#my feelings on this are so strong i feel like i have to keep working with teenagers in some way in my life

[sugoroo]

TRADING CARDS!

summary: in which toji’s in need of some cash, and you’re in need of having your cherry popped! he’ll take your v card if you lend him your credit card. simple, right?

warnings: fem!reader, penetration (p in v), breast play, tummy bulge, squirting, loss of virginity (reader), fingering, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader just finished college), tojis a bit of a perv, 18+ minors dni.

wc: 7.2k

"hey, doll?" toji grunts as he pokes his head into your room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he shoots you a slightly apologetic grin. "i'm gonna need ya to cover my half of the rent again this month."

you look up from your phone, your lips pulling down into a small frown at his words. this isn't the first time this has happened, and it certainly won't be the last, either. "seriously, toji?"

toji simply gives you a noncommittal shrug in response, turning the pockets of his sweatpants inside out as if to further prove his point — there wasn't a single cent in sight. "i ain't got nothin', sweets. hardly been able to buy food these last few days."

you roll your eyes, letting out a soft huff at his not-so-subtle attempt to make you feel bad for him (which almost always worked, and he knew it.) "fine. but you better come through next month. i can't keep covering you."

he lets out a sigh of relief, reaching out to ruffle your hair with one his large hands. "yeah yeah, i'll pay up next time. promise." he was lying through his teeth, and you both knew it. but you chose not to comment on it — maybe a small part of you wanted to keep toji as your roommate, even if you had to pay his rent half the time.

toji heads back out into the living room to lazily slump across the couch, leaving you to your own thoughts.

it was really starting to grate on your nerves how much you had to support him. he's a fully grown man, and you're a young girl fresh out of college. and yet, somehow, you ended up being the one paying his bills with the leftover money from your summer job.

and maybe it wouldn't bother you so much, if you weren't so constantly pent up.

college was supposed to be your time to shine, where you'd attend countless parties and have meaningless hookups with guys in bathrooms, just like all the movies you watched when you were younger.

but it wasn't really like that. and as much as you loathe to admit it, you're still a virgin. with only your own feeble fingers to keep you company, you can probably count on one hand the amount of orgasms you've had in your life.

and that's when you have an idea.

it's just like trading cards — toji takes your v card, and in return, you lend him your credit card.

it's shameless, and you might've felt embarrassed with yourself for even coming up with it if you weren't in dire need of releasing some tension.

and if toji's as desperate for money as he makes out like he is, maybe he wouldn't mind agreeing to your little proposition.

the only catch in your genius idea is that you actually have to ask toji about it.

you've been lingering outside his bedroom door for what feels like hours, trying to figure out how to actually phrase your proposal without making a complete fool of yourself.

but just as you timidly raise a fist to knock, the door swings open, and toji walks right into you, causing you to collide face first with his toned chest. you barely register the two strong hands that rest over your shoulders to steady you, your mind suddenly laser focused on the way your cheek is squished between his pecs.

"oops. sorry, doll," toji chuckles heartily, moving one of his hands from your shoulder to gently grasp your hair and pull your now noticeably flushed face away from his chest. "didn't see ya there."

"n-no, it's my fault." you manage to stammer out, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain your composure. shit, you hadn't even asked him yet, and you were already a mess.

he raises a thick eyebrow at your skittish demeanour, his hand leaving your hair to teasingly poke at one of your adorably pink cheeks. "aww, what's this? you blushin'?"

you try and shoot him a glare, but it looks more like a pout than anything else as you meekly swat his hand away from your face. "shut up, toji. you're the one who walked right into me."

he lets out a deep, amused chortle at this, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at you with a lazy smirk. "right. and you're the one who was lingering outside my door like a creeper."

you let out an embarrassed huff at his rebuttal, knowing there's no way to deny it now. you take another deep breath, idly wringing your hands as you crane your neck to look up at him. "yeah. about that. i, um, i wanted to ask you something."

toji cocks his head to the side, his expression turning mildly curious. "oh? what could you possibly want to ask this old man, hm?" he grunts, your little nervous fidgets not going unnoticed by him.

"w-well, i, um..." you begin, your features twisting up into a grimace as you struggle to get the words out. damn it, you were already cursing your past self for thinking this was a good idea. "i have a proposition for you."

this seems to pique the dark-haired man's interest, and he straightens his back slightly, reaching up with a large hand to scratch his chin. "what kind of proposition are we talkin', sweets?"

you swallow thickly at the way he puts such emphasis on the word proposition, as if he already knows exactly what you're thinking. but of course he doesn't — how could he?

"the kind of proposition where i lend you my credit card to help with your little... money problem," you begin, fighting to keep your voice as steady as possible. "and in return, you..."

toji's eyebrows raise even higher at your words, and he lets out a grunt of irritation when you trail off at the end of your sentence. "in return i what? use your words, doll."

"and in return, you..." you repeat quietly, your voice becoming consistently quieter until the last few words come out as a mere whisper. "help me lose my virginity."

the silence that follows your words is absolutely deafening, the only noise being the faint sounds of cars passing by the road outside the apartment.

you immediately start thinking of ways to salvage the situation, maybe just laugh it off and say it was a prank or something. it's a flimsy excuse, but it's better than this painful silence.

just as you open your mouth in an attempt to backtrack, toji grasps your chin in one large hand, effectively shutting you up with the movement. "you're a damn virgin?" he rasps out, turning your flushed face from side to side as if examining it would help him find the answer.

"u-uh, yeah," you mutter sheepishly, shrinking in on yourself slightly under the sudden intensity of his gaze. "why do you sound so surprised?"

toji barks out an almost incredulous laugh, as if you were utterly ridiculous for even asking such a thing. "seriously?" he huffs, shaking his head. "you're a fine little thing. figured ya would've had guys linin' up around the block for ya at college."

your eyes widen almost comically at his words, your mouth opening and closing a few times as you try to form a coherent response. you never expected your considerably older, rough around the edges roommate to actually find you attractive. "i-is that a yes, then?"

he scoffs loudly at this, repeating your words back to you in a mocking tone. "how the hell do ya expect me to say no to that?" he mutters, the pad of his thumb skimming across your jaw. "i've done worse deals for a whole lot less."

you let out a long sigh of relief, some of the tension leaving your shoulders at his agreement. the hardest part was out the way — you'd managed to get him on board.

"hey." toji grunts, his hand on your chin squeezing hard enough to get your attention as he angles it higher, tearing you from your thoughts. "look at me when we're talkin', girl."

your eyes widen even further at his sudden commanding tone, your thighs instinctively pressing together slightly beneath your skirt. the reaction doesn't go unnoticed by toji, but he doesn't comment on it, simply filing the information away for later.

"ya sure this is what y'want, sweets?" toji asks, his voice barely above a low mutter as he leans his head down closer to your level, his hot breaths just barely puffing across your face as he seemingly searches for any signs of hesitance. "once it's done there ain't no goin' back."

"i... i know." you gulp, vaguely aware of the way his dark eyes follow the gentle bobbing of your throat. "i wouldn't have asked if i didn't want this."

he hums, appearing satisfied with your answer. his thumb moves from your jaw to the plump skin of your lower lip, pulling it down slightly before letting it snap back into place. "how long do i get ya credit card for?"

"how long?" you repeat, blinking a few times. you hadn't even thought about that. and it was becoming quite hard to focus with the way he was toying with your lip. "um... twenty four hours."

toji grunts in acknowledgement, but his lips start to spread into a mischievous grin, and you can tell he's not going to make this easy for you. "nah. forty eight."

you let out an indignant huff, your eyes narrowing at the audacity of this man. two whole days? he was probably planning on bankrupting you at this rate. "thirty six." you counter.

he lets out a hearty laugh, his chest visibly rumbling with amusement at your haggling. his thumb traces over your lip again, causing you to let out a shuddering breath. "mm. ya got y'erself a deal there, dollface."

"good." you mutter, reaching out a hand towards him in a gesture of sealing the deal. toji takes it, his large hand entirely enveloping yours as he gives it a brisk shake.

before you can even think of saying anything else, toji uses his grip on your hand to tug you closer to his chest, your face almost colliding with his torso again.

"i'm assumin' you've atleast kissed before?" toji muses, this thumb still tracing the contour of your lips as if that would answer his question.

you let out a small, embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you find yourself avoiding his gaze again. "yeah, i have."

toji tuts, yanking your chin back up again, more forcibly this time. "jesus, girl. what did i say about keeping your eyes on me?" he grumbles. "and whatcha laughin' for? i say somethin' funny?"

"sorry." you huff, your lips pushing out into an involuntary pout. "i'm not laughing because of you. it was just a really... bad kiss."

he hums in response, tilting his head to the side as his grin morphs into a small smirk. "damn. a virgin and you've never even had a good kiss. i got my work cut out for me here."

you try and shoot him another glare, a huff of exasperation leaving your lips. "no need to rub it in, toji. i'm paying you for this, remember?"

toji barks out an amused chuckle, shaking his head at your little attempts to try and look stern. cute. "yeah yeah, i know ya are. and don't worry, ya won't regret it."

you're about to open your mouth to retort, but before a single syllable can leave your mouth, toji's lips are on yours. they're rough and slightly chapped as they brush over your own, just the texture you would've expected them to be if you had to guess.

it's not a rough kiss, but it's not exactly gentle either. it's somewhere in the middle, somewhere that makes you think even the way toji kisses is just so... toji.

he pulls away after a few moments, letting out a soft huff of laughter at your dazed expression. "you still in there, sweets?" he hums, flicking his thumb against your forehead.

you can feel the way your cheeks flush darker at his taunting words, silently cursing yourself for getting so worked up over a simple kiss. damn it, it was so obvious just how touch starved you were. how were you going to make it through this?

"i'm still here." you grumble under your breath, causing toji to chuckle even harder. "and if you're just gonna keep laughing at me, maybe i'll go ask someone else to help me."

toji's chuckle turns into a bark of laughter, and his lips curve up into a smug grin as he flicks your forehead again. "no can do. we already shook on it. handshake's sacred, dollface. dontcha know?"

"ugh. you just made that—" you attempt to argue, but he shuts you up by pressing his lips back onto yours again, slightly rougher this time. you let out a sound of surprise against his mouth when his scar brushes against your skin, but slowly, you start to reciprocate the gesture.

he lets out a satisfied hum, starting to take a few steps backwards through the doorway of his room, his lips still moving against yours all the way.

you angle your face up to unknowingly chase after his lips when he pulls away, and you have to swallow down the embarrassing sound that threatens to escape you when you realize what you're doing.

toji snorts, shutting the door behind the two of you with a stupidly self-satisfied smirk stretching across his lips. "that attached to me already, huh? we only just started."

"i'm not attached." you scoff meekly, though your actions severely contradict your words as you lean up on your tiptoes in the search of another kiss.

"mhm. whatever y'say, girl." he mutters amusedly, his hand snaking under your chin again to help you reach his mouth. he meets you halfway, his kisses growing slowly more insistent as his tongue flickers out to swipe over your lower lip.

a soft gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle asking for entrance into your mouth, but you comply, parting your lips to allow the intrusion.

he lets out a satisfied grunt, his tongue darting every which way as it expertly explores the warm cavern of your mouth. you just stand there, completely stock still, for a long few seconds before your own tongue starts to meekly lick against his.

"yeah, there we go," toji mutters into your mouth, his thick tongue easily enveloping yours as he rolls them together. he's so effortless with it, like this is second nature for him — you suppose it probably is. you're not oblivious to the amount of hookups he brings back to the apartment when he thinks you're asleep.

toji pulls back from your mouth with a lewd pop! once he registers that you need some air, observing the way your chest rapidly rises and falls like you can't get enough oxygen with silent amusement.

he's going to have such fun pulling more of these pretty reactions from you.

while you're still desperately trying to catch your breath, he slides both of his rough, calloused palms under the fabric of your shirt, his hands leaving a tingling trail of heat across your skin.

"wait—" you begin to protest, but whatever you were going to say trails off once you feel his fingers brush against the underside of your breasts.

he lets out a grunt of surprise, raising his bushy eyebrows. "no bra, doll?" toji scoffs, shaking his head. "you were ready for this, weren't ya?

your cheeks flood with embarrassment for the nth time this evening, and you feel the sudden urge to just shove his hands away and go back to your room to get yourself off with your feeble fingers. but you don't.

toji lets out yet another snort of laughter at your reaction, rolling his eyes. "i ain't sayin' it's a bad thing, girl," he mumbles, moving his hands to cup each of your breasts in his wide palms. "makes things easier for me. i like it."

you let out a small huff of relief at his sort-of-creepy reassurance, unable to fight the way your body instinctively leans into his touch, pressing your chest into his hands slightly.

he hums, removing his hands only to push your shirt up to get a look at your bare breasts, the fabric bunching up around your collarbone as he leans in closer to inspect your assets.

