#f: the scorch trials

[coffee-and-geto]

“HAVE YOU SEEN MY PANTIES?”

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: in a lazy, hot summer afternoon, it’s your boyfriend’s turn to do the laundry. but why doesn’t he respond when you’re asking where’s your panties?

warnings: +18, smut, nsfw, gojo is your boyfriend, needy! gojo, cute! gojo, fluff, nipple play, panties sniffling, masturbation (m), oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, sex (p in v), also based on a @/yunonoai’s comic!

wc: 2,128

“Babe, can you do the laundry? I have a call.”

“Sure,” Satoru replies, standing up from the couch where he was lazily lying down, chilling out in front of some tiktoks.

He steps towards the bathroom, the laundry hamper waiting for him to be emptied and washed. With a resigning sigh, he looks down at the heap of dirty clothes. One of them overhangs them all: your favorite panties — the one he bought you last month. 

The lace surrounds with finesse the satin fabric of your favorite color.

So how can he not be hard at the only sight that reminds him how long you both haven’t had sex?

Fuck.

His breathing becomes heavier, each inhaling being a trial to not pay attention to the prominent bulge swelling down his gray jogging pants. Of course, the memory of your whimpers will always be like music to his ears, the fwap sounds of his cock buried deep, so deep, inside of your wet pussy, and his balls, so much filled with his cum and tightening when he's about to climax, slapping against your ass at each pound into you.

He is grouching now, at the edge of whining in need of your full attention — but of course, you needed to have a call at this very moment.

His hand twitches to his crotch, palming his already hard erection through the soft fabric of his pants, electricing at quiet moans, Satoru’s beautiful face wincing in pleasure. He swallows thick, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gives in. With messy movements, he lifts up his black shirt to grab the hem at his watering mouth and muffle his cute sounds between his clenched teeth and jaw. The fresh air blow at his hard abs, making him tensing his belly with scorching skin.

His big, calloused hand fiddles with his erection, so ready to free himself from the torturous sensation of your pretty panties, which he holds between his fingers and brings to his nose to inhale your scent, which makes him like a little puppy for you. Satoru utters a desperate whimper and finally buries his hand under his clothes to release his quivering cock.

It’s much bigger than usual, beads of precum glistening on the angry red tip, and veins sinuating the flesh. Of course, it’s perfect. That’s why it will never seem strange to anyone to see him stroke himself. He lazily fucks his tight fist, picturing your sweet pussy as he closes his eyes, beads of sweat leaking from his temples a flush spreads all over his cheeks.

His length girth throbs between his digits, coursing waves of lust through him as Satoru quickens the pace, as the same as his heartbeat. Saliva damps the fabric of his black shirt, and the idea of substituting the hem of his shirt with your panties carries out straight away, increasing his arousal until it’s twitching in a maddened way. With each stroke, the pre spreads along his shaft to allow it to be lubricated, at the point that if you all of a sudden show up in the bathroom, you both can skip the foreplay but damn!

“Toru? Did you see my panties?” Your voice echoes through another room.

But he doesn’t answer anyway.

“Fuck,” he grunts in a quiet whine, “miss you so much, babe.” His balls tighten, following the next moment — and it doesn’t take that much time he expected, because a few seconds after he twists his wrist in an upstroke movement — the exact way you’d do to him — he’s already cumming on the heap of laundry, dirtying them even more they already were, puddles of a viscous liquid, spreading out in droplets as the orgasmic peak subsides.

Panting heavily, he doesn’t hear you burst into the bathroom as you exclaim, “Satoru? You serious? Look at the state of the laundry now!”

With a swift gesture, he removes your panties from his mouth and turns his head suddenly towards you. He’s unable to justify himself and simply watches your disapproving pout ruffle your pretty lips. “Sorry babe, I'll clean it up.” He also notes how your mere presence makes him hard immediately despite having softened a moment earlier with the moment of “relief” he wished to provide for himself.

“Where are my panties?” you ask a second time as you rummage, eyebrows furrowed, through the basket of dirty laundry.

Satoru rubs the back of your neck nervously and hesitates to hide your underwear in his palm. “Uh... here,” he murmurs softly, slightly discomfited as you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation.

“You’re that much needy?”

Satoru looks down, a little boyish pout on his lips that breaks your heart. “Sorry...”

Your frown softens. “Oh, um— No, Toru, please don’t gimme that look,” you whisper, walking over to him, your hands instinctively cupping his cheeks to make him look down at you. “I’m sorry, my love. You need to tell me when you need me, okay?”

Satoru nods slowly, still guiltily pouting. “Can I have you? Please? Just one round, I swear I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs.

His request makes your lips curl up. “My boy does want me? You’re cute, almost begging like this.” You graze a kiss on his cheek. “Get on your knees.”

“Like that?” His knees make contact with the floor, his cock still outside his dangling jogging suit. He so fucking cute, listening to you so obediently.

“Good boy,” you coo, sliding pants down your thighs. Your black panties hug the swell of your hips, your intoxicating scent spreading toward Satoru’s nostrils.

He moves towards you using his knees to grip your hips and sniff your scent once more. The action makes you giggle so much that it makes you suck in a breath when he pulls down your underwear to kiss your groin. “Love you,” he whispers. “I want to taste you, please.”

“Satoru, just wait I—” But he cuts you off, darting out his tongue to lick a strip enough to feel your bundle of nerves. A moan escapes your lips, driving your breath as crazy as he’s doing with his skillful mouth.

“You’re dripping,” Satoru comments, kissing your lower lips swiftly before grabbing you by the thighs and lifting you up, dropping you off the washing machine. “Spread your legs,” he mumbled, all needy and flushed to eat you out.

And how long he hadn’t—

It’s like he’s drunk on you, ignoring your moans and whimpers as he rests his cheeks on your inner thigh to wrap his wrist around your thighs. His fingertips dig into the flesh of your thighs, trapping you firmly. “Keep ‘em spread, baby,” he purrs, lapping your soaked core and sensitive, puffy clit. “It tastes s’good, I’ve missed you.”

His dick twitches and throbs afterward, your sweet sounds re-hardening him and making him more swollen than he was even after the few rubs he did to relieve himself.

“Hmm, ah, Satoru, you—” you trail off, throwing back your head against the wall, your hands grabbing the washing machine’s edge until your knuckles turn white. “I’ll be close, I—” you babble, and the realization of how much not having sex with him for so long is turning you into a virgin-like. And also, the clenching feeling of your pussy, lips parting and closing around nothing hits you so hard.

You need to cum on his cock.

“Satoru, stop,” you gasp, your fingers snaking gently through his white lock and tugging them carefully.

He stops the moment after your whine reaches his ears — a sound ringing like music to his ear. “But… I haven’t made you come yet,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit slowly with his forefinger and middle finger. His cute pout is now begging you to give him grace.

“I want to cum on your dick,” you clarify, leaning in, your lips pressing down a gentle, loving kiss on this beautiful forehead of him.

“You sure? I haven’t stretched you beforehand.” He rises from his former crouching position and holds his sensitive length closer to your core.

“I don’t mind, I just want you right now,” you blow out, kissing his free hand.

Satoru blushes — and oh, how can anyone fall in love with this cute little face you want to madly shower with cuddles and kisses? “Can we put it in while I kiss you?” he requests, bringing his lips closer to yours.

You let out a little laugh, pressing a first kiss on his lips. “You’re so cute.”

But something makes your eyes drop lower, and you feel it. Satoru’s hand holds his shaft enough well to tap the tip and the length below on your core, teasing your squelching cunt.

“C’mon, don’t tease me, I want you n— Ah!” He shuts you down by crashing his lips on yours and sliding himself easily in you, stretching you impossibly wide. “S-Satoru, you’re bigger than usual,” you whimper. 

Your hands grab his broad shoulder, nails sinking in his compressed black shirt, lips moving on their own to taste yourself on his wet lips. His tender tongue asks to enter you, and you allow him, soft strokes on each other’s tongue.

Satoru moans in the melting kiss, waiting for you to adjust, and starts gentle back and forth hips moves, hissing through his teeth by the sweet, delicious tightness of yours. “You feel so good,” he squeals between kisses. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You gasp, swallowing hard because of the different paces your brain can’t focus on — stolen kisses and perfect pounds into you. It’s so deep, so mastered, that it’s driving you mad and making you see stars.

Breaking the kiss, Satoru wraps his muscled arms around your back and encircles you flush against him, your heartbeat matching with his, and your fingernails slide down his back as you almost lose strength and balance every time his tip brushes against your cervix, etching red scratch marks for sure on his back as soon as he will remove his shirt.

With another buck before pulling out fully, he slides back in and manages to reach your deepest point, making your back arch and cry out. “Satoru, please, I’m so close,” you whine, wincing because of his hips rocking in you faster and harder. 

The washing machine sways to the same rhythm, threatening to give way under your weight. Your heavy, ragged breaths fill the air in a kind of steam room. Blood beats at your ears, your gummy walls clenching around his long, big dick without ceasing and have mercy for you.

But as if that wasn’t enough, Satoru slides your top off with a swift movement of his hand to free one of your breasts and taste the nipple. He sucks hard, tongue pulling and swirling at the nub like no other. The action makes you roll your eyes, the overstimulation engulfing you like a wave would.

He then uses his head to tease your nipple with a gentle tug, his cerulean-blue eyes captivated by your curve. You squeal, your walls swallowing up his thrusts inside you, tightening more and more until he gives in and takes you back into his arms, but this time with a hand under your thigh to lift it up and enable him to reach an even more precise and deep angle, making you scream out his name.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” Satoru warns you, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and his jaw tense from clenching. “Please, where—”

“Inside me, Satoru,” you whimper in the hollow of his neck, closing your eyes before the following ride crashes the two of you.

Pussy clenching around his length, you squirt on him with a small cry, and Satoru does likewise, twitching as he grunts and his hips jerk to reach your womb and fill you up with his cum.

Muscles trembling from the aftermath, you pant against him, as weak as after an intense workout. “I’ve missed you so much,” Satoru whispers in your ear, in the same state as you. His large, quaking hands stroke your hair, soothing you.

White strings escape from your full, swollen-lipped pussy, the sound of trickling filling the silence of the room.

“I promise I’ll do the laundry, but please, can we have cuddles?” Satoru demands, blinking down at you with puppy-dog eyes.

You rest your cheek on his shoulder and nod, a smile stretching your lips, as you reach out to stroke his cheek.

“Of course, my baby.”

DING DONG.

The ringing of the front door echoes in your ears and a memory pops into your head, slapping you in the face.

“Wasn’t Suguru supposed to come to borrow the washing machine here because his is broken?”

Satoru froze, flickering his eyes. “Huh?”

a/n: feelin to write something cute and smutty haha! i think writing things easy like this is unwinding me.

see how he’s so cute? 🥹 pls God give me one…

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t

[purple-babygirl]

don't call me daddy IV

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 5,540

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: crying, a flu, coughing, shots, age regression

A/N: forgive me for the lateness with this one. i was very sick, like bed-ridden sick, and when i got a little better i got to writing right away. please be kind to me with this one, i'm still high on meds:" please enjoy xx💜💜

~

“Call me daddy.”

“What?” She was suddenly pulling away as if Bucky was made up of scorching metal.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He asked with a small smile, wiping any residue tears on his face.

What she wanted… he was only suggesting that she called him daddy because he thought it was what she wanted? Was this his way of returning the favor because she hugged him after a nightmare?

Now she was really hurt.

Bucky was unknowingly emphasizing the fact that he didn’t want this type of relationship, didn’t want her. He was only doing it to show gratitude.

“No.” She shook her head, getting up from the floor.

“No?” Bucky was genuinely confused as he followed her with his eyes.

He thought he was finally making things right, giving her what she wanted.

“I wanna go back.”

“What?!”

“I wanna go back, please take me back.” Her voice wasn’t even sad or frantic, only small and disheartened.

“Back where?! The couch is right there if you wanna go!” Bucky became angry again.

He felt rejected and he felt small. Was it his touch that made her pull back? Was it the daddy thing? Was he so repulsive?

“No, back, out of here.”

“Back where?! It’s the middle of the night!” Bucky raised his voice in frustration, the nightmare nerves barely out of his body.

Has she lost her mind? Why was she acting like this now? What was he supposed to do to please her and her little mind?

“Take me back to Mrs. Morrison,” she insisted calmly as she collected her slippers and stashed them back in her bag.

He looked at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, not getting what happened or where he went wrong.

She wasn’t even tearing up, it was like a switch has flipped inside of her.

“Just— just talk to me, okay? What happened?” Bucky fervently needed her to stop, needed to understand.

“Bucky was right. This isn’t gonna work. Please just take me back.”

Her words reopened Bucky’s wounds that her sweet gestures had once closed. What did she mean “isn’t gonna work”? Was he just deemed irredeemable? Again?

“But why?!”

“I just wanna go back.” Was all she gave him; no explanation and no reasons.

Bucky wouldn’t understand.

“You know what? Fine! I’ll take you back first thing in the morning. Go back to the fucking couch, stay away from me!”

She silently got the wolf stuffie, leaving it on the kitchen counter, and went back, no crying and no trials to correct him on his choice of bad words.

Did she really want to leave? Was she really going to leave him come morning?

~

When it was lit up enough, Bucky went for a run, trying to blow off some steam because he felt like he was about to explode.

Why did he let her in? He shouldn’t have done that. She didn’t deserve to get this close, no one did.

Did he seriously think he was accepted and understood by this stranger after 7 days of time together?

No matter what the purpose she was serving was, she could never understand how hard Bucky had had it.

Still, something kept pulling him to her. Something inside of him didn’t want her to leave him. Not now that he was used to her; that he wanted to be used to her.

It's been only a week and Bucky was ready to give human relationships another chance. She made him feel like healing wasn’t a faraway dream.

He was going to try and talk to her one last time and if she still wanted to leave, he would gladly let her.

When he opened his door, she was dressed and waiting for Bucky on the couch, ready to go.

“So you were serious about leaving?” Bucky asks as he kicks his shoes off.

“Yes. Bucky is gonna take me back, right?”

“If that’s really what you want?”

She didn’t trust her voice so she just nodded.

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Talk to me like I’m talking to you!” Bucky snapped.

She remained silent this time, not ready for a fight.

“Why do you wanna leave? What did I do?”

“Bucky didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is it?!”

“That is it.”

“What?!”

“Bucky didn’t do anything. Bucky didn’t even look at Doll’s file. Bucky never even called Doll Doll.” Only now did her tears come back, rolling down her cheeks with ease as she spilled out all that she’s been holding inside of her, “Bucky never wanted Doll.”

“I— I didn’t have time to look at the file. We were in a hurry so I picked the first one in the batch!” Bucky tried to explain, but quickly realized what he'd said.

A sob escaped her at the revelation that she was picked at random, that it could’ve been anyone else and that he really never wanted her.

“That’s not what I meant. I— listen, at first maybe I didn’t want you, but it’s different now!”

“Bucky never even picked me?” She cried, her broken voice crushing his heart.

“I—”

“Please take me back.” She wiped at her face, trying to steady her breathing.

“But—”

“Please, Bucky, please.”

The way she begged him with teary eyes and a shaky voice made Bucky stand up despite himself to put his shoes back on to take her back.

He might’ve not gotten a chance to explain himself, but he’s done her enough damage and he wasn’t going to continue being the reason she cried when she has been the reason he stopped.

“Let’s go.” Bucky pursed his lips and opened the door for her, her bag in hand, knowing it will never be the same when he came back.

~

“Doll, now that you’re big at least tell me anything, dear. Did he do anything—”

“He didn’t do anything, Mrs. Morrison. I promise you. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman with me.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I just think I wasn’t ready. I shouldn’t have listed my little self as ready.” She shook her head with a polite smile.

Mrs. Morrison wasn’t buying it, but she couldn’t push her anymore.

“Alright, dear. I’ll go finish the report so Bucky’s therapist can get her copy in the morning.”

“Mrs. Morrison, please,” she held the older woman’s hand imploringly, “Bucky didn’t do but good. Make sure you’re just to him in your report.”

“Okay, doll. Whatever you say, dear.” She woman shook her head, giving up the argument before standing up and leaving the room.

It wasn’t the full truth, but she did believe she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t going to be ready for a long time, so it was better if she just went back home and let herself be grounded a little.

~

“Please, I need to see her.” Bucky begged in front of Mrs. Morrison’s desk.

“Not before you tell me what you did to her, Mr. Barnes!”

“I— I didn’t do anything.”

“That’s what she said too, but I know it’s not the truth!”

“Wait, what? I— please let me see her.”

“She’s not here, Sergeant Barnes.”

“What? Where is she?”

“Home,” the woman replied shortly, still mad at Bucky.

“I thought that was where they lived?”

The woman shook her head in disappointment, “you never read your copy of the file, did you?”

Bucky remained silent, too embarrassed to speak. Why did everyone keep asking about the damn file!

“No, they don’t live here. She went back to her life at her house.”

“Well, can you give me the address?”

“Of course, not! That’s private information and you two don’t even seem to have ended on good terms!”

“Please? I need to fix this.”

“You already had time to do that, Mr. Barnes.”

“Well… At least give me a chance to apologize.”

“I don’t know.” The woman hesitated.

“Please, I’ll do anything.” Bucky begged sincerely.

