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urhoneycombwitch · 1 year ago

Text

plan b

husky!neighbor!Eddie x neighbor!Reader

foreword: thank you to this anon, this was just the right amount of sitcom Spider-man pointing meme-ery that I needed. wrote this with husky!neighbor!Eddie since I thiiiink I’ve established that version of him is modern so hopefully this aligns with my made-up canon. lol.

wc: 1.9k

cw: weight mention (in the context of finding meds, no numbers mentioned), she/her pronouns used for R, embarrassment on R’s end of kink discussion, frenemies vibes between R and Eddie (they get under each other’s skin but in a hot way <3), Eddie is soft-domming in public, no actual smut but still +18 mdni

DISCLAIMER: Plan B can really fuck your shit up and shouldn’t necessarily be used when introducing new kinks. Please do your research and consult w/ a medical professional before using. Putting the fiction in fic with this one.

_____

Christ, there are too many options.

Your vision is swimming in the Family Planning aisle, fluorescent overheads of the CVS taking up residence in your left temple.

You press your fingertips against the spot, massaging gently as you pull different brands of boxes from the shelf to inspect the instructions.

This one says take within twenty-four hours, that might be- oh, shit, there’s a weight cap. Dammit. And this one’s… twice the price? For fucking why?

Frustrated, you shove the expensive thing back in place. The words on the blue label next in line catches your eye- Pre-Seed Fertility Lubricant- and you snap your hand away, as if scorched. Nope. Opposite of what you need. Christ. Pre-Seed?!

It’s almost giggle-worthy. You take out your phone, glancing up and down the aisle; the store is empty this late at night, just an older woman behind the front registers who had greeted you earlier with bored corporate formality, eyes fixed on her magazine.

Picture of Pre-Seed, taken. Check that one off the list. The only person who you’d want to share a laugh over text about this with is the one person who does not need to know why you’re in the goddamn Family Planning aisle at ten PM. On a Thursday.

At least, not yet. You lock your phone, pocketing it before zeroing in on the purple and green-themed Plan B that boasts One Tablet, One Step.

Although it’s pricier than some of the other morning-after pills, it’s the only one that you feel fully confident about buying. You give the box a little toss, feeling the next-to-nothing weight of it in your palm. Fifty bucks for a tiny pill, one that you may not even end up using- but you’ll be goddamned if you’re caught unprepared.

“Can I help you find anything?”

Your blood flashes cold, then hot, as you realize who the voice belongs to- attention focused elsewhere, you didn’t hear Eddie sidling up the aisle until now.

He’s leaning into his arm on the nearest shelf, grinning wolfishly at his own joke, chocolate eyes lit up at having found you here. He looks obscene- biceps and chest bulging at the stretched fabric of his t-shirt, hair unspooling dark curls from a low bun, black ink tattoos rippling over his bare forearms and peeking out from beneath his collar.

Honestly, you don’t know why he wasn’t stopped at the door by the woman on night shift. He’s bordering public indecency with those fitted Levi’s alone.

Fortunately the shock of hearing Eddie’s low voice is not enough to send the Plan B in your hand flying- too late to reshelve it without him seeing, you cling to it tighter, plastic creaking under your grip as you pray to every god ever that he doesn’t notice.

“Oh! Hey. Hi. Haha, very funny.” Well, that was smooth, but at least you said something comprehensible. “What’re you doing here?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss, using his free arm to reach for a pack of condoms near your head- “Late night shopping. Stocking up for the weekend. Can’t seem to keep these around, seeing as I’m being fucked out of house and home.”

”Well… apartment,” you correct, heart leaping at the smile lines that jump around Eddie’s eyes. This is good, maybe you can just keep him talking and find a second to shove the Plan B into a random spot or perhaps launch it into the sun-

Nope, too late. Mid-crinkle, Eddie’s eyes drop to the package in your hand, and you watch his face drop as he processes multiple trains of thought at once.

“Oh, shit. Is that… did we…?”

There’s a pinch between his dark brows, likely running through the last few weeks of your hookups (which have all been protected) and trying to do the mental math; you shake your head, trying to stammer through the flush of embarrassment that’s overtaking your system.

“No, it’s not- not from us. Not from you. I mean…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably from one sneaker to the other as words hit a jam in your throat.

Eddie’s in a full frown now, pushing off the shelf, standing to his full height, confusion and hurt seeping into his expression, voice quiet and pitched deep- “Is it from someone else?”

“Oh my god.” This was a nightmare, right? You’d like to wake up now. “No, no, not from anyone else. It’s-”

A sharp exhale, a shake of your head, and the words loosen all at once- “I was gonna get it for us, for me, for this weekend, if you wanted to give me a reason to use it.”

Eddie goes as still as you’ve ever seen him before, fingers stopped in their usual constant tapping, blinking at the box in your hands.

His face smooths.

Then he smiles.

Your stomach flips.

Eddie slides the condoms back into the wrong spot, not bothering to look as he leans in close enough for you to smell the spice of his cologne as he says in a sex-dipped timbre: “Well if you wanted me to fill you up with my cum, why didn’t you just say so?”

A horrified, awkward squawk escapes before you can bite it back; your head whips down the aisle to make sure no one else was within earshot of his dirty mouth as you blindly shove the Plan B away, deep into a shelf. “Oh my god. Jesus christ.”

”Eddie is just fine,” he responds mildly, the cool demeanor to your rapidly heating one as his grin simmers wicked between dimpled cheeks.

“Forget it,” you start, shaking your head and making to brush past, embarrassment flooding in hot, “Just forget-”

Eddie catches you by the elbow, effectively locking you in place with a single move, but he’s not looking at you; with his free hand, he snaps up the slightly crumpled box and scans the words.

“Y’think one will be enough?”

The flood subsides, gives you pause enough to stutter out, “W-what?”

Eddie’s fingers flex on your arm. He turns the box over in his big hand, rings glinting. “We’d better get two. Just in case.”

Your skin feels the impression of his palm even after he lets go, like a Polaroid in rapid reverse as he grabs a second box, warmth fading fast from your skin. “I don’t think- I mean, that’s not how they work, I should probably find a more permanent sol-”

“Just for the weekend.” His eyes are back on you now, self-satisfied smirk giving way to something darker, more intense. “Yeah?”

A shiver casts goosebumps down the length of your body. He’s goddamn toying with you, in the middle of a fucking CVS. Despite your flare of irritation, you nod, voice nearly a croak as you echo, “Yeah.”

The grin lights up his face again. “Good girl.”

Eddie doesn’t give you time to react to this (verbally, anyways- your cunt is most certainly responding to the praise despite your best efforts to remain unaffected), using one large hand to hold both boxes and another to press at the small of your back, leading you down the aisle.

Truthfully, you’re grateful for the help (regardless of his dominance-based tendencies that don’t usually get you this easy); based on the ringing in your ears, you’re doubtful of your own ability to navigate the maze of aisles.

Eddie walks you both to the front register, and you watch as if outside of your own body while the cashier scans the barcodes and Eddie swipes his card.

He pockets the receipt, slides a finger through the handles of the plastic bag, and holds it out between your bodies. Right in front of the goddamn cashier.

”For you.”

This brings you back to yourself, a bit, mortification giving way to annoyance (a much more useful emotion in this scenario), and you snatch it to your chest. It’s your turn to grab Eddie’s elbow, half-dragging him towards the exit.

“Come again soon,” the cashier calls, still in monotone.

So close. You’re less than a yard away from the sliding glass doors that would have swallowed Eddie’s reply- but as it stands, he gets in one last cheerful wave, an award-winning, dimple-charmed smile to match his bright response.

“She will!”

Damn him. You give a final tug and you’re both out in the parking lot, glass doors closing automatically with a whoosh behind you, cool night air kissing at your cheeks.

”Seriously?” You’re mature enough to recognize that your anger is misplaced, adrenaline-fueled, but that doesn’t stop you from whirling on Eddie, giving his shoulder a sharp shove that (unfortunately, tantalizingly) doesn’t move him an inch. “I can never return to this fucking store. Thanks for that.”

Eddie really doesn’t help his case, grin turned shit-eating as he rustles through his various pockets for his pack of cigarettes- “Careful, sweetheart- you know how hot and bothered I get when you’re mad.”

”Unbelievable.” You turn on a swift heel, slipping the bag loops up your arm to dig for your keys. “You just got me blacklisted from our local drugstore and you don’t even care.”

There’s the snick of a lighter behind you, while your car a few spaces down chirrups and blinks in response to the furious press of your fob’s unlock button.

Eddie chuckles, sardonic and unsympathetic. “Too bad this is the only CVS in the whole world. I think you’ll live, princess.”

Ignoring this, you stomp towards your car, petulant, bag rustling; the door is half-open when Eddie calls, “So, are you coming over tonight, or what?”

“Obviously!”