"toji!" you gasp in complaint, trying to push down the instinct to cover yourself up from your roommate's intense gaze. but when your hands fly up to guard your chest, he instantly grabs your wrists, making you freeze.

"ah ah," he chides with a smug smirk, easily moving both of your wrists into one hand while the other reaches out to fondle your breasts. "no need to be shy. ya got a nice pair of juicy tits right here."

his compliment is so lewd, and even with the way you attempt to wriggle your wrists free from his grip, he effortlessly keeps them trapped with one strong hand.

toji squeezes and kneads the supple flesh of your breasts, laving both with equal attention as he feels up every inch of skin available to him. he can't believe his little roommate has been hiding these pretty tits from him all this time.

when he leans down to pop one into his mouth, you let out a strangled gasp which quickly morphs into an almost pornographic moan when he starts to gently suckle at your highly sensitive nipple.

"shit." you manage to push out, your breaths becoming increasingly more erratic as he starts to flick his rough tongue over your perked bud. you can feel rather than hear the raspy chuckle he lets out at your reaction.

"so damn sensitive," toji rumbles as he pulls back from your breast, which is now shiny and slick with his salvia, before moving to the other. "y'like that, huh?"

it takes you a few moments to form a coherent response, your mind suddenly feeling unable to focus on anything other than the way he's practically making out with your chest. "y-yeah."

toji's smirk widens in a grin at your stammered words, clearly finding enjoyment in the way your body is reacting to his every touch. "bet ya do. poor thing, graduated college and still never been properly touched."

you let out an indignant huff, annoyance momentarily taking over your pleasure. damn it, why did he always have to mock you at any given opportunity? you're starting to wish you never told him about your virginity.

he snorts again at your huff, removing his mouth from your breast with a long, stringy trail of salvia connecting his lips to your chest. "whatcha huffin' for, girl? thought ya wanted this."

you shoot him another one of your trying-to-be-stern-but-really-just-pouting glares. "i do want this. but i also want you to stop laughing at me the entire time."

he rolls his eyes dramatically, acting as if not laughing at your expense was the most difficult thing he'd been asked to do today. "i'm not laughin' at you, dollface. i'm laughin' at those stupid ass college boys who missed out on having you like this."

before you can even begin to process his words, toji crowds you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you instinctively plop down onto the mattress, looking up at him with wide eyes.

he snickers at your shocked expression, moving forward to stand between your legs. from this position, he towers over you even more than usual, and you have to crane your neck practically all the way back to meet his eyes.

"why so surprised, hmm?" toji drawls, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear in an uncharacteristically gentle touch. "y'think i didn't notice how pretty ya were the first damn day ya moved in?"

you open and close your mouth a few times before managing to pull yourself together enough to speak. "honestly? i kinda figured you didn't pay me much attention — considering how many hookups you bring around here."

he hums in response, moving his hand to grasp your chin and force you to maintain eye contact with him. "so you noticed that, huh?" he grunts, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "they're just distractions, really. i've wanted you for a while, but i assumed ya wouldn't be interested in and old man like me."

you can only raise an eyebrow incredulously at his words, as if he'd just said something ridiculous. "toji, you're so dramatic. you're not that old."

he barks out a loud laugh at this, slowly lowering himself to his knees between your legs. the audible sound of his muscles protesting the movement seems to disprove your words, making you wince. "no need to flatter me, sweets. i know 'm old." he mutters, his smirk still firmly in place.

you open your mouth to argue, but quickly forget whatever you were about to say when toji's large palms start to trail up your thighs, stopping just below the edge of your skirt.

"ya got no panties on too?" he asks teasingly, although you can hear the faint sense of actual curiosity in his tone. however, when his fingers graze against the edge of your lace panties, he huffs. "hmph. you disappoint me."

you roll your eyes at his words. you would've gone pantyless too, but unfortunately the prospect of finally losing your virginity made you so wet that you had to wear them to prevent yourself from dripping on the floor of the apartment.

"you've touched yourself before, i take it?" toji grunts as his hand moves to easily cup your clothed pussy in his palm, his smirk becoming a grin again when he feels how damp the material is.

you suck in a sharp breath, your eyes fluttering in pleasure at the feel of someone else's hand except your own touching your most sensitive area. "y-yeah, i have. but it's..."

toji seems to understand why you trailed off, letting out a hum of acknowledgement as his fingers start to rub little circles against your panties. "but your little fingers can't make you cum right, yeah?"

you can only manage a feeble nod, fighting the urge to start grinding yourself into his hand. he chuckles amusedly at your reaction, his fingers just dipping under the edge of your panties but not quite.

if you were one of his usual hookups, he'd probably be balls deep inside you by now. but you're not — you're his pretty little roommate he's had his eye on for a while, and on top of that, you're a virgin.

he's going to take his sweet time with you.

toji spends what feels like an eternity teasing you through your underwear until you're squirming restless on the edge of his bed before he finally, finally makes direct contact with your pussy.

"shit," he grunts as he swipes his finger through your sopping folds, the digit practically slipping across your slick skin. "you're so damn wet, baby. i've hardly even touched you yet."

you can't stop the pathetic whine that escapes your throat, your cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink and your eyes half-lidded with need as you look down at him. "please, toji."

fucking hell. he actually has to restrain himself from just pouncing on you right there and then when you beg him so sweetly. instead, he lets out a raspy chuckle, his finger moving down to lazily circle your dripping entrance. "please what, girl? use your words."

"please..." you say again, your voice breathless as you wriggle your hips slightly underneath his hand. "touch me properly."

toji snorts at your phrasing, shaking his head. but before another retort can leave his lips, he's rendered speechless for a moment when he slides a finger into your entrance, your gummy walls instantly sucking him in.

"jesus," he mutters hoarsely, yanking your panties to the side with his other hand to get an unobstructed view of the way your little pussy flutters around his finger. "what a pretty fuckin' cunt."

you let out what can only be described as a mewl at his words, and the noise sounds foreign to your own ears. god, what is he doing to you?

he groans low in his throat at the sound you make, moving his finger around inside of you as gently as he can and brushing the thick digit against your spongy walls.

it should be illegal, really, how quickly toji manages to find your sweet spot. he's had a single finger inside your pussy for just under a minute, and the calloused pad of his digit is already grazing your sensitive g spot.

"ah!" you practically sob, your thighs instinctively clenching around his beefy arm. you've never felt such an intense spark of pleasure before — it's obvious you never managed to find that spot before when you attempted to get yourself off.

he grins smugly, brushing his finger over the spot again, almost touching it but not quite enough to properly stimulate you. "that's the spot, ain't it, dollface?" the question is rhetorical. you both know that's the spot.

but before you can start grinding yourself down onto his finger, he abruptly pulls it out, admiring the way the digit is now coated in your shiny slick.

you open your mouth to protest, or beg for more, or something, but all rational thoughts leave your mind when you see toji slip his finger into his mouth, sucking your juices from it with a low grunt.

"damn, that's good," he mutters gruffly, almost to himself, as he slides it out of his mouth with a lewd pop! — his eyes then fall back on your glistening pussy, his pupils dilated considerably more than before.

in a matter of moments, toji's slid your ruined panties down your legs, admiring the sticky mess soiled there before shamelessly shoving them in his pocket of his sweatpants.

"hey!—" you huff half-heartedly, but before you can even think of finishing the sentence, toji's chapped lips are placing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs.

"mmph," you moan softly, not bothering to protest as he slides your thighs further apart with his palms, his lips nibbling against the supple skin of your inner thighs, undoubtably leaving small marks that will bloom tomorrow.

"wanna eat you," toji murmurs once he's face to face with your pussy, his hot breaths puffing across your sensitive skin and visibly making your little clit twitch impatiently. "can i eat you, dollface?"

you crease your eyebrows a little in confusion at his request. from what you'd heard from your college friends, guys hated performing oral for girls. but the way toji was staring hungrily at your cunt, his tongue swiping across his dry lips, made you think he would simply laugh at you again if you told him that.

"o-okay," you mutter sheepishly. and the second the agreement leaves your lips, toji's burying his entire face against your heat, groaning into your pussy as he rubs his sharp nose up and down your sopping folds.

when he first slides his rough tongue across your sensitive skin, you swear you go cross-eyed for a full moment before regaining control of yourself. it's like nothing you've ever felt before, wet and warm and so deliciously lewd.

"fuckin' sweeter than candy," toji grunts against your skin, the vibrations causing your body to instinctively attempt to wriggle away. but he's not having it, his beefy arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you in place. "ah ah, no runnin', baby."

while before you might've tried to argue a little in protest, your brain has already turned to mush from just his finger and his tongue, so you can only let out a few unintelligible murmurs.

"yeahhh," he snorts as he continues to sloppily lap at your folds, gathering as much of your syrupy slick on his tastebuds as possible. "don't hear none of that backtalk now."

god, he's so messy with it. you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open to gaze at him, but when you do, it only makes your pleasure heighten to new levels.

you've never seen your roommate so focused on anything before — not even those storage wars shows he likes to shout at on the tv. his eyes are half-lidded, his thick fingers are digging into your thighs so hard you can visibly see the marks forming, and his tongue is ruthless as it delves in and out of your dripping hole.

"t-toji, shit. feels so good," you manage to stammer out, your head thrown back and your hands traveling up to tangle in his messy dark hair without thinking, tugging on it gently.

your action draws a raspy chuckle from low in toji's throat, and his sloppy, shameless tongue seems to speed up even more in response. you vaguely register a glob of saliva landing on your pussy, but just as quick as it falls there, he's already licking it back up. "c'mon, girl, i know you can pull harder than that."

you attempt to tug his dishevelled strands harder, but your hands feel weak, and your thighs are starting to shake slightly around his head. you notice a familiar spring coiling in the depths of your stomach, but it feels more intense than any build-up to an orgasm you've given yourself before.

"t-think i'm close." you gasp out, your mouth hanging open as you try and keep your body from collapsing back against the mattress. he's quick to help, his hands sliding up the back of your skirt to support your back.

toji hums in satisfaction, a shit-eating (or, in this case, a pussy-eating) grin spreading across his lips as he continues to devour you, his tongue repeatedly massaging your g spot.

it feels like he's trying to eat you whole, and it's completely overwhelming in the best way possible.

"yeah?" he mutters against your cunt, wrapping his lips around your puffy, swollen clit and sucking the sensitive bud harshly. "go on then, baby. cum for me."

it feels like a part of you was instinctively waiting for his permission, because the second those words leave his mouth, your entire body starts convulsing in his strong arms, a strangled cry leaving your open mouth as you orgasm.

your earlier suspicion was right, because this is the hardest you've ever cum before in your entire life. (not that there's really much competition). your limbs feel all tingly and airy, and there aren't really many thoughts left in your mind except from toji, toji, toji.

"hmmph," toji grumbles, pulling back from your cunt after he's sure every bit of your sweet release is down his throat. he looks up at you, snickering gruffly at the utterly dumb look across your features.

you look completely fucked out already, and he hasn't even fucked you yet. that's what happens when you make a deal with a virgin, he assumes.

while you attempt to come down from your high, toji shifts slightly, his knees aching slightly from spending so long on the floor. but even worse than that, is the raging erection he has straining against the material of his sweatpants.

it's been there since he started kissing you, and it's only gotten progressively worse as the time stretched on. he's so hard now that it actually hurts, and the small stain of pre-cum darkening the front makes him feel like a damn teenager again.

toji gets to his feet, ignoring the way his stiff muscles protest, and sheds his sweats and his boxers in one swift movement, kicking them somewhere across the room. he makes his way between your legs, spreading them even further apart to make room for his body.