“Anything?” Mrs. Morrison smiled suddenly, making Bucky worry a little, but he meant his words nonetheless.

“Anything.”

~

“Corgi, calm down!” Bucky heard her sweet laugh as she approached the dog’s barks.

“You call your corgi Corgi?” He asked her with a smile.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” Her smile quickly disappeared and a surprised frown replaced it.

“I—”

“Okay, I finished moving the new planters to the right side like you wanted— hello?” The man who cut Bucky off was offering him a hand.

Bucky shook it coldly, his signature frown staring the man down, “hey.”

“I’m Adam,” the man said with a friendly smile.

“Sergeant James Barnes.”

“Bucky, this is Adam, my best friend and neighbor, Adam, this is Bucky… a friend.” She introduced them, not sure of what to say about Bucky.

Meanwhile, Bucky felt something weigh down on him. Was it the fact that he wished she said more than just “a friend”? Was it the presence of this Adam guy? Was that… jealousy?!

“Right, so I’m gonna go now, but call me if you need anything, okay?” Adam said, looking at them both suspiciously.

“I will. Thank you for today, Adam. You’re the best.” She gave the man a hug, smiling from ear to ear as she did it, too.

That was a smile Bucky has never seen.

“I know I know. Bye, Corgi! Bye, Sergeant, nice to meet you!” Adam shouted as he walked out of her porch.

Bucky only nodded even though he knew the man couldn’t see him. He didn’t care if he was rude. Who was that anyway?

She was expecting Bucky to talk when Adam was gone but he just stood there, fiddling with the bag in his hand as he stared at her, so she didn’t say anything either.

She was done initiating. If he came all the way here on his own, he could start a conversation on his own.

“Who was that?”

“Really? You came all the way here to ask me that?”

He stuttered and swallowed, knowing fully well that he had no right to such a question.

“You seem different.”

“You mean big?” She smiled sadly, noticing how much more comfortable Bucky was dealing with her like that.

Bucky nodded guiltily, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, I do have a life and responsibilities after all.” She shrugged, gesturing to her house and the puppy by her feet.

She was disappointed to say the least. First, he gave her a terrible week with him, then he returned her and never looked back and now he was on her porch for no clear reason or explanation, questioning her and her life?

Still, she felt a spark of hope in her chest at the fact that he was standing before her. There must’ve been a reason he came and it couldn’t be so he could fight more.

Bucky felt embarrassed, tongue-tied with guilt as he’s forgotten everything he has been wanting to say.

Then the sky started speaking for him, thundering loudly and making her jump with a hand on her heart.

“Oh, it’s gonna rain. Let’s go inside.”

For some reason, he assumed she was talking to the puppy but when she kept looking at him, Bucky gratefully moved his feet.

~

Her house was the epitome of coziness. It was a true home and it was nothing like Bucky’s.

It had actual furniture, colorful pieces he knew were carefully picked. It had wallpaper and picture frames and kitchenware and cute mugs and plates.

Only now did he know how much shit she could’ve given him for the place he made her stay in, but she didn’t.

“Bucky!”

“Yes?”

“I asked about your favorite tea.” She smiled, motioning to a number of varieties on her shelves.

“A coffee would be fine.”

“I’ll just make you earl grey with me.” She shrugged, ignoring his choice for a coffee at this relatively late hour of the evening.

“Hey!”

“It’s my house, my rules, old man!”

Wow! Big her was kind of feisty and it was making Bucky smile.

“What do you have there?” She asked, looking at the small plastic bag that Bucky’s been carrying in his hand.

“Oh, I— this is for you.” He handed her the bag, cheeks burning as he was still brand new when it came to such gestures.

“Oreos! And wolfie!” She called out happily when she looked inside the bag, “thank you so much!” She squeezed the tips of his fingers, smiling at him like he’d gotten her a rare diamond.

When she let go of his hand to open the package and taste the cookies, Bucky felt fear settle in his chest at the idea of having lost her forever.

He watched her try to hide the hug she was giving the white stuffed wolf before slipping it to her curious dog, “careful, Corgi.”

She didn’t lecture or blame him about his treatment of her, yes, nor did she even bring up the week she stayed at his house, but would she be willing to forgive him? Would she give him another chance?

Instead of screaming at him, she was sitting him down on a comfortable couch that had a soft blanket draped over it and serving him tea and cake. What kind of angel was she?

“If you don’t like it, I’ll make you coffee. But taste it first,” she set the tray with tea cups and a plate with a couple of cake slices on the little wooden coffee table and Bucky knew the smell of this tray was the only thing missing from her living room.

Now it was all perfect. It suited her so well.

“I made lime key cake this morning so you’re in luck. It goes really well with earl grey,” she told him, trying to get him to talk, to tell her why he was at her place a week later at 9 in the evening.

But he only nodded.

She didn’t push him. She has done enough coaxing and enough pushing. She didn’t have to do that anymore. If Bucky wanted to talk, he would have to talk on his own.

But he didn’t.

An hour later, she was getting sleepy and the rain was pouring even harder.

“I— I better go.” He stood up, patting his pockets nervously as if to make sure his belongings were in place.

So he came all the way here for nothing? He found her house and rode on his motorcycle all the way here for nothing?

“No way, you can’t drive your motor cycle in this rain!”

“I’m a super soldier, I don’t get sick,” Bucky argued with a smile, heart swelling at the idea that she still cared for him.

“I don’t care. The roads are slippery. It’s dangerous!”

“But—”

“No buts. You can have my bed, let me show you the room,” she said, never giving him space for a reply as she led the way to her bedroom.

“You really don’t have to. I can take the couch.” Or the floor

“The couch is mine. Corgi cries at night and doesn’t like to sleep alone. He’s still just a puppy.”

“Why don’t you just move his crate to your bedroom?”

“Because there’s a system in this house, Sergeant. We’re disciplined people.” She smiled playfully, “good night.”

And just like that, Bucky was alone in her bedroom, with her bed and sheets and blankets, where all the pillows smelled like her hair shampoo and the air was light and sweet. He was in heaven.

Bucky took his jacket off, draping it over the armchair by her vanity and her perfumes caught his eye.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t help himself as he picked up the first bottle and neared it to his nose.

Oh, lord, was this sexy. He imagined himself eating her up if he was to smell this perfume on her skin. It was captivating and it went well with her playful grown up personality.

He tried another bottle and it was a softer scent that he knew all too well. It was the one she wore when she was staying at his house. It smelt angelic, soft and welcoming.

Bucky had to stop himself from going down the line of perfumes because he didn’t think he could keep going.

He’d better go to bed and try to catch a few hours of sleep before the mind attacks started.

Grabbing a pillow that smelled like her, Bucky made himself as comfortable as could be on the wooden floor next to her bed, draping her overly soft blanket on his body.

~

“You call it a disciplined house but you don’t even have a dining table,” Bucky teased as he helped her bring the rest of the plates to the coffee table.

He was right actually. She lied last night. She could easily take Corgi to the bedroom with her, but what kind of hospitality would that be to give Bucky the couch when it was his first time visiting?

“At least my coffee table has space for more than 2 noodle cups,” she teased right back, hardly biting a smile.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her sassiness, smiling like an idiot at how easy she made everything.

Talking was easy around her. Existing was easy around her. Breathing was easy around her. And oh did he miss her.

“So…” she trailed, pouring orange juice in Bucky’s glass.

She couldn’t stay silent anymore. She had to understand why Bucky found her house and came to her after he’d clearly proven he didn’t want her. She wanted and tried to be the bigger person, but if he had something to say, she was ready to hear it now.

“I— I came here to say I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said the words that have been sitting on the back of his tongue for so long.

“Bucky…” she locked her eyes with his for a second, unable to read him, “you didn’t have to come all the way here. I didn’t tell Mrs. Morrison anything.”

The way she reassured him broke his heart. It was as if she wholeheartedly believed that all Bucky cared about was the final report.

But he cared about so much more. He cared about fixing this. He cared about her.

“I know. I did.”

“What?!”

“I told her everything.”

“Bucky— why?”

“I had to make it right.”

“Well, what did she say?” She chewed her lower lip nervously, worried everything has been ruined for Bucky.

“She made me serve a few hours at the institution and only when she got everyone’s approval did she agree to give me your address.”

“Everyone’s approval of what?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Of my storytelling skills,” Bucky replied proudly, putting some cheese on her plate for her when he noticed her freeze.

“Your storytelling— what?!” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, a huge smile breaking on her face.

“I spent a few nights reading bedtime stories to the residents there and I’ll have you know I did a pretty good job, though most of them wanted lullabies so I stole some of yours—”

“Hold on! You, Bucky Barnes, read bedtime stories and sang lullabies to littles at the institution?”

“Yes, I did.” Bucky nodded with a shrug.

“You did all of this so you could have my address?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I missed you, doll.”

“Doll?” Her eyes instantly teared up at the sole use of the name coming from him.

“And to tell you that I got to meet everyone that was available at the same time you were and none of them could ever compare. They’re all amazing people, but none of them made me feel like you’ve made me feel in that short week,” Bucky admitted softly, eyes hesitant to leave his fingers.

“I was terrible to you and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m sorry. I know now that I should’ve been better.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” she said with a content smile, simply satisfied with his presence as she passed him the bread. That apology was genuinely enough for her.

“No, doll, it’s not. I— I did the opposite of everything a caregiver should’ve done. It's just… you made me nervous, scared.” Bucky admitted.

“I scared you?” She scoffed in surprise. She wasn’t expecting this one.

“Yes. The way you were fully yourself, the way you weren’t afraid to show it, the way you did the effort to relieve yourself of whatever you were suffering from, it all scared me. How you openly cried when you needed to. It scared me because I didn’t know how to be like you. I didn’t know how to choose trust and kindness again after everything that had happened to me. Your courage scared me.”

“Oh, Bucky.” Tears rolled down her face as she desperately felt the need to hold him and kiss every inch of him better, “why didn’t you talk to me? I would’ve understood.”

“I tried… that day… but talking about it made me wanna close up on myself even more. It made me more scared. It wasn’t easy. It isn’t easy. And I can’t help it,” Bucky’s voice trembled as he fought his own tears.

He couldn’t believe he said those words out loud to someone else.

She left her seat and went to sit next to Bucky on the couch, her hands finding his and holding onto them for dear life.

“But when I came home to an empty living room after dropping you off at the institution, I knew what I'd lost. I realized what an asshole I’ve been to you. And I missed you. I missed you so much when I closed the door and you weren’t on the couch looking at me,” he poured his heart out to her with tears in his eyes.

She squeezed his hand more, trying to hug his fingers with hers but they were too short to fully cover his hands.

“You don’t have to give me another chance, but I felt like I could’ve died if I didn’t tell you how sorry I was and am. I’m sorry I didn’t give myself time to understand you and appreciate you for everything that you were, doll. I’m sorry I was so stupid and let you slip away from my hands. I’m sorry I was undeserving of your kindness and softness and love,” Bucky told her with tears pouring down his face, matching hers as she finally got to listen to all that he had to say.

“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to be a good daddy to you and I’m sorry I didn’t try to learn. It’s all my fault because you, doll, deserve someone who would bust their ass trying for you,” Bucky sighed, “but if you’d let me, I’ll spend as much time as you’ll allow me doing that.”

“Thank you for finding me.” She threw herself in his arms and Bucky felt his soul come back to him as he held her tight to his body.

“Thank you for welcoming me back in despite everything I’ve put you through. I know I don’t deserve it.” Bucky squeezed her closer, the smell of her hair calming his senses.

“You’re welcome.” She pulled back to wipe his tears away, giving him a smile prettier than anything he’s ever seen, “now let’s eat before the eggs go cold.” She wiped her eyes quickly before grabbing the spoon and putting some eggs on Bucky’s plate.

“Does that smile mean you forgive me, doll?” Bucky asked hopefully.

“I forgive you, Sarge.” She smiled at him, what was in her heart showing in her eyes.

“You won’t regret it,” he promised, putting some food in his mouth to stop any upcoming tears.

They ate silently in peace for a second before Bucky spoke out.

“Seriously though, who was that Adam guy?!”

“Way to ruin a moment, Bucky,” she teased.

But Bucky didn’t smile. He remained silent waiting for her answer with a tiny frown.

“I told you he’s my best friend and he lives next door.”

 Bucky’s frown deepened slightly. So that man got to see her every day huh?

“With his wife,” she added, biting back a smile as she watched his face relax.

“Don’t toy with me like that, doll.”

“I couldn’t help it. This is all new to me and I’m having fun!”

“Does he come here a lot?”

“Yes, Bucky. It’s what friends do, they visit,” she laughed.

“I don’t see Sam that often and we’re fine.” He shrugged unconvincingly, making her laugh more.

“He’s a good man, you’ll come to like him. Plus, he helped me a lot those past weeks and took care of my garden and Corgi while I was away so I owe him.”

“So I’m seeing a farmer now?” Bucky teased.

“Oh look who’s not so quiet anymore!” She teased back with a giggle, “at least my fridge never runs out of tomatoes.”

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky asked, his face serious again.

She nodded in reply, a smile gracing her patient features.

“Why did it bother you so much when I told you to call me daddy?”

She hummed, letting go of her fork.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna answ—”

“It made me feel like you were returning a favor. Doing something because you felt like you had to do it, like it was the right thing to do, but not because you really wanted it. Yes, I wanted to call you daddy with my whole heart, but only if you wanted it too. It hurt because at the time I knew you still hadn’t accepted me for who I was and was just saying that so you could repay me for the hug I was giving you.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bucky shock his head in remorse, “I will never understand how you managed to put up with me for a whole week.”

“It’s because I know what it’s like to feel unwanted, Bucky. I know what it feels like to be unloved and unaccepted, especially by those who should give you unconditional love.”

“Family?” Bucky asked with a sad smile.

She nodded with a similar smile, “I know what it’s like to be more than your pain and anger with others only seeing the snapping and frowning. Little me doesn’t want anyone else to feel unloved like that because she knows how bad it all is. So she gives. She’s patient and she’s kind and sometimes I don’t think I could’ve accessed that part of myself if it wasn’t for her.”

“How so?”

“Grown ups are more cautious because they always have the consequences to things like vulnerability right in front of their eyes. We’re more likely to be afraid to show our hearts because we know we could get hurt bad because of it. Little me isn’t scared of that. She wakes up brand new every day. She wears her heart on her sleeve and trusts her love to do the magic.”

“You’re an amazing person.” Bucky raised her hand to his lips to press a timid kiss without much thought, “I guess I have a lot to learn from you, doll.”

“Don’t say stuff like that!” She whined playfully, cheeks going hot as she turned away shyly, “plus, do you have a death wish?” She raised a playful eyebrow.

“It’s true though— what?”

“I didn’t give you permission to kiss me,” she teased, reminding him of the time she kissed his cheek on her first day at his house.

Bucky smiled sheepishly, whispering out an apology even though he knew she was joking.

Bucky stopped himself when she started coughing abruptly.

She’s been coughing a little here and there since morning, but he didn’t think anything of it.

She shook her head, still coughing as she ran to the bathroom, needing to find any sort of cold medicine. She knew what this was.

Bucky hurried behind her, “what’s wrong?”

In a second, she was bending forward, coughing her heart out.

“Are you okay?!”

She shook her head again, trying to calm down, “I thought it was just a sore throat but it’s getting worse.”

“Let’s get you to the doctor,” Bucky said, worry eating away inside his chest as he watched her cough more.

He quickly grabbed her jacket and keys, leading her out to her car.

~

“It’s because I let you sleep on the couch, isn’t it? You got cold,” Bucky said, running his fingers through his hair nervously as he paced around the room.

He hasn’t stopped blaming himself since they’d returned from the doctor’s. She caught a bad flu and Bucky quickly believed it was his fault.

“No, Bucky. It’s not that.”

“You don’t have to defend me, doll. It’s because of me. I’ve managed to hurt you again. And I don’t even use beds. I should’ve never let you sleep out here.”

“Hey! Calm down please! It’s not you... It was me.” She released a sigh, biting her lip.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when the rain got even worse after you went to bed. I thought I’d come out and cover the motorcycle so that it wouldn’t get all muddy and you’d have a hard time cleaning it,” she explained, fiddling with her fingers.

“That’s still because of me,” Bucky sighed.

“Come on, it’s not like you made me!” Her hoarse voice tried to reassure.

Bucky only ran his fingers through his messy hair again, not knowing what to say or do to make this one right.

“Bucky, please, I’m sick. All I want is for you to stay beside me and not blame yourself.” Her frown was back to her beautiful face and Bucky didn’t like it, “can you do that for me?”

He didn’t like how sick and scratchy her voice sounded either so he wasn’t about to make talk more with a throat like that.

“I’ve already proven I suck at taking care of you, doll,” Bucky chuckled sadly.

“Do you want forgiveness or not?” She joked.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m right here.”

“Is it dangerous for you though? I don’t want you to get it too.”

“I can’t get sick, remember?” Bucky smiled, rubbing her back lightly, “I’m your nurse now.”

“Is that so?” She giggled.

“Yeah.” He nodded confidently.

“You’re definitely not dressed for it,” she teased, giving him her tongue.

“Oh, are you into that kinda thing, doll?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile she has never seen before on his pink lips.