The door slams with more force than you intend, sound ricocheting across the lot.

From the respite of your tinted windows, you watch as a streetlamp-haloed Eddie takes a drag from a cigarette, smoke drifting thick around a hazy visage of the hottest man alive. (Maybe you’re a touch biased. But your opinion is based on personal accounts, so fuck the naysayers.)

He tips his head back to look at the stars, pale column of throat illuminated- with a flush of realization, you scoff. He’s putting on a show for you.

Two can play, you think, driving your seatbelt into place with a click. But first I’m gonna have to make a stop at home. Namely for new undies.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #husky!neighbor!Eddie #husky!neighbor!eddie x reader #eddie x reader

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lilac-5ky · 2 years ago

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TOJI AND VIRGIN READER!

The Favor (officeAU!Toji x virgin!Fem!Reader)

Plot: The first day you met Toji, he told you everything on his CV was a lie. Three years later, he's your beloved work husband, the one you go to when you decide it's time to lose your virginity.

Tags: Office!AU, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f.receiving), agee gap (reader mid 20s, toji mid 30s), soft!dom toji, dirty talking, praising, pet names (sweetheart, darling, kid, wife, whore, slut, etc), aftercare, toji catches feelings after fucking you, daddy vibes without the word, friends to lovers dynamic, size kink, lube handjob, MDNI obviously.

A/N: Combined your idea with my intense need to write an office!au. Hopefully this turned out to your liking and you forgive me for writing this much filth LMAO

Masterlist | AO3 | Requests

For promotion, for demotion, for raises and for cuts, in overtime and in bureaucracy, until layoff do us part.

In the insufferable reality of Japanese corporate life, a work spouse exists to shoulder the burden of overdue deadlines and never-ending stacks of paperwork. A husband who, in spite of not being bound to you through marriage, has vowed to stick by your side until either one of you breaks free from the shackles of human resources; your work husband.

You met each other on your first day at the company, both of you passing interviews for the same lowly position of staffing coordinator.

Your first impression of candidate number 9 was that his suit wasn’t really his but was likely borrowed from someone whose bicep wasn’t the size of their thigh and calf combined. Your second impression was whispered to your ear as the dark haired man rose from his chair and paraded down the interview room, nonchalantly letting slip that his bachelor’s degree along with every bit of qualification on his CV had been faked.

Whether that was a declaration of war or a testament to his unparalleled confidence, you wouldn’t know until a week later when you were assigned to the same miserable office corner, sharing a desk, a title, and a secret whose value skyrocketed once you became acquainted with your work place’s imposing policies.

One word would get both him and his knowing smile fired, but the moment you shook hands with Fushiguro Toji and promised to get along, you signed yourself up for a long-lasting partnership.

Over the three years you worked together, each grew out of their initial post. Your all-nighters paid off and you got promoted to an HR assistant, meaning you didn’t have to memorize everyone’s coffee order any longer, while Toji flourished as the department’s eye candy.

He’d ceased pretending that his broad shoulders could be boxed in second-hand suit jackets, and instead opted for rolled-up button-ups with the occasional monochromatic tie—a fit that put his sculpted physique into full view and threw the entire female populace out of balance.

He was an objectively good-looking man who bordered on great. The type to be conscious of their effect on others, cutting corners with suggestive glances and smiling his way out of otherwise unforgivable report oversights. Every woman in the office was openly in love with him. Even your supervisor referred to him as the team’s ace and discreetly unbuttoned her cleavage in his presence.

You realized then, they’d sooner let go of you and your hard-earned master’s, than part with the department’s mascot.

Despite the differences in skill and appearance, your sense of kinship survived the passage of time. Perhaps you’d subconsciously fallen victim to his charms, but whenever you saw his thin brows furrow and his right foot threaten the unresponsive copy machine with a killing blow, you couldn’t look away. This is a favor; you’d remind him at every formal email and resume assessment you helped put together.

And favors are repaid.

While Toji couldn’t assist with payroll processing, he always had the scoop on who cheated on their spouse with whom and whose bra was filled with padding—which you didn’t find all that interesting, but turned into a fun game of guess the cheater during dull 9 a.m. meetings.

On mornings when the alarm was hurled at your bedroom wall, he made excuses for your absence, and on work dinners, he saved you a seat away from all the grabby drunks.

Toji was far from a good person. His mere presence in a company you’d broken your back to get into was a mockery of your efforts. He led others on and got into muffled shutouts over his phone behind the water fountain, where he thought no one was listening in.

That’s how you found out about his eight-year-old kid and the custody battle with his allegedly “psychotic” ex-wife. He didn’t know you knew because you never told him. Everyone had skeletons in their closet, and it wasn’t your job to sort his out. As far as your work marriage was concerned, he was a good husband who diligently fulfilled his marital duties—all except one, which you feared the pretext of a favor wouldn’t begin to cover.

“Here’s your poison,” you slid the scalding coffee cup in his direction, mindful of the papers on his desk. “Black Americano with four shots of espresso and no sugar to compliment your wretched dark soul.”

Toji raised an open palm in your face, motioning for you to wait until he was done punching words on the keyboard and pressed save file. Your eyes were drawn to his fingers, threaded with faded scars that followed the expanse of veins down his wrists, dipping deep below the white cotton of his shirt. Another unsolved mystery you hadn’t gotten to the bottom of.

He brought the cup to his equally scarred lips, defying the steam spirals with a long-drawn sip. “Unnecessary intro, but thanks.” He gave a lazy smile. “Aren’t ya a sweetheart?”

You dropped your beverage on your side of the desk and swiveled your chair nearer. “Think you could do said sweetheart a favor?

“A favor, huh?” His breath was laced with caffeine. “Depends. If you’re asking for a buck, ‘fraid I’m all dried up till the end of the month.”

So he isn’t planning on paying for his order.

“I make more than you.”

“Doesn’t mean ya can’t find yourself in a pickle.”

You shook your head, stealing a sip of liquid courage from your mocha. How did people ask those things again?

Your contemplation lasted long enough for him to turn his head back to work, filling his home screen with enough tabs to distract you from his unfinished round of solitaire.

“What are you doing after work?” Your voice cracked into shards of uncertainty.

“Nice try.”He sneered. “You dug your own grave taking on the grievance procedures from the union. Climb out on your own.”

“Not everyone offloads their work load on others, Toji.” You rolled your eyes, scooting even closer to make sure only he’d be the recipient of your next words.

He sensed something was off because he wasn’t pretending to input random lines into the search bar anymore, and while he studied you, you studied him back. You had your doubts about this, and you weren’t sure he was your type either. You liked your men responsible and mature—like Nanami from sales, who would’ve been your first choice if your legs didn’t turn into jelly the minute you saw him.

Toji was the safe option. You talked to him. You joked with him. You were used to him, and more importantly, you trusted him. All the lack of qualifications in his job, he made up for with his experience in that other field you were a stranger to.

“Hey, kid.” His voice mellowed down with a beat of concern, a heavy hand landing on your shoulder. “If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble, I—”

“Please have sex with me.”

“Make yourself at home.” He nudged your back into the apartment, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were following even after he’d pulled away.

Moving forward felt hard—as if you’d forgotten how to. You weren’t sure whether to wipe your shoes on the mat or stash them in the corner. You didn’t know which foot to put forth and what set of slippers to pick. Every decision suddenly mattered a lot more than it should.

You’d never been to Toji’s house before, and up until a few hours ago, you couldn’t fathom standing at his doorstep either. You weren’t that close so as to meet outside work hours, but you were about to get a lot more up close and personal.

The way he accepted your request with a mere, almost offensive, okay still boggled your brain. You’d considered every question he could possibly ask, painstakingly compiling your list of answers like a witness called to the stand, only for him to not speak a word of it—not even when it was just you and him and the solitude that came from enjoying lunch a hundred stories above Tokyo’s bustling streets.

He seemed to have forgotten all about your plans, up until he pulled over at the bus stop where you were waiting and stuffed you in the front seat of his car.

“You coming?”

Kicking your heels off your feet, you skipped straight through the hallway, your head turning left and right as if you were at an art gallery. You didn’t know what to expect, but a high-end apartment in the heart of Minato wasn’t it. Neither your income nor his justified an inox steel kitchen with mahogany wood flooring—let alone a direct view of the illuminated Tokyo Tower.

You were so bedazzled by the city skyline that you nearly missed the hastily buried socks peeking beneath the kotatsu, along with the cobwebs his untouched bookshelf flaunted. Much like his suit, his apartment was handed to him by someone whose love for both their books and spouse had run out.

“Whaddya think?”

Toji stalked behind you, his reflection in the glass becoming more defined with every step he took. He was holding something in each hand—two glasses whose orange liquid sparkled in place of the stars.

You turned around slowly, accepting your share with a small smile on your face.

“Your ex-wife has good taste.”