"wait..." you mumble dazedly, your words adorably slurred as you blink lazily up at him, reaching out a hand as if silently asking for something. "don't y'want me to return the favour first?"

he snorts, although it makes something inside him warm the slightest bit at your consideration. "nah, dollface. you're paying me, not the other way 'round, yeah?"

your pouty expression from earlier returns, but before you can argue further, your eyes fall on his cock, which you only just notice is free from his sweatpants. it's bigger than any you've seen videos of online before, with a prominent vein running down the length and pearly rivulets of pre-cum leaking from the pudgy tip.

your mouth falls into a small 'o' shape, a sudden sense of dread filling you at the mere thought of trying to take that inside of you. why did you have to make this deal with someone who has such an unnecessarily large dick?

toji chuckles deeply at your reaction, cocking his head to the side with a smug smirk. "what? don't tell me you're g'nna chicken out on me now, sweets?"

you could just smooth down your skirt, hand him your credit card as payment for what he's done for you already, and walk right out of his room the way you came in.

but you don't. you've come too far already to back out now — you're this close to finally losing your virginity.

"no," you murmur meekly, swallowing thickly and tearing your eyes away from his cock and meeting his eyes again. "i don't wanna stop. it's just... is that thing really gonna fit in me?"

he barks out an amused laugh at this, his rough palms on your thighs squeezing in what's probably his way of giving you a reassuring gesture. "it'll fit, baby. i loosened you up a little already, so that'll help."

"okay," you mutter, your eyes flickering back down as he wraps a large hand around the meaty base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance and rubbing it along your puffy folds, gathering some of your creamy slick on the head. "is it gonna hurt? it's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

toji huffs at your hurried rambling, leaning his head down to shut you up with a quick kiss to your lips. "it'll only hurt at the start," he grunts in as soothing a tone as he can muster, bracing a hand against the headboard above you.

this seems to ease your nerves, if only a little, and you nod in a sign of silent permission. but he doesn't appear satisfied with this, and he grasps your chin with his free hand. "that ain't good enough, dollface. use your words f'me."

"y-you can start now." you murmur in response, your eyes glued to the way the muscles in his arm flex above you as he begins to slowly push himself in.

"fuckin' shit," he groans, the sound more guttural than anything he's let out so far as his cock breaches the first ring of muscle inside of you, his beefy arm visibly shaking as he tries to hold himself back from just plunging all the way in. "so damn tight in here."

your face contorts into a grimace as a rush of pain pangs through your body, your hands clutching at the sheets for purchase. you'd heard about it hurting online, but then again, most people didn't take a cock as big as toji's for their first time.

"sorry, babydoll." he mutters hoarsely, his gruff tone holding an underlying tone of genuine sympathy instead of the amusement he's shown so far — he's clearly aware of the strain he's having on your body.

he gives you a few moments to adjust to the intrusion, gritting his teeth to hold back any sounds that threaten to spill out of his mouth when he feels your cunt clenching and unclenching around him.

"you can keep going now," you manage to say, your eyes screwed shut and your hands fisted in the bedcovers as you try to deal with the pain. "i'm okay."

he grunts in response, the hand that was around your chin moving to grasp one of your balled up hands as he continues to sink himself inside inch by inch. he can feel how hard you squeeze his hand the entire time, probably cutting off the circulation to his arm in the process.

but he couldn't care less about that. not when he so close to finally being balls deep inside of his pretty little roommate.

"biiiig stretch." toji hums, a low, drawn out sound, when he finally feels himself bottom out, your spongy walls contracting and fluttering around him as if they can't decide whether to push the intrusion out or pull it in deeper. "there we go."

you, on the other hand, couldn't manage to string together a single syllable. it feels like toji has buried himself into your guts, like he's physically rearranging your anatomy right before your eyes.

toji lets his own eyes flutter shut for a moment, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. he knows you need a while to adjust to taking all of him, but damn if he doesn't want to pound you into the mattress right now.

you let out a strangled groan, wriggling around against the covers as your body stretches to accommodate his sheer size. it feels like he could split you in half without much effort. "p-please... start moving, toji."

"you sure?" he rasps gruffly, his hand gripping the headboard so hard his knuckles have gone completely white. "once i start i prolly won't be able to stop."

"i-i don't care. just..." you begin, unable to even finish the thought when he shifts slightly, unintentionally pushing into you even deeper. "move."

he snorts at your desperation, but the sound turns into something akin to a growl when he pulls out slightly, before shoving himself right back in all the way.

"ah!" you sob pathetically, clinging onto his hand even tighter as he starts to shallowly thrust into you. shit, you're pretty sure you just felt something inside of you snap.

you're officially no longer a virgin.

"yeahhh." toji grunts above you, his lips spreading into a pussydrunk grin as he moves he moves his hips leisurely but expertly. you're starting to understand why his hookups always cry his name so loud through the thin walls separating your rooms.

the initial pain slowly starts to fade, being replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure and fullness. you bring your shaky legs up to wrap around his beefy back, your ankles locking against his skin.

"jesus, girl," he groans, his hips subtly stuttering in their pace in response to your actions. "y'er pullin' me in even deeper."

you open your mouth to apologize, or retort, or something, but it comes out as a slurred garble when you feel toji's fat cockhead brush against your cervix.

"uh huhh." he grins smugly, his hand that was interlaced with yours moving down to grip your hip and keep you in place as he quickens his pace slightly. he's being a little gentler than he usually would be just for you, but this is still toji here.

"t-too much!" you cry out, reaching up to grasp onto his bicep above you for some sort of support. your entire body is jolting against the covers in response to his increasingly hard thrusts, your mouth hanging open dumbly.

"nah, dollface," he grunts in protest, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip as if to ground you. "i know y'can take it. doing so damn well f'me."

toji brings his palm up from your hip to slide under your previously bunched up shirt, fondling your breasts and rolling one of your hardened nipples between his fingers.

this makes a loud mewl escape from your throat, your cunt clenching around him in response to the dual sensations. if you thought his tongue made you reach new heights of pleasure, his cock is a completely different beast.

you can already feel something strange stirring in the depths of your stomach. it's not like your previous orgasm, it's unfamiliar — it almost feels like you're about to pee.

"t-toji, feels weird," you slur out, squirming against the covers as you try to hold the rising sensation at bay. "like i'm gonna pee or something. m-maybe y'should pull out."

he barks out a laugh at this, as if he knows something you don't. his hand moves down to pat your stomach, right where the prominent bulge of his cock is moving in and out.

"that means you're gonna squirt, baby." he utters simply, making your eyes widen in surprise. now that's something you've definitely never managed to make yourself do before.

looks like you're gonna be ticking off more than one first from the list today.

"makin' ya squirt for y'er first time," he proclaims cockily, smirking to himself as he effortlessly keeps up the languid rolls of his hips. "i'm damn good, ain't i?"

"i haven't even squirted yet." you grumble, heat flooding to your cheeks in response to his teasing. he's still your annoyingly smug roommate, even when he's fucking you into his mattress.

"key word — yet." toji shrugs in response, his lethal thrusts quickening in pace. his rough palm pushes down right above your bulging tummy, causing you to let out a strangled gasp.

your cunt clenches impossibly tighter around him, your ankles digging into the skin of his back as you feel your second orgasm of the night start to wash over you. "fuck. g-gonna..."

"yeah? c'mon, baby, make a mess all on me." he grunts gruffly, his hand moving down to rub lazy, sloppy circles against your puffy clit, the nub pulsing under his touch.

"tojiiii!" you practically sob, the added stimulation sending you hurling over the edge before you can process it. your vision goes completely white with the intensity of your high, your breaths coming in heavy gasps.

"oh, thattt's it," he hums in satisfaction, lightly patting your pussy as he watches the gushes of clear liquid squirt out, lewdly coating the base of his cock and balls in your essence. "fuckin' good girl."

it only takes him a couple more strokes for toji to know he's close too, and he quickly pulls out, slapping his thick cock against the flushed skin of your tummy and giving it a few final jerks.

as much as he'd love to fill you up, he figures that since you're a virgin, you probably wouldn't be on birth control.

and he's not about take that risk.

toji lets out a low, raspy grunt as he spills his creamy, pearlescent cum all over your stomach, tainting the supple skin with his sticky, oozy mess.

he lazily tugs his boxers and sweatpants back up, wiping some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before leaning down and giving your cheek a quick, wet kiss.

then he saunters out of the room, leaving you panting and limp on his bed while he rifles through your purse on the living room table.

"i would've done that for free, by the way." toji mutters amusedly as he pulls out your credit card, waving it tauntingly in front of his face with the smuggest grin yet stretching at his lips. "see ya in thirty six hours, dollface."

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

i’d like to dedicate my first proper fic to @screampied because her works inspired me to begin writing my own! <3

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[starrydragoness]

Head empty, no thoughts in terms of any real inspiration but I can absolutely offer my brain worm that is Boothill and beg you to give me anything with him in it!!! 😎👉👉

Like, really

PLEASE I'M STARVING PLEASEPLEASEPL-

A/n: I understand that feeling very well, the brainworms really got to you huh- heigafg Anyhow I hope you enjoy this little short thing of the man Boothill <3 Man I love him

Contents: Boothill x Reader, fem reader, MDNI, 18+ content, eating out (fine dining - you)

Cold fingers make indents in the flesh of your thighs, holding your legs apart while the man between them pulls the lewdest of songs from your mouth using his tongue alone. Boothill was hellbent on showing you just how much he loves you today, and it is not often that he is around for long so he was making due with the time he had. He had you sprawled out on your couch, both legs up in the air where he held them, letting you freely kick when he buried his mouth in your slick heat. 

You’re sure your thighs will have bruises by morning, but the cool feel of his fingers is a soothing sensation, it’s keeping you grounded while his tongue works to make you high on pleasure. There’s no rush in his movement, but there is a need, strong as he is passionate about his love for you and his revenge with the IPC. He is pressing into you like a man desperate to reach air after a long breath hold. 

“Boothill- fuck.. that’s so good..” you are speechless and caught without a coherent word in mind, yet you felt like you’d lose your wits and lose out on the pleasure if you didn’t say something. Boothill’s ears ring with the honey sweet sound of your frail tone, chuckling into your heat, blowing hot air over your skin through his nose before he lifted his head just enough to kiss the insides of your thighs. 

“Ya’ve said that a moment ago, sugar, don’t ya got something new for this starved man?” he taunts, praising your other thigh with his lips as well before letting his teeth meet your soft skin as well. “Or perhaps I should take it for myself, I have ya spread out so nicely before me right now-” he says and kisses your clit, sending a small jolt of pleasure right up through you. 

“Mmm.. ahh, you’re crazy..” you mutter in that small moment of reprieve, to which he simply says “No, darling, you drive me crazy.. been driving me crazy the entire day. Dressed all pretty and fancy, and for who, hm?” he indulges himself in another lick up your folds, adjusting his grip to the back of your thighs and pushing them up towards you some more. Although his tone is lighthearted and warm - poisoned honey - you know he is waiting for you to respond.

“For you, mm!-”

“That’s right, all pretty for me..all dolled up, for me..” he closes his lips around your clit, suckling and licking, making you squeal before he lets go with a deep chuckle before he’s eating you out again at that pace from before, pushing to make you beg for a release.

Ⓒ starrydragoness. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[libingan]

—how the tf141 are like when they’re sick.

im sick. that’s literally my only motivation to write this.

i feel like absolute shit but holy fuck i wanted to write this so pls enjoy

no horny juice rn, so its all fluff

JOHN PRICE

when price gets sick, it’s almost like he’s in denial about it. he’s the type to downplay everything—says it’s just a little cough, just a bit of a sore throat. but then, as the fever starts creeping up, you see the cracks in his usual solid demeanor. he’s flushed, his breathing a bit labored, and when you gently place the back of your hand on his forehead, he swats you away at first, grumbling that he’s fine.

“you don’t have to worry about me,” he mutters, trying to keep his voice steady. but the cough that rattles through his chest betrays him, and eventually, even he can’t deny it anymore.

you coax him into bed, tucking the blankets around his broad frame, and he grumbles under his breath about how ridiculous this all is. he’s not used to being taken care of—he’s the captain, the one in charge, and letting someone fuss over him isn’t in his nature. but there’s a moment when you bring him some tea, and he accepts it quietly, his eyes softening just a little as he watches you.

“i’ve had worse,” he rasps, his voice thick with congestion, but when you sit beside him, he leans into the warmth of your presence, even if he won’t admit it. he tries to stay in control, tries to ask about your day or if there’s any work that needs to be done, but you can see how tired he is. when he finally gives in to sleep, his hand rests loosely on yours, a silent acknowledgment that he’s glad you’re there, even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

gaz is the worst when he’s sick, and he knows it. he tries to be strong about it, but the minute the fever sets in, he’s a mess of sniffles, groans, and dramatic sighs. you find him sprawled out on the couch, a blanket barely covering him as he flips through channels, looking utterly miserable.

