so sorry General” he said softly, sounding utterly apologetic, “you're safe, I can explain everything”

It did feel safe, being in his arms, but you still couldn't so easily shake what had happened the last time you saw him.

“Why did you—” it was hard to say, hard to admit, “you were going to kill me”

His arms tightened around you, “I couldn't control it General, I—” he sighed and rested his chin on the top of your head, “I have a lot of explaining to do”

A small laugh escaped you even though you knew it wasn't a joke. Perhaps it was just that the situation seemed so ridiculous.

“You think?” you pulled back to look up at him, a small smile pulling at your lips.

Rex's hand found its place on your cheek as he smiled back, and you leaned into it, about to close your eyes until you noticed a thin scar on the side of his head.

“What's this?” you reached up and traced your finger along it.

Rex huffed a little, “the explanation”

You frowned up at him, not taking his meaning at all.

“I— it’s a lot, it's hard to—”

You stepped out of his embrace to gesture behind you, “why don't you come and sit down in my room”

Rex looked to the door you were pointing to across the room, hesitant for a moment before he met your gaze again with a small smile, “yeah, that sounds good”

After showing him into the small room, Rex took a seat on the old sofa that clung to the wall, while you went about making a batch of caf. You were suddenly struck by how different things were. You weren't entirely sure what was going on in the larger galaxy, having run away from it all, but what you knew was that whoever Rex was to you now, was something completely different. He was no longer a soldier under your command, you no longer his General. Something about it sent a thrill through you, but you tried to supress thinking about that until he'd explained himself.

You offered him the cup of caf, and grabbed your own, taking a seat beside him and bringing your knees to your chest. Rex looked despondently down onto his cup, swirling it gently before taking a sip. You saw his shoulders relax as he breathed out, his eyelids fluttering closed for a moment. You realised then just how tired and run down he looked, and you became more nervous for him to disclose what had happened to him.

He began by telling you about what happened to Fives, what he uncovered and what went down in the warehouse where he died. He told you how he held him in his arms when he took his last breath, how nobody believed him and he had to go on knowing about the chip in his head without the knowledge of what it really meant.

You remembered seeing Rex soon after it had all gone down, and thinking that he seemed changed, as if he was trying to hold it together for the sake of his men. You knew it had affected him more than he was letting on, you just hadn't known why.

He told you that after you'd run away from him when his chip activated, he'd gone looking for you and instead ran into Ahsoka, and how she had helped him remove it before their hard-won escape.

“I'm so sorry General” He looked over to you for the first time since he began speaking, and you could see the tears in the corners of his eyes, “I tried to control it, but…”

He stopped speaking, his face contorting in a frown as he tried to quell his emotions.

“I would never have— you know that I'd never—”

“Rex” you stopped him with hand over his when you could see his emotions getting the better of him, “I know. I knew something was wrong, that it wasn't you. I could feel it”

His brows pinched slightly as he let out a deep breath, relief flooding his expression. He sat back, slumping against the back of the sofa and resting his head on the wall as he closed his eyes. He looked so tired and overwhelmed, and your heart ached for him.

“So… all of the jedi, they're—” you stopped short of the painful word, but Rex understood.

He opened his eyes and nodded, “aside from Ahsoka... yes. as far as I know”

You tightened your arms around your shins and let out a long breath, resting your head on your knees and looking down. You had expected as much. The loss you felt though the force was crippling, there could be no other explanation for such an agonizing feeling.

“I'm so sorry” Rex said quietly and your eyes flicked back to him. He looked so remorseful, as if he was carrying to whole weight of the galaxy on his shoulders.

“It's not your fault, Rex” you shook your head, “you're a victim of this as much as I am”

“I know, but—” his eyes softened, “I know how much being a jedi meant to you, I'm just sorry that things turned out this way”

You nodded, a sad smile lifting your lips, “me too”

A silence stretched out between you, neither one of you deigning to speak again for a moment as the gravity of the situation overtook you. Though, there was something still playing on your mind, something you needed to know.

“Rex… when you—” you chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment, wondering if you should bring it up, “before everything happened, you said you had something to tell me”

“Oh” his eyes widened for a moment, and you could see a blush grow on his cheeks, “I did say that, yeah”

You waited a moment, but when he didn't say anything else you raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

“Ah, it's nothing” he spoke with a nervous chuckle, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away.

“Nothing?” you asked, tipping your head to the side, an almost teasing look in your eyes and a smirk crossing your lips.

He huffed slightly, his cheeks darkening further, “you shouldn't look at me like that, General”

Your heart pounded in your chest at his low and somewhat sultry tone, but it only spurred you on, “why not?”

“Because… you're my superior”

“No I'm not” you challenged.

You were no longer bound by the titles that once held you from each other, and you watched with a somewhat triumphant expression as you saw that realisation set into his face.

“No… you're not” he said slowly, quietly, as if testing the words to see how true they felt.