He blinked, taken aback for a split second. He wondered what gave it out—the pink slippers or the flipped-down picture frames you’d yet to notice—and somewhere down the line, he got the wrong idea, beaming with an unwarranted “Thanks.”

“I meant the house, not you.” Although you couldn’t blame him for his inflated ego when every female practically dropped their panties at his feet. Especially not when you were there to do the same.

Your teeth clicked sharply against the glass as you tilted your head and sipped on what tasted too sweet to be whiskey. Apple Juice?

“That’s not alcohol.” You stated.

“Ever thought of becoming a detective?” Toji padded toward the leather couch, spreading his thighs across the two middle cushions.

“Ever thought of becoming a comedian?” You retorted, squeezing in to his left. The furniture would’ve been big enough to fit you both, had he been considerate. “So what’s the joke? Too young to be drinking, or hard liquor ain’t for pretty girls like me?”

“Nah.” His head dropped on his shoulder, both propped against the headrest. “Need you sober for what’s about to happen.”

You mirrored his stance, your knees touching as you folded them on the smooth leather. “And what’s about to happen?”

“I think we both know, or else ya wouldn’t have followed me here.” He wet his bottom lip, pretty green eyes clouding dark.

A certain dryness gnawed at your throat, the pink color of his tongue appealing to you more than it should. You weren’t interested in Toji, but the strands of black that fell over his forehead painted a cuter image than you were used to seeing at the office. You wondered what he’d look like with his hair pushed back, all slick from beads of sweat rolling down his temples. And when you realized you couldn’t pin any of those thoughts on the alcohol, you took another sip, hurriedly averting your gaze.

“How many have? Women from work, I mean.”

You were surprised to hear him state “None,” and even more surprised that he claimed not to mix business with pleasure. You could think of at least three coworkers you suspected he fooled around with. At least so they bragged in the ladies’ room.

“So why bring me home?”

“‘Cause you asked.” Toji said gruffly.

“You fuck every woman who asks you to?”

“Only the cute ones.”

Your cheeks flushed red as you reminded yourself to take his words with a grain of salt. He wasn’t interested in you any more than you were in him. This was simply platonic—almost transactional. He’d do what you asked, and then you’d pay him back with another, mundane favor like sorting mail in his stead.

You finished your drink, your eyes licking up the remaining drops at the bottom of the glass. “This line works?”

Toji shrugged. It probably did. He probably didn’t even have to open his mouth for it to work. While the moment you opened yours—

“Want more?” He motioned to your glass. You nodded, extending your arm, only for his expression to turn sour. “I’m not your fucking maid. Bottle’s on the counter.”

You sighed, getting up so he wouldn’t see your eyes roll at his comment as he shoved his glass in your face. Who’s the maid now?

Aimlessly, you strolled into the kitchen, taking longer than necessary to fill both your glasses. You didn’t mean to start snooping around, but you couldn’t help yourself from seeking a sign of his presence in his picture-perfect apartment. Houses typically reveal something about their residents, and while the display of crystal glasses spoke plenty of his ex-wife, there was no evidence of Toji’s personality.

You weren’t interested in him—just curious. That’s what you kept telling yourself as you picked up a frame stowed away behind an empty cookie jar.

Four smiles greeted you, the brightest belonging to a young girl with elongated bangs, holding a boy who strove to copy his sister’s expression. Their parents stood behind them, a beautiful woman with long brown hair tucked in a ponytail blissfully leaning against the shoulder of a Toji that seemed less happy the longer you processed his strained features.

“She left.” The proximity of his voice startled you. The frame danced between your fingers until he snatched it, his jutted-out chin betraying his annoyance. “Took the kids, left the house and me behind. Ain’t that what ya wanted to hear?”

You shook your head, about to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness on his parquet. However, the hostility that rose faded as soon as he threw the picture in the first open drawer and returned to the living room, leaving you to fetch your drinks. Then you remembered the phone calls. They weren’t on good terms.

“Having kids isn’t bad. Nor being divorced.” You handed him the glass, assuming your previous position on the couch. “Doesn’t ruin your cool guy image whatsoever.”

“Who said I care about that?” Toji snorted.

“Then you wouldn’t care if anything slipped in front of your fan club?”

“Mind your own fucking business.” He hissed. You chuckled. Sharing a couch wasn’t that much different from sharing a desk, and sharing two secrets was the same as sharing one.

“What are your kids’ names?”

“Kid,” he corrected. “Megumi.”

By the name, you assumed it was the girl. You were wrong. You tried to ask something about his son’s mother, but somehow you couldn’t find one right thing to say, since the woman in the photo wasn’t the boy’s biological mom either. You were lost. The more cryptic answers he gave, the more unanswered questions you ended up with.

Your plan took a backseat while Toji trod the sensitive topic of his divorce to that “bitch,” who’d taken his kid from him out of spite. The custody battle was tipped in her favor, courtesy of a legal system that’d rather see a child separated from its biological parent in the face of cold cash.

Megumi only visited every second weekend of the month, which explained his father’s eagerness to leave early on certain Fridays and come late on the following Mondays. He didn’t need to say this, but you understood his reasons for cheating his way into the company. A proper job looked good in court, and whatever earned him those scars was far from proper.

Both your hands emptied as you finished your second round of drinks. Your head would be buzzing if there was alcohol involved, but you didn’t miss it. Toji was hard to engage, and talking to him felt like running into one brick wall after another. However, working out of those dead-ends was preferable to clinking glasses with some guy who wouldn’t quit boasting about his Ivy League diploma or his burning passion for vocaloid singers—both cases reflecting the sad reality of blind dating in your twenties.

“So.” Toji drawled, a burly arm stretching behind your head. “Why you want me to fuck you? Can’t find good dick in the market?”

Your mind went blank in an instant, every excuse and curated version of the story vanishing when you needed them the most.

“I—um,” you cleared your throat, while your eyes scanned over his body.

There was a lot to take in: the fine lines of his pecs, highlighted under the taut white fabric; the black tie hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar; the hem of his shirt that dangled out of his fitted pants, exposing the tiniest window to the happy trail on his lower abdomen; his slim waist and his thick thighs; the curve of his bum; and the light touch of his fingers closing around your shoulder. You traced the same route of landmarks, finding yourself returning to his achingly handsome face and the playful curiosity in his eyes that had you shifting in your place.

All the reasons for someone to want to be fucked by this fine specimen of a man were right there, and you picked the most inclusive one. “Because you’re hot.”

The ends of his scar drew apart as Toji smiled a wolfish smile. He inched closer, your back hitting the armrest when his right hand caged your body between his arms and the couch.

“Bullshit.” A tickle from where his nose brushed against yours, and a thud from where your heart dropped inside your chest. “You think I wouldn’t know if ya had the hots for me, kid?”

“N-not everyone throws themselves at others.” You tried to reason.

“Maybe. But attraction comes with signs.” The side of his hand grazed the corner of your eyelid. “Batting your pretty lashes,” he trailed off, rough knuckles softly tracing the apple of your cheek. “Blushing your cheeks red.” The pad of his thumb swiped down your cupid’s bow. “Biting your lip raw.” He continued with his eyes, glancing at the skirt that lay high above your knees suggestively. “Pressing those plushy thighs together.”

“You do none ‘f those things.” Toji accused. “So why the sudden itch? Indulge me, and I’ll pound that pussy till ya scream.”

The promise of his words forced a gulp down your throat as your thighs involuntarily rubbed together. You started to reconsider. You didn’t want to fuck him just because any man would do. You wanted to fuck him because it was him and because every patch of skin he made contact with begged to be touched again.

“I’m a virgin.” You admitted, voice low, and stare even lower—utterly defeated as he flinched away in surprise.

You wondered what he’d say. A virgin at your age? was the most common response, followed by Is something wrong with you? and typically concluded with You sure you’re not a lesbian?

Everyone preaches how precious innocence is, but no one wants the pressure of taking it. What men really want is a woman who is both a saint and a slut—a woman who can suck their dick ten inches deeper than they can provide while simultaneously shying away from every insinuation of sex.

The problem is with the poor souls who belong in either category without adhering to the other, because squeezing your legs shut is just as faulty as spreading them open for the public.

Seeing as Toji remained silent, you realized you wouldn’t get an answer, and maybe it was for the best. You didn’t want to put a strain on your work relationship. It’d take a while to look him in the eye again, but in a month or two, you’d laugh about the incident over a cup of soggy store-bought noodles like nothing happened.

“Sorry for bothering you.” You mumbled as you picked up your last vestige of dignity and stood on your feet, only to be anchored by a set of fingers that tightly gripped your wrist.

“Sit.” His unfaltering gaze confirmed the sincerity of his command.

You thought about breaking free and dashing to the door. You thought about how much it’d actually hurt to let him ridicule you, and the tears started to build up on their own. And when you didn’t do as you were told, he towered over you with a palm that was eager to cup your cheek, tilting your face in position for him to print a rough kiss on your parted lips.