“Bucky!” She squealed, hiding her face with the covers, making Bucky laugh.

The sound was heaven to her ears and despite being awfully sick, she couldn’t wish for a better outcome for Bucky’s visit.

“Shit, here it comes again,” she gulped before starting another fit of harsh coughing.

“Bad word,” he whispered to her, making her smile tiredly as she continued coughing.

~

“I don’t wanna go,” she whined as Bucky gently forced her arm inside her jacket.

“We have to. You need your shots to get better.” Bucky covered her head with the hood of her jacket to make sure she was warm before leading her outside.

“But shots hurt,” she whined more with teary eyes.

“I’ll be right there, remember?”

“That’s not gonna do anything!” She whined further.

“Hey!” Bucky pretended to be hurt as he helped her inside the car.

She sighed with a grateful smile, “fine, hugs or I don’t go.”

“Hugs it is.” Bucky smiled back, taking seat next to her before starting the car.

~

“No, no, no, please. I’m not ready, I don’t want it. Give me pills instead, give me pills,” she cried in Bucky’s chest as she saw the doctor get the shot ready.

“Doll, it’s okay, I promise. I got you,” Bucky said, feeling as helpless as ever.

He wished he could get the shots for her, but it wasn’t possible. He could feel something different about her. She looked like she was slipping into her little headspace and it made Bucky nervous, oh so nervous, that he might mess up and not be able to deal with her again.

She barely calmed down enough for Bucky to help her small hands lower her pants just enough for the doctor to have space to push the needle in.

She moaned in pain as she hid her face in Bucky’s chest, crying for real when she felt the strong medicine inside the needle spread inside her.

“It stings. It stings bad,” she sobbed, hands clutching Bucky’s shirt as he covered her behind again and made sure she was properly covered.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We’re going home now, it’s over,” Bucky cooed, rubbing and patting her back with his big hand.

“It hurts, daddy,” she sniveled in his ear and Bucky froze.

Those innocent teary eyes looking up at him like that made him feel a lot of things. But most importantly, they made him feel like he could do this. He could take care of this sweet girl without messing up this time. Her love would show him how.

“I got you, doll. Daddy’s got you.”

~

part V

~

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[lilac-5ky]

Sex with a Ghost (TojixFem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Date with a ghost

Chapter 2 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

Summary: Being at the bottom of the ladder in your class with a non-combat oriented technique, you are prompted by Gojo to summon a dead sorcerer as a learning experience. However, when none other than Fushiguro Toji appears in your room, you find yourself practicing more than just your cursed technique.

Tags: Student!reader, Ghost!Toji, Age Gap(reader 18, Toji early 30s), Oral Sex (both f. and m. receiving), Manipulation, Corruption Kink, Praise, Degradation, Pet Names (princess, baby, etc), Cowgirl, Toji being a horny asshole that gets redeemed at the end? Sort of.

Word Count: less than 6k.

“But, sensei, is this really necessary?”

You tilted the sphere between your fingers, sizing it up. It weighed no more than a baseball ball did, yet its price must be comparable to that of an entire stadium. A cursed item among cursed items given to a mere grade 3 sorcerer who barely stood out amidst the renowned prodigies of Tokyo Jujutsu High. This was a waste of both time and effort and yet the white-haired man before you begged to differ, eyes glinting a vibrant sky-blue hue from underneath his dark shades.

“Doubting your favorite teacher, Y/N?” he chuckled only to sulk a second later when you asked him what deluded him into thinking he was your favorite.

Undeterred, he continued “I feel like a broken record here, but do yourself a favor and have a bit more confidence. Graduation is two months away, don’t you wanna prove your worth till then? It’s not too late to climb a couple of steps up the ladder. You could easily shoot up to Grade 2. Look at the rest of your class—”

A firm albeit reassuring grip latched itself onto your shoulder, gently twisting you in the direction of your classmates.

The heatwave must have gotten to them for good, blood boiling under the vicious sun rays. Their sleeves and pants were rolled high above their elbows and knees respectively, foreheads glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat that dribbled down their necks.

Just looking at them made your skin crawl with uneasiness.

You didn’t understand why anyone in their right mind would willingly trade the shade of these blessed pine trees for the scorching furnace that the schoolyard was, but when you stopped paying attention to their clothes and took in their blissful expression, you felt a lump swell in your throat.

The two of them were practically beaming, giggling, and prancing around the water fountains without a care in the world— and why should they have anything to worry about when they were Grade 1 at seventeen? A Kamo and a distant cousin to the Zen’ins, both guaranteed to walk a path strewn with rose petals since birth. No trial or tribulation whatsoever.

Your teacher’s voice was muffled into white noise while you were busy shooting daggers at the duo, part of you wishing to join them in their harmless idiocy, and another silently praying that in your next life, you’d be lucky enough to be born into one of their clans. No one questioned the value of a Kamo. No one went against a Zen’in with an inherited technique.

“So, we good? Tell me I didn’t waste 15 minutes of my precious time for nothing.” His fingers squeezed at your shoulder, causing your attention to shift.

You had no idea what he’d been saying, though you’d sat through plenty of pep talks already to guess the gist of it. “You have potential, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down like this. You can do it!” All empty words without real meaning. Worthless. Not everyone had what it takes to become the next Gojo Satoru. Some people were born to be stepping stones for others, and you were perfectly fine with it. No half-assed aspiration would spur you on.

“If I do this… will you leave me alone?”

A Cheshire cat grin spanned from one corner of his mouth to the other. If one didn’t know any better, they’d mistake Gojo for an overzealous teacher whose earnest goal was to see his students succeed. Not you. You’d spent enough time in his presence to know that his whole “Teacher of the Year” shtick hid an agenda of its own. It was a matter of time to find out what his true motive was.

“What’s the plan?”

“Now we are talking,” he sang in glee. “Very simple, really. You just hold this between your palms and channel as much cursed energy as possible to its center. The ball will absorb it like a magnet and continue drawing from you until you have a clear picture of your target. Then, assuming all goes well and you don’t pass out,” a quiet “What?!” was overwritten by his voice, “you’ll get your very own date with a spirit. Isn’t that exciting?”

Nothing about your expression screamed excitement, eyes squinting in slits and bottom lip quivering into a frown. “And who’s my target, exactly?”

“A Zen’in sorcerer,” he said.

“A Zen’in sorcerer you say,” your eyes wandered again to that soaked blockhead in the distance, the black mop he had for hair flapping left and right. “Ain’t the one over there good enough?”

Shaping a cone around his mouth, Gojo yelled at the top of his lungs for the kids to wait up so they could play together. The duo cheered excitedly, shouting some sort of inside joke you knew nothing about right back at him. Wasn’t the first time you were excluded, and it certainly wasn’t the first time you questioned how this man came to be the world’s most talented sorcerer, either.

“If he was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” his smile softened as he lowered his voice. “The Zen’in I’m talking about has been dead for a little more than a hundred years now. Unfortunately, his name is erased from our logs,” of course it is “but that shouldn’t hinder you too much. He was an immensely powerful sorcerer with a great amount of cursed energy to back his technique up. An anomaly, if you like.”

“What kind of technique?” “The ten shadows technique,” he answered. “Out of all the Shikigami users, he is perhaps the strongest there’s ever been.”

“Stronger than you, sensei?”

The way his nose scrunched made you regret asking, knowing that a haughty declaration was dangling from the tip of his tongue, begging to be unleashed in a never-ending spiel of self-praise.

“And why should I invoke him in particular?” you quickly changed the subject. “I thought our goal was to hone my spirit-channeling technique and increase my cursed energy flow while we’re at it.”

“That we are doin’, but why not kill two birds with one stone? A new ten-shadow user has risen. I’m sure whatever trick that old dog has up his sleeve will be useful to our little Meg—” He feigned a smile of innocence at his slip. “All you gotta do is chit-chat him into giving you some info. Toss in a few compliments, butter him up. Shouldn’t take more than a few words to convince him, spirits are dying to be summoned— Oh well, unfortunate choice of words. What do you say? You’re in?”

Your groan was all the answer he required to beeline straight to the water fountains, his chirpy laugh echoing from afar. This guy, you huffed, examining the crystal ball anew. There was no way out of this. Either you did his bidding or you’d be forced to endure the obnoxious sound of his voice all summer long.

“Couldn’t you have chosen anything more cliche than a crystal ball?” you snarled, convinced he hadn’t heard you.

“Ouija board was already taken,” he warbled unexpectedly, voice meshing with that of your peers as they ran around in circles, dark-colored uniforms turning darker with every splash of water. “Besides, this has a bit of pink in it,” he referred to the rosy shaded base. “Much cuter than a bunch of rusty letters, right?”

You groaned as you shoved the item into your tote bag, making no mistake to talk out loud again as you turned on your heel. A pinch of jealousy punctured your chest, relieved by every step you took away from the scene and away from the fun the three of them were having.

“Looks like we’re having a date with a ghost tonight.”

It was a quarter past twelve when you decided to put that little experiment to work, the coast clear of overbearing parents and annoying little brothers who wanted nothing more than to disrupt your so-called “studying session”. As far as your family was concerned, Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College (Tokyo Jujutsu High for short) was your average educational institution that had somehow recognized the value of your mediocre grades and scouted you when you were still in middle school— no questions asked from either side.

You wouldn’t go as far as to call your own family a bunch of dimwits, but the signs were all there. A teacher merely four years older than you were, his odd sartorial decisions only second to his eccentric personality. A class made up of four students dramatically and suddenly decreasing to a party of three. An unknown man in a suit and tie driving you back and forth between “emergency study dates” in the dead of night. The lack of studying material in your backpack as opposed to the exams you constantly stressed over. Your unreasonable reaction when your mother stored a cursed tool in with the silver cutlery.

Even if you straight up walked to them with a banner that read “I exorcise curses”, you doubted they’d have anything more to say than a plain “Good for you”, not because they were stupid, but because they simply didn’t care at all.

They didn’t care enough to bat an eye when seven-year-old you tugged at daddy’s trousers, whimpering about a squid-like creature sneaking in your closet, and didn’t care enough to try and justify the stream of water flooding down the corridor. They didn’t care that your imaginary friends were more akin to monsters, and they didn’t care about you being away from home 350 days a year. It was convenient not to. That’s how they were able to drink their woes away at the local bar on a Thursday night with a clear conscience, having offloaded that pest of a brother at your grandparents’ for the fifth consecutive night.

Poor kid. If he wasn’t so despicable, your big sister instincts might have kicked in and raised an objection, though as things currently were suited you best. Rituals required focus, and you needed to make sure no one would bust through the door and interrupt your conversation with Mister Whatever-his-name-was.

You’d taken care of all your basic needs —eating a reheated portion of lasagna, cleansing your body of the worldly filth that stained it, catching a rerun of your favorite show’s latest episode, and cursing Gojo for making you miss it in the first place— and were now seated on your room’s floor with the crystal ball nesting between your bare thighs, the cold sensation much welcome on this excruciatingly warm evening where sitting on the fuzzy carpet seemed like the greatest torture imaginable.

It was only March and you were already in your skimpiest outfit of all; a frilly pair of dusty-pink shorts and a matching low-cut tank top dressing your sweat-beaded body. Dark spots saturated the fabric, demanding your fingers fanned it every two seconds. The worst had yet to come. By the time summer arrived, the final thing for you to crawl out of would be your own skin.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you returned to the item at hand. It’d been fairly long since you’d last performed a seance. Your role in the recent assignments was to support your classmates from the sidelines, exorcising whatever lower-grade curse got in their way with the aid of various cursed tools.

The white-haired nuisance could claim your technique was useful all he wanted, but at the end of the day, yours were simply not meant for combat. Best case scenario, after graduation, the higher-ups would put you on a 9 to 5 job, where you could dig whatever intel they wanted from the comfort of your cramped-up desk; away from your haughty classmates, and away from Gojo Satoru.

You rolled your fingers around the globe’s surface, pads tingling with waves of cursed energy as they seeped into the crystal. Slowly, a dark purple aura came to distort its translucence with colors and shapes of various magnitudes. Shadow-like forms gathered at the seams, remnants of pent-up energy colliding and converging with one another at one focal point. All ready to go!

You began mentally chanting the surname of your target, over and over again until the slideshow of foggy faces diminished to that of a select few candidates from the same bloodline. Some, you would imagine had died when they were still in their prime, measly fledglings of sorcerers with eyes retaining that youthful glossiness, while others seemed to have lived enough to see themselves turn into dehydrated raisins with next to zero cursed energy left.

Once you’d gone through your classmate’s entire family tree at least three times, you caught yourself admitting that despite their faults and innate air of pretension, the Zen’ins weren’t particularly hard on the eyes. Especially that one guy whose mug kept reappearing at random intervals, the slanted scar of his lips lingering in your mind well after the next contender’s appearance. There was something about him, be it the lack of aura he emitted or the viridescent hue of his eyes that had you replaying the frame at the expense of your own energy.

You were drawn to him in an inexplicable way that, at the time, you attributed to fate. It had to be him, right? That must have been why the dope you had for a mentor insisted on calling this a date. Even if he didn’t know the sorcerer’s name, he must have known how insanely attractive the guy was, right?

And suddenly, you felt a sliver of gratitude overcome you, eyelids snapping shut with the Zen’in sorcerer’s face as clear as day behind them, while you chanted the incantation Gojo himself had taught you.

“From the murky shroud of oblivion, I invoke thou out the shadows and blight to bask in heavenly light. Through me gain life, and through life gain thine blessed power.”

No more than a few seconds had passed when you heard a thud, your gaze meeting with that of the very man you’d summoned.

The orb barely did him any justice. Not as if crystal balls were ideal measuring instruments, but you’d need about ten more of those to depict his height as he towered over you, the bulky frame of his shoulders casting a large shadow on the wall behind your head. He was dressed in a much more casual manner than one would expect of someone who’d been dead for over a century, with corded veins and taut muscles peaking underneath a black compression shirt, waist accentuated where his hips met with a pair of baggy pants. And once you got to his face— you must have lost track of time staring into the gem-like green orbs of his eyes, considering you didn’t notice the scowl his lips wore until his tone pointed it out.

“The hell is this?” He sounded just like he looked, the bass of his timbre ringing most pleasantly in your ears.

You wouldn’t know what being dead felt like, but if it was anything remotely close to sitting on a dead leg for hours on end, you guessed he’d rather take a moment to adjust over an answer.

His soles circled the tiny space, eyes dancing between the fairy lights on the wall, the moonless sky —and by extension the empty driveway outside your window—, the three Polaroids on your desk that depicted an old family trip to Seoul (your mother silently accusing him from the frame for the crime of wearing his shoes inside the house), and lastly, you. His gaze feasted on your body as if he’d been starved for ages and you were the first oasis in the desert, his expression gradually easing into a lopsided smile as he cocked his head to the side.

“Got a name, sweetheart?” he asked in a syrupy sweet tone, the nickname he’d come up with making you doubt he’d use your actual name even if you shared it.

You set the ball aside and hopped on your feet, standing on somewhat more equal ground, though not equal enough to completely diminish the difference in height. He was massive, and you were still processing the kind of person that possessed the power to end this man’s life.

“Name’s Y/N,” you extended your hand. “You must be master Zen’in, nice to meet you!”

He merely glanced at your gesture, leaving you to embarrass yourself without a single qualm. “No one’s called me that in some time,” he expressed wryly. “You know about me?”

You nodded, wiping your palm against your shorts. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen a spirit act all high and mighty, a Zen’in at that. “Who hasn’t heard of the greatest sorcerer there’s ever been?” you chuckled, Gojo’s bootlicking advice coming in for the clutch. “You are somewhat of a legend in the Jujutsu world. The one who mastered the ten shadows technique like no other.”

“Is that who I am now,” he pondered out loud, his index briefly scratching his jaw. “I guess I am,” he grinned with confidence. “That why you summoned me? Wanted to meet with great ol’ me in person?”

“Something like it,” you admitted, finding it hard not to smile back. “I just so happen to be acquainted with this idiot who’s a big fan of yours. Had me use my technique for a passing grade.”

A low hum prompted you to continue. “He’s a real pain in the ass,” you groaned. “Calls himself ‘the strongest’ and acts as if he’s ‘teacher of the year’ when he forces me to fish out intel like some lackey— Actually, you might have heard of his family name before, they’ve been around for ages. Gojo,” quickly adding “Satoru.”

At the sound of your teacher’s name, the man’s eyes widened, his darkened pupils blown with an emotion akin to rage. You weren’t sure what great calamity the Gojos had brought upon him in his previous life, but being familiar with their descendant you doubted they put much effort into it.

“The six eyes is your teacher?” he asked, not giving you enough time to question how on earth he knew that title before he pitched in another question. “So, ya just a kid, huh?”

“I’m not!” you objected. “Turned 18 a while ago.”

“A while, you say?” he arched a brow.

“I’m closer to 19 if anything,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“19,” he mocked, his droopy eyelids incapable of hiding the way he sized your figure up.

You didn’t even think to put on a bra before the ritual started. Just like you could vividly picture what his pecs looked like under his clothes, your flimsy outfit left little to the imagination, the sweat that’d shimmered across your collarbones and cleavage working in your favor.

“Nah, you are right. No kid could ever have a body like that. Plump and ripe in all the right places,” his tongue lapped over his bottom lip, salacious stare prodding at what your arms kept hidden. “That’s a woman’s body, no doubt.”