With an unhurried pace, but not hesitation, Rex reached out took your ankles, drawing your legs away from your chest and draping one one of them over his lap as he shifted towards you. He placed himself between your legs, taking your face in his hand and taking a moment to cast his gaze across your features.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked, your voice breathless.

Rex's lips quirked up slightly, in a coy manner that you'd never seen from him.

“My orders” he whispered, his breath fanning over your lips.

You bit into your lip as a surprised chuckle left you. You'd never known Rex act like this, but you weren't going to pass up the opportunity to take advantage of it.

“Kiss me, Captain”

“Of course, General”

His lips captured yours with a celerity, much less reserved an action that you’d come to expect from him. His hands snaked around your waist, his grip on you tightening as your met the intensity of his kiss with ardour, pulling him in by his neck.

His lips started exploring past the bounds of your lips, trailing kisses along the underside of your jaw and throat, his teeth dragging along your collarbone. You could scarcely believe it was happening, and your fingers pinched the skin of your wrist to make sure. You felt Rex huff a laugh against your skin before he pulled back from you, which only made you shudder.

“Did you just pinch yourself?” he asked in a breathy chuckle.

“Shut up” you laughed in reply, an embarrassed blush scorching your ears as you pulled his lips back onto yours.

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565 @heidnspeak

hi big fan but too scared to publicly request 😭

could u do the Bad Batch boys reacting to female reader having a boyfriend they didn't know about? like maybe they're on break at the barracks and she starts dressing more revealing and cute and then leaving and they spot her with a man 😭

but ofc, because we love our clones more then other men, something needs to go horribly wrong so she splits up with them and comes back crying or something. you can add whatever twist you want, but (projecting here) perhaps the man was just trying to rush physical things with her and treating her like an object from the beginning and she just wanted to impress him until he started making her uncomfortable. hmm, very specific 🤔

anyway, love your writing so much. thank you 🙏

Your wish is my command

Word Count: 3.3k Pairings: Mostly platonic Bad Batch x fem!reader Warnings: objectifying d-bag bf, lil violence, a beer or two, jealous men Summary: The Bad Batch are back on Coruscant and looking for a night out with you. They find you and your new, unsavory boyfriend.

Frustrated and edged with exhaustion, Crosshair stomped onto the Marauder. He’d spent the last hour scouring the upper level of Coruscant for you to no avail. You’d missed your usual visit with the men of Clone Force 99 when they were on-world.

Visiting you became routine after their first visit to the Capitol. They’d come for special training before they were even assigned their signature armor. Ready for a taste of the real world, they’d snuck out into the city on their first night and right into the arms of swindlers. 

Somehow they’d fallen into the sights of a charming group of people you were all too familiar with. You watched the whole scene unfold from the balcony of your apartment. They promised to show the men a ‘good time’ and you knew that came with some unsavory consequences.

With nothing better planned for your night, you intervened and saved the men from, at the very least, being scammed. It turned out to be an unforgettable night with four new friends to boot and, when leave allowed, they’d find you for some fun.

So, with a few days between mission briefings and not knowing when they’d have leave again, the Batch tried to track you down. The problem was that this time they couldn’t find you anywhere - anywhere being your home or at the store you worked. 

Tech stayed with the ship while the rest looked for you. Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo were the first to turn in, leaving Crosshair to finish the hunt.

Hunter and Echo hung around the cockpit while Wrecker kicked back in a chair near the nav screens when Crosshair returned. As he sunk into the open nav chair next to Wrecker, Tech, wiping his hands on a rag, came aboard. 

Wrecker swiveled to face Crosshair with his head cradled in his hands. “Still can’t find her?”

Leaning onto his elbows, Crosshair growled into his hands. “What gave it away?”

“Did you check her coordinates?” Tech asked, seemingly exasperated by their wasted efforts.

“And how would we check her coordinates?” Echo scoffed from the cockpit. He and Hunter meandered their way towards the other three.

Tech looked between his brothers, disturbed by their blatant ignorance. “With the tracking device I gave her.”

Crosshair’s head shot up, masking his interest with a show of distaste, “You put a tracking device on her?”

Clearly offended by the idea, Tech snapped back, “No.” She wanted to make sure we could find her easily.” The silence that fell between them suggested they didn’t believe him. 

“You were all there.” He insisted, waiting for them to remember only to be met with silence. Sighing, Tech’s shoulders fell and he raised his forearm as he muttered, “Must’ve been when we were alone.”

Wrecker shot forward in his seat, jabbing an accusatory finger at Tech. “When were you alone with her?” The corner of Tech’s lips ticked up as he tapped through his controls, but he didn’t grant Wrecker a response.

They all seemed to forget that Tech kept plenty of information close to the chest. He also tended to be the more sober one of their nights out. They called him a lightweight, but having found it leant him private time with you he called it a fair trade.

After a few seconds, Tech pinpointed your location. Something caught in his throat when he saw how close you were. Tech proudly announced, “Found her. She’s at a lounge one sector over.”