“I said fucking sit.” Toji repeated, while you contemplated how someone who spews words so harshly could have such soft lips.

Sheepishly, you fell back onto the couch, expecting him to follow suit and not kneel on the floor like he did. “What’s the story?” He asked, large hands taking hold of your knees and slowly rubbing them apart.

“What makes you think there’s a story?” You prayed that he couldn’t feel your heartbeat bounce across your body as if it were an empty vessel.

“With you, there always is.” He licked his lips as his eyes settled between your thighs, darkening with lust the second they were met with the damp patch in the middle of your pink lace knickers. “Wanna hear all about it while I feast on your little hole.”

“You’re not gonna fuck—”

“First things first, sweetheart. Gotta make sure y’are all prepped before I stuff you with my cock.” Toji smiled, pushing your skirt until it rolled over your stomach. “If ya gonna scream my ears off, better be from pleasure, mm?”

You nodded, watching as his slender fingers slid your underwear off and temporarily—you hoped—shoved it in his back pocket. You saw him marvel at the sight of your exposed cunt and wished you could peer into his brain to hear him curse himself for not coming up with this idea first.

You looked so pretty down there, your puffy clit safely tucked behind its hood while your lips shimmered with your wetness—the scent so intoxicating his pants tightened into a size too small.

He was already considering his next favor. Now that the door was open, he’d make sure it never closed again. Bending you over the copy machine was the front-runner. Getting a print of your tits squeezed against the scanner while he blows your back, his palm muffling out the pathetic sounds you let slip—he’d be lying if that wasn’t what he fantasized about whenever you refilled the ink cartridges for him.

“Ya ever touch yourself here?”

His thumb swiped over your clit, drawing an incomplete circle that ended with light flicks around the sensitive nub. Left and right. Up and down. Searching for the combination that’d have your body answer in place of your mouth, and when your hips bucked forward, he knew exactly where to press.

“Y-yes!” You whined, more as a reaction than an answer to his question.

“And ya ever push a finger in?” He continued, teasingly dragging his thumb between your lips.

“Just one. Rest hurt.”

“Mhm, bet they do.” He hummed as he tasted you on his finger, exaggerating the suck with a soft pop. “Ever had a guy kiss ya there before?”

Toji gave his own answer as he buried his head in your pussy, the sticky mix of his saliva and your juices trickling down your entrance while he made out with your clit. You struggled to keep your thighs apart, the raspy grunts at the back of his throat vibrating against your mound in joint symphony with your breathy moans. His tongue felt so good soaking on your slick that you felt yourself melting into a pool of pleasure.

“Get talkin’ or I’ll stop.” He warned, slowing down with broad, near-maddening, strokes that occasionally dipped between your folds.

“I wanted to w-wait,” you panted. “Wanted to fall in love first, but then I waited too long, and—ngh, fuck, right there!” Toji pinched your folds apart, his stare lecherous as he sucked the puffy pearl into his warm mouth.

Your body jerked in response, the leather squeaking hard beneath your bared ass. You weren’t sure at what point interest surpassed curiosity, but the signs were all there, manifesting as heat in your cheeks and blood that threatened to drop from your chewed-up lip.

His jade eyes narrowed into a shrewd reminder. Putting your thoughts in order was impossible, but if you stopped, so would he.

“Everyone ‘round me started d-doing it, and I was the only one l-left.” You tried to regulate your breathing through your nose, your throat turning hoarse from all the strain. “Went on a bunch of blind dates, but the guys were t-turned off, and—how the fuck are you so good at this?”

Toji chuckled, the pink tip of his tongue parting your lips in a languid motion that made you shudder. “Let’s just say my marriage didn’t fall apart ‘cause of this.”

He mounted your knees atop his shoulders and neared your entrance, with his middle and ring fingers ghosting over the softness of your pulsing slit. “Gonna use my fingers now. Be a good girl and cum on them, will ya?”

The first digit pushed forward, much thicker than any of your fingers. You felt so full already—nails digging into the cushions, while he thrust in and out of your walls, curling the lone pad to find a spot so sweet it elicited a moan of equal sweetness.

“Ya did well to come to me.” He continued, his raspy voice effortlessly sexy. “Kids these days don’t know shit ‘bout pleasing a woman.”

The veins on his wrist flexed along with his scars as his ring finger joined in the action to defy your previous claim. There was no pain. Only immense waves of pleasure leaking through your squinted eyes as hot tears beaded your eyelashes.

“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’.” He praised, repeatedly hitting the swollen bundle of nerves inside your throbbing cunt, bringing you closer to the edge with each thorough pump.

“Maybe I was wrong, hm? Maybe that’s what ya wanted all along. I know I did. Fucking wanted my hands on this pussy since I first saw ya fidget with your little skirt at that interview.”

“Toji—”

He dived between your legs again, his hand maintaining the same erratic pace even while his tongue hungrily lapped at your clit. Your head lolled back, the tension in your guts rapidly building up until you came undone, your pussy clenching and creaming around his calloused fingers.

You’d never finished so hard on your own, the tremors of your orgasm ringing in your ears and jogging your memory.

Your first impression on that day was sadness, right? Sadness over the wedding band the handsome stranger hid in his pocket right before entering the building, thinking no one else caught sight of it, and embarrassment about how your impure thoughts for a married man followed you into the shower every night after work.

“Atta girl.” A present-day and very-much divorced Toji licked his lips into a smile. “Their fucking loss.”

His knee pressed into the gap between your thighs as he stood on his feet and prompted you to open your lips. You took his fingers in your mouth, licking your cum off while your chest heaved with one labored breath after the other.

“See how good ya taste?” Toji cooed, rhythmically fucking his fingers on your tongue before removing them. “Sweeter than honey.”

“Thought you didn’t like sweet things.” His coffee order came in mind.

“How ‘bout we make an exception?”

You weren’t sure what got into you when you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him forward, kissing him with such vigor you’d never experienced. You always thought of losing your virginity as checking an item off your bucket list. You didn’t imagine you could ever lust after someone the way you currently lusted after Toji, your desire escalating into an all-consuming need.

His tongue moved as skillfully in your mouth as it did when it explored your pussy, dancing with your own rather than overpowering it. You liked kissing him. You liked kissing him so much that you wanted to incorporate it into your morning hellos and your evening goodbyes, dragging yourselves into an endless loop of returned favors.

Without breaking the kiss, Toji hoisted you up from the couch and held you in his arms, his palms finding the perfect excuse to grab onto your ass while he carried you across rooms you didn’t care enough to see. A door creaked behind your back, and soon you were tossed onto a large body of endless softness—a bed, you realized as Toji hastily shoved a couple of pillows behind your head.

“Ever heard of that stupid nickname that goes ‘round work?” He whispered in your ear while his fingers worked on undoing your blouse. “How they call ya my work wife?” His palms slid around your ribs and back to unhook your bra. “Guess this makes it our wedding night, heh.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a chuckle. “Don’t you feel any shame calling me your wife when you’re about to fuck me on your ex-wife’s bed?”

“My bed now, and what I say fucking goes.” He stripped your body from every garment, salaciously gawking at your nude figure on his (her) satin sheets.

You didn’t feel too bad about showing your body, but his stare was almost intrusive—especially with how he hadn’t lost a single article of clothing himself.

“Such a gorgeous body, wife.” He dragged out the final syllables, hoping to elicit a reaction separate from the soft pants you let out as he caressed your soft curves—both much softer than the bedding you were splayed across, liquid velvet in his hands. “Such a good little wife, saving herself for her husband to deflower.”

“Why thank you, husband.” You chortled, cupping his face in a deep kiss.

You knew Toji was the right choice. Not because touching him felt like winning the lottery or because he knew exactly what he was doing, but because he could’ve made this situation a lot more awkward and didn’t. He made your first time feel special, granting your wish of doing it with someone you loved, even if it was all an illusion that’d fade come tomorrow morning.

You almost thanked him as he began to unbutton his shirt, the display of corded muscles and pale scars breaking the dam between your legs. Whatever your type might’ve once been, was no more. It was all Toji, with his clenched fists lifting the weight of his brawny, veiny arms, his shoulders so wide you could ride on them, and the self-complacent smirk your stupefied expression brought to his lips.

“This ain’t an exhibit, sweetheart.” He mocked. “You can touch all ya want.”

He didn’t need to say it twice for your palms to roam his body, starting from his neck and slowly gliding down his torso, feeling out the tension in his steeled abdomen. His skin was smooth, except for the few unruly hairs leading down to the bulge in his crotch, whose sight alone made you lick your lips and buck your hips into his. You wanted to see the rest of him.

“You are the hottest divorcee I know.” You smiled earnestly.

“Ya know lots of ‘em?” Toji cocked his head while you shook yours with a giggle. “Don’t be so flattering.”