“i feel like death,” he complains when you sit next to him, and despite the obvious exaggeration, he looks pitiful enough that you can’t help but smile. he’s not usually one to be overly needy, but when he’s sick? he’s all about the attention.

you bring him some soup, and he gives you a weak smile, propping himself up just enough to take a sip. “you’re an angel,” he mumbles, but even that little bit of gratitude is followed by a dramatic cough that makes you roll your eyes.

he’s restless, constantly shifting under the blankets and complaining about how bored he is, how much he hates feeling like this. you offer to stay with him, and his eyes light up, a mischievous glint behind the obvious exhaustion. “you gonna keep me company?” he teases, voice thick with congestion. “or are you just here to make sure i don’t die on the couch?

you settle in beside him, and even though he’s feeling awful, he still cracks jokes, trying to keep things light. but there’s a quiet moment where he leans into you, his head resting on your shoulder as he drifts off to sleep, his breathing finally evening out. you stay there, feeling the weight of him against you, knowing that as much as he’s complaining, he appreciates you being there.

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

soap is absolutely insufferable when he’s sick, and he knows it. at first, he tries to play it off—still bouncing around, still grinning, still acting like everything’s fine. but then the fever hits, and it’s like watching a hurricane get knocked flat. he’s sprawled out on the bed, tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable no matter what he does.

you bring him a glass of water, and he gives you that familiar, cocky grin, even though he’s clearly not feeling well. “you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he rasps, taking the water and downing it in one go. his voice is rough, but there’s still that glint of mischief in his eyes. “ye know, if i weren’t sick, we could be havin’ a lot more fun right now.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the way his teasing makes your heart flutter. he’s always been like this—flirty, cheeky, always pushing your buttons. even now, as he’s lying there, feverish and miserable, he can’t resist making a comment.

“don’t suppose you’ll give me a wee cuddle, eh?” he grins, shifting on the bed and patting the spot beside him. “might help me feel better.”

you know he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, but when you settle next to him, he actually quiets down for a moment, resting his head on your shoulder. his skin is warm, almost too warm, and you can feel the tension in his muscles as he tries to get comfortable

“don’t worry,” he mumbles, his voice soft now. “i’ll be back to my usual self soon enough. ye won’t be able to keep yer hands off me.” despite his words, he’s clearly exhausted, and when he finally drifts off, he’s peaceful for once, his usual energy gone, replaced by the quiet rhythm of his breathing.

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

when ghost gets sick, it’s like he’s trying to hide it from the world. he’s not the type to show weakness, not even to you, and it takes a lot for him to admit that he’s not feeling well. but eventually, even he can’t fight it off anymore, and you find him in bed, eyes closed, the tension in his body betraying how much he’s struggling.

he doesn’t say much when you sit beside him, offering him some medicine and a glass of water. he just nods, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the glass, the touch brief but enough to let you know he’s thankful for your presence.

he’s quiet—always quiet—but even more so when he’s sick. there’s no grumbling, no complaining, just the occasional shift of his body as he tries to get comfortable. you adjust the blankets around him, and his eyes flicker open for a moment, dark and heavy with exhaustion.

“you don’t have to stay,” he mutters, his voice low and rough. but there’s no force behind his words, no real intent for you to leave. in fact, the way his eyes follow you as you move around the room tells you that he doesn’t want to be alone, even if he won’t admit it.

you sit beside him, and for a while, there’s just the sound of his breathing, slow and labored. he doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t demand your attention, but the way his hand occasionally brushes against yours is enough. he’s not used to being taken care of, but he lets you stay, lets you be the quiet comfort he needs.

eventually, his breathing evens out, and he falls into a restless sleep. you watch over him, knowing that even though he doesn’t say much, your presence is enough to ease some of the weight he’s carrying, even if only for a little while.

[tpwk-formula1]

Kimi Antonelli. I would like to have my pizza with coliflower crust(grumpy reader) with Alfredo sauce. Now for the toppings, maybe with basil, broccoli and Gouda cheese. And for my drink sprite and truly. Maybe mt dew (sub reader) and yes aftercare. THANK U MY LOVE❤️❤️❤️

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

cauliflower crust sunshine x grumpy Alfredo sweet sex basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” sprite size kink truly belly bulge mt dew dom/sub dessert yes served by Kimi Antonelli

Kimi x Grumpy! reader

TW - riding cock, belly bulge, size kink, missionary, unprotected sex, creampie

WC 1400+

Y/N POV

"Why are you so moody today," Kimi whispered into my ear while pinching my thigh is a "behave yourself" manner.

"I'm not," I snapped whispering back getting more annoyed with my boyfriend. He just rolls his eyes at me before turning his attention back to the rest of the table and joining in on their conversation leaving me to wallow in my own annoyance at my boyfriend.

"Are you good?" Ollie asks keeping his volume down so only I can hear him.

"I'm fine, why does everyone think I'm not," I whisper back at him letting him be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing. I cringe slightly when I realize Kimi had heard me snap at Ollie making him pinch my thigh a little harder.

"I mean you're normally pretty "grumpy" but today you have this look in your eye like you wanna destroy the world," Ollie whispers softly. I just shrug and we leave the conversation there.

He was right though, Kimi had always been the golden retriever boyfriend and I was the typical "black cat" girlfriend, which wasn't necessarily false but Kimi knew the truth. It was just a way to protect myself not wanting too many people getting too close to me, but Kimi spent years working on breaking my walls down, and here we are years later still going as strong as ever. As for the modd I'm in today, it's everyone else's comments on Kimi's F1 announcement that has me wanting to "destroy the world" or whatever Ollie said.

When the dinner wrapped up Kimi and I go back to his hotel room where he finally gets the answers he was looking for.

"It's just unfair Kimi! I mean they barely even watch you in Formula 2 and then the one time they watch you, you crash and while that is embarrassing I'm gonna be real with you BUT that doesn't mean you need to wait," I continue ranting laying in bed with Kimi making him smile but start kissing at my jaw and neck during my rant starting to distract me.

"Watching you get so mad on my behalf, it fucking hot," Kimi mumbles into my neck rutting his hips into my side letting me feel his hard cock through his briefs. I just roll my eyes and laugh.

"I can't believe my very serious rant about hating the fans of Formula 1 has you so horny you're grinding into me," I joke before turning onto my side so I'm facing him and pulling him in for a quick kiss.

Kimi refused to pull away so what was supposed to be a quick peck turned into us fighting for dominance with our tongues. Finally Kimi is pushing me on my back before climbing on top of me pinning my hands above my head all the while keeping his mouth on top of mine.

"Kimi, I need you," I whine against his mouth making him let out a breathy laugh making my pussy throb just at the noise.

"Hm. I wanna watch you bounce on my cock," Kimi said with a smirk before letting me use my strength to turn us over so I was the one on top now.

I start grinding my hips into Kimi's large cock making both of us whimper at the stimulation. I pull my sleep shirt off my body leaivng me in the lacey black panties I was going to sleep in before Im shuffling my body down slightly before pulling Kimi's briefs off letting his hard cock rest against his torso showing just how large he truly is. The tip is barely touching the bottom of his bellybutton.

I instantly start jerking his cock off dwarfing the size of my hand.

"Miracle I can walk in the mornings," I mumble softly making Kimi laugh at my little comment. Losing my virginity to Kimi was terrible and he refused to touch me for weeks after but as time went on we learned how to pleasure each other taking everything slow before I finally got my redo which was amazing.

"I can make it to where you can't walk tomorrow," Kimi said with a smirk written all over his face making my cheek heat at the suggestion. I just shook my head no, knowing tomorrow wasn't a good day for that.

I release Kimi's cock and make quick work of pulling my panties down before I'm climbing back into Kimi's lap. When I grip Kimi's cock I softly tease my clit making me whimper due to how sentive I was, but I needed to collect as much moisture on his cock as possible which wasn't very difficult.

Once Kimi's cock is drenched in my essence I slowly start sinking down making both of us gasp. Once I'm fully seated on Kimi's cock I give myself a few seconds to adjust before I start rocking my hips making both Kimi and I groan at the pleasure.

I start bouncing on Kimi's cock making both of us gasp and moan at the intense pleasure.

"Fuck, so fucking tight," Kimi groans making me speed up my actions slightly but still not going fast enough to bring either of us to an orgasm.

Kimi finally takes over and flips up back so he's on top and he slowly starts pounding into me making me gasp and moan feeling Kimi all over.

"Made just for me huh?" Kimi says with a smirk making me look at him noticing that he was staring at my tummy making me look down to notice the bulge from Kimi's cock.

I moan at the sight of Kimi's cock going in and out of my body slightly stunned at how noticeable it is.

"Fuck, faster please," I whimper while pulling Kimi's neck down to me so I can kiss him while he speeds up his actions making me whimper at the intensity.

Kimi pulls back slightly and starts fucking into me faster than he was previously making me gasp and feel my orgasm start to approach. Kimi knowing my body so well picked up on this and started pushing down on the bulge in my stomach making me feel Kimi so much more than before, it was starting to get almost too intense.

"Too much, slower," I moan and gasp out through a stuttered breath.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” Kimi says with a smirk all over his face. While he kept up the pace he let up just slightly on my stomach.

"I can tell you wanna cum," Kimi says before moving his hand from my stomach to my clit and rubbing it in soft circles bringing me over the edge.

"Fuck," I whimper while arching my back and cumming all over Kimi's cock sending him over the edge with one final thrust before unloading a massive load of his cum deep into my pussy making sure to fill me before slowly slipping his cock out not wanting to hurt my overstimulated pussy.

When Kimi slipped out of my pussy he just sits back on his knees and watches as some of his cum starts leaking out of my pussy.

"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" Kimi mumbles softly leaning down to kiss my lips making me blush at the dirty praise.

"Do you feel better?" Kimi jokes with a smirk all over his face making me roll my eyes and nod softly making Kimi laugh.

"You take me so well," Kimi says while getting out of bed and pulling me into his arms where he carries me into the bathroom where he puts me on the toilet to do my business while he turns his back and turns the shower on.

After Kimi and I shower together he helps me get dressed into a new shirt to sleep in before helping me step into my panties before laying us both of us on the bed for a cuddle.

"Did I really look like I wanted to destroy the world?" I question feeling back for snapping at everyone today. Kimi just nodded his head softly making me groan while he laughed at me slightly.

"I yelled at Ollie," I state softly making Kimi pull me into his side and place a soft kiss on my cheek.

"I know, I heard. But, if you feel that bad you can apologize tomorrow on the flight back," Kimi tells me softly knowing I won't feel better until I do apologize to Ollie. I just nod my head softly before melting into Kimi's embrace and falling asleep in his arms.

[yolli-es]

Please, I'm really sorry

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, sadness, rude treatment, mentions of death

I doubt this is in character, so treat it as a silly sketch. Writing text is harder than headcanons..

MY ENGLISH IS BAD AND THERE MAY BE MEANING ERRORS

You adore Jinx; you love and tolerate her. Your acquaintance was unexpected, and your subsequent friendship was spontaneous. You were choking with tears after losing your mother when she found you. This girl saved you so easily, as if it were so easy. Jinx never told you about the past, but when the voices in her head became too loud, you didn't need an explanation. You saw how bad she becomes and what consequences it can bring. Afterwards, you promise yourself to always be there so that you can prevent the irreparable. This was not always successful.

After Silko died, things got really bad. Jinx tried to continue his work, to be strong and collected. But this is Jinx. Your Jinx. And she never was and never will be like this. Maybe that's why she's been so rude to you, taking it out on you because she's under so much stress. Sooner or later it will all end, and she will be able to look at you again without irritation.

You forgive Jinx for everything: the harsh words, the insults, the hits. Because she always apologizes after. And you don't care that it's not sincere at all. You love her; she is the only thing you have.

The day started out quite normally. You and Jinx were sitting in Silko's office, which is still called that way to this day, on the initiative of Jinx herself. It was all quite nice: she decided to share with you many thoughts about the future, which happened quite rarely. But then Sevika came in. And with her came terrible news. Shimmer production had been disrupted again. The enforcers blew up the plant, dealing with the guards there without any particular problems. And she just walked out after saying that. Just one look from Jinx made it clear how bad she was feeling right now,

"It's not your fault, and..." — you're interrupted by a rude "shut up." Jinx, who had been sitting on the table quite relaxed, now clutched her head, her eyes closed, and her breathing quickened. Just a few moments ago she was vulnerable, and now she's rude to you again. "You don't understand me at all," Jinx said in a breaking voice, hiding her face in her knees. It was painful to hear. We have been through a lot together. But she's worse off, and you step over yourself again: "I love you, Jinx. What do you want me to do?". You tell her this so often, so sincerely and naively. Her reaction to your words is always different; you can never guess, and now she again hits you: "I want you to stop being so useless and just help me." Jinx whispered, still struggling with her emotions. She hadn't let herself get angry, panicked, or sad that easily since Silko died. No tears. She kept herself under control. And is that what she thought all along? It's your fault; you're just doing a shitty job. Obviously, sitting here with her is not what she wanted. It looks so painful for you. The girl you love is suffering so much; why don't you just make it easier? That day you stayed, having endured many insults and a couple of blows.