Heat spread from your chest all the way to your cheeks, and for once, it wasn’t because of the room’s overbearing heat. Your toes sunk inside the carpet, thighs awkwardly rubbing together. You’d found yourself in such a position before, yet never with a boy like him— never with a man like him.

“Th-thank you,” you mumbled, your fingers hesitantly sliding down your elbows.

He took a step closer, lacking hesitation as he lifted your chin with two fingers, his thumb gently caressing it.

“Gonna let me look at the rest, baby?” his other hand encompassed your hip, the size of his palm alone making you feel oh-so small and fragile before him. “I’ll make ya a deal if you lemme. Tell ya anything you wanna know and more— heh, I’ll make sure ya pass with flying colors.”

“I don’t… I’m not-”

Depriving you of the chance to deny his advances, the man slotted his lips between yours and pulled back almost instantaneously, overjoyed to catch you leaning into his touch for more.

You weren’t sure why this was happening— why you were letting this happen. He was a stranger who barely qualified as being alive, and at the time of his death, he was closer to your father’s age than yours. But he was there, and he was paying you attention, and the way he spoke to you as if he already knew your answer ahead of your mouth had warmth spiraling to the lower parts of your body.

Rather than giving in to your pouty lips, the man whose name you didn’t even know cupped your breasts in both his hands, calloused thumbs making quick work of your nipples as they peaked below the drenched fabric, rolling the sensitive buds into full hardness.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he praised, kneading at your supple skin almost adoringly.

The straps of your top slid down your shoulders, and you felt the ghost of a smile press onto your neck, his warm mouth smearing wet kisses right to where your neck and shoulders connected. You bit back a sigh, your breath audibly strained.

“Bet you wanna be touched, hmm?” he continued, finding the sweet spot you didn’t know you had, and pressed on, his sharp teeth digging into your flesh coaxing a purr from deep within your throat. He chuckled, the vibrations making you shudder. “That why you’re dressed like a slut? Wanna be treated like one, mm?” his lips parted again, tongue lapping over the delicate bruise his teeth left as he pinched your nipples harshly. A moan was ripped from your slack jaw, the insult he carelessly threw adding to the slick between your thighs.

“Sounds about right,” he smirked. “Well, I’m not complaining. You’re a sight for sore eyes, kitten.”

He didn’t ask for permission before he tugged at your shirt, your breasts spilling out with a single bounce. You saw him wet his lips once more, fingers seizing your now-exposed nipples and lustful eyes admiring them up close. You hadn’t noticed how close he was standing until his hips bucked against yours, alerting you to how painfully hard he’d gotten underneath his pants. The six-year-long refractory period his body was subjected to was far too cruel— though you wouldn’t know about that until much later.

“Tell me,” he requested, pausing just so he could look you dead in the eye. “Have you ever done this before?”

His lips traversed the valley of your breasts, rough palms sliding languidly across your ribs and waist. You could see him hold you like that while being inches deep in you. Slamming your frail little set of bones against your desk’s wooden surface. Pounding your hole for your parents to return to their precious daughter bent in half by some stranger. Bruising Gojo’s star student until the smug smile was wiped from his obnoxious mouth for good.

All those reasons made you nod at his question, not caring that he’d be ten times rougher because of your white lie. If anything, you looked forward to that.

“Sure you’re not lying to me?” he read your mind like an open book, the elastic of your shorts being torn away from your body. “Won’t be mad if y’are. I love myself a sweet little virgin. Love how whiny their voices get. How,” he lowered himself onto his knees, palm pushing you to sit on your bed “cute their little tight cunts look all stretched around me.”

His hot breath fanned over your soaked panties, index lazily rubbing back and forth between your clothed slit, the added friction sending a pleasurable tingle up your spine.

“You really aren’t one, are ya?”

You shook your head repeatedly like a bobblehead doll, propping your weight onto your elbows as he lifted your legs on his shoulders, the reality of his choppy raven hair nuzzling to your thighs finally hitting you.

“You said all you wanted to do was look, right?” the finger that was hooked around your underwear stopped. “That was the deal…”

For a brief yet conscious second, his eyes bore into yours with such spite that you thought you’d completely messed up. Only a virgin would dare say something this stupid. If he wasn’t bound to you by the ritual, he’d be out the door the moment you spat those words, you knew it, but then his knuckles brushed over your abdomen to find the hand that clenched onto the sheets, and you realized that wasn’t the case.

“Deals get altered and terms renewed all the time,” he mumbled distractedly, deeply inhaling your scent on his nose, while your fingers unfolded between his lips. You gasped, the sight of him fucking them in and out his mouth —tongue slithering right in the middle and saliva dribbling down his chin as he popped them out— enough to hypnotize whatever sense out of your brain.

“I’ll make ya a new deal,” he hummed, gently directing them to your mouth as if he beckoned you to do the same. A smirk tugged at his scar as he watched your pink lips obediently part and round around your own fingers. He didn’t let go until he heard you choke, secretly plotting to replace them with something else—sooner, than later.

“My technique is what interests you, right? How about instead of telling you, I show you?”

You tried to remove your hand, but he shoved it back in, his true colors pouring into a devilish smile. “I’ve had enough of your voice. All you gotta do is sit back like the good little girl I know you are and keep your legs nice and spread for me. How’s that?”

The only thing your head could manage was pathetically bob up and down in agreement, your fingers stuck in your mouth like a damn pacifier, while your cunt pulsed at every single word he uttered; derogatory or not. Were it any other guy talking down to you like that, your knuckles would be leaving an impermanent imprint on his cheek. Were it any other guy treating you as if you had no volition of your own as if you were just a toy for him to break, and you—

There wouldn’t be any other guy for you ever again. He’d make sure of it.

He ripped the fabric into a single shred and tossed it over his shoulder without caring where it landed- your bedside lamp. He looked down at your pussy, debating to himself whether to start with his tongue or fingers first, calculating the time it’d take for him to prep you for his cock down to the last second. He might’ve been a lot less nice than he pretended to be, but he wasn’t about to go out of his way to hurt you. Not intentionally, at least.

“Let’s see,” he tipped forward, the way his forefinger slipped between your folds without any resistance whatsoever bringing you shame. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, his digit triumphantly pulling out and smearing your slick all over your puffy lips. “Is that all for me, sweetheart? So fucking wet just for me?”

Your hips bucked forward as an answer to his question and he thought he wouldn’t mind taking things slow for once— see how much you could take before you came completely undone.

“Girls like you make the best fuck,” he cooed, voice echoing right through your core. “Surrendering to the first sweet word they hear.” His thumb circled your clit, flicking at the little bundle of nerves. “Leaking at the slightest of touch.” His middle and ring fingers joined in the action, burying themselves as far inside walls as your tight hole let him push. “Breaking so easily.” He drooled, coating your entire pussy in his thick saliva before allowing himself a taste, tongue lapping at the mix of juices straight from the source.

Your thighs clenched around him, muffling the lewdness of a whimper as he looked up at you, his smirk loosening with every kitten lick across your flesh. You wanted to say something, to call out his name and moan for him, but it all felt so unpracticed— similarly to how unpracticed your cunt was when it came to the girth of his fingers; much bigger than yours, more experienced too. He reached depths you didn’t know existed, bringing your body such pleasure that had you writhing for more, hips slamming against his face.

He groaned, his own arousal throbbing against his lower abdomen, begging him to get this over with. “Wanna fuck my face, baby?”

You felt your cheeks ignite anew, the eyes you’d fallen for at first sight overflowing with lust, convincing you it felt as good for him as it felt for you.

“Can’t let ya do that,” he parted your folds, fingers spreading your thighs apart while his tongue darted between your lips, his nose intentionally nudging the pink nub with each deep stroke against your spongy spot. “Gotta earn it first.”

You stared at him like an idiot, wondering to yourself if somewhere between his refusal to shake your hand and his eagerness to quench his thirst with your body you’d passed away because that was what heaven ought to feel like. That was what angels ought to look like.

“Got something to say, princess?” his eyes shot up and he gestured for you to unlatch your mouth.

“S-so pretty,” you whispered.

“What was that?” his ears perked up, not because he hadn’t heard you the first time, but because he could do with some affirmation himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this… f-fuck—” a yelp punched its way out of your lungs as he folded you in half, pinning your thighs onto your stomach, and crawling onto the bed right after them.

He’d had enough of this little game.

“Good girls shouldn’t cuss like that. Six eyes didn’t teach ya that?”

Holding you down with one hand, he dived back into your pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a furious pace that had your upper body tossing and turning, the first unregulated moans ushering him to keep going. His tongue toyed with your swollen bud, the squelching of your cunt growing significantly louder from this angle, reverberating throughout the four walls of your bedroom. You were close, and so was he to getting his dick wet with all the mess he’d helped create.

His mouth watered just at the thought of his seed being the one to dribble down your thighs instead of his spit. He could picture you in one of those cute blue-navy skirts hanging from your closet and hoped you weren’t a tights person. He wanted to see you off to school every morning with your thighs sticking together so deliciously that anyone smart enough would understand how meticulously he’d fucked the brat out of you—

If only there was a mirror for you to see how stunning you looked. All fucked out and writhing, disheveled hair stuck on your tits and forehead while you nuzzled to the pillows, your shaky voice calling out to the surname he’d left behind. Would you still do that if you knew he played you like a fiddle? If you knew he was no esteemed Zen’in or sorcerer, for that matter, but a man hell-bent on ruining you for his own sick satisfaction?

Your body reciprocated his vile thoughts, your pussy fluttering around his digits. “Gonna cum for me?” he panted, forcing your legs to the side lest he missed a reaction.

Neither of you realized how his one hand had sneaked into his pants, stroking his veiny cock closer to the ecstasy he craved. Precum leaked hot out of the reddened tip, his thumb frantically swiping it over his length in sync with his thrusts. He’d stopped listening to your pleas and instructions. He fucked his fingers in you as he pleased, slowing down only when his balls began to dangerously tighten. Only then did he tear his fingers away ‘cause God forbid he busts his load in his palm like some fucking untouched teenager— regardless of how obscenely pretty you appeared for him or not.

Once he regained his composure, words made sense again. Harder. Faster. More. He hated being told what to do but absolutely loved how pliant you were. A people-pleaser, he bet. Going above and beyond what was asked of you, bending and breaking into whatever molds others force you to fit. He could work with that. Shape you into a mold only he could fit in.

“Cum for me, baby. Show me how much prettier y’ can get.”

His cock twitched as he felt your walls clamp down around his fingers, your sweet face contorting with pleasure, lips swollen with how hard they’d tried to contain the last bits of debouched decency.

How cute.

He set your legs down and moved up to meet your face with his, a wave of genuine softness rushing over him as he thought to kiss your lips tenderly, hushing whatever emotion had you spasming. You were so sensitive. Even if you’d been with another guy before him, he doubted they knew what they were doing— not like he did, anyway. He’d make you scream out his name for the neighbors to hear what a dirty slut lived just next door from them.

After a short while of his stroking your hair and whispering filth into your ears, he decided he’d been good enough to get his trick. He took your hand in his and guided it to his cock, grinning like a little kid as your smaller palm traced the outline over his pants, knowing full well both hands would do nothing to cover his girth.

He’d really missed this— so much that he didn’t mind letting a grunt out in appreciation, certain that more would follow.

Your eyes met, the spark in them telling him you understood what he expected you to do, and even if you didn’t, he’d teach you. He’d teach you everything, snatch you from that piece of shit and make you into his star student, so long as you kept touching him and let him do all the things he’d spent the last thirty minutes fantasizing about.

Everything and anything, all for you to take—

The thoughts that failed to reach your ears along with all traces of the man whose weight alone -up until a moment ago- threatened to crush your body into a fine powder evaporated, the smooth sound of his voice replaced by the crude breaks of your father’s car as he pulled into the driveway— your mother’s kitten heels soon clicking atop every step they climbed.

Shit.

A/N: I actually intended for this to be a one-shot, but I guess it sort of ended on a cliffhanger so, oops. Lemme know if I should write a second and final part, or if you have any Toji ideas/requests ♡

[blissfulip]

Dopamine

On AO3

Viktor x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut.

Cw: That weird guy being weird

Words: 1.6k

[A/N: tags and content warnings to be updated in each chapter, updates weekly. (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in fic updates!)]

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Chapter 2: Walking through water

He slept in for the first time in over a year, and although catching up on all those missed z’s was a welcome feeling, as soon as he woke up and sat at his desk, the uneasiness of not knowing what to do rushed over him.

Walking through water instead of air, the feeling of resistance that accompanied every task Viktor worked on drove him up the wall. It was bad enough that he had no access to any of his equipment, but he was also not allowed to retrieve any of his annotations from the lab to take home, so he was left with a pair of notebooks and some blueprints he had in his briefcase. It wasn't enough. 

Resignation. He was usually capable of extracting even the smallest things from thin air, but the circumstances and the maddening lack of resources had finally gotten the better of him. Before long, he felt the onset of something he hadn’t experienced in years: boredom. The invitation of his brain to play, desperate for stimulation. But Viktor was lost, this wasn’t something typical of him, and he didn’t know how to quench this thirst. 

He rummaged around the few volumes he had on his desk—nothing he hadn’t read at length before. Cleaning was quick and fruitless, it turns out that not spending any time in your own home proved to be the best way to keep it clean and organized. And of course, the fridge was empty, he didn’t remember the last time he ate a meal in that kitchen, let alone made one, but at least this need for sustenance could be turned into an assignment, so off to the market he went. 

It was sunny out. Not scorching, but pleasant enough to make this short walk enjoyable. The bubbling sounds of children running around, two people fighting near the fruit stalls, and vendors trying to talk over each other, the citric scent that turned into earthy basil that turned into peppery spices almost overwhelmingly fast—it was nice, he thought, and he lazily dragged his feet along the market, lingering a bit too long before walking back to the dormitories with what he needed.  

Cooking was surprisingly enjoyable as well, and he tried (unsuccessfully) to find a justifiable reason as to why he didn’t do it more often. Soon enough, the meal was finished, the food eaten and the dishes done, and the gentle feeling of rich accomplishment he had felt so far melted away when he found himself bored stiff.

And when he accepted that this problem had no solution, his mind landed on you, the culprit. He recalled all the previous instances in which you had interfered with his work before, like the time you had burned your eyebrows off with some strange flammable substance and had the progress day presentations postponed, and the time you had used all the magnesium alloys for an (excessively scaled, he thought) ‘experiment’ and left him without any for the pieces he was manufacturing, or the time the first hextech intern he ever hired had a complete meltdown over you rejecting him and had to be transferred. Granted, that last one wasn’t your fault, and Viktor never really held it against you, but it was just another case in point to prove that if something was related to you, it would probably be a problem for him. 

When memoirs are written about exceptional minds in history, there’s always something about all the trials and tribulations they had to endure—the obstacles on their way to greatness. And it’s not like Viktor thought he would ever get something like that written about him, but if he did, if he ever invented something revolutionary enough to warrant something like a memoir, it pained him to think that there would probably need to be a whole chapter about the pesky chemist that constantly tormented him. 

Even when he wasn’t working, you were there, a constant. Your thunderous laugh and the clicking sound you always made when you were in deep thought, your sarcastic remarks and the eternal self-satisfied grin you carried. Viktor found himself thinking about that way too often. 

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

The notification on your door to be present at the conference hall the next morning ruined your mood. You had been having quite the day off and were already making plans to get back to reading all the poetry books you had bought at the fair last summer, so the sudden promise of work had you deflating like a balloon. 

You noticed that the hall was packed, and that it probably wasnt equipped to host the entire roster of researchers the Academy had. You tried to distract yourself from the claustrophobic feeling brewing in your stomach by chatting with Moira about the crazy date she'd had the night before. Unfortunately, you were not going to get to the best part, since Heimerdinger came up and tapped the microphone lightly before she could talk about the guy's bad table manners.

"Attention, please, everybody! There, quiet down, please. Yes, thank you.” He started. “I’m sure you might all be wondering why I have gathered you here, and I am happy to announce I have great news to give you!”

Murmurs could be heard from various places along the hall.

“As you all know, the Academy had to make the difficult decision to close the laboratories temporarily due to the recent explosion at the manufacturing facilities. We know how distressed and impatient you must be to go back to your work and how frustrating the prospect of an entire month of idleness feels to brilliant people like you all,” he paused, seemingly for effect. “Thus, the Academy has decided to organize a seminar with some of our brightest minds at each of our research divisions, which will take place at the conclusion of this month-long absence of activity.” 

The quiet muttering gradually became a cacophony of confused exclamations and flat-out grunts of annoyance, but after people started to quiet down again, he continued.

“Everyone will be required to attend, but only one person per department is to be voted internally, both to be involved as an organizer and as a speaker. I shall leave you to it now, and expect a list of the chosen people at my desk by the end of the day, as well as one update at the end of each week leading to the date of the event. Good luck, my dears!” 

With that, he jumped off the platform he had been standing on to reach the microphone and left the room, ignoring any and all clamors of bewilderment. After some minutes of complaining, though, the people from each department begrudgingly got together to get the voting over with. Some of them chose randomly, others put it up to an actual vote and chose the person everyone thought was a better speaker, and others had volunteers. To your dismay, you were chosen to speak on behalf of the chemistry department. And, not surprisingly, Viktor volunteered on his end. 