“I do have a great-aunt…”

“Oh, please.” He groaned, allowing you to laugh it out. He didn’t like how his bottom lip twitched as he struggled to contain a chuckle of his own. He’d long sworn off girls that made his heart skip a beat.

“Think y’are ready?” You nodded. Repeatedly.

Digging his knees into the bed, he stretched an arm toward the nightstand, fishing for a bottle in one of the drawers. Lube, you realized as he settled it beside you to remove his pants, flinging them along with his boxers to the other side of the room.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, an expression that didn’t look too good considering fear was about the last emotion you should be experiencing.

He was packing in every sense of the word. Long, thick, and definitely heavy as it hung above his hefty balls, the reddened tip pointing at your entrance. It wasn’t like you’d never seen a cock before. Porn existed, and so did perverts in trench coats, but comparing either one to him was both disrespectful and a huge understatement.

“Don’t go cold on me now, mm? It will fit.” He read your mind, taking your hand in his and slotting the bottle in your fist. “Prepped you so good for it. You’ll see; you’ll like this more than my fingers.”

“Promise.” He added, squeezing your hand reassuringly. You chose to trust him, and when he brought your other hand to his shaft, you knew what he was asking you to do.

The bottle spurted a thick glob of liquid that your palm smeared all over his cock head. Toji watched with bated breath as you stroked his length, each thorough pump of your delicate hands warming him up.

He deserved a pat on the back for not cumming right then and there—the distinction between the clear lubricant and his creamy precum becoming more prominent while he throbbed and twitched in your tight grasp. He thought about how much tighter your walls would be, milking every drop he had to offer while you writhed beneath him, with little ah-ah-ah’s and Toji please’s complimenting the squelching of your tight virgin cunt.

“That’s enough.”

He pulled your hand away and cracked the bottle open once more, rubbing a small quantity between his fingers and then scissoring them in your walls. You clung onto him, your hips chasing after his touch. Cute.

“Eyes on me, darlin’.” Toji leaned close enough so that your field of view was consumed by his face. “Keep your eyes on me, breath in ‘n’ out, and it won’t hurt one bit. I’ll take good care of ya.”

Your legs were parted as he ran his cock between your folds and pressed down firmly, his hand moving to your hip once he guided the first inches inside.

Toji was the first to react as he sank in deeper, about two-thirds in when he felt your pussy snare around him like a vice, the warmth of your walls making him curse under his breath. His last fuck was less than a weekend ago, and yet he felt like one of those loser kids he scorned earlier. He’d forgotten just how good being inside a virgin was—a one-and-done deal that would cease to amaze him after he fucked you into his shape.

“All good?” He remembered to ask, taking your strained yes at face value.

Small creases formed over your forehead, contorting your expression into a pained wince the further he sheathed himself into your wet cavern—and when his words weren’t enough, his lips took over. He kissed your worries away and cradled your breasts in his palms, doing everything in his power to keep the pain to a minimum as his hips met with your pelvis, bone against bone and skin against skin, until he finally bottomed out.

A whimper cut your kiss short, and for a second he feared tears would stream from your glassy eyes, not considering the possibility of your shaky legs wrapping around his back and your swollen, pretty lips calling out his name with a stuttered moan.

“F-fuck me, Toji. Please—fuck, I need you so badly.” You begged, dropping the pretense of composure.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck your little virgin pussy?”

“Y-yes, Toji, yes!”

“Yes, what, doll?” He teased. “Say it.”

“Please be my first, Toji.”

His grin turned feral in a heartbeat, your words stirring something in him that he could not explain.

He was prepared to spend the entire night fucking you at a snail’s pace, buttering you up with praises, and pampering you as if you were a golden egg goose, but now he didn’t have to. He could fuck you exactly how he pleased—fold your knees onto your stomach and hold down onto your thighs, pussy all exposed to where he could watch his cock pound into your hole and hear each and every strike of his balls against the fat of your ass—and you would take it.

But when he looked down and saw the ring of red that’d formed around his shaft, he had a change of heart. Maybe another time.

Planting his fingers on your hips, he withdrew slightly, purposely aligning his tip with the roof of your cunt. He didn’t have to go hard to make you happy. All he had to do was hit that one spot, and you’d be coming back for more. Having a steady thing wouldn’t hurt either. It was convenient—certainly better than burning gas driving across town just to pick up some random slut he’d tire of five minutes into her over-the-top screams. At least you lived close by.

With lavish strokes, he rolled his hips against your own, dipping forward to grind his pubic bone against your mound. It didn’t take long for the stimulation to get overwhelming, your hair falling from your strict work up-do all over your sweaty forehead while you thrashed around the sheets, huffs escalating into whiny moans.

“Sh-shit, gonna cum, Toji.” You managed, though there was no real need to tell him.

Your body responded perfectly to his, wetness gushing over his cock while your walls tightened impossibly around him. He fucked you through your high, wrapping his arms below your shoulders and muting your blissful sobs to chase after his own release. Your breasts were squeezed against his pecs, pebbled nipples making him regret not giving them the proper attention.

This wouldn’t be the last time. Your body was like a playground to him, and he sure as hell wasn’t done playing.

“My fucking work wife.” Toji grunted possessively in your ear, nipping at the lobe. Only his lower half moved, a constant snap of hips bouncing through the room as the second lewdest sound after the ones you traded. “Wanna send your ass crawling to work on all fours. That’ll show them, mm? Show them who fucked you so good. What a—fuck, what a good slut y’are f’me. From a virgin to my whore—hah, make ‘em all so jealous.

“Shhhhit, ya like that?” He interpreted your clenching as he willed. “Wanna start a rumor? Fuck on every desk, in every stall, and have everyone know?”

“Yes, Toji! Yesyesyes, want everyone to know you f-fucked me.”

You went back and forth between panting out his name and chanting yes, as those were the only two words you could mindlessly repeat. He wasn’t joking about making you scream. You were on the verge of passing out, so engrossed in ecstasy that you’d lost track of how many times you’d climaxed.

“‘s too much, T-Toji!” You begged, burying your head in the curve of his neck and breathing in his musk. You were both so sweaty, glued together like two puzzle pieces.

“One more, sweetheart. ‘m so close—wanna feel ya cum with me.”

He toyed with your clit until he started to fall out of pace, drawing his cock out before it was caught in the spasms of your pussy. A hefty load burst in his fist as he jerked himself off to your fucked-out form, hot drops of cum spraying your stomach like creamy droplets of rain.

Neither of you realized how soaked the sheets were until Toji left the bed, his eyes not faking their surprise. You didn’t seem to be in that much pain, and yet the amount of blood and wetness was at least equal to carnage.

Would it be a dick move to task you with his laundry?

He spared you a glance, not bothering to hide his smugness. Your legs were still trembling, your breasts puffing up in your struggle to breathe through your agape lips. He was tempted to tell you off—something cheesy like, “Want somethin’ in your mouth that badly?”

“Hey, kid. You are not dead—are you?” He asked jokingly, laughing through his nose as you found the strength to flip him off. Now that the effects of your orgasm were wearing off, so was your obedience.

“How’d ya like your first time?” A thumbs-up this time. “A’right. C’mere.”

The longer he let the stain settle, the more of a bitch it’d be to remove it. That’s what Toji told himself as he picked you up in his arms and carried you into the bathroom, returning to the bedroom only to roll the sheets into a ball he’d later discard in the washing machine. He wasn’t avoiding looking at your cute face, and he definitely didn’t think of your weakened infant-like state as cute when he scrubbed your thighs clean with a wet towel either.

A weird image sparked in his memory, one from the many nights you’d spent working side by side at a dimly lit office. He remembered you ordering him takeout and looming over his head like a vulture while he went neck-to-neck with the vicious spreadsheet program. You insisted on tutoring him, claiming your dressy outfit was a result of canceled plans—even though you kept stealing glances at the clock—and staying with him until the wee hours when you didn’t have to.

You really were a sweetheart, an angel, and all the other terms of endearment he used on you knowing they made your lips stretch and your eyes sparkle. But that wasn’t for you to know.

“Toji?” Your voice jolted him out of his reverie—frail, but not as frail as the hands that wrapped around his own to snatch the towel.

What could he say to make you leave without any harsh feelings coming back to bite him in the ass?

He pondered his options while you bent forward from where he’d seated you on the counter by the sink. You held his limp dick in your palm, gently wiping the dried blood and cum that clung to his girth.

It was sickening how quickly he stiffened, all ready to ram it in your pussy and fuck you with the mirrored view of your ass in the backdrop, but what truly made his guts churn was the little cheeky smile you beamed with. He stood by his words. Virgins were the biggest sluts.

The towel dropped to the floor as you pointed his cock at your entrance, and that was all the convincing he needed.

“Fine.” Toji sighed, pinning your wrists on the cold quartz counter top. “You can stay the night, but mention work and I’m kicking ya out.”