Usually you stayed by Jinx's side, always supporting her and helping her with many tasks. For example, maintaining her authority in the city, keeping an eye out for possible rats nearby, and always saving your love from nervous breakdowns. But now you're by Sevika's side, at a shimmer production plant. You didn't tell Jinx anything; you didn't even think she would ask and worry. You need to act more decisively, as she wanted it. The task was simple: wait until the enforcers come here and destroy them. You were never a good fighter, just a decent shot. Your skills were enough to protect yourself on the streets of Zaun, but they were nothing against well-trained law enforcement officers. That's why you stayed on the sidelines, watching from above and covering Sevika.

You realized how much you screwed up with this shit when you found yourself in the middle of a shootout. Things didn't go according to plan when Sevika was shot, and now you had to save her. Letting the woman lean on you, you ran upstairs. The sounds of gunshots, explosions, and screams confirmed your fears: this plant is finished. Neither the shimmer nor the people were saved. Adrenaline was pumping through you, and you didn't notice anything except the cherished goal.

You reached a safe place and fell. The rest was like a dream. Sevika sat next to you, trying to close the open wound. She tied it with a rag, shouting something about the presence of shimmer nearby. The wound seems to be on your legs, chest, and head. It was painful and cold. Severe weakness. How the hell did enforcers get you? You couldn't think, let alone remember. This woman was shaking you, trying to make you think, but you had already given up. You had lost, and you had screwed up so badly, Jinx would never forgive you. Sevika shouted something, and you didn't really listen; you just couldn't. And then your gaze focused on a blue spot... Jinx? You wanted to look at her one last time. She may be disappointed in you, angry, or simply empty towards you, but all this will not matter as long as she is here. Your eyes closed for just a moment.

" ...orr..."—You can't see, only distantly hear. Such a nice sound; you've heard it before. The noise makes you open your eyes again. A flash of light disorientated you. Straining your eyes, you managed to make out a silhouette in front of you. It was Jinx, and... she was crying. She was in complete disarray, desperately holding your face. She bit her lips every time she wanted to swallow the lump in her throat and continue talking. She was talking to you. What was she saying? Your damn body is so weak. "Hold on, just breathe. Please, I'm really sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you...",-She repeated it over and over while you felt the shimmer being injected into your body. You wanted to calm her down, to say "I love you" back. And all you did was watch silently. Your eyelids were so heavy, and your body suddenly seemed too weightless. You were being yelled at, shaken, and pricked with a shimmer stabbed over and over. And you were too weak to respond to it, closing your eyes one last time.

Jinx sincerely apologizes this time. It's a pity that your mind was too weak to realize this.

it was short, unclear and stupid 🥴 Wrote this in a hurry while I'm taking a break from studying and writing other things.

[serialkilluh1996]

✆𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐑✆

Older-Crush-König x Younger-female-reader pt.1

You have an unhealthy infatuation with König. But where there is obsession, there are dilemmas. He's 35, you're 21. He's your colonel, you're just an assistant. But most importantly, he can't fucking stand you.

Warnings: reader has specifically the personality i wrote, use of ☆☆☆ in place of reader's name, age gap (14 years), König is kinda of an ass, contact me if I need to add more.

Proshippers, Comshippers DNI

¹ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ➛

It's been almost a year since you fell in love with this man.

You were 20, looking for a reasonably paying job to live a reasonably affordable life, and Kortac had just the position.

A base level assistant. All you had to do was make sure everyone was in check, keep track of everyone's time sheets, and make sure all important files, including inventory, were safely stowed away in your computer supplied by the company. Who could turn down such an easy job? You didn't even have to do any field work.

Your life was going pretty damn smooth, if it wasn't for him. Him being König, your colonel and angel. He's a gorgeous man. Bright blue eyes, a firm muscular body, imposing height, his flattering accent. You were instantly in love with him, and he fucking hated it.

It started off small, with him politely hinting you away, but you were persistent. Bothersome. You absolutely wouldn't let him go, and that very fact would be the death of you.

König taps his pen against his desk, unmotivated to write his paperwork that was long past due. It wasn't anything serious, just a list of yes/no, if/and, where/when questions he didn't feel like reading through. Tap tap tap tap, the pen knocks against the table, abruptly stopping once König noticed you standing in the doorway.

He sighs, his entire mood shifting from unmotivated to irritated. "...why are you here, ☆☆☆..." he asks, sounding like more of a statement than a question due to his heavy accent and rough tone. Your name sounded like a curse coming from his mouth; a slur, even.

"I've done all my tasks." You explain to him, hands clasped together as you lean against the threshold.

"Und? Did ya want a cookie or something?" He teases. "I–I–" you stutter out, not sure how to respond to his sarcasm. "Don't worry about it." He fans his hand, looking back down at the paper.

He would've wrather been writing than dealing with you right now. You were so genuinely in love, enamored by him and his....qualities. but to König, this was all just some dumb hormonal puppy crush. He wanted a mature woman, not some silly girl like you.

"I...wanted to know if you'd go to the bar with me." You force out, your stomach churning with anxiety as you finally got the words out. "I'm not gonna be able to sneak you, Liebling, if that's what you're implying." He chuckles softly, beginning to scribble away at the paper.

"Sneak me in? I'm old enough to go to a bar, thank you very much." You look offended. It's almost humorous to him. Your anger is probably the only thing about you that made him smile, how funny and easy it was to piss you off. The younger ones typically did have a shorter temper.

"Oh, und how old are ya? 16? 17?" "...21." You said firmly, visibly irritated. You somehow managed to be the youngest in every group, so you were no stranger to being tease about your age.

"Oh...just old enough to drink. So, you want me to come and babysit you while you get drunk off your ass by some alcohol you're probably not even strong enough to handle?" "Why are you acting like this?" You folded your arms, frowning.

"What?" "I'm not inviting you as a chaperone, I'm inviting you as a date." You tilt your head slightly.

"...A date?" König almost bursts into laughter, stifling his chuckles with coughs as he covered his mouth. You could feel your confidence dropping with every hearty giggle.

"You're asking me out? Seriously?" "...yes." You mumble, no longer wanting to talk. "Why don't you ask Avery, hm? He's MUCH closer to your age." You frown at his words.

Avery was one his soldiers. A very kind young man, no older than 25, messy blonde hair. You loved having Avery around and he always made your moments memorable, but...he was practically a brother to you. You didn't see Avery as a potential love interest, you saw him as a silly best friend who had your back when you needed it.

"I don't want to go with him. I don't like him." You pouted.

"Well, that's too bad, Liebling. I'm far too old to be going out with someone like you. You're too young, und frankly, quite annoying. I want a woman. Not a puppy. Go ask someone else," he clicks his pen, leaning back in his chair.

"You're a very beautiful young lady and I'm sure there's plenty of men your age willing to kill to be with you." "I don't care what tuey want, I care what I want." You try to sound demanding, like you're standing your ground, but it comes out like a spoiled child whining, frustrating you further.

"Don't throw a fit, now." "I'm not!" You shout, now angry with yourself for being so openly bothered by his rejection. He couldn't help but exhale, looking at the sight of you. Your face was hot with agitation, eyes squinted with frustration as you stared into his eyes. He couldn't help but smile at your clenched hands. You were awful at hiding your emotions. It was almost precious to him

He felt himself becoming more tense, having to look down at the desk and put a hand to his forehead. "What am I gonna do with you..." he shakes his head. This wasn't the first time he'd rejected your advances; you've asked a myriad of times, being slowly but surely denied with more force each time.

"... I'll consider it." He offers, scratching his forehead, and you almost instantly rejoice at the idea. You suppressed a squeal as you bit your lip, trying not to make yourself look dumber.

"But not as a date." He interrupts, and you become nervous again.

"I don't want any unnecessary rumors about us spreading around. I'm not dating you and I don't want people to have the impression that I am. I'll invite a few others to go along with us and you will behave like a proper young lady. Understood?" "....Understood."

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself.

[kissitbttr]

small prologue from frat!sukuna

*gojo finally has you!*

-

gojo satoru is a man with many things.

he’s rich, handsome, smart, popular. a number one heartthrob on campus and he’s enjoying every second of it.

and you’d think that a man who has it all wouldn’t be seen asking for more. because what could’ve he wanted more than what he has now?

well,

he wants you.

“i don’t understand why you keep resisting me. why do you keep thinking about him?! i can treat you better!”

gojo is in fact very much stubborn. soon as he heard what sukuna has done to you, he can’t stay silent any longer. he needs to save you. he needs to see you. he needs to hold and kiss you.

he needs you. period.

so he confesses everything. the bottled up feelings he has over the last few months. the only problem is that you don’t believe him. and even if you were, what are the chances of gojo is only here to play with your feelings?

but he’s determined to make you think differently,

“gojo you are not thinking straight—“

he scoffs, shaking his head at you being so hard headed. “y/n! for once, i have never been so sure and set for what i have in mind than i am right now! i care about you! i love you, why are you so—argh!”

“he’s your best friend! how could you so easily say all that to me knowing me and him were together at some point?!” you cross your arms, looking up at him with a hard look that he somehow loves.

again, gojo groans, flaring his arms up before bringing them down. “jesus, we still on that?! why is that pink haired mother fucker has you wrapped around his finger while i’m here begging to be wrapped around yours?!”

you stand still. trying your best to not to get his words affects you despite your unusual beating heart says otherwise.

you have never seen gojo satoru so worked up. hands on his hips, eye brows scrunched as if he’s thinking hard on which ass he has to beat

(keyword:sukuna)

“i don’t care if he’s my best friend” he says with a softer tone, pretty blue eyes looking intently into yours. “I don’t care if we’re in the fraternity and how that makes us frat brothers…because I cannot tolerate the fact that he hurt you”

and another thing? you have never seen gojo acts so soft,

so putty… so careful with his words… so..

in love

“the one girl who i have strong feelings for during the time he had you… the only girl who has me feeling excited to wake up each morning and look forward to see every day…the only girl who’s got the guts to call me out on my shit” he takes another step closer to you, and he finds a relief to see you’re not stepping back,

his eyes study your features. each and every single one of it.

you are so damn gorgeous, it is driving gojo insane.

“and i am in love with her” he says it again that night with confidence, his hands move slowly to cup your cheeks and make you look at him. “all i’m asking for is a chance… that’s all”

“tell me what i have to do to make you trust me… that i’m not here to play with your feelings”

speechless. is the only thing you feel right now. you can’t exactly form any sentences because it feels like everything is on halt.

what do you say to your old hookup’s best friend that he’s in love with you? and how do you feel about this?

it’s not that you don’t love him back, in fact? it could be the opposite.

he, among the many friends of sukuna is the only one who always checks up on you. during parties, he’d make sure to keep you hydrated because you don’t drink as much alcohol. he’d make sure to have you eat your meals. he’d make sure that you get home safe after class or your part time job. gojo also makes sure that you receive as much as praises you need for the time you got A on your criminal justice class or won a case,

and he’d be sure to tell you, he’s got a taste of your homemade soft cookies that you made. ispahan is his favorite.

maybe gojo satoru is made for you.

“you are so… dumb and pathetic, satoru” you shakily whisper, though make no attempt to remove his hands from you,

he lets out a small laugh, nodding.

“i can be that, baby” he replies, resting his forehead on yours,

“i can be whatever it is you want me to be as long as i get to call you mine”

[nxtaliaistyping]

Thinking about Morpheus making you ride him as punishment :(

Author’s note: oh my god the season 2 behind the scenes look has me screaming, I’m so excited. I need him back in my life.

18+ nsfw, fem reader, slight bondage

Morpheus is nothing if not an attentive lover, always putting your pleasure first. While you’re in his realm, you don’t have to lift a finger, don’t have to want for anything. He provides.