His earlier annoyance faded as Crosshair pushed a toothpick into his smirk, “Sounds like she might need some company.”

“Well boys,” Hunter spoke up with a grin. Tossing a thumb in the direction of the exit he asked the group, “What do you think? Should we crash her night?”

Wrecker bounced up, filling the Marauder with a loud laugh. “You kiddin’? I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”

The men wasted no time in heading your way. Wrecker and Hunter led the group through the crowded streets, followed by Crosshair and Echo with Tech trailing behind with his face in a datapad, making sure they didn’t lose track of you.

Crosshair, noticing Echo’s half-worried look, tapped Echo with his elbow, “Lighten up, Echo. You might have fun for once.”

Used to Crosshair’s prodding, Echo rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice, “Yeah, well some people don’t like surprises. This is either going to be fine or be a complete disaster.”

“Most likely a disaster.” Tech chimed in from the back.

You were only a few minutes away in a dark, basement floor lounge. Amongst a smattering of half-empty booths and dim lighting, you stood near the bar with a small group of men. 

In the time between Clone Force 99’s last visit and now, you’d fallen in with a man you’d met through work. He was nice enough, persistent in pursuing you and his attention wasn’t unwelcome.

You found yourself answering his calls, meeting his friends, and spending time with him on your days off. Slowly the casual company became intimate and so you stood amongst his friends, in a dark lounge with his hand on the small of your back. The dress you wore, chosen by your new boyfriend, was a little tight for your taste and exposed nearly all of your back.

He claimed it would boost your confidence. The twirling he had you do for his friends suggested it was for his own ego.

Your partner promised you’d be gone by midnight - a promise he’d broken more than once so far. Impatience and boredom dragged the night out, soothed only by cocktails and the bracelet you fidgeted with.

It was a handcrafted gift from Tech and their way to find you. You’d asked for the device in hopes that it would make you miss them less.

It didn’t. You decided that next time you were getting their comm channel out of them even if by force. If there was a next time.

Distracting yourself from the idle conversation around you, your eyes drifted around the mostly empty room. The music was as low as the lighting, only meant to allow conversations to remain private.

The group was having a fun time, some of the jokes even broadened your smile, but generally you were counting the minutes until you could leave. 

Commotion echoed down the front stairwell, breaking the calm of the establishment. Loud, booming laughter quieted your group, piqued your interest, and dialed your attention onto a familiar sound. Your heart stopped when you recognized the sound of shifting armor. For the first time all night, a genuine, albeit hopeful, smile brightened your face.

You stopped breathing all together when the Bad Batch stepped into the room. As impressive as the first time you saw them, your five friends fanned out with each of them scanning the room. Crosshair, ever the eagle eye, spotted you and shoved the brother beside him, Tech, with his elbow.

They were looking for you, you realized. The thought propelled you towards them, your feet barely touching the ground.

You’d not seen the Batch in months. A part of you had worried for the worst - that you’d never see them again. That nagging part of you grew larger than you’d realized, big enough that the relief of seeing them nearly reduced you to tears.

“C’mere, Mesh’la!” Wrecker bellowed, catching you in his arms as you hurled yourself at him. His hands scorched your back, a sensation you’d not felt in the months of their absence.

The harder you held onto Wrecker the more his armor dug into you, making it even harder to breathe through your excitement. When he finally set you down, you immediately latched onto the next closest man, Echo.

The smell of you overwhelmed him for a moment and he had to bite back a groan when he caught a sight of your exposed back. Echo couldn’t even return the gesture before you pulled away and whacked his chest plate. 

Stiffening your lip, you made a poor attempt at a scowl.

Hunter stepped in on you, not hesitating in wiping away your budding tears. “That look says you didn’t miss us too much.” Being so close to you after so long gave him half a thought to kiss you.

“The tears had me fooled,” taunted Crosshair from somewhere beside Wrecker.

Despite the half-assed scowl, a smile broke through and relief warbled your voice. “Do you even know how long it’s been?” You demanded, casting a look between them all.

Tech came to your side, plucking up your wrist for inspection. “Ninety-eight standard rotations.” He said casually, removing your bracelet without looking up.

The anxiety that spiked as he let you go forced your hand to keep him close. Your touch snapped his head up and you tilted towards him, playfully purring, “Aw, you missed me enough to count?”

He opened his mouth, some witty remark surely on his tongue, but a different voice piped up.

“Should I assume these men are your friends?” Your boyfriend said from behind you. You’d all but forgotten where you were and who you were with. 

Immediately releasing Tech, you turned away from the clones, pivoting to stand between them and your partner. Flashing a weak smile you waved in the direction of the Batch, meaning to introduce them.

Crosshair cut you short by stepping forward, putting himself halfway between you and your partner. Sporting a challenging smile, Crosshair looked the stranger up and down. Clearly unimpressed he scoffed, “What’s it to you?”