This is definitely not how you say it.

You made it to the office the next day after a brief raid on your apartment. Going to work in your previous day’s clothes screamed, “Look at me! I got laid!” And as fun as creating all those fantasies with Toji was, you could do without earning “Hated Employee of the Month.” Everyone hated you for being friends with him as is.

He waited until you’d changed into a presentable outfit and dropped you off a block further away for precaution. You shared your final kiss in the car, wasting a whole fifteen minutes sucking each other’s faces off like teenagers at a drive-in. Dating a colleague was against the rules, and you didn’t want to date Toji either. Not that he’d asked. Not that you expected him to ask.

Losing your virginity was a lot more complicated than you thought.

He counted on you to bring coffee, and you would have if an intense craving for spicy tuna onigiri didn’t win you over. The convenience store was right around the corner, and its coffee was honestly not that bad if you squinted your eyes and fooled your senses a bit.

You grabbed two onigiri from the stand—in case Toji felt like stealing yours—along with an apple juicebox, both as a means of thanking and poking fun at him. You paid for the items and walked to the office, nauseated by the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You should’ve really eaten something instead of having your final hookup at the breakfast table.

A few people greeted you in and out of the elevator to the forty-seventh floor, some commenting on your looking less gloomy than usual, but that was about it. The world spun the same way it did even before you had sex. No big change or mind-blowing epiphany; just a euphoric feeling of accomplishment that dissipated the moment you saw the stack of documents waiting on your desk.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Toji magically sprouted from behind, loaded binders balanced on his arms—the same arms that’d lavished you with affection all night long. “They had a fall out at one of the subsidiaries, and now we gotta clean up their shit.”

And back to reality we go.

“Where’s my coffee?” He searched for a cup on his desk.

You pushed your desperation aside and held the juice to his face with a smile that turned awkward the longer he took to accept it.

“It’s um, you know.” You stepped closer, placing the box atop his mountain of files. “Thank you.”

“Also, got you this, so don’t even think of taking mine.” You balanced the onigiri beside the juice and plopped down on your chair, an antsy, blushing mess that refused to meet his stare until he looped an arm around your headrest and attached his mouth to your ear.

“Care to do me a favor?”

#Toji x reader #toji smut #fushiguro toji #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #toji <3 #toji headcanons #toji fic #toji x you #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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ayeforscotland · 1 year ago

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Honestly I am in favour of some sort of compulsory civilian service - I believe in Austria you can opt to do that instead of compulsory military service. 12 months compulsory working for the police, NHS, fire service, or in the national parks or something. All the benefits of military service and much less fascist vibes. It could massively change the dynamics of eg the police to have the actual population reflected in their make up, increase social mobility through mixing with people from different backgrounds and getting a solid CV started, and much less chance for rich people to pay a doctor to say they should be medically exempt like in other countries.

Yeah, I get where you’re coming from. I think it’s a policy which can sound really good on paper, but I still think the implementation UK-wide would end up being a nightmare.

Cash-strapped local councils etc aren’t going to devote any resources to facilitating it.

A government job-guarantee program would be a lot more interesting, and could hugely impact social mobility.

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seafoamreadings · 5 months ago

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week of february 2nd, 2025

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: venus moves into your sign this week. while venus is classically debilitated in your sign, it just means the energy is not very natural to her. venus in aries is actually lovely as a force for the beauty of justice, and she can make you quite charismatic as well. embrace aesthetics and a little romance.

taurus: while many parts of your chart are active this week, the epicenter of activity is your career, reputation, and public image/status. there are changes coming to this realm and you will do well to put some effort into aligning those changes with the legacy you want to leave, the imprint you wish to make on the world.

gemini: you have great money vibes this week, especially if you are pursuing higher education, spirituality, or foreign travel. jupiter also goes direct in your sign this week, likely bringing helpful people. remember, it's auspicious to also be a helpful person yourself.

cancerians: if you need to do any reputation damage control or prettying up your social media or resume/cv, this week is a perfect time, especially once venus is ensconced in aries. in general you're going to have sort of low energy, so get lots of sleep!

leo: if a friends to lovers story is your idea of fun it's quite probable this week. you'll need to be looking out for it but it will be unmistakable when you do see it. and if that's not really your thing (or in addition to it) you can still make the most of the week's astrology by doing something really nice for a close friend, and appreciating them when they are there for you.

virgo: it's not the sort of week that you can expect things to go according to even your most impeccably laid plans. lean into your natural mutability and embrace unexpected changes instead of letting them chafe and irritate you.

libra: good air vibes continue. these are hard times broadly but for you on a personal level many good things occur and beauty exists everywhere. try to spread some of that to people who struggle more to see it.

scorpio: no matter how developed and complete you may have thought your spirituality to be, your philosophical approach to it continues to develop at light speed this week. don't try to dig in your heels about it but go with the flow instead. you are meant to change and not stagnate, fixed sign though you may be.

sagittarius: your ruling planet jupiter goes direct this week and you may even instantly feel like any stuckness in your life is magically undone and you can move forward (or at all) again. if stuckness hasn't been an issue rest assured good things are occurring for you behind the scenes if not before your eyes.

capricorn: your week consists of mainly minor influences but there is overall a push that you should be having fun, and not forcing yourself to go through rote motions for money or corporate points. it's not a bad time to "touch grass".

aquarius: jupiter direct brings you fun and even romance if you're open to it, but at the same time ceres in your sign square uranus in taurus is a strange standoff that can put you in somewhat unhealthy situations. try to form, or improve, a healthy and stable foundation so that when wobbly aspects like this come up you can regain your footing easily.

pisces: a surreal quality continues into this week. but now you may find you are a little bit more in your head than in some alternate dimension or dreamscape. keep one foot on the ground, and continue to avoid excess or addictive tendencies. indeed, it's not a bad idea to relax at home and see what good fortune just lands at your doorstep for now.

watch the transit posts in real time to have the best guide through your week. want a little more? have a look at my patreon or ko-fi.

check out my etsy for a private reading or fill out this form to set up a reading through venmo, cashapp, or paypal.

#astrology #horoscopes #horoscope #weekly horoscopes #weekly horoscope #signs #zodiac #aries #taurus #gemini #canceer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #pisces #aquarius

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bertoltblecht · 1 month ago

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On Call - Ten

A/N: Thanks for hanging in there! The people in my mind jar started doing things again finally, so I wrote it down for y'all Please enjoy, please comment, please chat!

Word count: 4232

Rated: Mature

Tags: Angst, Mutual Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Tension, Sex, Mutual Pining, Suicidal Ideation, Anxiety, Comfort/Hurt, Where the comfort also hurts, a lot of baseball talk tbh

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One long weekend of good sleep wasn’t enough to make the deep, humming exhaustion in Rose go away. Especially not when it was followed by another month and a half of scattered, inconsistent night and day shifts to close out the chaotic summer.

If she stood with her eyes closed for long enough, Rose could convince herself she didn’t have to open them again; she could simply stop time to take a break. The thought alone was almost rejuvenating.

It wasn’t stress, or the workload, or even the weird hours that were getting to her. It was how deep she let herself sink into her flow charts. The way she moved through choices automatically when she wasn’t at work and forcing her active mind to be present. The inertia of using all her time either working or keeping herself alive left her feeling scraped out. A pumpkin prepared for carving.

Her only real human contact outside the work was Robby. It was even easier falling into the habit this time around, harder to resist the fact that he was rarely ever more than ten minutes away. It was simple enough for him to stop by his own home after staying the night at hers. One evening, they ran into each other at the grocery store and ended up taking everything back to her place. He took his rice, half and half, frozen chicken thighs and assorted fresh produce home with him the next morning in a tote bag plucked from her kitchen closet. Sometimes he texted first, sometimes he just showed up.

It had been over a week since their time off had aligned at all. Rose was moving back from nights to days, except for the last three nights she had covered shifts.

It was late afternoon and Rose had only been in the Pitt a couple hours but already her eyes were rubbing uncomfortably against their sockets.

“Y’alright, babe?”

It would be rude to sigh at someone checking in, especially Dana, so Rose pushed a smile on her face and forced her eyes open. “Yeah, I’m waiting for the caffeine to hit and hold me up.”

The older woman smiled and pulled her into a side hug, giving her a squeeze. “Few more hours.”

“Don’t say that to me, I just got here,” Rose groaned with a laugh, leaning into Dana wearily. “I came in midday to work through the night shift. Keep me in your prayers.”

She was covering for one of Abbot’s third-year residents who had confided in Rose that she was attending a wedding but had called out sick officially.

The charge nurse frowned. “I saw you around late this morning. How long were you home, five minutes?”

“Don’t ask me to do the math. It’ll give me a headache and then someone could die, and that someone could be me.”