No more than 30 minutes later, everyone else had left, except for the chosen people. A man from Biology you weren’t familiar with, Lara from Arts and Performance, a lovely older lady from History and Anthropology, Corso from Language and Literature, that weird guy from Poli-sci, Viktor, and you

The morale was not up the walls, even though you were all happy to have something to do, having to organize an entire workshop conference as well as the presentation each one of you had to give felt like more work than you would normally do at your respective labs. Not to mention, you knew this was nothing more than a copout for the academy, throwing this at you so that you didn’t get any free time without them having to get involved in any organizing themselves. 

Regardless, after a short talk, you decided to split into three groups. One would be in charge of the scheduling and agenda; the second would take care of the venues; and the last would take care of advertising, leaving Lara to design and print the flyers and posters. 

“Let’s team up, sweetheart, I know this amazing place downtown where we can organize everything.” You came to learn that his name was Asher, and you thought that name was not fit for how much of a sleaze he was.  

“Oh, I’m sorry, but I’m banned from that part of the city. I caused a three-way collision between 2 horses and an electric bike; there were no casualties, but I can’t be within a 3-mile radius of there.” You said with a deadpan expression. 

“What? Seriously?” He asked. Everyone else was either completely confused or mildly horrified, but Viktor knew you well enough to let out a small huff. 

“Of course not.” You chuckled and then picked up one of the folded-up pieces of paper Lara had been writing on for everyone to draw a name from. 

It was your turn to be horrified when you unfolded the paper and read Viktor’s name on it. After the initial shock wore off, however, you could’ve sworn you felt something akin to relief. Perhaps it was due to being saved from having to go with Asher, or maybe it was because Viktor was the only person there that you knew, even if you didn’t get along. 

But as it usually happens, any positive sentiment you ever harbored towards him came to a halt as swiftly as it came, when you heard him grunt in displeasure. You weren’t in the mood to throw any jibes at him in front of everyone, so you simply rolled your eyes. 

“1:00 p.m. tomorrow at the café near the night market. Bring a notebook, I left all of mine at the lab.” You said not bothering to look up at him as you gathered your things to leave the hall. 

You interpreted his silence as agreement. 

[vibratingskull]

The Trial part 2 : Don't turn your back

Part1, 2, 3, 4

Thrawn x f!reader

The trial continues and everything go south when you fall for the enemy's strategy...

The morning temperature is suffocating. You didn’t do a thing and you already want to run naked to the lake.

You open the tent and crawl out grunting, what a way to start the day. You observe the landscape at your feet, you don't hear Thrawn coming behind you; You nearly jump out of your skin.

“Maker! Sir, please make a sound next time. You will kill someone one day!”

He doesn’t answer, instead fixing the tent squinting.

“This is not your tent?” He asks, sounding a bit lost.

“I slept with Eli last night.”

Cosblo whistle in your back. You roll your eyes.

“You're a dunce, Cosblo.”

“Each group needs one” He shoots without missing a beat, it takes a smile off your face.

You turn back to a Thrawn staring at you with brows frowned. You’re taken aback. What did you do to deserve the cold shoulder like that? You didn’t…

Oh

Oh no.

Did he notice you last night?

You’re frozen in place under his gaze, you wish the earth could swallow you right here and now.

But he just closes his eyes and passes you. You release your breath.

“I am not sure this is the correct circumstance for a display of such behaviors, but I understand stress gets the best of us.”

What? Did he just insinuate…

“What does that mean exactly?”

“That I hope your… relationship will not interfere with the mission.” He warns with a cool tone.

What is going on here?

Eli took this moment to appear.

“ ‘Morning everyone.” He yawns.

“Good morning, Casanova!” Cosblo high fives Eli who blinks in confusion while you spat out your caf. This is ridiculous!

Thrawn takes the floor before you could interject.

“Once you have eaten, we will continue north until we reach the cliff I found yesterday.”

“Shouldn't we head west?” Cosblo intervenes “We won’t cross a cliff but a plateau, like on the map.”

“Well observed cadet, but it would take us a day or more to walk up there. I suggest we go for the shorter road.”Since nobody objected, you all rolled with it. “And while I am at it: Vanto, (y/l/n)? This is the last time this happened.” Eli's still lost and looks at you in hope to have some explanation, on your hand you're out of your mind. What the hell? You bare your teeth but don't answer anything. Keep calm,J. C.,keep calm.

You swallow what’s supposed to be a breakfast and your protests, pack your stuff and on the road again. It takes you a solid hour to attain the said cliff and once here you're stopped by the breathtaking view of the region.

A wow escapes you as you try to take a better view of the panorama.

“I regret I don’t have my imager to take a picture.” You say.

“Interesting to hear.” Thrawn slides beside you.

“Yes, I take a lot of…” You stop mid sentence “I will never let you see my collection.”

“Why not?” He asks genuinely surprised.

“You will psychoanalyze me over my dead body.”

“I did not have ulterior motives.” He simply responds.

You shake your head as you approach the edge. A fall would be extremely brutal at this height, surely some broken bones and if you're unlucky a broken spine you estimate.

You walk back to the group who’s taking out the climbing gear.

“Who’s going first ?” Ask Eli, leaning slightly to the edge of the void.

“I will.” You decide.

You drop your pack off the cliff and take the rope and the grip to start your descent carefully, one step after the other, trying your best not looking down. The stone is sharp and scorching hot, slashing the palms of your hands. You clench your jaw and push down. You plant the grip and pass the rope through it, checking if it’s secure and continue down below. You breathe out counting in your head to forget the height below you until your feet touch the ground and you can breathe correctly once more. You wipe your sweat off of your forehead and signify to the group that they could come down too.

Cosblo goes first, you hold the rope letting it slide as he descends. It went smoothly, and he reached the ground without problems.

“I will signal the next one, survey the surroundings.” He tells you.

You take your gun off your back and observe the vicinity, concentrating on sounds and visual cues. An animal flees in the bosques with a rustling sound but you don’t locate anything else.

You hear a thud and a cry of pain.

You go back running and find Eli on the ground holding his leg with Cosblo kneeled next to him.

“What happened?!” You shout.

Eli grimaces in pain, unable to respond. Cosblo begins to give way to panic.

“I… I don’t know. I was holding the rope then something hit my head and…”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“You dropped him?!” You fume.

Cosblo doesn't respond, looking everywhere frantically like a solution was under a random rock. Eli tries to spread his legs and lets out a whine of pain from his mouth. You kneel next to him to support him.

You knew you couldn’t trust this guy! He took it at the first occasion he got and now Eli is hurt with a cracked bone or worse. You feel rage growing in you.

Thrawn appears next to you out of fine air.

“What happened?” He asks way calmer than you.

“Cosblo dropped Eli!” You spit.

“Something hit my head!” He pleads.

“Bullshit!”

“Quiet, both of you!” Thrawn cuts off.

He helps Eli take off his boot to observe his leg, he wrinkles his nose as it’s already starting to swell. Eli winces as he manipulates his limb.

“He will need bacta treatment and perhaps a splint.” He diagnoses.

“What?” Eli is incredulous.

You look daggers at Cosblo who’s defeated, you don’t buy his little scheme even if he plays it well. You put your hand on Eli’s shoulder in a recomforting gesture.

“That’s your fault Jamwest!”

“I told you something hit me. Someone is here looking at us right this moment!” He says with a rock in his hand.

Thrawn raises his hand to shush everyone.

“Silence! What is done, is done. Now-”

He stops and fixes a point behind him. He quickly turns back.

“Help him on his feet.” He orders, “We need to move.”

You and Cosblo put your arms under Eli's shoulder and rise like one man. You follow Thrawn laboriously in the tall grass and bushes, adrenaline through your veins, until he stops with his fist in the air. He listens and points to a small cavern well hidden under the vegetation.

You crawl inside with Eli and Cosblo as Thrawn walks out the trail and starts climbing an enormous tree on the other side. You all wait in complete silence, barely daring to breathe, that something happens. Finally, after a minute, you can hear the sound of a little group emerging from where you come from.

“They went that way.” One whispers,“Let's go!”

You squint as a dispatched group appears behind the foliage, with great strides.They are five. The first one waves at the others to advance, their rifles in hand. They are clearly on the hunt.

One stops a little ahead of Thrawn, they are sandwiched between you. He flattens himself against the wood and points you as he takes out his gun. You frown, what does he mean?

“Are you sure you didn’t lose them? We can’t see them anymore.”

You suddenly remember you have the sniper rifle, you detach it off your bag and posture yourself. You will need to be quick, you don’t know what kind of sound it will produce.

You inhale and exhale several times, emptying your head and aim.

One loud clack echoes in the jungle and one person collapses. You don’t take the time to savor your victory and pass to the next. Alerted, they all stopped and regrouped with their weapons drowned, ready to shoot anything in sight. Impossible to have a clear shot with all this movement.

“They’re here! Regroup! Regroup!”

Back to back they form a circle to cover every possible direction, they well learned their lessons. You choose your next victim in this commotion and aim. She flashes red and collapses before you could pull the trigger, Thrawn was more rapid than you on this one.

“They are dispatched! Search!”

Thrawn takes a second one, but betrays his position by doing so.

“Up! They’re in the-” You shoot this one up. Silence!

The last one realizes he is alone and starts searching frantically, spinning again and again. You put him out of his misery with a well placed shoot in the chip. All his body turns red and he falls down silently.

You sigh with relief, not bad for a first encounter. You crawl back out and help Eli as Thrawn already starts to investigate their package without regard for one adversary whining right next to him.

“Bastards! You-”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up!” You shoot her in the chip too. She makes a strangled noise and blacks out.

“That was uncalled for…” Cosblo starts, supporting Eli.

“Shut the fuck up Jamwest Cosbblo.” You articulate every word. “You’re not in any position to comment on my behavior.” You slide the cannon of your rifle towards his chest. The ire you felt was far from down.

He stares at you wide-eyed, taken aback.

“I have found the cylinder.” Thrawn notes on a conversational tone.

You turn your head, approaching him, or rather moving away from Cosblo. He had already taken out the datapad to plug it.

“Is it the B team?” You ask over his shoulder.

“No, but I am curious about that data.” He starts to analyze.

It takes a minute once again and the results appear on the screen.

“So?” You try to unclench your jaw.

“It is just auto generated text and numbers.” He pouts. His shoulders seem to lower a bit.

“Perfect! Are we going?” You ask with a false enthusiasm.

You don’t wait for any answer and start walking straight forward.

A deeply irritating calm voice stops you on your tracks.

“Cadet (y/f/n), it is useless to go this fast. We have a wounded comrade on our arms.”

“I’m not a dead weight either.” Eli speaks, a bit annoyed.

You take a deep breath through your nose.

“Sure. How insensitive of me.”

And you go back.

The group walk in silence, safe for an occasional whine of pain from Eli and the encouraging words from Thrawn. You lead them with angry steps, well ahead, ruminating on what happened, playing the scene again and again. Imagining Cosblo letting go of the rope and letting Eli fall from this height. That bastard. You couldn't believe it, but here you are.

You try to calm down, but you know that once you started it, it takes you time to go down again. You hear Cosblo whispering to Eli.

“Your girlfriend has some serious anger issues, dude.” You swear you’re gonna punch this guy.

You choose a plateau covered by foliage to drop your bag and let Eli rest. They sat him down on a rock while you're circling aimlesslyl, trying to put your mind at ease. But to no avail. Everything gets on your nerves at this moment, the precarious situation, the pained expression of Cosblo, the whines of pain of Eli, the orders of Thrawn, the heat, the trial…

You need to isolate yourself.

To clear your mind.

You put your rifle on your back and start walking again in a random direction.

You hear Thrawn calling you back but you choose to ignore it, going deeper in the unfamiliar jungle. The more distant the better.

He calls you once more and you accelerate. What do you need to do to get one minute of tranquility?

You hear steps behind you, you start to run.

The steps go after you. You hear your name again.

You run without thinking right in front of you, blinded by anger and frustration. You hear them getting closer but you don’t slow down.

You reach a large clearing and you stop to catch your breath. The steps stop and you're greeted with an icy cold voice.

“Cadet (y/n) (y/l/n)!”

You frown. You’re in no mood to take the beat without shouting back.

“Sir, I assure you this is not the right time.”

“Cadet, you will come back to the camp right this instant.”

You turn to face him.

“No.”

“No?” He squints.

“No.” You insist

“I am your Lieutenant and you will follow my orders.” He detaches every single word.

This is the only language he understands, the hierarchy.

“Oh really? I thought we were comrades earlier?” You frown.

“This trial doesn’t erase the hierarchy.”

You snarl.

“We’ll see that. If I’m really insubordinate as you claim, then the instructor would surely have struck me down by now.”

It’s his turn to frown.

“Perhaps.” His voice is warmer but the menace is undoubtedly here. “But you’re making a mistake.”

He takes one step towards you like a predator, by reflex you draw your weapon. His eyes widened an instant but went back to his imperturbable mask of stoicism just as quick. You blink, torn between anger and a growing fear, but you muffle this last one. You’re really flirting with the red line.

“Cadet…” He warns “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“If I’ve learned anything about you, it's that you like to play this game yourself.” You retort. “You wanna bet who’s gonna win this round?”

You draw your rifle closer to your face, aiming at his chest. He surely thinks you’re bluffing but you’re dead serious. You know you can be a real hazard when you’re pushed to your limit, that’s why you wanted some space to calm yourself in the first place but he doesn’t facilitate the task.

He takes one more step.

You shoot between his feet.

A loud clack rings in the clearing. Some birds fly away. You look at each other in silence. You feel yourself trembling with rage and tension.

He raises an open hand as an appeasing gesture.

“Cadet, let’s get back to the camp if you please.” The voice is soft but the tone is commanding.

You shake your head. You feel this weird tension from those three last months bubbling out to the surface and you’re afraid of the explosion.

“No. Listen, I just need some space to breathe, can you understand that?”

“I am afraid not, it would be playing in the hands of the adversary team.”

“The one we just beat?” You snigger.

“We may have just defeated them, but their initial plan is still unfolding at this very moment and it will be profitable to the others very soon.”

“What plan?” You’re losing patience.

“Creating dissension in the group by striking Cosblo.”

“Don’t tell me you believe this jackass?”

“I do.”

Once again you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“I asked you to be a reasonable person, you remember? Eli is mature enough to not let it get to him, I trust you can do the same, cadet.” He is trying the diplomacy tactic now.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you but not at the moment! Taking the risk to repeat myself but I need-”

A clac rings in the clearing but none of you shooted.

You feel a burning sensation and compression on your side as you lower your gaze. You see red slowly spreading on your hip.

You’ve been hit.

You’ve been hit!

You freeze in disbelief, you don’t see Thrawn sprinting towards you and hitting you with all his weight.

“Dive!”

You hit the floor with such impact it forces the air out of your lungs. As you cough you hear people shouting and running towards you. You’ve got company!

But you don’t care. You barely register what’s happening.

You’ve been hit.

lt hurts.

There is so much red…

Blood.

You’re bleeding.

A breath gets caught in your throat as you go into panic. You’re bleeding!

“Bleeding… I’m bleeding!” You croak.

“Calm down cadet (y/l/n).” Thrawn’s voice barely reaches you.

“I’m bleeding! I’m bleeding!”

You go into a frenzy, crying and clawing at your wound. You will bleed to death if you don’t receive treatment, maybe the corvette won’t be fast enough.

“Everything is okay Cadet! You are in shock...”

“I’m bleeding! I’m gonna die!”

You start crying, scratching your face, drawing blood, screeching.

Suddenly a pair of strong hands seize your shoulder and shake you one rough time.

“Cadet (y/n)!”

You look at Thrawn wide eyed and mouth agape, impossible to make a single sound as they all get stuck in your throat. Thrawn’s looking at you, jaw clenched and brows frown with an intense stare. You feel a tear rolling down your cheek as you try to speak but just open your mouth slightly more.

Thrawn visibly relaxes and his tone soothes as you stop screaming.

“Everything is good cadet, you are not wounded.”

A hiccup escapes you as you start sobbing.

He sighs and his hands pass behind your neck, bringing your head to his chest. The rhythmic sound of a steady heart reaches you and lulls you.

You're frozen in place, unmoving, eyes wide open and silent under the warm body of Thrawn. Eyes fixed on a point away, you’re pressed against his chest where you can hear his steady heartbeat and your heart could sing if only you were fully aware of your surroundings and not terrified at the same time. You start contemplating on how you ended up in this position…

You can feel him cradling you gently.

“Everything is fine. Nothing can reach you here.” He murmurs.

You blink slowly, starting to come back to your senses, still shaking with sobs. You realize you’re not in the clearing anymore but on your knees in a dark cavern only illuminated by luminescent mushrooms. How did you get here?

You take a deep breath to stop the hiccup and you pull apart from one another, you nod as a thank you and get back on your feet.

“Where are we?” You ask with a shaky voice.

“We are in a cavern as you can see.” He responds. “I managed to drag us here while you were in shock.”

You nod. You look around but don’t manage to find any daylight. How deep are you?

“The other team…?” You begin.

“Will not be a problem for now, but we should refrain from retracing our steps back.”