A pit formed in your stomach when your boyfriend planted his hand on your back. The possessive touch didn’t carry the same flame Wrecker’s did, something you’d not realized up to that point.

“I try to make a habit of knowing my girlfriend’s friends.” Your partner said, accentuating the sentiment with a kiss to your temple.

Slightly horrified Tech recoiled, incredulously parroting in unison with Hunter, “Girlfriend?”

It would’ve been impossible to inform them while they were away, and you certainly owed them no explanation, nonetheless shame crept through you. Avoiding the eyes of your friends, you grinned at your boyfriend, “Let me introduce you to the finest soldiers the Grand Army of the Republic has to offer.” Proudly inhaling your smile grew and you added, “And my friends.”

Looking between your boyfriend and the group, an odd thought occurred to you. You’d never realized the man beside you was on the short side. Shorter even Hunter at least.

Wrecker placed a hand over his chest, mockingly cooing to Crosshair, “Aww, she likes us.” 

Crosshair snorted, when it wasn’t directed at him Crosshair went along with his Wrecker’s goading. Crossing his arms and leaning towards his larger brother, the sniper mused “She’s even blushing.”

Your boyfriend snapped his head towards you, annoyed to see that you were indeed blushing. He’d not seen you get this easily worked up. Although he knew from the moment you ran into Wrecker’s arms that he wanted you nowhere near the men. 

Slowly scanning your form, a condescending smile perked Crosshair’s lips. “Didn’t know that was your style,” He nodded at you, obviously referring to your outfit.

Crosshair never failed to pull a reaction out of you, this time you were  interrupted by your boyfriend slipping his hand up your back and down your arm. The action knotted frustration in your throat as it was what he had done with his friends. 

The longer Crosshair watched this man with his hands all over you, the harder Crosshair bit down on his toothpick. Since you’d first coerced him to dance, Crosshair’s own hands still ached to find their way back to your waist.

And just as he had with his friends, your boyfriend lifted your arm by your hand. He gave you a light jostle, encouraging you to spin around. “It suits her, doesn’t it? I picked it out myself.” 

Where the eyes of his friends felt oily and unwelcome, you only felt heated embarrassment in front of Clone Force 99.

The dress flattered you and you could admit that, at times, you’d imagined how it’d feel for the clones to see you in something like it. You wondered what it would be like for even one of them to see you as more than a friend. To find you attractive. Maybe even want you. But not like this.

Unbeknownst to you, the men did find you attractive. Exceedingly so even. You were a breath of fresh air for them and the only glimpse of normalcy they had. 

As opposed to spinning, you tried to tug your hand free as you mumbled under a smile, “I don’t want to do that.”

Hunter and Echo exchanged a confused look. Just as your boyfriend hadn’t seen this excited side of you, the Batchers hadn’t seen you like this. You looked uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend firmly held your hand. Groaning, he tilted his head back in feigned exhaustion. “Babe,” he dragged the word out before speaking to you like he was correcting a child. “We talked about this, lighten up and give us a spin.” 

Hunter caught you off guard when he pulled your hand free. While he kept his touch soft in light of whatever new boundaries your boyfriend posed, he wasn’t going to watch you be pushed around. Unwilling to risk your discomfort, he made sure to step out of your space quickly.

You almost stepped with him.

“She said ‘no.’” Hunter said with the authority of his rank. 

Your boyfriend scoffed and drew back in disbelief. “I’m sorry, where did you all even come from?” Either out of misplaced bravado or from the liquid courage, he advanced on Hunter. “Don’t speak for her.”

Blinking away the irony, you tried pulling him back. “He wasn’t,” you whispered in attempts to soothe him.

He yanked out of your touch, earning a growl from Wrecker. Raising his voice in challenge, your boyfriend insisted, “No, I think he was.”

Ever the voice of reason, Echo stepped in beside Hunter. “Why don’t we just take a breath?” Echo’s hazel eyes fell to you, brows pulling together in a silent question.

“I’m fine, Echo.”

“You’re fine?” Your boyfriend whipped his irritation around on you. A beat of fury pulsed between you and all you could do was smile awkwardly. How had this escalated so quickly?

“I’m sorry,” You chuckled in astonishment. “What’s going on with you?”

Neither of you backed down, in fact he only pushed harder by angling his face into your space. “What’s going on with me?” The smell of liquor on his breath finally connected the dots for you. “What other friends do you have that I don’t know about?” 

Suddenly, something caught his eye. Turning his attention to Tech, your boyfriend pointed at your bracelet in Tech’s hand. “What are you doing with that?” He asked suspiciously.

Tech, who had been silently picking the stranger apart, gave a scornful roll of his eyes. Tucking the accessory away in one of his many pockets, Tech said in a dry tone, “I don’t believe what I do with my gift is of any importance to you.” He may or may not have purposely mentioned ‘my gift.’

Wearing a confident smirk, Tech looked directly at the man beside you as he said, “It suits her, doesn’t it?”