”I’ll give you a headache, alright. You need another cup of coffee. It’s bad vibes for your doctor to look half dead.” Dana nudged Rose away before tossing a candy bar at her with an affectionate eye roll.

After catching the projectile, Rose held it against her chest gratefully, nodding in thanks. “Will work for Snickers was on my CV actually, you got me there.”

She didn’t mind moving along – mostly because there was a group of college aged kids bickering from their curtained areas and the board said “excessive bee stings” for all four of them. Rose absolutely loved the moronic youth of the Pittsburgh area.

Across the charge desk, Robby was going over the handoff with Jack.

“Sorry, what the fuck does fighting bees mean?” Dr. Abbot’s tone conveyed wary disdain, like he already knew he hated the answer and wasn’t certain he wanted to know.

Robby feigned surprise with furrowed brows. “You never fought bees in your younger days?”

At Jack’s unamused stare, he continued, “They said they poked at a hive with a stick until the bees swarmed and the first one stung lost.”

A long moment of silence passed between them.

“Some really great people died for their freedom to fight bees,” Abbot said dryly, shaking his head before looking down at a chart. “Reilly wasn’t here all day, right?”

“She left sometime after you this morning but came back around 5. She’s in for Dr. Keat tonight.” Only the end-of-shift exhaustion prevented Robby from keeping vague disappointment out of his tone. He was headed to his own place tonight.

Jack grunted in acknowledgement.

“You’ve worked with her a lot lately, how’s she doing?” Robby was satisfied with how professional the inquiry sounded. Nothing to give away that he saw her whenever their schedules allowed him to slip off to her apartment and steal some downtime. The Pirates were only five games over .500 and they had lost the last three Robby watched alone. Not that he was keeping track, of course.

The inquiry was mostly professional. He was curious what Jack thought of her performance lately, but he was also checking if she had seemed off while at work. Of the attendings, Robby had worked the fewest shifts with her recently and they didn't talk a lot about cases when they were spending time together. Plenty of that to be had at work.

Robby couldn’t quite place what was concerning about Rose’s demeanor recently. It wasn’t anything especially alarming. She just seemed like Rose passed through a sieve - filtered once. Like he was always getting her second reaction, not her first. When she was especially tired, he swore he could see the gears turning behind her eyes and he wanted very badly to know what she was processing with all that bandwidth.

Whatever minor fear Robby held that Jack would sense the less-than-professional undertones of his question proved unfounded. The other attending only glanced at him for a moment before answering. “Haven’t found her on the roof again since prom and she knocks it out of the park when she’s here. Which feels like always.”

“She was on the roof that morning?”

A nod. “She worked too many hours and too many people died on her and you freaked her out.” Jack looked up to meet his gaze, raising his eyebrows and tipping his head down.

Robby held in a sigh and stopped himself from bristling. They had talked about it, but he couldn’t very well tell Jack the details of when or how she had roasted him.

“I apologized for both the timing of the lecture and the nickname.” Robby rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders meeting his ears.

Jack rolled his eyes before continuing. ”She was sitting at the railing. Accused me of babysitting, decided she had enough of my lovely company and headed home.”

Not to her home, Robby thought.

“Is your company more pleasant when you aren’t the one staring over the edge?” he asked mildly, raising an eyebrow and making Jack narrow his eyes.

“Now you’re just being rude,” the other deadpanned. “That’s okay, I can handle it. You’ve probably had a long day. Maybe you should take off before you hurt someone’s feelings though,” he suggested with an air of dramatic offense.

“I think I’ll finish my charts, actually,” Robby said with a small smirk as he turned back to the computer.

A moment later, he squinted wearily in the direction of the bee fighters when Rose called for multiple rounds of epi and the assistance of the med student walking past.

She emerged seconds later gently pushing two panicking young women covered in angry, red welts back toward their own beds.

“Please sit and breathe, they will be alright. We are helping them,” she assured them expediently before departing to address the delayed anaphylaxis and the escalating tensions between the two friends. There was some commotion of IV stands knocking into each other and bed wheels squeaking.

“Hey! You can’t fight here. We charge extra for injuries you give each other at the ER.” They heard Rose’s sharp, no-bullshit tone. “Both of you lay back now, or you risk dying instead of getting to kill each other later.”

Robby and Jack shared a glance and made to move in that direction, but the lack of further cacophony prompted them both to hesitate and then return to their charting.

A few minutes later, as Robby was logging out of the system, Rose came over to lean on the desk between him and Abbot.

“Those girls should get some kind of revenge or financial compensation for the idiocy of those guys,” she said in an exaggerated whisper.

“I think that would be for a judge or jury to decide,” Robby replied equally conspiratorially.

“The financial compensation. Not revenge, unfortunately,” Abbot chimed in, not even bothering to whisper.

“Revenge should be an option. I should have become a lawyer,” Rose sighed.

After a moment, Jack looked up from his computer screen. “Ooh, you grew up with idiots like that - did they ever fight bees, Dr. Reilly?”

His eyes glinted with curiosity the way they always did when he asked if she had first-hand knowledge of something he thought might be a local flavor of stupid.

Rose gave an indignant huff of a laugh before shaking her head. “No – but my cousin once hit a beehive with a wiffle ball bat directly into his little brother, who is probably only alive because I had an EpiPen.”

“I knew you would have a story.” Abbot nodded with a self-satisfied grin. “Hero to the stupid and those caught in the crossfire of the stupid.”

“They’d build me a statue, but the stupid cannot get their shit together about fundraising.” She shrugged helplessly.

Abbot suppressed a snort. “You think the fundraising would be their last issue? They’d never get the paperwork done.”

Robby chuckled, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “I should ask you both to go back to work, but I’m off the clock now.”

“You’re not the boss of me anyway,” Jack retorted. “You’ve handed over the keys. Run along home now, I’ve got it.”

A scoffing laugh left Robby. “Dr. Pace will be in tomorrow morning, I’m off for the day. I’m leaving now before anyone else needs anything at all.”

Jack waved a hand dismissively as he left the charge desk for rounds. “Yeah, yeah. Go on, get.”

“Have a good night.” Rose smiled easily at him and he met her tired gaze, smiling back. The glance was a half second, barely meeting the definition of lingering, and then he was gone.

“Are you too busy being a hero for rounds, Dr. Reilly?” Abbot called from near room one. --------

Exhaustion always came in waves, which meant that if Rose could push through, she would eventually hit another valley to jovially sprint down into. It was a struggle to keep the plates spinning a couple times during her shift, but she could have had 8 hours sleep with the way she felt walking out into the sunlight.

Being faced with daylight hours that belonged only to her again, Rose started to feel unsettled. The lull between 3 and 4 am tricked her into having more caffeine to keep the gears turning. Now the faux-energy made her chest feel tight and the edges of her vision blur when she turned too quickly.

Navigating the street in the post-shift haze felt somewhere between having superpowers and taking the moving walkway at the airport after hungover mimosas. A little good, but mostly wrong.

Heading to Terry’s cafe wasn’t even a question, but she wondered if she could just show up at Robby’s the way he did at hers. Rose had ten minutes to kill before the cafe opened to think about whether it was selfish to want to bring breakfast to his apartment and fuck him until her brain turned off and she collapsed into sleep.

He should be so lucky to have the privilege, the indignant part of her insisted. The messaging could have been half as convincing and Rose still would have bought two sandwiches and turned down Robby’s street.

It was only when she was standing at the bottom of his stairs that she considered for a moment maybe she should have texted first. The early hour wasn’t what caused her to hesitate - it was the unspoken wall around his apartment.

They were once again exclusively hooking up at Rose’s, and while she didn’t much care where she passed out, a part of her felt as though she was fully naked and he was half-dressed. Rose thought the situation was meant to be uncomplicated. In reality, it was only undiscussed.

The Robby who joked about stealing her new mattress and drank all her milk felt like an imaginary friend sometimes when she was alone and irrationally anxious that she somehow stopped existing when she wasn’t being useful to anyone. If she needed a physical presence, a warm body, or someone to watch baseball with, Robby was very good at all three. When she was alone and needing an ill-defined, existential something, she couldn’t bring herself to even text him. If he wanted this to be anything more than the exact casual fling they had going, he would say something. And really, what more was there? What additional time or energy did either of them have to offer another person?

Emotional support, her brain provided unhelpfully.

That was long since something Rose had adapted to cope without. Once she learned that her emotions could be distressing to others, it seemed like the kind thing to do was not inflict them on people. Especially irrational feelings, which she felt most of hers were.

There were a lot of people who cared about her, that wasn’t it at all. It could also be said Robby made genuine efforts to be emotionally supportive, even if it was only due to his pathological need to be the most helpful man alive to whichever person happened to be in front of him at any given moment. So what was she supposed to do? Ask to be cared about more in a non-specific, abstract way?

Much safer to take what she was getting while it lasted. The sex, the sleep, the company. Whatever.