He wedges his gun on his back and takes out his comlink.

“Cadet Vanto, can you hear me?”

Static noises ring to give place to a relieved voice.

“Thrawn? Thank maker, I tried to join you several times! Is (y/n) with you?”

“She is. We ran into an ambush.”

“You’re okay?”

“Everything is fine, we escaped them through a network of caverns. It will take us a day to get out, we will need to regroup. Can you see a tall reddish tree?”

“A tall red tree… Yes!”

“We will come and meet you there in one day. Do not stay where you are, they must certainly scavenge in your zone.”

“Understood. Over.”

He puts back his comlink and invites you to walk deeper in this cavern. He explains as you look uncertain.

“There is a web of caverns but they all lead to the outside. I have studied them on the datapad earlier, I can guide us through it.”

You’re not even surprised anymore.

You nod once again and he takes the lead in those sinuous ways.

You walk in silence. With the fallout of earlier all your fear and anger has dropped, you just feel a nagging fatigue but you focus on the present moment. You travel side by side, helping each other with the different obstacles. It is especially difficult with your locked suit that hinders your movements in addition to being painful. But you manage to walk past it and your progress is relatively uneventful.

At some point Thrawn stops.

“No need to go further for now. Resting would be best, we should go back for the first hours.”

Without some real choice you stop and head towards those shiny mushrooms.

“We should test it first for poisoning.” You hear behind you.

“Ha yesh’, thatch a goo’ ideach.” You respond, the mouth already full of those goodies.

Oops.

He looks at you and shakes his head with a tired expression.

“Forget what I said.”

You swallow, discreetly, and shoot a smile. It’s really sour. Guess you will know if they're poisonous soon enough.

You gather some woodish plants that are sneaking around the wall of the cave and Thrawn starts the fire with a good old method: two stones.

You sit and look at him through the flames, contemplating your situation. It upsets you, but you owe him excuses, to the whole team.

“Thrawn I…”

His flaming gaze darts on you, letting you know you have his attention despite is mute behavior. You swallow your pride.

“... I’m… sorry… for what happened.”

He remains silent, inviting you to continue with one gesture of the hand. He really wants you to go all the way, huh?

“I shouldn’t have run this way and left the team vulnerable, but I was in a bad headspace and did what I thought was the right course of action. In insight, it was a terrible idea.”

You manage to finish. He slowly nods.

“I hear what you say, and I thank you for honesty.” He murmurs. “Can I ask you where those bursts of anger come from?”

You frown at him.

“From what I have seen… and comprehend, I suspect them to be the symptom of ptsd for your case. I was wondering if you had the chance to talk about it to someone.” He says, thoughtfully.

“I…” You commence, gathering your thoughts, wondering if you wanted to share this story.

Your gaze travels through the interior of the cavern, ending once again on the eyes of Thrawn. You’re enthralled by them, getting the courage to continue.

“I hate when we let each other down because… because when I was a child I…” You gulp, eyes fixated on your fidgeting hands. “I saw… one of my cousins got slain by a rival family. And we weren’t there to help him. We were hiding in the bushes with some of my siblings and cousins and we saw him get shot in the head by them.” Your lips tremble, you fight back tears.

“You were a child, you could hardly do anything else other than hiding.” He says softly.

You nod.

“Yes, it was logical. The only logical thing for a child to do.” Your voice breaks. “Only he was fourteen. We should have… we should have gone get an adult.” You feel a tear traveling down your cheek. “Do something…”

You wipe the tears with the back of your hand.

“You must take me for a hypocrite,” You smile without joy ”I say I hate when people let each other down and I did it the first chance I got.”

“I think we all grief our own ways, your own manifested in an unfortunate way today.” He states pensively.

You don’t respond, relieved that he doesn’t bury you with reproaches yet.

You rub your hands and expose them to the fire. This cave is freezing cold.

You slide yourself way closer to Thrawn.

“If I may, it’s to warm up.” You smile timidly.

He doesn't respond, letting you bring yourself closer to his warmer body and the fire.

You clear your throat, desperate for a conversation subject.

“But… I suppose… I mean I guess, you also had some terrible ideas in the past?” You try, murmuring too.

His gaze travels from you to the fire, contemplating his thoughts.

“I did.”

“No really? I wasn’t serious, what kind of terrible ideas a tactical genius like you can have?” You laugh, your eyes still moist.

“My brother died because of one of my plans.” He whispers.

Your laugh dies immediately.

“We were fighting pirates, and he met his demise in the crash of his ship under my commandment.” He said, his gaze fixated on the fire like the face of his brother was in it.

You’re struck by lightning, don’t know what to say. So you remain silent.

“Sometimes I wonder what if I had done things differently, would he still be here?”

“That is the best way to go mad, trust me. I did the same thing.”

“I know,” he breathes, “But the mind wanders without reason or guidance…”

Your mouth is dry, what could you possibly say to alleviate his pain? You clear your throat.

“Don’t dwell on the past, you should just… Be grateful to have known your brother.”

This is surely the cheesiest response possible, but you don’t have better for now. Comforting is not one of your fortes, much to your regret.

He doesn’t answer, nodding pensively still fixated on the fire.

Silence settles again.

You try something to lighten the atmosphere.

“You wanna know a secret?”

He looks at you, head resting on his hand.

“Cosblo and I, well… We’re exes.”

He frowns, staring at you head to toe, visibly surprised.

“You didn’t expect this one, didn’t you?’

“I must admit, I did not.” He looks like he’s trying to digest the info or to glue back two incompatible pieces.

“Well, not a lot of people are aware of that. It’s a secret we share and hide from the rest of the galaxy.”

You really want to pry on his love life but it might wake up some pain, and you figure you both had your dose for the night.

You continue.

“It dates back to high school, he reminded me of one of my star crushes that I saw on the posters of the Empire. It ended the day I tried to introduce him to my family, they didn’t try too hard to present like… “respectable” people and he ran away. He has given me a bad reputation since.”

“Without passing judgment, you seem to be doing just fine now.”

You frown, what does he mean?

You recall this morning conversation.

“Oh, you mean with… Eli?”

He blinks affirmatively.

“No!” You laugh in embarrassment. “No, no. Eli is a sweet guy, but he’s… I am… He’s not my type.” You try to explain “He’s like my little bro’ at the Academy.”

He pouts.

“A pity.”

“You are judging now.” You warn.

“My apologies.”

You continue to discuss this way until late in the night, about everything and nothing. Or rather you’re the one talking, Thrawn only nods or answers with evasive sentences, you thought he was a bit bored but he was always reactive in the discussion, his attention fully on you. But the opening of vulnerability you saw earlier is clearly sealed. And like that you fall asleep next to one another, searching each other’s body for warmth now that the fire had extinguished, and in spite of your suit that makes every possible position uncomfortable and a bit painful.

At some point a little regular sound gets you out of sleep, you blink trying to remember where you are and realize you were sleeping on Thrawn’s shoulder, his head resting on yours. You move away carefully not to wake him up, and you actually take the time to detail his resting face. The last time you got to see him sleeping you were tempted to kiss him. You berate yourself at the thought of this childish display of want. Now that you take the time to think about it, you would want nothing more than to embrace him with all your might and him embracing you back with enthusiasm, to hear his heartbeat again and feel his hand caressing your hair softly. You still want to kiss him you confess, oh gods you do, but this wish subside in front of the desire to make one with him, one heartbeat.

You gently trace the contours of his cheek with your finger, dreaming your fantasies while admitting to yourself, finally, that you were falling in love.

The regular sound gets you back to reality and you realize it’s your comlink once again. You rise up on your feet and move away to another chamber for privacy. You open the transmission and a screeching sound with static assaults your ears. You flinch, it’s terribly disagreeable. But you can still hear a discordant voice in this cacophony, a voice that you guess is of one of your cousins in “the business”, but impossible to say which one. The audio is horrifyingly chopped, but you manage to take out some words.

“Hello?”

“... hear me…”

“What? I can barely hear you.”

“... careful… … new meat… market… … governing…”

And it cuts.

What?

You don’t understand.

You gather your thoughts, trying to make the most of it. Apparently there is a new “product” on the black market, but “new meat”? You don’t get it.

And why warn you? You’re no more part of the business of your family. It doesn’t make sense.

Lost in your thought you don’t hear Thrawn walking away from your hiding place. You decide you will have the mind clearer once in the morning and get back in the chamber where you left Thrawn. You found him in the same position as you left him. You smile interiorly, placing yourself back, your head on his shoulder. You deeply inhale his scent, and close your eyes.

The morning comes way too quickly to your taste, waking up is proven difficult and the prospect of breakfast with those mushrooms doesn’t help. You eat reluctantly and go back on the road soon after.

Once again you progress uneventfully. Until you found something at a turning point.

“What the…?” You start.

You open your eyes wide at the sight of a 74-Z speeder bike laying there.

“What is it doing here?”

“They mentioned vehicles if I recall. They must have scattered them through the region for the teams to find.” He supposes.

“Wonderful! We can join Eli and Jamwest way faster now!” You cheered, jumping right on the seat.

You work the gear but nothing happens.

“It doesn't work.” You lament disappointedly.

Thrawn kneels next to the speeder, eyeballing the transport.

“I see. It is a test to evaluate our mechanics abilities.”

You sigh, not another test. Can nothing work like it is supposed to just for once? You get off the speeder and kneel in front of Thrawn.

“Alright, so what do we got?”

“Hold this.”

It takes you two hours with bare hands to work on the bike, a lot of things were plugged and turned and your skin was pinched to blood more than once, but finally, after several fruitless tries you turn the gear and a rumble echoes between the stone walls of the cavern.

You can’t refrain from a cry of joy.

“Hell yeah! Give me five!”

But Thrawn just squints at you with a confused expression.

“Here, that’s how you do it!”

You take his arm and top his hand with yours with a broad smile. He looks at his hand with a raised eyebrow but doesn’t comment anything.

Sometimes humans really puzzle him.

He takes place in the driver seat and you take place behind him, a little disappointed to not drive, but you soon forget it as you get to take him in your arms. You press yourself gleefully against his broad back, your cheek resting against his warm body. His scent fills up your nose again, and you breathe it joyously.

He makes the motor roar.

“Hang on!”

No need to tell you twice.

You flinch as he starts the engine and picks up speed instantly. You see the walls pass before your eyes at high speed as you fly like the wind. The road is uneven and bumpy, forcing you to snuggle yourself against him tighter, it’s a good excuse and you take full advantage of it, feeling your heart beat faster against him. Flying like that makes you feel like you weigh like a feather and everything is lighter. You feel your ponytail flowing behind you, even your suit seems to less compress you.

Soon you can catch sight of sunshine.

The exit. Finally

You burst out of the cave at full speed, it takes off the ground and you yelp in surprise. You drift on the tall grass and almost plummet off the bike but you’re holding on.

His driving is clearly not the most agile you got to see but it does the job, you close your eyes as low branches come scratch your face. At this moment a shadow passes between the trees next to you. You blink. Did you really see that? You squint and focus. But you see noth- Here! It disappears as quickly it appeared, but you clearly see it this time!

“Thrawn!”

“I know. They are just behind us.”

You hear them more than you see them now, but you’re unmistakably followed by other bikers. You come out on a plateau without forest and three rivals appear behind you with the urge to fight. You gulp at their expressions, they are determined and seem prone to violence.

They’re riding a 74-Z similar to yours, at the difference that they’re faster. You clench your jaw as you realize that you’re technically a dead weight behind Thrawn and you slow him down considerably.

Despite that you feel him accelerate and start zigzagging between the trees and the boulders, they follow without too much difficulty, and get some terrain over you. You hear them laugh as they harass you.

“They are still following us!” You shout over the noise.

He tacks fully to the right, almost throwing you out off the bike, and rushes into a trench. You‘re taken off your seat for seconds until the hard landing, you bang your head against his back.

They’re right on you but are limited by the width of the trench at least.

You shot a glare behind you.

“Dive!” Thrawn warns.

You have just the time to hunch, you pass under a massive trunk. You feel the drought as it grazes your hair. The second pursuer didn’t see it tough and you hear a dull sound as he rushes into it at full speed. You feel for him on this one, he will be very lucky if he doesn’t have the jaw broken.

“Shit!” You hear his teammate swear.

The nice side effect is that his fall slowed down the third one dramatically, the less nice side effect is that the first one is still on your heels and she’s really, really angry now.

She extends her hand, trying to grasp your ponytail. You sweep it away with a large gesture of the arm, throwing both of you off balance. Thrawn rectifies the best he could, but the weight doesn’t help. You emerge from the trench into a plateau in a cacophony of noisy engines and bended sheets of metal.

“Come back here freak! I know you have it!” She screams.

Anger rises at this nickname, you suddenly really want to punch her in the face. Well, you can’t, but you just thought about something almost as satisfying.

“Keep a straight line and let her get closer.” You enjoin Thrawn.

He complies and you see her smile enlarging as she gets on you.

“You’re about to get what you truly deserve, blueface!” She yells.

She acts like she already won. Good, she will be less cautious. You wait for her to get next to you and in a smooth motion you pivot on your seat and jump off.

You land off behind her. You didn’t hit her with your knee as you wanted, but that’s okay. You pick up your gun from your back and slide it under her throat while she tries to maintain the balance of the vehicle, you violently bring your arms back and pull her off the controls, she lets a strangled noise escape her as she tries to ease the pressure on her throat. You spin and let her fall almost carelessly. You look at her rolling in the dirt with a satisfied grin.

You dive onward and take control of the handlebars before you collide with something.

“Two for the price of one!” You shout gleefully to Thrawn.

He nods and slows down at the limit where the jungle starts again, you both stop and look behind. Away you see the third one, stopped too, looking back at you like he is trying to make a decision. You give him a dark look, fully prepared to bring it on if he’s starting again. He stares at you both and turns, retracing his steps towards his fallen comrades.

You observe him pick up the girl when Thrawn speaks.

“It appears I have made a miscalculation.”

You turn back to him in surprise.

“I’m sorry?”

He reaches into his pocket and takes out the cylinders.

“I wanted to take care of it because I am confident in my abilities, but it appears in insight that as the odd one out, I am an obvious target.”

He holds out the cylinder to you. You look without understanding.

“They expect me to have it, we should contradict those expectations.”

You nod, taking the cylinder and putting it in your pocket.

“Let’s go.” Thrawn simply says.

You follow, with the engines at the bare minimum to minimize the noise and you travel for an hour in silence, until you finally see the red tree Thrawn talked about. At last.

Tree grants you shadows but, once again, the temperature is merciless. You raise your hand to shield your eyes and see Eli waving at you. He looks already in a better state than when you left him. You feel a pinch of guilt at his smile.

“What do you got there?” He asks.

“Two brand new 74-Z speeder bike.” You announce proudly.

“I can see that, but where do they come from?”

Thrawn explains to Eli all of the situation while you look over his shoulder. Cosblo stands slightly set back with a closed expression. You both cross-eyes. You offer a contrite smile. He nods.

“What happened (y/n)?” Eli finally asks.

You sigh and decide to put all your cards on the table.

“I needed some time alone to take stock of the situation and I put the team at risk by my sole selfishness. I want to say I’m sorry.”

Eli put his arm around your shoulder.

“And you’re pardoned. Don’t cause us another fright like that again.”

You laugh alongside one another.

“But tell me, you’re radiant. How’s your leg?”

He stretches it in front of you. It got a splint.

“Brand new like your bike! Jamwest did the splint.” They use each other’s name now?

“Did you know he got medical skills thanks to his mother who is an apothecary?”

Yeah, it reminds you of something.

“Now that you're here, we got good news.” Cosblo announces.

Everyone turns towards him.

“We’ve located the B team.”

@bluechiss

[arcsimper5]

Yaim'ol - Chapter 3

yaim'ol - [yai-MOHL] - return, homecoming

Pairing: Sev x F!Jedi OC, Scorch x F!Jedi OC Characters: Delta Squad (Republic Commando), F!Jedi OC Cin Rating: M - Explicit content in later chapters Warnings: Gore, Canon-typical violence, angst, smut (later chapters), descriptions of injury, force osik.

Following on from the end of Republic Commando, Sev and Cin must make their way through the galaxy, overcoming trials and tests in a bid to keep themselves alive long enough to reunite with their squad.

Chapter 3 - Loyalty

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

The words seemed to ring hollow in his ears, his mind reeling.

Laid on the floor, helmet off, completely vulnerable as Cin stood over him, her lightsaber blade pointed squarely at the cracked armour of his chest, he knew he should have felt something.

Fear, maybe? Relief, at seeing her again? No… There was nothing. Nothing but anger.

The Jedi were traitors. She was a traitor.

Wasn’t she?

Staring up at her, his eyes were cold and dull. None of the warmth that used to hide beneath the surface, the adoration he used to direct at her remained.

It was like he’d been hollowed out somehow, left a shell of his former self. A shell which had retained his skill, his speed, his strength. A shell that had been hunting her for just over a week now.

She looked… different.

Her usually pristinely styled hair had been cut short, raggedly, likely with a vibroblade, he reasoned in his mind.

Kark… Why was he looking at her? Why wasn’t he just killing her? He knew her tells, he knew how to disarm her.

Just laying there, he could think of at least four ways to knock the lightsaber from her grip and turn it on her without injuring himself.