As if on cue, your boyfriend gave you a seething, sideways glance, playing right into Tech’s hand.

Heaving a sigh, and trying to lend him the benefit of the doubt, you made another attempt at directing him away from your friends. “Why don’t you-”

This time he smacked your hand hard enough that it stung. This was a side of him you’d not expected and it was not one you liked. 

A snarl rippled through Crosshair as he lunged between you, put his hand over your boyfriend’s face, and thrashed him backwards. Wrecker cackled, only encouraging a wicked smile from Crosshair as he shifted over your splayed out boyfriend.

You winced at the spot of blood coming from his nose. Notably, though, you didn’t intervene this time.

Wrecker came around to you, resisting the urge to step the man on the ground by completely passing over him. Gently, he lowered himself to your eye level and lifted your hand. His touch felt so different from that of the man you were seeing, it made you completely forget the feeling in your hand.

They all made you feel so different. You’d missed them much more than you’d realized.

“You alright, Mesh’la?” Wrecker swiped his palm over your cheek and down your neck to rest on your shoulder.

The soft smile you offered him swelled something in Wrecker’s chest. Your presence created a soft spot in his life, making it harder to leave you with each trip.

You laid a hand over the massive one on your shoulder, “I’m fine, really.” Although it probably wasn’t ‘fine’ that you had to reassure them all over the behavior of someone meant to be your partner.

From the ground, the man in question snickered, “I see it now.” Pushing up onto his elbows, he spat, “You’re just a barracks bunny.”

The insinuation was lost on you but not Echo.

Echo lurched through the group, shoved Crosshair aside and ripped the drunken man by his collar. “You little scumslug!”

For what seemed like the first time ever, Echo had to be the one restrained. Hunter broke in and yanked Echo up before he could drill his scomp into the downed man. You and the rest of his squad all wore similarly surprised expressions. 

Seeing Echo lose his temper was the breaking point for you. The man you’d allowed into your life was still panting on the ground when came to stand over him. He didn’t say anything, knowing full well what the look on your face meant.

“Don’t call me again,” You muttered dismissively and said nothing else as you turned to leave, waving for the others to follow. “Let’s go guys.”

They all followed suit, except for Crosshair. He crouched onto the balls of his feet and leveled a sneer to your newly dubbed ex. Low enough for just the two of them to hear, Crosshair said, “We’ll know if you bother her again.” The sniper drew just an inch closer to hiss, “Come near her again and you’ll never see daylight again.”

Crosshair sat still for a moment, ensuring the promise properly sunk in. Having watched the color drain from the man, Crosshair flicked his toothpick into the sad sack’s face.

When you all finally made it back to your place, it was decided that a quiet night in was well deserved for you all. It didn’t exempt the night from at least a few drinks.

Returning from your kitchen with a round of beers, you settled onto your couch between Echo and Tech. Wrecker lounged on the floor while Crosshair and Hunter occupied the remaining arms chairs.

They regaled you with stories from the front lines in exchange for the quiet comfort of your company. Eventually, you reclined against Tech, eyes shut, as he scrolled through his datapad.

“Echo.” You said, seemingly out of nowhere. Peaking an eye open you lilted a suspicious smile his way. 

Mid-sip, Echo could only hum in acknowledgment. When you asked, “What’s a barracks bunny?” He nearly choked on his drink.

“Yeah,” Wrecker blurted out, the confusion coming back to him. “I was wondering that too?”

All eyes were on Echo as a flush came over him. It hadn’t dawned on him that the men of his new squad had little experience with typical trooper slang or the rumors regarding some regs.

“It’s...” He stuttered to get the definition out, ultimately shaking his head and setting his beer aside. Passing the buck to Tech, he chuckled, “You know what, Tech why don’t you put the holonet to good use and look that one up yourself.”

taglist: @baddest-batchers @bruh-myguy-what @jetii @zahmaddog

a/n: Thank you to everyone who offered me their words of support over the last month. It's been a really dark time and I'm always amazed by how lovely this fandom is. I'm forever grateful to all you barracks bunnies out there.

★ sakusa kiyoomi is probably the most organized person you've ever met. so clean, so tidy.

the two of you have been dating for a while, and you could never expect that he would be so messy eating you out. the clean and fresh sheets you changed that morning are stained with your fluids and his face is deep buried between your thighs. he is holding them firmly as his tongue lick and suck your clit. is not sweet, is not tender, is rough and sloppy. omi spits on your cunt before he puts two fingers inside you, thrusting you with his long, slender digits. you feel like heaven, your hand messing his usual perfect curls as he keeps devouring your swollen clit and stretching you with his fingers. you're the lucky one, the only one who can say sakusa kiyoomi is messy, nasty, dirty. he keeps eating you out like a starving man, like he's been in a dessert during weeks and he just found water. he mumbles against your core how much he loves his pretty girl as your walls squeeze him and you finally cum. of course, he doesn't waste anything. he lifts his face, his mouth and jaw wet with your fluids, as he kisses you softly.