Rose’s legs carried her up the stairs, and she knocked three times quickly before she could talk herself out of it.

The door opened about a minute or so later. Robby looked alert in a threadbare grey t-shirt and gym shorts, so at least she didn’t wake him up. He also looked very surprised to see her.

“Woah, hey, is everything okay?” His expression pinched with concern and Rose couldn’t be sure if it was because she looked like something was wrong or he thought she would only come by if something were wrong. Her thoughts were swept away entirely by that consideration, and she didn’t respond.

“Rose?” Robby prompted again with a nervous chuckle.

Shaking her head, Rose squeezed her eyes closed for a second before opening them with a smile. “Sorry, yes, long night.” She had to take a breath between sentences as her chest tightened and her lungs ran out of air unexpectedly. “Do you want to have breakfast? I brought sandwiches.”

His gaze found the paper bag in her hand and then returned to meet her eyes, assessing her for a moment before stepping out of the way. “Sure, yeah. C’mon in.”

Robby moved inside and leaned against his counter as he watched her take her shoes off and set her things down.

“Did your shift go alright?” he asked, tone not unlike when he approached panicking med students.

Rose raised an eyebrow as she passed him into his kitchen. “Yeah, why?”

”I don’t know. You’re here.” It sounded stupid when he said it, but he didn’t want to tell her she looked distressed.

“Is that not okay?” Her voice had a light edge, as if daring him to tell her that he didn’t want her in his apartment.

“That’s not what I said,” Robby corrected quickly. He didn’t want to verbally spar with Rose; he knew he didn’t stand a chance. Even sleep deprived, she had a response for everything.

“You know, you could just ask me if I’m good,” Rose pointed out as she removed the sandwiches from the bag.

“Are you good?” he asked immediately, bending his knees and tipping his head down to meet her eyes.

“No. So I’m here to eat a sandwich and have sex. Is that alright with you?” She met his gaze and blinked at him.

Robby couldn’t help the surprised laugh that left him. “Well I want to say buy me dinner first, but you brought a meal with you.”

“Yeah I did.” One half of Rose’s mouth tipped into a smirk as she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

He laughed again but then shook his head, waving his hands in front of him. “Okay, come on. Seriously. Did something happen during the night shift?“

Jack sent him a text about Gloria cornering him on his way out, but he hadn’t mentioned anything else.

“Jesus, no. Nothing happened. It was a normal shift.” A heavy sigh left her. She wasn’t expecting nearly this level of pushback.

“Then I don’t understand...” Robby started, but trailed off and looked at her expectantly to continue.

“There isn’t anything to understand. How are we back to this? Do you want me to go?” Rose gestured vaguely over his shoulder at the door.

“No, I’m just confused.” The genuine frustration in his tone shouldn’t have brought her the small amount of satisfaction it did. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

“Talk about what?”

“Not being okay.”

“It isn’t high on the list of things I came here for. And I said I wasn’t good, but I am okay.”

“You know, you once said you were good at answering questions, and I think I’d like to revisit that assessment.” Robby made the conscious choice to move on from frustrated confusion to exasperated amusement. He remembered he just had a full night’s sleep and Rose was coming off shift. He could be prickly when asked about his day too.

Taking a deep breath, Robby reached out to press his palm to the side of her neck, thumb sliding over her jaw. “I wasn’t trying to have a boxing match, just wanted to check in because you haven’t shown up here like this before. Can we circle back to this another time so you can explain the difference between ‘good’ and ‘okay’ to me?”

All at once any combative energy in Rose evaporated, leaving her feeling bad she came into the interaction defensive. She looked down and dug her teeth hard into her upper lip for a moment before she spoke. “I’m sorry for just showing up...”

“No need to apologize for that,” he interrupted, nudging her chin up to look at him.

“I’m okay,” she insisted quietly after a moment. “I’m just… tired.” The last word came out in a whisper as her vocal cords strained against the sudden emotion. There weren’t better adjectives. No complicated German compound word for the fathomless exhaustion she couldn’t relieve.

At that, Robby could only nod, dropping his hand to her hip to pull her toward him. She leaned her forehead on the middle of his chest, sighing and relaxing a little as his hand found the back of her neck and the ever-present knot there.

“So you came by for a sandwich, sex, and sleep? Triple S?” He asked lightly to keep her from floating off on him, pleased with himself as she chuckled.

Rose hummed thoughtfully in the affirmative. “I thought, damn, it works for Michael. He’s so well-rested and glowing at work. And he’s so nice to people.”

Robby exhaled sharply through his nose. “I am nice to people.”

“I know that’s what I said.” She looked at him feigning confusion.

“You were being sarcastic.” He laughed, poking her in the side.

She fought the smile spreading across her face. “I would never. You’re so personable at work. Especially with rude patients.”

“Stop being mean to me.” The almost-petulant whine in his voice made Rose giggle.

“I brought you breakfast and propositioned you, seems pretty nice in my book,” she noted with an unimpressed look.

A flush started at Robby’s neck and continued up his cheeks to his temples as he grinned. “I can’t argue with that.”

“The sandwiches reheat well,” Rose said innocently, her fingers absently rubbing over his collarbone.

“That cannot possibly be true.”

“Okay fine, but tell me you would actually reheat it and not just eat it room temp, you animal.”

Robby groaned, a wounded laugh leaving him as his head dropped to her shoulder.

“I’m sorry. You keep activating me.” Rose bit her cheek against a grin and tipped her head to lean against his.

His teeth found the crook of her neck, pulling a low groan from her. “Actually, I was just getting around to activating you.”

------

Curiosity got the better of Rose as she laid against Robby in his bed, lifting her head to look around. She didn’t have time earlier when he was walking her in that direction and they were shedding clothing. It was a nice room, tidy apart from the small laundry disaster in the half-closed closet. His nightstand held a small stack of books. There was a bookmark halfway through a worn copy of The Stranger beneath an uncracked history of battlefield medicine. Another pair of reading glasses sat on top of a medical journal folded open. No TV.

“You’re not being very subtle.” The rumble of his voice made Rose hum pleasantly.

“I’m not trying to be. I was going to look around earlier, but you were being really distracting.” She pushed herself up to look out the window behind his bed. “I was wrong before. Out this window, you can just barely see the top of PTMC. Is that why you sleep facing away from this wall?”

“Now it is.” Robby huffed a laugh and pulled her back down, catching her in a kiss to distract from her investigation of his bedroom. He was trying to ignore the apprehensive feeling in his chest about what this evolution meant. Was this an escalation of their situation? A one off?

“I have a handful of errands to run and you should get some sleep,” he mumbled as they parted.

“Should I go?” she asked on an exhale, quietly annoyed at the shiver in her voice.

“You don’t… have to.” He spoke the first two words at one pitch and the second two words at a higher pitch. Half statement, half question, wholly unclear.

Her gaze focused on his chest, fingers sliding absently over his skin. “If you would prefer to have your day off to yourself, I can make the trek to pass out at home.”

Robby felt the same twisting cowardice as before when they ended up here and she went home. She was already in his bed; he was never going to get that memory out of his head. What did it matter if she slept there while he was out?

The long silence made Rose finally look up at him.

“You should stay,” Robby confirmed when his gaze met hers. “I shouldn't be too long. Pirates are on at 5. Think you’ll be awake?”

It took everything in Rose not to hit him with a thousand watt smile. “If I sleep too long, I‘ll have no chance of making the transition back to day shift tomorrow. Wake me up when you get back?”

“I can do that.” He smiled back, stroking her hair away from her face. “Don’t reheat the room temperature sandwich. I’ll bring something back.”

“Like I’m moving from this spot,” she scoffed. “I was going to tell you to get out of bed slowly for me but you do that anyway.”

Robby made a pained noise, giving her an offended look.

“Okay, that was mean. I’m sorry.” Rose chuckled sheepishly. “I’m taking a nap now, I promise not to be mean when I wake up.”

“Uh-huh, I really don’t believe you,” Robby said as he climbed out of bed with a pointed stare in her direction.

“Now get dressed really slow.” She propped herself up on her elbow, biting her lip and making a show of watching. His chest flushed too when he was blushing, Rose noted.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to avert your eyes if you can’t be respectful.” The request was undermined by his laughter as he found clothes to throw on. “I’m not a piece of meat.”

“Was I supposed to be looking respectfully this whole time?” She pretended to be surprised.

Robby shook his head, a grin on his face as he grabbed his wallet off his dresser. He came back over to the bed, leaning down to kiss her soundly. “Go to sleep. It’s the last S of the program.”

A restless energy swept through Rose as the door to the apartment clicked shut and she heard the lock. Her body was more exhausted than her brain now, which tried to convince her she ought to finish her plain-sight investigation of his bedroom.

There was no energy left to move her muscles though, so she rolled over onto his pillow with a sigh. A half dozen deep breaths later, she fell asleep.

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