And while he spends long stretches ravaging you, of taking you apart piece by piece via his long fingers stroking your clit until you squirm and cry for him, or fingering you while your gush around his lithe digits, there’s occasionally times where he finds you…challenging.

That mouth of yours has a tendency to run rampant, undermining his authority. He is a king, a god…more than a god; an endless. And to think a bratty little mortal like you has the audacity to be in his domain, his kingdom, and demand more of his time and energy? Well, you simply need a correction. A simple reminder of your place.

So that’s why you find yourself straddling him, thighs burning as you move up and down. He looks every bit the king of dreams as he sits on his impressive throne, how high you both are allowing you to survey the room while you ride your lover to the best of your capabilities. An unseen force is keeping your hands pinned to the small of your back, not even giving you the slight relief of bracing your weight on his thighs or shoulders.

No, instead you simply have to rut against him, feeling every bit like a concubine, pleasing your ruler.

“Are you getting tired my love? That cannot be the case I’m sure, since you were so eager to have me earlier. Quite…insistent, were you not?”

You whine pitifully at his words, the ache of your limbs at the repetitive motions setting in. Morpheus doesn’t have quite the same need to cum that you do, after all you both are in the dreaming, as much a part of him as he is of it. He can withhold his orgasm for as long as needed, which seems to be long enough that you’re soaking his lap with your needy juices.

“Making a mess I see, so wanton.” He chastises, but still makes no effort to help you move.

“Please…”

“Hm?” He tilts his head, a neutral expression plastered on his regal features. “Is there something you need, dearest?”

God you just want to scream, but your outburst would most likely not help your situation, so you give him a particularly strong slam of your hips before batting your eyelashes. “Please just fuck me.”

Instead of your desired response, he simply tuts. “You misunderstand the situation. This is…correctional. Your penance if you will. After all, you were the one being especially mouthy while in my realm. So it’s only right you prove to me you’re worth the attentions of a king.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly how reminding you of his status above you makes you whine and clench your pussy around him. Your body is an instrument he is especially well versed in playing.

“Perhaps I have been too accommodating to your every whim and desire. I have created a spoilt thing it seems, so used to not putting in the work to achieve what she wants. This lesson is needed.”

Knowing no other way, you fight against your bodies’ exhaustion to ride him with vigour, rolling your hips. Pleasant hums occasionally pass his lips, the minuscule praise like a drug as you move faster on his lap.

You must get too carried away, as he gives your hip a light slap. “Now now, do not allow yourself to get carried away. Remember, it’s rhythm that is important in sexual situations such as this. Not just how fast you can move your hips on me.”

At his reprimanding, you nod your understanding and mutter a soft apology, building a rhythm that works. The sheer fact you’re riding him on his throne, in his throne room, really settles in. Anyone could walk in, heaven forbid Matthew flies in and gets the shock of his (after)life.

But you can’t deny how much it turns you on, to be dream of the endless’s favourite mortal, his favourite little pet to entertain him. It’s almost power in a strange sort of way, but it thrills you nonetheless.

Eventually, your lover’s hips start to move up in time with your thrusts, causing the breath to leave your lungs quickly. Your hands are released, and you quickly move them to his shoulders, feeling the material of his black cloak under your fingertips.

“Touch yourself. Feel the pleasure that I allow you to take.”

You don’t need to be told twice, fingers hurriedly rubbing circles on your clit as he fucks up into you with tenacity. “Please…can I cum?”

“You can do better.”

A moan rips its way from your lips before you can stop it. “Please…please my king, I need to cum. Please let me cum, I won’t talk back again, I’ll be so good…please.”

A trace of a smirk tugs on his lips, and he gives a simple nod of his head. Blue eyes trace over your trembling form as you finish all over his lap. A few thrusts later, he’s buried to the hilt inside of your weeping cunt, filling you up. He allows you to slump against him, gentle fingers moving up and down your spine to soothe you, his release warm inside of your spent pussy.

“Was that to your enjoyment?” He mumbles lowly into your ear, and you can’t help the girlish giggle you make as you nod against him. His smirk is now transformed into a soft smile, not allowing you to see this moment of vulnerability as he presses kisses to your hairline.

“Do not make such demands of me again, unless you want your next punishment to not involve climax for you at all.”

[imwetforyourmom]

FADING AS THE SONG GOES.

CW: Angst, unresolved angst?, breaking up, crying, drugs and shit, hanging around the wrong crowd, !!!!DO NOT DO DRUGS!!!! very bad drugs

SUMMARY: Of course chris noticed when you werent okay, he was your boyfriend afterall.

A/N: I have no idea how drugs work, so bear w me here

·˚ ༘

“Its okay, to not be okay, my love.”

The secret was out before it was even whispered to your own mind. It was no secret why you came home with bloodshot eyes, rasped voice, drug smelling breath, the scent too strong, even when you chewed mint gum eight times before coming home, it was still there. Everyone knew what you were doing.

You never received the adrenaline pumping through your blood from keeping such a ‘thrilling’ secret. And, as much as you told yourself, the adrenaline that was once hoped for, wasn’t why you started. It was never even a thought to begin with, that was just what you told people when they curiously asked, and not for the fake bullshit, the real reason why. But why would you tell them the truth? You didnt owe them that.

On the other hand, you owed your boyfriend the truth. You owed him the spilling of your guts, the reeling truth of why you’d begun. But, the guilt swimming down your lungs, stealing your choice of freed breathing, choking you, was why you chose not to. The silent cries, pleas and begs from the little voices inside your head did little to convince you to stop, but they didnt do nothing either. Thats why you’d shoved them into the crevices of your mind, mangled within the rest of your innocence. You knew Chris’ begging voice would do everything to tell you to stop, another reason you never told him. You didnt want to stop.

The radioactive chemicals that filled your body was too addicting to quit, the pure high you felt was strong enough to hold you in its grasp, shove you around and control you. You, too delirious with how good it felt to have the drug pumping through you, to even try and claw your way out. To even try and think about stopping, because when even the slight thought of quitting sent not shivers down your spine, but the crackling of each bone in the drugs grasp went down your spine.

Not even the warmth seeping from Chris’ body when he held you was as good as the high you experienced. Chris would never amount to the drugs, (he controls the guilt). As much as you loved the boy, you loved the intoxicating taste of drugs more. The more you came home late, the more your body ached with the need to feed it more, to give it that beautiful, delicious, ‘at peace’ moments. The more your eyes sunk in, the more your laughter escaped your body, hanging with your ‘friends’. Little did you know, you would’ve actually despised these people if you werent high off your ass everytime you hung out with them. Your little buddies were never people you’d even think about hanging out with, they’d bring that sick feeling of nausea in your stomach when sober. But you weren’t sober. The more you lost yourself, the more Chris was left sat on the bed, watching as the door shut, the peek of little light falling from his lane of vision as it closed comepletely. Why were you leaving him in the dark, there to slouch his shoulders, rest his head in his hands as his thoughts became too heavy?

Gosh, why couldn’t you just fucking stop. What was wrong with you? What was so fucking messed up in your already fucked up head that you chose drugs over your own boyfriend?

In the otherwise silent room, the brush of a foot pushed against the creaky floorboards, you didnt look up. Too ashamed to meet the eye of what you’d hoped, Chris’ hopeful gaze.

“Y/n?” Chris’ voice interrupted the sudden crowding of your own mind, the thoughts all swarming like a crowd of people at a concert, no other reason except to move.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Answer him you asshole!

Your voice tangled within the confines of your closing throat, making it harder for you to speak. Your eyes moved quickly to Chris’, despite the slow bobbing of your head falling backwards.

With a strained effort to speak, you answered. “Yes?” Your eyes looked up to meet his, the almost pitch black room normally lit up with only his pure presense, but it didnt. It only saddened the tension mingling in the air.

His face was sympathetic. Fuck. All the guilt rushed up to the surface, filling your body and taking it whole, that your eyes begged to release the guilt. It began to become harder to hold the tears back, even with only two words uttered, shoved into the atmosphere.

His adams apple bopped downwards as he swallowed, his hands coming to his lower abdomen as they connected, fidgeting nervously like a child in trouble. The eye contact he held began faltering, his lips twitching to speak.

“A- Are you okay?” His hands dropped, his chest rising with a sudden quick inhale, maybe the air was thick with confidence, for him, at least. You felt as if the air was so thick with awkward tension you couldn’t breathe.

The swarming crowds in your mind disappeared, vanishing into the dusty air of your mind. Leaving you to sit, rocking back and forth, holding your head in your hands, too occupied with thinking of a reply to his question to actually answer his question, either the truth, or a lie. He knows the truth either way, you knew that. But you didn’t feel comfortable enough to admit that you werent okay, it itched your throat with nausea.

Chris’ eyebrows creased in remorse. His lips slipping to a frown as the air around them began swishing, sloshing with each movement made. He swallowed his previous longing for an answer to everything, instead, he moved his feet, the thick air begrudgingly moving along with him as he sat down, side by side with you.

His arm slid to your shoulder, pulling you close to him as he breathed in and out, slouched and sitting there, holding you against him as he prepared himself for the conversation he was intending to have with you.

“Its okay, to not be okay, my love.” He whispered, his head staring ahead, eyes glued to the monotone green and red carpet coating the floor. His hand rubbed your arm, maybe subconciously, who knows.

“I’m your boyfriend, you dont need to keep secrets from me, you dont need to hide in fear of shame. Thats not what i’m here for.” His voice remained the same, a tired lacing, with a rasp beginning to rip the seams.

“I’m here to be by your side, hold you as mine, let your tears soak my shoulder, share laughter with you, to share arguments together, even. But I cant do that, if you choose-“ his voice faltered, a sharp inhale interrupting his trail of words, as a seemingly brace for himself. “If you choose drugs over me, my love. You need to choose me. And I know, I know its going to be hard, but I want you to want to give them up, I want you to need the freedom.”

You stayed silent, your head resting onto his shoulder, listening to his words as he spoke. If only, if only, you could seep them in. Let them change you, but the drugs felt stronger, grabbing your wrist and tugging, like a helpless child.

Your voice cracked with emotion as you began, “I can’t, Chris,” a near sob escaped your throat. “I want to, I really do, but I just— I cant.” You gave up, your voice trailing off. Your eyes closed, tears beginning to flow down your cheeks, the painful lump in your throat serving as a warning for the sobs begging to rack through your body.

He nods, closing his eyes. A small, seemingly shattered exhale leaves his lips. His hand doesnt stop its comforting and assuring rubs onto your shoulder, only now, his thumb sweeps over your skin every few seconds.

He rests his head ontop of yours. The previous awkward silence seeps to the ground through the cracks of the wood floor. Acceptance is what takes its place. Acceptance that you couldnt let go, acceptance that Chris couldnt do anything to help, unless you let go. Acceptance, that it just wasnt going to work out, no matter how desperate of a longing ache filled inside Chris’ body. It wasnt his choice.

You were just, fading as the song goes.

1,329 words

TAGS

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@chrissturniolosworld @ariqolyx

@mels222lunchbox

@elas3

[cliophilyra]

Riding Up Front

Bucktommy | E | 1500 wds | No warnings

Buck is outside in the yard, blasting the engine with the high pressure hose and entertaining murderous fantasies of turning the hose on Gerrard and blowing him through a fucking wall. The bastard is on the warpath today as usual, finding a seemingly endless list of pointless tasks for each of them. None of them have had a moment’s rest for the whole of their 48hr shift and even now that they’re offline for a few hours, nominally for rest, he’s got them cleaning everything that is already gleaming from the last round of pointless busy work.

Buck wants nothing in the world more than he wants to go home and sink into Tommy’s arms, and ideally onto his cock, and put this nightmare out of his mind for a few hours. But that’s not happening. He’s got 12 hours of it to go and Tommy is away, flying wildfire suppression missions in the hills for god knows how long.

So when a big hand claps him on the shoulder he jumps a mile in the air and turns, already braced for another mouthful of abuse from their new captain. But it’s not Gerrard.

Tommy is standing behind him smiling and beautiful and Buck feels a wave of absolute joy just at the sight of his gorgeous boyfriend.

“Hey,” Tommy says softly.

“Baby! What-what are you doing here?” Buck can’t help the grin that threatens to split his face in too but he keeps his voice low, looking around anxiously, one eye out for Gerrard, but there’s no one in sight.

He looks back at Tommy and thinks fuck it. He drops the hose and throws his arms around Tommy’s neck, burying his face in his neck and breathing in his warm skin and the amber scent of his aftershave and telling himself he doesn’t actually want to cry with relief.