"you taste so good, gorgeous. I don't want to stop never, give me another one, pretty girl. just one more. I know you can take it."

if you liked it please let me know!! reblogs are very appreciated ★ MASTERLIST.

Call It What You Want

Phantom Ghoul x GN! Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: a lil spicy (I couldn’t help myself)

Note: ITS BEEN SO LONG IM SO SORRY. Seeing ghost on Saturday really got me in the mood to write again. For my man phantom. I listened to Call It What You Want by Taylor Swift while writing this. I’m a bit rusty since it’s been a bit so I apologize in advance but please enjoy 🖤🖤

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat by yourself in the cafeteria with a book in your hand and a coffee in the other. It was one of those cheesy smutty-romance novels you couldn’t help but love. Maybe it was because you are in a desperate need of some romance yourself after your last relationship went downhill or maybe it was a great distraction. All of your so-called friends took his side of the breakup and left you in the dust. You couldn’t help but feel lonely sometimes but books were a saving grace.

Your face remained stoic as you read, getting lost in the words in front of you.

His fingers trace the shape of her body as her breath hitches. Stopping at the edge of her panties and gives her a smirk before he brings his mouth close and brings the fabric down with his teeth. She lets out a breathy moan as she feels his teeth grazing against her ski-

“Whatcha reading?”

A shriek escapes your lips and the book falls into your lap. You quickly cover your mouth at the noise you made. Heat radiates off your cheeks as you look up and see a ghoul. Your reflection staring back at you in the goggles of his mask.

You gape at him for a minute and remember he said something. He stares back in an almost giddy manner Slowly bringing your hand down from your mouth, “W-what?”

He grins sheepishly, “Your book,” he nods to your lap, “I was wondering what you were reading.”

Your blush returns and you wave it off, “oh, just some silly little romance novel.”

His grin turns into a teasing smile, “Sureee, that’s why you dropped it so fast.”

“You scared me!” You try to defend yourself but fail as a small smile fights through. His grin grows bigger and so does yours.

“I’m (Y/N),”

He stares at your hand in front of him. He places his in yours and shakes it slowly.

“Phantom.”

Your eyes glance behind him to see his tail waving in excitement. “You’re the new ghoul Papa summoned for the band, right?”

He grows shy, “Y-yeah.”

You sense his uneasiness and give him a gentle smile, “Well, I’m excited to see you play.”

His face lights up, “Really?” You nod and he grows excited, “I have been practicing with Sodo and I’m getting really good!”

You check the time and your eyes widen as you realize you're late for a meeting with Primo. You stand up and grab your book and coffee. “I’m really sorry, I have a meeting wit-”

Phantom grabs your wrist to stop you, “Do you think maybe I can play for you sometime?”

You’re surprised. An invitation to hang out with someone? It’s been so long. You give him a happy nod.

He jumps up, “Great!”

You begin to walk away before you turn around and give the ghoul one last smile, “It was nice to meet you, Phantom!”

His tail begins to wave back and forth in excitement as he gives you a wave goodbye.

Sodo stands next to him, getting hit with Phantom’s tail. He gives a shove to his side, “Cut it out.”

“Sorry.” Phantom gives him a sheepish grin.

“We got to work on that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Phantom continued to see each other after the first guitar session. He showed you tricks he was learning to play on tour, his solos, and even offered to show you how to play to which you politely declined.

He would meet you at the library when he wanted to see you. He would find a book to read and the two of you would curl up in chairs next to each other in the back of the library. Your heart fluttered the first time you had glanced over and saw him entranced by the book in his hand. His mask laying on the arm rest next to him, you got to study his features. How his hair slightly covers his face or how he bites his lip when he reads. You smiled to yourself and continued to read.

The following library visits turned to him picking out cheesy romance novels for you to read, purely judging by the covers, and you picking out some books for him. You both share a couch now and end up with his head in your lap.

You run your fingers through his hair, reading the page. Bringing your hand up, you turn the page and Phantom lets out a whine at the loss of contact.

You don’t notice, too busy with the words in front of you. Your fingernails gently scrape against his scalp. He lets out a choked moan. Yet again you don’t notice.

After a while you put your book down and glance down at the ghoul. You sigh, “You have such pretty hair. I hope you know that.”

A blush grows on his face but looks up at you steady eyes, “Yeah, well, you have such a pretty face. I hope you know that.”

Your laugh fills the quiet back section of the library.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were having a rough night. You had seen your ex and ex friends hanging out together and it triggered a panic attack.

You sat, hidden away in a back aisle of the library, with your knees to your chest. Keeping your head down, you count your breaths.

Footsteps approach you. They stop and the person sits down next to you.

Peaking, you see Phantom looking at you with a tilted head. You shake your head before hiding in your arms.

You hear him take off his mask and feel him nudge you.

Not getting anything from you, he pulls you into his side. He didn’t need to know what was wrong, he just wanted to be there. He began to trace shapes on your back.