So why couldn’t he do it?

Cin remained above him, frozen in place, staring at his face as if waiting for something.

A deep cut ran over her bottom lip, grazes and bruises littering the skin of her cheeks, her shoulders, every inch of exposed flesh he could see beneath tattered robes, and an odd compulsion ran through him to reach out, to caress her, to care for her.

Shaking his head, he growled angrily, baring his teeth.

Traitor. Die. Must. Die.

He didn’t even realise he’d spoken aloud until Cin’s breath hitched, tears streaming down her face.

“I don’t understand!” she said in little more than a whisper, the trembling of her hands apparent.

More recognition began to creep back, Sev’s eyes running over her.

Maker, she looked so skinny. When was the last time she’d eaten? He’d had his emergency supply of ration bars on him when he’d crawled out of the wreckage… No… Wait… Been pulled out… 

When was that? Days? Months? Years?

Time felt mixed up.

Another memory flashed across his mind, eyes screwing up in pain as it seemed to physically burn him.

Cin laid underneath him, grinning as he pinned her against the practice mat. Sweat beaded on her chest, the low cut vest top she wore giving him the perfect view of her ample cleavage.

“Got you again,” he purred, leaning down to lick a trail from the join of her shoulder up her neck. She shivered with delight, arching against him, relishing the strength he used to hold her in place.

“M-Maybe I let you win,” she breathed, raising an eyebrow at Sev’s wicked grin.

“Of course, mesh’la,” he teased, taking in the sight of her below him. They were so close now, he could practically taste her with every breath.

“That’s the third time you’ve called me that today,” she complained softly, a frown forming on her face. “Are you going to finally tell me what it means?”

“The deal was, if you won,” he chastised her playfully, her fingers flexing against his in annoyance. Before he could even register it, he felt the pull of the Force, his body flipping over in an instant. She was immediately back on him, straddling his hips, his arousal clear as she leant back over him.

“I win,” she chuckled hungrily. “Told you I lost on purpose.”

“Minx,” he breathed, trying not to groan and arch as she leant back over him, her face mere centimetres from his once more.

“Tell me,” she urged, though it was more of a desperate plea now, the question in her eyes burrowing into his soul.

“Beautiful,” he whispered finally, averting his eyes for fear of what he might find waiting for him. “It means beautiful.”

A thousand questions ran through Cin’s mind, but she couldn’t voice them. Not when he was this close, this vulnerable beneath her. He could have flipped them back at any moment, but he was allowing this, allowing her to see him like this.

Closing the gap between them, she brushed her lips over his, earning a low, almost feral moan. Strong arms wrapped around her as a deft tongue swiped against her mouth, demanding access to what it had always wanted…

“N-No…”

Sev’s eyes stung as he blinked, trying to take in the sudden change of position. He’d been on the floor mere seconds ago, with her above him. Yet now…

He could feel the unfamiliar trailing of tears down his cheeks as he stared down at her, his vibroblade clutched in both hands above her, ready to strike as she lay beneath him, a twisted version of the memory.

Now, instead of warmth and fondness, there was cold terror in her eyes, her mouth parted slightly, hand outstretched towards her lightsaber but held down by his knees on her forearms.

“S-Sev, please, I… I need you to l-listen to me… this… isn’t you!”

She was sobbing, gasping for breath as his hands twitched.

It’s simple, his brain reasoned. You’ve done this a thousand times before. Kill her. End this. Take her lightsaber to the capital. Prove your loyalty.

Loyalty…

The word seemed to ring in his ears.

She’d come for him, saved him on the ship when his brothers couldn’t. She’d protected him and them, knowing they couldn’t disobey orders.

Brothers… Maker… he’d forgotten them. How had he forgotten them?

All he could remember was rage, pure and undiluted at seeing her face when she’d dragged him from the wreckage of the ship, desperately calling his name.

“Sev?”

His hesitation was telling, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Good… soldiers… follow… orders.”

The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

He was a good soldier, he was. So why couldn’t he kill her?

She was a traitor!

She… She’d betrayed them…

How? 

His own voice asked the question, desperate for answers.

How has she betrayed you? She’s been with you all this time. Every comm, every message, every shore leave, she’s been with you. How has she betrayed you? You know this is wrong.

Something in his mind snapped, searing pain ricocheting through his skull as if his very blood was on fire.

He registered the clattering of his vibroblade, then a warmth consuming him, soft murmurings in his ear.

“Stay with me, Sev, please… please, cyare… I need you, I… I love you, Sev.”

Eyes snapping open again, Sev fought the pain as he reached for his vibroblade once more, Cin’s eyes filled with horror as he clutched it, drawing it back, and…

The trandoshan mere feet behind them let out an awful howl as the blade pierced its eye as it launched its body through the bushes, shattering bone and scale and brains, the corpse falling to the floor with a thump.

He could hear Cin’s panting for breath, her entire body quivering as he collapsed back against her, his head still ringing.

“S-Sev?” she whimpered, as if speaking too loudly might trigger another bout of murderous rage from him.

Looking up, he saw her properly for the first time in days, without the haze of rage, without the need to harm, and he was devastated.

“M-Mesh’la…”

The cry of relief she let out was heartbreaking, settling deep into him and refusing to budge. He could only clutch at her as she sobbed against him, fingertips digging into his armour.

“I- I knew you’d, you’d come back,” she blubbered into his neck, tears wetting his skin, “I knew you were in there.”

Exhaustion overtook him as reality warped and waned, pain and relief mixing together to send him into a blissful sleep state. Only a few words managed to slip past his lips as he collapsed, Cin calling him once more, her panic growing.

“L-Love you… too…”

[thatnerdybookgirliscool]

Thomesa Week Day 2- Just a Little Longer

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner

Relationship: Teresa Agnes/Thomas (Maze Runner)

Characters: Thomas (Maze Runner), Teresa Agnes

Additional Tags: Angst, Canon Compliant, bookverse, POV Teresa Agnes, Teresa Agnes Redemption, The Scorch Trials (Book 2) Thomesa Week 2024

@thomesa-week

[yungimmortals]

16 for graves c:

omg this is perfect bc i've had something like this in my brain forever ty ty please enjoy his inner monologue 16: what your character does on a day off

What was an average day like for Graves? Well, let him set the scene.

7am: alarm goes off! SLAP that noisy bitch it's snooze time

7:40am: okok that's alarm number two and that is the sound of two campers yelling at each other down the hall shit shit shit

7:45 am: scramble out of bed grab some pants ok sniff test yeah these are fine! get dressed get dressed hurry up!! run in the kitchen, grab a bagel, toast it and don't forget to lock your room while it toasts (not that that'll help, all these heathens can get in but at least it's an extra step)

7:55am: oh shit is something burning oh fuck someone’s calling my name it’s one of the younger campers aw shit Fuck time to sprint down the hall and deal with that HOw did my sisters do this

8am: cabin inspection oh Fuck we're going to fail again i hope it's one of the nice counselors i hope they don't notice the kitchen scorch marks. smile and wave boys

8:15am: tam put your fucking swords away i dont care if theyre sheathed how did this even get out here. lock, stop encouraging your weird friend you're no help

8:20am shout to spencer for backup and hope she was already awake or else she'll probably be cranky

8:21am: make apology coffee in the event she's mad

8:30am: re-toast a bagel because your first one got charred and maybe also eat a banana for energy

9am: get the hooligans to their first round of training!!! mon/weds/thurs they have archery first thing in the morning. tues/fri it's ancient greek lessons

10:30am: collect the hooligans for cabin chores!! yawn. usually dish duty, sometimes polishing armor. helping in the strawberry fields is rare but everyone's favorite ** try to get this on next week's schedule

11am: battle training round 2. m/w/th it's sword lessons. t/f it's flying lessons. don't forget that doug is scared of the pegasi so he gets dropped off at the rock wall instead!!

12pm: mythology lessons for the younger campers. older campers have a free hour thank fuck

1pm: call the little fuckers for lunch. make sure none are missing, make extra sure none pranked chiron. we can't have a repeat of last month smh

1:15pm: break up an argument over seating and who made a better offering ffs

1:30pm: activity time!!! send them off to be someone else's responsibility.

1:45pm: run to pantheon to do a few deliveries, check in with spencer to see if she can collect the hooligans for chore block part 2 (she'll prob say yes) -- deliveries all afternoon, make that bread let's go baybeee!

6pm: run back to camp for dinner after doing deliveries all afternoon

6:05pm: break up another seating arrangement fight -- seriously this is ridiculous

7pm: competition time! time to make those alliances count :))) events rotate weekly with first week of the month being volleyball league (no powers allowed), unarmed combat (week 2), time trials (more obstacle course type shit, week 3), and capture the flag the last week of every month

7:10pm: worry you didn't confirm your cabin alliances this month

7:15pm: find out that you did and cabin 11 has the competition in the bag

9pm: bonfire at the amphitheatre. set the hooligans free, leave spencer in charge

9:15pm: deliver more pizza for pantheon, make more tips

11pm: head back to the cabin for curfew, get all the hoodlums settled

11:30pm: sneak out for a walk and some peace and quiet. bribe the harpies with some girl scout cookies (they love thin mints)

12am: you should probably go to bed man

[1lizard-onemonkey]

Happy World Book Day

List of my favorites:

1. The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod by Z Brewer, a 5-book series

2. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton

3. Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

4. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

5. Exit West by Mohsin Hamid

6. Signs Preceding the End of the World by Yuri Herrera

7. Out of Africa by Karen Blixen, pen name: Isak Dinesen

8. The City of the Plague God by Sarwat Chadda, haven't read the sequel yet

Books I'm currently reading:

1. The Scorch Trials by James Dashner

2. No Beast So Fierce by Dane Hucklebridge

Books I plan to read and should read before I buy anymore:

1. The Death Cure, The Kill Order, and The Fever Code by James Dashner, sequel series and companion books not yet bought

2. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

3. The Complete Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

[bylagunabay]

Prophecy for the End time

YOU ARE LIVING THE BLOODY YEARS OF THE BATTLE …

(2-min. read)

In Message 495 in the Blue Book given by our Lady to Fr. Stefano Gobbi on 13th of 1993, she described the state of the world and of the Church today, namely: satan has set up his kingdom on Earth; the devil has led many bishops and priests, religious and faithful astray, causing much loss of faith and apostasy; a new terrible world war which will bring destruction to peoples and nations; diabolical powers have spread everywhere the error of theoretical and practical atheism; a new terrible world war is likely to erupt anytime which will bring destruction to entire nations; and and the Vatican is under the control of masonic forces.

THE BLOODY YEARS OF THE BATTLE

a “By a day-long cenacle at this venerated shrine, you, the priests and faithful of my Movement in the region of Lombardy, are today observing the anniversary of my first apparition which took place at Fatima, in the poor Cova da Iria.

b You are still in the period described by me in my apparition. Above all, you are in the heart of my message. The struggle between the Woman Clothed with the Sun and the Red Dragon has, during these years, reached its highest peak. Satan has set up his kingdom in the world. He is now ruling over you as a sure victor.

c The powers which are directing and arranging human events, according to their perverse plans, are the dark and diabolic powers of evil. They have succeeded in bringing all humanity to live without God. They have spread everywhere the error of theoretical and practical atheism. They have built the new idols before which humanity is bowing down in adoration: pleasure, money, pride, impurity, mastery over others, and impiety.

d Thus, in these years of yours, violence is spreading more and more. Egoism has made the hearts of men hard and insensitive. Hatred has blazed up like a scorching fire. Wars have multiplied in every part of the world, and you are now living in the danger of a new terrible world war which will bring destruction to peoples and nations, a war from which no one will emerge victorious.

e Satan has succeeded in entering into the Church, the new Israel of God. He has entered there with the smoke of error and sin, of the loss of faith and apostasy, of compromise with the world and the search for pleasure. During these years, he has succeeded in leading astray bishops and priests, religious and faithful.

f The forces of Masonry have entered into the Church, in a subtle and hidden way, and have set up their stronghold in the very place where the Vicar of my Son Jesus lives and works.

g You are living the bloody years of the battle, because the great trial has now arrived for all.

h There is now taking place that which is contained in the third part of my message, which has not yet been revealed to you, but which has now become evident from the events themselves through which you are now living.

i To prepare you for them, I have caused my Marian Movement of Priests to spring up in every part of the world. And thus I have chosen this littlest and poorest child of mine and have brought him everywhere, as an instrument of my motherly plan of salvation and mercy.

j By means of him, I have called you from all sides to consecrate yourselves to my Immaculate Heart; to enter, each and all, into the safe refuge which your heavenly Mother has prepared for you; to multiply the cenacles of prayer as lightning rods which protect you from the fire of the chastisement. How many of you have responded to my call with filial love and with great generosity!

k My plan is now on the point of being realized, and the task which I have entrusted to this little son of mine is about to be completed. And so today I am looking upon you with the special satisfaction of a Mother who is being consoled and exalted by you.

l I urge you to live without fear, but rather with great confidence and trust, these bloody years of the battle. From the chalice of sufferings never experienced until now, there will come forth the divine sun of a new era, of a humanity heretofore unknown, of grace and holiness, of love and justice, of joy and peace."

[strywoven]

@bonesofchaos has requested a story : "i thought you had harder bark on you than that." michael @ kaen

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Not for the first time , the godling is confronted by the misery of their existence , the t r a g e d y of it ( has it been so wrong to be human in a cruel realm ? kaen wonders , to separate themself from being an artifact of immense destruction — ) .  They r e f u s e the entity and his offering of assistance , quick to turn from hands outreaching and instead SHOVING THEIR WAY beyond him to throw themself onto the nearby couch in a bloody-beaten heap , inspecting the damage to their body , bright-burning ichor seeping out of gashes and scorching all it touches with its radiant tarnish ( lo’ how the mighty do fall ; behold , you , great flame , smothered by own mortal-making ) .  Kaen mumbles to themself , frustratedly chastising themself over how it ‘ was not enough ’ and how , ‘ it should have gone differently ’ .  Plain on their face , beyond the agitation , beyond the forced stoicism , is a sense of REMORSE & SHAME ( they have , again , failed their course ; their sire is right , they shall never stand trial , they shall never again return to power — ) .

But they must keep trying.  Even if it should kill them , they must keep trying.

At first , Michael’s words go unheeded.  Though their ears perk at his voice , at the quip he offers to lighten the tension so clearly marking the moment.  At length , the godling sighs , smoke-cinder billowing out of their busted lips and curling lazily ‘round their antlered crown.  They look over at him - a horror , to be sure , hidden away in the guise of a guardian sent here to ensure their safety ( but look what happened ) - with a tired , exasperated expression upon fauny features.  ❝ Yeah , well , Ah dun’ , ❞ They reply , ❝ Ah’m not like other Gods.  Healin’ doesnae werk th’ same fer me like it does fer ‘em.  Neither does pain. ❞  Fingers touch together , rubbing own ichor between the pads thoughtfully , a detached curiosity glinting in sapphire eyes , ❝ … Ah dunno , Ah guess it makes things more interestin’ , at least.  Dun’ worreh ‘bout it , though , Ah’ll burn up th’ wounds ; be good ‘s new in a few hours. ❞

[aircondservicesinkualalumpur]

Unlocking Comfort: Aircond Services in Kuala Lumpur

Ah, Kuala Lumpur—the vibrant heart of Malaysia, where the bustling streets meet the towering skyscrapers. Amidst the hustle and bustle of this cosmopolitan city, one thing remains constant: the need for reliable air conditioning. Whether you're a local resident or a traveler exploring the wonders of KL, finding the right aircond services is essential for staying cool and comfortable in this tropical climate. Let's dive into the world of air conditioning services in Kuala Lumpur and uncover the secrets to beating the heat.

The Essence of Air Conditioning in Kuala Lumpur

1. Embracing the Tropical Heat

Kuala Lumpur's equatorial climate brings forth its own set of challenges. With high humidity levels and temperatures that often soar above 90°F, having a functional air conditioner is not just a luxury but a necessity for survival. Imagine stepping out into the sweltering heat of the city, only to retreat into the refreshing coolness of your air-conditioned oasis—a welcome respite from the scorching sun.

2. The Pulse of Modern Living

In a city that never sleeps, comfort is paramount. From sleek high-rise apartments to bustling office complexes, air conditioning permeates every aspect of urban life in Kuala Lumpur. It's not just about staying cool—it's about creating an environment where productivity thrives, where relaxation knows no bounds, and where comfort reigns supreme.

Navigating the Aircond Service Landscape

1. Expertise at Your Fingertips

When it comes to air conditioning services, expertise is key. In Kuala Lumpur, you'll find a plethora of service providers ranging from small local businesses to large corporations. But amidst the sea of options, how do you distinguish the mediocre from the magnificent? Look for companies that boast a team of skilled technicians, armed with the knowledge and experience to tackle any air conditioning challenge with finesse.

2. Tailored Solutions for Every Need

Just as no two snowflakes are alike, no two air conditioning systems are identical. Whether you're in need of routine maintenance, emergency repairs, or a full-blown system overhaul, seek out service providers who offer customized solutions tailored to your specific requirements. After all, your comfort is not a one-size-fits-all affair—it's a personalized experience crafted to perfection.