Tommy gives a little oof sound as he staggers back under the weight of Buck’s embrace.

“Good to see you too sweetheart,” he laughs, kissing Buck’s curls and wrapping his arms around him.

“Oh my god, I missed you so much,” Buck says, breathing him in again. “Mmm you smell so good.” He lifts his head from Tommy’s neck and kisses him softly, then less softly as a wave of desperate heat washes over him. He deepens the kiss, running his tongue along the seam of Tommy’s lips, hot and demanding.

Tommy grins against his lips and kisses him back hard, breath hot against his mouth, hands in his hair.

That’s when it dawns on Buck that the engine is conveniently just out of sight, pulled around the side of the firehouse and the rest of the crew are occupied with the various bullshit jobs Gerrard has assigned them and a terrible, brilliant and somewhat familiar plan begins to form in his mind.

Read more below or on AO3

He pushes Tommy back against the side of the engine, one hand on his broad chest and the other on the side of the truck above Tommy’s head, leaning over him, kissing him harder, shoving a hand under his t-shirt to press against his warm, solid body.

Tommy actually whimpers, grinding down against the thigh Buck has pressed between his legs.

Buck smirks, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls back, reaches over Tommy’s head and opens the door to the engine cab.

“Get in.”

Tommy looks at him, eyes widening. “Evan.”

Buck leans back in, pressing their lips together again. “Get in,” he repeats, grinning.

Tommy looks at him doubtfully for a second and Buck grabs his hips, pulling him forward, grinding his achingly hard cock against Tommy’s own obvious erection.

Tommy moans, eyes darkening and then his strong hands are on Buck’s ass and he’s lifting him up and shoving him into the cab.

***

Buck locks eyes with him, straddling his lap, bracing his hands on the driver’s seat behind Tommy’s head, fingers digging into the leather as he slides down onto Tommy’s thick cock, moaning with relief at the stretch as he bottoms out. It feels like it’s been months not days since he last had Tommy inside him. His head falls back as he chases the burn that flickers along the edge of too much and not enough. He shivers with pleasure, grinding down, circling his hips, mouth falling open as Tommy hits his prostate and his cock jumps in his lap, spurting precum over Tommy’s abs.

He leans back against the dash, showing off a little, preening as Tommy’s mouth falls open and he runs rough, calloused hands over his abs, still looking a little stunned to find himself here with Buck, naked and eager, bouncing on his cock.

“Jesus fuck—look at you—fuck—,” Tommy breathes, sounding awestruck. “God you take my cock so well baby. Like you were made for it.” He tilts his hips, chasing a better angle, making Buck cry out and slam his hands on the ceiling of the cab, scrabbling for leverage. “You really needed this huh sweetheart? Needed me inside you? Filling you up?”

“Oh f-fuck yes, you-you-ah you feel so good,” Buck moans. “God I missed this. Missed you s-so much.”

Tommy grips his ass, dragging him forward again, pulling him down on his cock.

Buck grins at him, feeling a bit insane, delirious and debauched with the way Tommy looks at him, eyes almost black in the half light. His thigh muscles flex, rock hard cock slapping rhythmically against his stomach, leaking as he bounces in Tommy’s lap, letting out little broken cries every time his cock hits just right and lights him up inside.

Tommy slides both hands up his broad back, big fingers digging into his muscles. Buck still can’t get over how huge his hands feel, how much of him they seem to touch at once.

“My sweet boy,” Tommy murmurs, as if Buck really is something breathtaking, something precious. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Buck gasps, a flush rushing up his whole body, at Tommy’s words. He dives back in to kiss him again, licking into his mouth, plunging his hands into Tommy’s hair. Sweat prickles across his flushed skin and up his neck.

He moans again, louder than is probably advisable even with the door closed, and spreads his legs wider either side of Tommy’s thighs, slamming his hands against the ceiling of the cab as Tommy thrusts into him, his mouth finding Buck’s neck, kissing down his throat, open mouthed and wet. He bites gently along the tendon as he moves up, smearing kisses across the bolt of his jaw to his lips, licking into his mouth with a moan, demanding and filthy.

“Oh my god, fuck—fuck—fuu—,” Buck chants mindlessly as Tommy fucks into him, one huge arm wrapped around his back, holding him flush against him, fingers slipping on sweaty skin.

Buck reaches blindly between them for his own aching cock but Tommy slaps his hand away.

“No baby, no touching.”

Buck whines, wriggling against Tommy’s thick cock, crying out as he nails his prostate, making him see stars.

“Oh fuck,” Tommy groans. “That tight little ass feels so good baby. I wanna see you come all over yourself. God, look how wet you are for me,” Tommy smirks and reaches down to run a finger up the length of Bucks cock, through the stream of precum drooling from the tip.

Buck hisses, hips jerking as he chases his touch, transfixed by Tommy’s huge hands on him “Please…” he gasps, grinding down on Tommy’s cock, barely knowing what he’s begging for.

“Please what?”

“Please…I need, I—I—I want to come so bad, please daddy.”

Tommy smirks, raising his finger to Buck’s mouth and pressing it against his kiss swollen lips. Buck moans, darting out his tongue, sucking on the thick finger pushing into his mouth, curling his tongue around it, tasting himself mingled with the soapy clean taste of Tommy’s skin.

“Mmm good boy,” Tommy smiles slyly and Buck keens as a shiver runs through him at the praise.

Tommy runs a finger up his cock again, teasing and slow. Buck gasps, trembling in his arms, thigh muscles burning.

Tommy grabs both his hands and holds them behind his back. “Make yourself cum on my cock,” he says and Buck almost chokes, diving back in to stick his tongue down Tommy’s throat, arching his back as he grinds on his cock, shuddering with need.

“Want to see you make a mess of yourself,” Tommy says darkly, gripping his hands tighter.

“Cum for me sweet boy.”

“Uhh—uh—god fuck yes, yes daddy. Fuck I’m gonna—” Buck shudders against him, mouth open, cock jumping as his orgasm hits him like a freight train, thick white ropes of cum shooting between them, splattering against his throat as his head falls back.

Tommy’s hips stutter, fucking into him desperately as he chases his own climax, cumming inside Buck with a cry.

Buck falls forward against Tommy’s chest, utterly boneless, mind blank and quiet for the first time in days.

Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it 😊 If you would like to be tagged in my fic posts let me know! ❤️

[yanderes-galore]

Hiii! Absolutely in love with your writing! Never thought you'd ever write for Helluva Boss or Hazbin Hotel. Out of your top fandoms, may I propose that the reader is immune to Vox's hypnosis? Having this rare ability, they try escaping the V tower but it ends up being the biggest mistake. This TV seems to be possessive and canonically a control freak like a lot of TV based characters (looking at you Mr. Puzzles) lol! I know you're a busy person with their own life in the end of the day so I won't be mad if you refuse to write this. I love the content you provide us with already <3

Sure! I wasn't sure if you wanted a concept or a one shot, so I just focused on rambling out my thoughts on it. It could work either way though so maybe I'll follow this up sometime.

Yandere! Vox with Darling immune to hypnosis

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Violence, Anger issues, Kidnapping/Post-Kidnapping, Stalking, Possessive behavior, Mentions of Val's smoke/Drugging, Forced relationship.

It's hard to say who, at this time, has immunity to Vox's hypnotism.

It's currently only known to grab the attention of people who are... paying attention.

So, maybe you're oblivious or just never paying attention to his hypnotism.

Which in itself is incredibly frustrating to Vox.

However, another method is natural immunity.

I'm thinking maybe you're also an Overlord that has to, unfortunately, have meetings with The Vees due to a partnership.

Vox probably still outranks you, yet you're strong enough to resist his powers.

Another option is simply having a specific type of gear or tech you created that blocks his hypnotism.

Regardless... One way or another Vox can't use one of his most powerful tools on you...

Which naturally makes him pissy.

He can't do his usual subtle charms against you, carefully manipulating you into listening and being his.

Even when he captures you, you never seem to listen.

Normally it's easy for Vox to make other demons listen to him.

Unless they're Valentino or Alastor.

But now he has yet another demon who can just... ignore it.

He has so many fits when he tries to trick you into something, only for you to shut him down.

It's humbling and he hates it.

So, if Vox wants to keep you in the V Tower, he has to expect more resistance.

In fact, normally escape attempts would be amusing as he can just charm you again.

But now he can't do that.

I feel your immunity would stress Vox out at times.

Even if he manages to manipulate you into V Tower, keeping you there is difficult.

Vox is naturally charming, so you may agree with what he says at first.

Hell, maybe you two were dating before things went wrong or at the very least on friendly terms.

Then he goes crazy and locks you in your own personal room with high security and everything.

Vox was once drawn to (and frustrated with) you due to your immunity.

That was what got him obsessed in the first place before he started having all these... feelings.

Sinful feelings.

You're distracting, even more so when he can't charm you to give him attention.

So what better way to force your attention than manipulate you into the tower.

Maybe you were meant to be another V, but once you had enough of Vox and his obsessive behavior, you tried to leave.

Only for Vox to lock you away.

As he can't charm his way into making you listen, now he has to keep you by other means.

Such as cameras, screens, electronic locks, all sorts of security.

Fine... You may be able to bypass his hypnosis...

But he has other means to keep you his.

The issue he ends up finding though is a lack of affection.

He can't charm you into giving it to him.

You ignore him and no matter how hard he tries... You never pay attention.

Considering how Vox thrives on attention...

This is devastating and leaves him screaming in frustration.

One way I can see him forcing you to be more... attentive is using Val.

Vox would probably somehow get Val to give him some of his smoke/spit.

Disgusting and disturbing? Yes... but that's the point.

Vox seems like the type of person to control you in other ways, since he loves control.

If you tried to escape your high security prison, or withheld affection from Vox, you're essentially getting gassed/drugged.

He most likely would test it with just a bit.

Then afterwards, depending on his mood, would up the dosage.

(This makes my skin crawl-)

Of course, escape was never going to end well for you.

Vox will find some way to break you.

Be that showing you his security, using Val, or isolating you...

Vox is going to force your attention to make you rely on him.

There's no genuine love with him.

Only ownership.

Escaping is near impossible with his coworkers, employees, and security.

At some point, you'll break and only have him to greet you...

Leaving Vox to embrace you with eager arms, his claws digging into your skin once you're finally his.

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Ten: Truth

Chapter WC: 8,808

Chapter Tags/Warnings: none

A/N: Checked the wordcount on the completed chapters doc today and it's over 100k already?? anyway the next few chapters are for real my fav. i live for the drama

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Coruscant, 21 BBY

"I can't believe they gave me Archive duty," Ahsoka groans, rolling her eyes. 

You smirk, turning the page of the dusty tomb lying in front of you. You had managed to escape the ire of the Council thanks to Obi-Wan, but Ahsoka was not so lucky. She was sentenced to "volunteer work" at the Temple Archives indefinitely, a punishment that she seemed to take very personally. 

You had offered to keep her company while you were still recovering, and you had to admit, when you weren’t forced to be here, it was kind of fun. There was something calming about the Archives, the smell of old paper and leather, the dim light, the quiet.

You'd spent more time here than most other Jedi, and even though the work was often tedious, it was something you found peace in. Ahsoka didn't seem to feel the same.

"It's not that bad," you say, your eyes scanning the page. "Besides, if you hadn't disobeyed Anakin, this wouldn't have happened."

"Well, maybe, if he hadn't given the order in the first place—"

"Ahsoka."

"I know, I know," she sighs, her shoulders slumping. She pushes the crate she was organizing to the side and collapses on a nearby bench, her arms crossed. "He's just...so frustrating sometimes."

"Yeah," you chuckle. “He is.”

“Did you ever feel that way about Master Yaddle?"

"Sometimes," you reply. You glance up from your reading and smile at her. "But I’m sure I frustrated her much more. I’m still not sure why she took me as her Padawan, honestly."

"Because you're a great Jedi," Ahsoka points out. She grins and leans forward, her chin resting on her hands. "And, because, despite what you say, you're actually pretty nice."

"Nice?"

"Yeah," she laughs. "You're one of the few Jedi I can talk to about things. You listen. Not everyone does."

"You could talk to Master Plo, or Anakin, or even Obi-Wan," you say, closing the book. You look at her, a frown on your face. "There's a lot more Jedi in the Temple."