After you have calmed down, you place your head on his shoulder. “Panic attacks suck.”

Phantom hums in agreement.

The two of you sat in silence for a while before you spoke up slowly, “Would you run away with me?”

It was quiet again. “Hypothetically,” you add.

He turns his head, “I would go to heaven and back with you.”

You stare at him with glistening eyes. You never wanted anyone more. You send Papa a quick ‘thank you’ in your mind for summoning this ghoul. You wanted nothing more than to lean in. Phantom smiles at you, “Hypothetically,” he adds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Phantom were the only ones in the practice room. You both sat on the couch as he practiced. He seemed off today but didn’t know how. He seemed extra twitchy. He brought up teaching you how to play again.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” He pleaded. He slid off the couch and onto his knees. He’s in front of you on his knees. You’re definitely mentally freaking out.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not good with my fingers,” You pretend to play as a joke, “See?”

He grabs your hands, “Yeah, but I am!” Your heartbeat quickens. Your mouth goes dry and you pray he doesn’t hear the thumping of your heart. He pleads again, “I can show you.”

You don’t even know what to say. Does he know what he’s doing to you right now? “I-..”

He slowly gets up, hovering over you. He licks his lips and whispers, “Please, (Y/N).”

He nuzzles his head against yours before your neck.

“You’re not talking about the guitar anymore, are you?” you breathed out shakily.

You feel him shake his head, “Please let me touch you,” he whines into your neck.

You’re so close to hyperventilating, you can barely hear what he said. He slides back down on his knees, his hands gripping your thighs as he looks back up with you with needy eyes.

You grab his face and lean down to kiss him. Another whine leaves his lips as you touch him. His skin almost burning to the touch.

The door suddenly opens and in comes Swiss and Sodo. You jump back embarrassed.

Phantom whips his head around to the other ghouls and growls. Your eyes widen at the sound.

“Well well well. What do we have here?” Swiss grins.

Sodo elbows Swiss hard in the stomach, “Calm down Phan, it’s okay.”

Quickly getting up, you apologize. You’re too embarrassed. You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for but it’s the only thing coming out of your mouth.

Grabbing your stuff, you head to the door, “I’m sorry,” you look at Phantom, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

He nods. Realization of what happened hits him and he feels just as embarrassed and guilty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Papa announced they would be performing at the Abbey, you were unsure if you wanted to go. It had been a week since the practice room incident and you hadn’t seen Phantom since.

Your thoughts have been too loud since. Maybe you offended him somehow or maybe he didn’t like you anymore. You’d gone to the library everyday in hopes he’d show up. Maybe you’ve read too many romance novels to still have your hopes up.

It was the night of the ritual and Siblings around you were buzzing with excitement. It had been a while since Papa performed for the Abbey and would be the first time the two new ghouls were to be performing on stage. Primo had essentially threatened you to come after you mentioned you were unsure. Needless to say, the old man can be intimidating.

The room is crowded and you make your way to the back of the room. You keep your head low, not particularly in the mood to see your ex and ex friends.

You felt anxious enough. Not only for seeing Phantom but you were nervous for him performing. He’s practiced so hard the past few months. You only hoped the siblings loved him on stage as much as you do.

The lights dim and screams erupt as Papa and his ghouls emerge on stage. You see him. Your anxiety disappearing as he begins to play Kaisarion.

You cover your mouth to hide your smile. He’s doing amazing. He displays such confidence you haven’t seen in him yet. He looks like a daydream. Your daydream.

Throughout the concert, he has become a favorite with the siblings as he blows kisses to the crowd and shows off his tricks like playing the guitar under his leg. Copying Sodo as he performs to the crowd.

You were unsure if he had seen you as the ritual nears its end. But Phantom had seen you as soon as he came out on stage. A light shined on you and he nearly tripped over himself. He knew if he stared at you, he’d get distracted and mess up the song.

The ritual ends with Square Hammer. The crowd singing loudly, nearing screaming the lyrics. With the final note, Papa thanks everyone for joining them. You cheer loudly with your heart full of pride. You need to tell him.

Phantom puts his guitar down before jumping off the stage. He has his head down as he makes his way through the crowd. He didn’t want to waste another moment without you.

He lifts his head up seeing you, you give him a small smile and little wave. He reaches you, pulling down his balaclava that was covering his mouth.

“I’m sorr-” he shuts you up by pulling you into a kiss.

You’re in shock for a moment before placing your hands on his and kissing his back.

Slowly pulling away with a smile, you both catch your breath. Your hands find the bottom of his mask, taking it off before pulling him into another kiss.

For the first time in your life, you didn’t care what anyone thought of you.

He pulls away first and looks down at you, “Hi.”

You grin, still holding his hands, “Hi.”

Giving his hand a squeeze, “You were amazing. I’m so proud of you,” you emphasized.

His hands caress your face, “I’m so in love with you,” he confesses.