The Art of Keeping Cool

In the realm of air conditioning services, it's not just about fixing broken units or installing new ones—it's about mastering the art of keeping cool in the face of adversity. It's about going beyond the call of duty to ensure that every breath you take is a breath of fresh, crisp air. In Kuala Lumpur, where the heat is relentless and the stakes are high, only the best of the best can withstand the fiery trials of summer.

But what sets apart the ordinary from the extraordinary?

Attention to Detail: From meticulously cleaning air filters to calibrating thermostat settings with precision, it's the little things that make all the difference in the world of air conditioning services.

Commitment to Excellence: Mediocrity has no place in Kuala Lumpur's air conditioning industry. Look for service providers who go above and beyond to deliver excellence in every aspect of their work, from customer service to technical expertise.

Innovation and Adaptability: In a rapidly evolving world, innovation is the name of the game. Seek out companies that stay ahead of the curve by embracing cutting-edge technologies and adapting to the ever-changing needs of their clients.

Conclusion: Embrace the Coolness

As you navigate the bustling streets of Kuala Lumpur, remember that comfort is not just a luxury—it's a way of life. With the right air conditioning services by your side, you can conquer the heat with ease and grace, turning every sweltering day into an opportunity for coolness and comfort. So, the next time you find yourself in need of Aircond Services in Kuala Lumpur, remember to choose wisely. After all, in the battle against the heat, only the coolest prevail.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Faithful Wife Claims Wagner Innocent of Serious Charge," Windsor Record. October 3, 1912. Page 1. --- MAN WHO COMMITTED ASSAULT ON ENGLISH GIRL WHO PLACED CONFIDENCE IN HIM SENTENCED TO FIVE YEARS' IMPRISONMENT - MISS HOLBROOK POSITIVELY IDENTIFIED HER ASAILANT. ---- Clinging desperately to the man she loves, Ivy Wagner, the attractive wife of Charles A. Wagner, who was sentenced on Thursday morning by Justice Britton to five years in Kingston Penitentiary on two serious charges, still declares him innocent though twelve good men and true declared him guilty.

Wagner leaves for the Kingston "Pen" feeling in his heart that his own dear wife still believes him true to her.

The night of June the fifth last, was dark and dreary, and Esther Holbrook, a prepossessing young English lady of seven and twenty years, was on the belt line car bound for Walkerville. Miss Holbrook was returning from Detroit to the home of Mr. William Robins, Walkerville, where she was employed as a domestic.

When she asked the street car conductor to direct her on her way, Wagner stepped up and offered to show her the route. Instead, he lured her to a lonely spot along the river front of Sandwich East and there attempted committing the outrage for which he was arrested later.

The woman's condition was for a time serious and the case awakened much interest.

The trial began when court opened on Wednesday morning and was not finished until late in the afternoon.

Many witnesses were called, including the complaining witness, members of the Walkerville police force and medical men.

After committing the crime, Wagner had gone to Detroit, but in a few days, when he learned the police were after him, he returned to Walkerville, and surrendered himself to officer Burchiel at the ferry dock.

Miss Holbrook positively identified her assailant, but there was also strong circumstantial evidence against the prisoner.

Wagner is about 35 years of age, rather rough and ugly, and has a florid countenance. He has much of the typical degenerate appearance. In the prisoner's dock he sat patiently while the evidence was being heard and wore a cynical smile. His wife, a former widow, was also in court and sat on the back benches. She was unaffected when the verdict was announced. The prisoner made no sign of emotion.

Maxfield Sheppard acted as counsel for the prisoner.

On Thursday morning, in passing sentence on Wagner, Justice Britton gave the prisoner a scorching reprimand, telling him he was a beast of prey and that this was about the worst case he had ever heard of. Wagner informed His Lordship that he was paying the penalty for another man.

Caption: WIFE CLINGS TO THIS HEARTLESS BRUTE --- CHARLES A. WAGNER. --- Who was sentenced to five years at Kingston penitentiary on two serious charges.

[Wagner is listed on his prison intake form as 39, a painter and wallpaper dresser, an American, and married. His crime is listed as 'attempted rape.' He was convict #F-473 at Kingston Penitentiary, had a 'clean' record, and was released with earned good time in 1917. Interesting how this and several other stories deployed the language of degeneracy, eugenics and Lombrosian criminology to describe convicted individuals. ]

[80sbrandis]

Your E-Bike's Sanctuary: Why Keeping it Cool Matters More Than You Think

Introduction

Hey, e-bike enthusiasts! Let's talk about the one place you definitely don't want to park your prized ride: a scorching hot garage. Your e-bike deserves some serious love, and where you store it can make a world of difference. Curious why? Buckle up as we unveil the crucial reasons behind safeguarding your wheels from that blazing garage heat.

Understanding the Heat Effect on Your E-Bike

Your e-bike is a sophisticated piece of machinery, but it's not a fan of extreme temperatures, especially the sweltering kind. Here's why it matters:

Battery Woes: High temps spell bad news for your e-bike's battery. The heat speeds up chemical reactions inside, shortening its life span and hurting its performance. Ouch.

Tire Trials: Heat messes with tire pressure, causing premature wear and tear. And that's not all – it weakens the tire compounds, putting your grip and safety at risk.

Component Chaos: From sensitive electronics to materials like plastics, excessive heat can wreak havoc, messing with efficiency and longevity.

The Hazards of a Hot Garage Hangout

Battery Bust: The scorching heat can zap the life out of your lithium-ion battery, reducing its capacity and how far your e-bike can take you. Not cool.

Mechanical Meltdown: Think plastics warping, adhesives giving way, and metal parts expanding – all due to extreme heat. It's a recipe for structural issues.

Safety Stakes: Weak components, especially tires, spell danger on the road, leading to potential accidents or breakdowns.

The A-Game Storage Strategy

Cool Digs: Keep your e-bike in a chill spot, away from blazing sunlight and extreme temperatures. Aim for a cozy 50-70°F (10-21°C).

Battery TLC: If you're storing it long-term, juice up the battery to around 50-80% and stow it separately in a cool area for a longer, healthier life.

Routine Checks: Make it a habit to inspect your e-bike regularly post-storage to ensure it's tip-top for your next joy ride.

Conclusion

Your e-bike isn't just a set of wheels; it's your ticket to freedom and adventure. And you want it running at its prime, right? So, ditch that hot garage hangout, follow these savvy storage tips, and watch your e-bike thank you with endless thrilling rides.

Remember, a little care keeps your wheels in top gear. Shield your e-bike from the heat, give it some proper storage love, and gear up for those epic journeys that await!

[onenettvchannel]

LATE-BREAKING NEWS: Accused Soup Thrower Individual pleads no contest to assault charge in Central Texas court [#OneNETnewsEXCLUSIVE]

(Prepared by Rhayniel Saldasal Calimpong & Ridley Terrance)

TEMPLE, TEXAS -- Court results revealed a final outcome as KCEN-TV’s NBC 6: Central Texas & KTEM-AM’s Newsradio 14 reports that the accused female Central Texan soup thrower individual plead no contest or "Nolo Contendere" in court last Friday (February 24th, 2023 -- Texas local time) at the Bell County Justice Center (BCJC) in Belton, Texas, United States of America (U.S.A.).

Previously from last June 2022 until the said present court date, after a series of postponements & cancellations on trial, her court case had finally been closed before the weekend, ahead of a scheduled trial Monday (February 27th, 2023), according to one presiding Texan judge named John Michael Mischtian (as attended personally from our Contributed News Reporter of OneNETnews named Ridley Terrance).

You might recall as one soup thrower caught on CCTV video and was sparked national attention in America & overseas around the globe in news outlets, after she was verbally raged in altercation at the Sol de Jalisco in 4201 South General Bruce Drive, Temple, Texas, U.S.A last mid-November 2021 because of the issue of spicy hot Menudo soup scorch its covered lid. The aforesaid Mexican restaurant imposed a state-wide ban all across America, after she was complaining about the way her food had been wrongfully packaged the first time and was thrown in the face infront of the female cashier's employee. Martinez fled the restaurant but was quickly taken into custody and charged with an assault causing bodily injury of Class A misdemeanor, per Baylee Bates reports from NBC 6 News.

Michael F. White, a Texan Defense Attorney theoretically leads an attempted murder case, in connection of a soup thrower but... it was completely false to happen as of our writing. Bell County Assistant Attorney named Richard James Lazott told one local newspaper Temple Daily Telegram (per exclusive interview), her plea bargain refused to accept the offer, and must be finalized infront of a presiding judge and the jury for the approval: "I cannot discuss the plea bargain offer. However, I can tell you... it was a probation with some conditions that was turned down", he said.

The prosecutor in Martinez's case was sentenced to 15 months of deferred probation, 6 days of work-release jail time until Thursday (March 2nd, 2023) and a U$D800 (PHP44,040) fine. The no-contest plea meant Martinez admitted she would have been found guilty, if a trial had taken place within the same day in court.

Martinez was scheduled to appear infront of a jury, facing a violation of Title #5: Section 22.1-a1 or the Texas Penal Code, with a single misdemeanor charge of assault causing bodily injury, and was fully sentenced behind bars for one (1) full year until 2024 or later, and a U$D4,000 (PHP220,200) fine. During her crime penalty period, anger management and counseling services may be included if requested later than necessarily needed.

Sol de Jalisco has its strict standards to serve customers, and must do with a better food & service, rather than one accused soup thrower incident. Martinez's damage has now been concluded with an utterly bad end of her own life. Still, her lone restaurant visit of a Mexican restaurant will no longer serve a spicy hot Menudo soup in jail.

PHOTO COURTESY for REPRESENTATION: Texas Time Travel BACKGROUND PROVIDED BY: Tegna

SPECIAL THANKS to KTEM Newsradio 14 & KCEN-TV's NBC 6: Central Texas for contributing this exclusive news report.

SOURCE: *https://www.bellcountytx.com/county_government/county_courts/court_at_law_2/index.php *https://www.bellcountytx.com/county_government/county_courts/court_at_law_2/directions.php *https://www.kcentv.com/article/news/local/bell-county/business-picks-up-after-soup-throw-down/500-34996042-82a8-473a-8380-cf3cf42a1d4a [Referenced News Article #1 from KCEN-TV’s NBC 6] *https://www.kcentv.com/article/news/crime/accused-temple-soup-thrower-pleads-guilty-after-rejecting-plea-deal/500-b9fc8369-ac9a-4f62-adaf-b6d4f64e6254 [Referenced News Article #2f from KCEN-TV’s NBC 6] *https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7YwFvCcC1Q [Referenced YT Video from KCENNews - Business picks up after soup throw down] *https://ktemnews.com/ixp/514/p/temple-texas-soup-thrower-no-contest/ [Referenced News Article from KTEM Newsradio 14] *https://www.kcentv.com/article/about-us/team-bios/baylee-bates/500-a8842d9b-b099-4006-ae0e-7f499944cc11 [Referenced Biography from KCEN-TV’s NBC 6] *https://www.tdtnews.com/news/central_texas_news/article_83990de8-4415-11ec-b11a-db5705820d02.html [Referenced News Article #1 from the Temple Daily Telegram] *https://www.tdtnews.com/news/central_texas_news/article_24ff9a6a-47c9-11ec-9746-ff767cfc4ce8.html [Referenced News Article #2 from the Temple Daily Telegram] *https://www.tdtnews.com/news/central_texas_news/article_affd8b94-b4ac-11ed-87ff-cba7ef865e3e.html [Referenced News Article #3f from the Temple Daily Telegram] *https://statutes.capitol.texas.gov/Docs/PE/htm/PE.22.htm [Referenced Law Guide from the Texas Government] *https://card.txcourts.gov/ajrdata.aspx?ct=54&st=1613&ajr=3 [Referenced Name Directory from The Texas Office of Court Administration] *https://www.texastrialwarrior.com/about-us/michael-f-white/ [Referenced Biography from the Texas Trial Warrior] and *https://www.lawyer.com/richard-lazott.html [Referenced Biography from the Lawyer website]

-- OneNETnews Team

[arcsimper5]

Yaim'ol - Chapter 2

yaim'ol - [yai-MOHL] - return, homecoming

Pairing: Sev x F!Jedi OC, Scorch x F!Jedi OC Characters: Delta Squad (Republic Commando), F!Jedi OC Cin Rating: M - Explicit content in later chapters Warnings: Gore, Canon-typical violence, angst, smut (later chapters), descriptions of injury, force osik.

Following on from the end of Republic Commando, Sev and Cin must make their way through the galaxy, overcoming trials and tests in a bid to keep themselves alive long enough to reunite with their squad.

Chapter 2 - Orders

“Execute Order 66.”

The words repeated in Sev’s head, over and over. Whether it was the comms or if it had just been ingrained, he wasn’t sure.

What he was sure of, was that Cindar Kivye was a traitor to the Republic. The woman he’d shared his missions with, his body with, his life with, was to be killed.

And he was the only one left to do it.

He’d noticed the moment she smuggled onboard the small transport vessel, somehow managing to slip past the Geonosians and the Trandoshians who were taking him down to Kashykk’s surface, settling into a dark corner and waiting.

The utter grace and beauty she had exuded as she’d cut down each and every one of those disgusting creatures had made his heart race, heart pumping by the time she was finished, covered in guts and gore and blood.

As soon as she’d released his binders, he’d ripped his helmet off and been on her, crashing their lips together, catching her by surprise.

“Disobeying orders to come get me, ner kat’ra?” he teased between their brutal meeting of mouths, “naughty girl.”

“Like I’d ever leave you behind,” she teased softly, leaning up to nip at his bottom lip. They simply stared at each other for a moment, tension hanging in the air before she cleared her throat and extricated herself from Sev’s grasp, moving to the control panel.

“Damn, they’ve locked in the course,” she murmured as Sev composed himself and pulled his helmet back on, joining her at her side, looking over the foreign controls.

“You understand that mess?” he huffed, trying to make any sense of the odd characters there.

“Jedi training. We have to at least know the alphabets of most sentient species,” she shrugged, blushing when Sev leant in closer, knowing he was smirking under his bucket.

“Have I ever told you how hot you are when you’re smart?”

“A lot,” she chuckled, wincing and drawing in a sharp breath as she leaned closer to him.

“Cyare?” 

Sev was on her immediately, gloved hands smoothing down her back. “You hurt?”

She shook her head, ignoring the pointed stare he gave her through his helmet.

“Only a scratch,” she waved him off, “I’ll live.”

Sev growled lightly in displeasure, moving to her other side, frowning when he saw blood seeping down her leg, soaking her trousers just above her boots.

“You’re bleeding,” he pointed out sharply, reaching for the small medkit attached to his belt. Knowing it was useless to argue, she simply shrugged, concentrating on trying to decipher the symbols.

As he worked, Sev’s hands were gentle and strong, a sigh leaving her at the feeling.

“The others get out okay?” he asked lowly, a note of fear registering in his tone.

“Yeah, evac went fine. They were pissed though,” she admitted, eyes darting across the holoscreen in front of her as she tried to disengage the course that had been set. “They wanted to come back, but…”

“Mission comes first,” Sev nodded before falling back into silence for a moment, working carefully as he applied bacta and covered Cin’s wound. “Why did you stay?”

The question caught her by surprise, her eyes widening a little as Sev stood back up and met her gaze through his visor.

“I promised,” she murmured, pointedly ignoring him, “after the Prosecutor. And I wasn’t about to go back on it.”

Sev hummed quietly for a moment, letting out a chuckle.

“Jedi are gonna be pissed.”

“Let them be. I don’t care. We don’t leave people behind.”

Sev stared at her for a moment, knowing she could feel the intensity of his gaze even through the bucket, smiling fondly while she continued to work.

“Mesh’la,” he called, raising a hand to her face carefully, running the back of his knuckles down her cheek. A single tear followed it, his stomach clenching.

“I wasn’t going to lose you again,” she breathed, closing her eyes. She leant into his touch, taking a breath as if to speak again when an alarm blared loudly, making them both jump. “Karking hells, what now?”

Within seconds a hologram of a trandoshan flickered to life on the console, it’s yellow eyes sharp, teeth bared.

“Filthy clone and filthy Jedi,” it hissed at them, Sev growling in response. “Take our ship, kill my brothers. You will pay!”

Before either of them could respond, a massive explosion rocked the ship, sending them both hurtling over the console. Landing sprawled on the floor between the console and the viewport, Cin scrambled for purchase on the durasteel floor.

“Cin!”

Sev was screaming for her as the windows turned red, the vast expanse of Kashykk below masked by the glow of re-entry. They were going down.

“I’m here!” she yelled back, looking around frantically. Her tightly plaited hair was loosening now, framing her face as she tried to crawl towards him, yelping as the ship tumbled and turned, through the atmosphere and now hurtling towards the ground. “We need to stabilise the ship!”

“No time!” Sev grunted, bracing himself on the console and launching himself towards her, managing to catch her around her waist. With an inhuman amount of strength, he pulled them both towards the rear of the ship, to the storage compartment. Forcing the doors apart, he pushed her inside and made to follow, only for the ship to lurch violently again, sending him flying backwards.

As the doors slid closed once more, encasing her in the thick walls within, she screamed his name, reaching out with the Force.

“Sev! Please! Come back!”

Only silence answered her, soon smothered by the grinding of metal and electrical screams as the ship plunged through the thick tree canopy and into the ground.