You beam, “I’m so in love with you.”

The two of you walk out, his calloused hand in yours.

“So was that like a scene in one of your romance books?” He teases.

“Even better.” You cuddle into him.

“We can recreate the other scenes later.”

Your laugh echoes in the hall.

stark men and a tyrell reader

fem! reader terms and descriptions 

check this out for more cregan x tyrell!reader content: he that dares

a/n: this was supposed to be a brief, onetime thing but there’s just something about cregan and a tyrell reader that’s sitting with me…

robb is absolutely heart-eyed from the moment you step out of your carriage. you have the most beautiful light green and gold dress, pink roses embroidered onto the bodice above your gentle curves. you smell of roses and vanilla and honey and have the sweetest eyes and manners so robb is perhaps justifiably a little love struck at first.

but robb is observant and he sees things. you have made the entire castle love you which means the maids have the freshest linens brought to your room first and the chef bakes you all sorts of sweets. the other young lords of the north shower you with gifts and line up to dance with you at balls as you gaze down demurely and flutter your fan. you have acquired quite a large number of expensive gifts in such little time at winterfell.

and when robb is looking over battle plans and drafting mock strategy you elegantly peak over his shoulder and make a quiet suggestion that is absolutely ruthless and when robb plays out the scenario you have crushed the hypothetical opponent. he’s whipping around to ask you how you thought of that, but you have already wandered out the doors, light colored fabric swishing behind you. 

and the more he watches, the more he sees of you. a little eye roll when one of the other lords drops his hand too low during a dance, the way your long fingernails tap sharply yet quietly on the table when you hear someone say something stupid. a shake of your head and raise of your eyebrows when you turn away after having to be too sweet and too liked to get whatever it is you were after at that moment. and what he loves most of all is that look of absolutely judgmental irritation when you thought you’d been alone in the library and overheard some boys saying dirty things about one of the maids. 

and from that point on, robb is stubbornly determined - with that hardheaded resolve that men of the north all seem to have - to get to know the real you. but you have the sweet-as-a-flower act down to perfection and are not quick to break. you catch onto his little game, but against your better judgment you decide to play along. it’s endearing, almost. 

but one night at a feast you’ve been hounded all night by the incessant pining of a lord from a smaller house, who won’t let you get even a moment to breathe. and after an hour of sheer torture via the man’s slimy attempts to lure you into the hall, robb sweeps in to save you. his hand in yours as he guides you gently to the side of the room for a break. robb doesn’t say much, but with a gentleman’s smile pointedly makes a polite comment on the other man’s poor manners. and you are so annoyed and irritated you roll your eyes and utter the most scathing insult that you’ve been bottling up for the last hour.

the way his blue eyes light up would take your breath away, your lips parting slightly as he smiles at you like he’s been given a mountain of gold

“aye, there you are.”

he would say, an almost childishly proud grin on his face. 

—

cregan spots you above him on a balcony when he comes to king’s landing. it’s quiet, during the time when his army was keeping the court there. your elegantly arranged hair and delicately embroidered gown catch the stray sunlight from a window, bathing you in flecks of gold. 

the lord from the north stands below you as you gaze down with an unreadable expression - you had wanted to catch a glimpse of him to see what sort of man currently held power at the capital. what had intended to be a small scouting mission becomes a long gaze as you find yourself drawn in and cregan seems equally as enthralled. you tilt you chin down delicately, giving him a small curtsy before you slip off into the shadows of the balcony.

and it is an interesting game at play from then forth. cregan has many tasks to attend to at king’s landing, yet his eyes are constantly drawn to whatever area of the court you stand in when you are present with the other lords and ladies. you are quick to take advantage of this - introducing yourself, eyes gently on the ground as you curtsy in front of him. 

it’s a slow and sensual meeting - cregan takes his time with something for the first time since he left winterfell. his eyes fall to your lips, your collarbone, the curve of your chest that’s shamelessly lifted by your corset. and despite your intention to win him over for political reasons, you can’t help but pause a moment at the way your name is said, low and deep in his northern accent. and then he holds your gaze, even and steady, like he never wants to look anywhere else. the want is mutual and strong and both of you know it. 

cregan’s taking you in, eyes firmly trained on yours as he takes your hand in his own. but instead of kissing it as you expected, he simply lifts it slightly, thumb brushing over the pressure point on your wrist. 

“-no, i haven’t had the pleasure my lady.”

he murmurs, before you can finish your sentence. 

however, the thing with cregan is that you get what you see. he has that strong, unyielding sense of stark justice and it is everything to him, which he shows at court everyday. and you have been taught and raised to be more deceptive than that. to play your enemies with a bat of your eyelashes and a sweet smile upon your lips. your family expects you to win him over for their safety and security, and you love them more than anything.

but love lust is the death of duty, is it not? both of you have ‘good’ albeit different intentions - cregan is devoted to justice and you to your family. you two have a few things to teach each other about differing perspectives and upbringings.