"I know, but..." Her voice trails off, and her expression grows sad, the humor fading. “You’re the only one who’s not trying to teach me some kind of lesson. Who isn’t expecting something from me. You don't care that I'm young, or that I'm not a real Jedi yet, or—"

"You are a real Jedi," you interrupt. You stand and walk over to her, taking a seat beside her, your hands resting on your knees. "Don't ever doubt that. I don't. I know how strong you are, and I know what you're capable of. And, so does Anakin. Don't let this one mistake define you."

She sighs and rests her elbows on her thighs, her chin cupped in her palms. "I know, but it's hard," she says quietly. "Everyone has an opinion, and they're all just waiting for me to mess up again. To prove that I'm not fit to be a Jedi."

"That's not true," you tell her. "The Council might be a little disappointed with your actions, but no one doubts that you belong here, Ahsoka. No one."

She doesn't respond.

You watch her carefully, your brow furrowed. It isn’t lost on you how similar her words are to your own internal monologue, and how often she mirrors your own thoughts and fears. She’s just a kid, and you remember being her age, the pressure, the weight of expectation, and the struggle to be enough.

While you doubt you’ll ever feel like you measure up, or will ever stop feeling like an outsider, you know, deep down, that no matter what happens, the Order is where you belong. You belong with the Jedi. There is no other place for you than here.

"If it makes you feel any better," you say, trying to lighten the mood. You nudge her shoulder. “You’re only continuing the tradition of disobedience set by your Masters before you. Anakin, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon—“ you pause and let out a sharp breath before continuing “—and his master have all done their time here. Practically a rite of passage, I’d say.”

She rolls her eyes and nudges you back. "You're not funny."

"Sure I am."

“You can’t honestly expect me to believe Master Kenobi ever had to do this," she scoffs. "I mean, he's like, the perfect Jedi."

"Ha! Well, I guess you'd be surprised." 

You smirk, remembering the many times Obi-Wan had come to your aid during your years as younglings, covering for you and, often, getting himself into just as much trouble as you.

It was always Obi-Wan, with his clever words and quick wit, who got the two of you out of hot water, and you always found it amusing how no one seemed to realize it was him who had started the whole thing. It was like people couldn’t see past the image they had of him, or their assumptions, and it made him the perfect accomplice. 

"We caused plenty of chaos back in the day,” you add with a fond smile. "I can't even begin to tell you all the stories I could share. I have years worth of them."

"Oh really?"

"Yep," you confirm. "Obi-Wan was a terror."

Ahsoka snorts and raises an eyebrow. "Now I know you're lying."

"It's true. He was a troublemaker. Still is, if I'm being honest,” you laugh. "We were the worst influences on each other. That's probably why we became such good friends."

"I can't imagine Master Obi-Wan doing anything even close to disobeying the rules," Ahsoka says. She leans forward, her chin in her palms, a mischievous grin on her face. You smile back and cross your legs, settling into the bench. "I'm going to need proof, or a story. Either will do."

"What do you want to hear?"

"Something crazy," she prompts. "Something he would never tell me. Something wild. And then I'll believe it."

You chuckle and lean back against the wall, your eyes drifting, the memories filling your mind. You could think of a hundred different tales, many of them far too embarrassing to repeat, and most of them you doubted would be appropriate to tell an impressionable teenager. You were not the best storyteller, but if Ahsoka wanted entertainment, you could oblige. If only a little.

"Okay, okay, let's see..." you muse, thinking. "Okay, here's one. When I was thirteen years old, Obi-Wan was a newly made Padawan, and I was still a youngling. One day, we had a day off from training, and, well, let's just say, we weren't exactly sticking around the Temple."

"Where did you go?"

"Well, Obi-Wan had heard about this place," you continue, smiling. "Apparently, there was this abandoned warehouse deep in the lower levels, converted it into a kind of club. It was the coolest thing we had ever seen, and we were determined to get in. Only problem was, we were a bit too young. Not that that stopped us. We had been going to this club, sneaking out, for about a week, before a member of the Jedi Council caught us."

"Which one?"

"Master Plo, actually,” you say, a smirk tugging at your lips. "We got lucky. I think he was more impressed than upset."

Ahsoka lets out a snort and covers her mouth. "No."

"Yes," you insist. "He caught us sneaking out of the Temple and followed us. We made it all the way to the warehouse before we realized he was right behind us."

"How did you get away with it?"

"We didn't," you chuckle. "I think we had a few choice words with the Council that night. But we got to go back to the club a few more times before we were caught again. Obi-Wan managed to get himself banned a few months later, though. Something about trying to fight a guy over a girl."

You look away, biting your cheek. Ahsoka didn't need to know that you were the girl. That it was the first, and the only time that the two of you had kissed. You were both so young, and it was nothing more than a childish attempt at romance. It was a bittersweet memory, tinged with a touch of guilt, and you had long ago buried it.

"I'll have to ask him about that," she teases. "I bet there's a lot more stories he'd never tell me."

"You can try," you challenge. "Good luck."

"What was he like?" Ahsoka asks. She shifts on the bench, turning her body toward you, her eyes sparkling. "Before he was a Knight, or a Master, or...all that. What was he like back then?"

"He was different," you tell her. You hesitate, your brow furrowing, and you shrug. "He was...happier. More carefree. He didn't take things as seriously as he does now."

"He's still pretty carefree," Ahsoka points out. She tilts her head, her gaze growing thoughtful, and a small frown tugs at her lips. "I've never really seen him angry, or upset. Except for when you were in the bacta tank."

You pause. You hadn't thought much about Obi-Wan while you were recovering. Your mind had been a bit preoccupied with other matters, but now, looking back, you had noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and the tension in his shoulders, and the way his jaw clenched every time someone brought up the battle. It had only been a week since your return, and yet, he seemed to have aged ten years, and the worry was still plain on his face. 

Even now, there was still a distance, a coldness, between the two of you. He hadn't been by the Healers Ward again, and he'd avoided you at the debriefing with the Council even though he'd spoken in your favor.

"He was worried," you say simply. You glance down at your hands and twist your fingers, swallowing the sudden tightness in your throat.

"I’m sure you’ve noticed that we share a bond. Something like a Master and Padawan bond. It's stronger, because we were raised together, and because our abilities complement each other, and, well, because we've spent our whole lives together."

"What is it like?" she asks. Her eyes are wide, and she's listening intently, her attention focused on you. "Having a bond with someone? Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes," you confess. You let out a heavy sigh, and you look down, your expression troubled. "When the other person is in danger, or suffering, it can be difficult to deal with. And, sometimes, it can be overwhelming. Obi-Wan is quite skilled at shielding, but...I’m not so fortunate. I’m sure feeling my pain was not easy for him."

It’s an excuse, and you know it. But the truth was much harder to admit. Obi-Wan being upset enough at your injuries that Ahsoka had picked up on it was an uncomfortable thought. The reality of how deeply you had hurt him, and the fact that you hadn’t even considered how he would feel, was not something you were prepared to deal with. Not right now. Perhaps not ever.

"You're close," she comments, her voice soft. She hesitates, and she gives you a sad smile, her eyes searching yours. "I...I don't have a bond with Anakin. Not like you and Master Kenobi. I've always wondered what it would be like."

"It's strange," you reply slowly. You shrug and give her a rueful smile. "It’s been this way for so long, and I just...I don't know. I don't know what it's like not to have it. The closest we ever came to losing it completely was after..."

You trail off, your smile fading, and you turn away, unable to meet her eyes. "After the Naboo incident. Things were never the same, after that."

Ahsoka doesn't say anything.

You can't blame her. You don't have the words. There's so much left unsaid, so much you could tell her, but you know you won't. It's not the right time. Perhaps it will never be the right time. And so, instead, you change the subject, pushing the pain and the regret away, burying it under the weight of a smile. 

"What else do you want to know?"

Ahsoka's gaze grows thoughtful, and she leans back, resting her head against the wall, her brow furrowed. She looks up, and her lips purse, her fingers tapping against her thighs. 

Finally, she smiles, a wicked glint in her eyes. "What about Rex?"

Your eyes widen, and you can feel the color draining from your face, the shock making you speechless. You hadn't expected that question, and it takes a moment for you to regain your composure, your mind scrambling to think of a response. But Ahsoka doesn't wait. 

Instead, she keeps talking, the grin growing. "Rex told Anakin that you had saved his life."

"Yes," you say cautiously. You frown, and you cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. "And?"

"Well," she draws the word out, and she sits up, her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped. "Anakin said he'd never seen you act like that before."

You open your mouth to respond, and then close it, unsure of what to say.

"So," she presses. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Friends."

"Yes," you snap. "Of course we're friends. He's a friend. We're friends. Is that a problem?"

"No, no," she replies quickly. "Of course not."

"Good."

"But—"

"Ahsoka," you interrupt, and you let out a sharp breath, your fingers rubbing your temples. "There is no but. Rex is a friend. I saved his life. End of story."

"Sure," she agrees. Her expression is far too innocent, and you're not going to play into whatever she's thinking. You stand and return to the table, picking up the book, and Ahsoka follows, sitting down next to you. "I just thought, maybe, there was something else."

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know," she says, feigning nonchalance. She pulls another book off the pile and begins leafing through the pages, a casual, carefree tone to her voice. "He's been asking about you."

Your head snaps up, and you stare at her, the shock giving way to surprise, and then hope, the flutter in your chest returning. "He has?"

Realizing your mistake, you bite your cheek and look back down at the book, your heart pounding, and your throat suddenly dry. You swallow, and you try to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks,and the feeling in your chest. 

Rex had been asking about you. He had talked to Anakin about you. Those were perfectly normal, innocent, things for him to do. Nothing strange. Nothing to indicate anything more.

"Mmhmm," Ahsoka hums, her eyes flicking up, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. She looks back down, the grin growing, and she nudges your shoulder. "He was worried the Council was going to punish you for saving him."

"That's it?"

"I'm not sure," she muses. She tilts her head, her fingers drumming against the book, her expression thoughtful. "He seemed pretty concerned. More than he normally is."

You shake your head and lean forward, pretending to be engrossed in the text.

"I'm sure he was just being polite," you mumble. You keep your eyes on the page, but your mind is elsewhere, and the words blur before your eyes. You force yourself to keep reading, not daring to look up. "I doubt he was all that worried."

"Hm," Ahsoka says.

You wait a few more moments, and then, when Ahsoka doesn't speak, you glance over at her. She's looking at you, her lips pursed, a knowing smile on her face. You stare at her, and she stares back, and finally, you roll your eyes, letting out a sigh.

"Fine," you grumble. You shut the book and shove it away, leaning back in the chair, your arms crossed. "We are friends, and I enjoy his company. Is that what you want to hear?"

Ahsoka shrugs and grins, and you can't help the smile tugging at your lips.

"He's a good person," she says. She's not looking at you anymore, but she's smiling, and you can tell she's holding back a laugh. "Very loyal."

"Yes, he is," you agree. You look away, a frown forming, and your voice drops. "And a good soldier."

There's a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, a heaviness, a sudden sadness that you hadn't expected. You're not sure what brought it on, but it's there, a reminder of the truth, of the reality. You swallow the lump in your throat, and you glance down, your fingers tracing the cover of the book, a strange numbness settling in.

"Yeah." Ahsoka looks at you, and her brow furrows, the teasing tone gone. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you lie. You force a smile and shrug. "Everything's fine."

"You're sure?" she asks. She looks skeptical, her head tilted, and she frowns. "You look...upset."

"I'm not."

"You don't have to lie," she says. She shifts in her chair, and she turns to face you, her hand resting on your arm, her expression earnest. "If there's something wrong, you can tell me. I won't judge."

"I know," you reply softly. "But there's nothing to tell. I'm fine."

She doesn't believe you. You can tell by the way she's looking at you, her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. Ahsoka doesn't press the issue, though, and you're grateful for that. You don't want to talk about it, and, honestly, you're not sure if you can. Or, if, when the words come out, they'll sound as stupid as they do in your head.

"Now," you say, and you push yourself up, grabbing a crate. You walk over to the other side of the room and begin sorting through the books, setting them on the shelves. "Let's get back to work."

"Ugh, not more sorting."

"It's your punishment," you point out. "Besides, I've had enough excitement for one day. I could use some boring, manual labor."

"I guess," Ahsoka mutters.

You laugh, and you return to your task, the quiet settling over the room. Ahsoka sighs and does the same, and the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon in silence, only occasionally exchanging a few words. 

The sun begins to set, and the shadows grow, and soon, the entire room is bathed in the orange glow of the sunset, the warmth filling the air. It's peaceful, and comfortable, and it's exactly what you need. No drama. No complications. No one trying to get into your head, or telling you how to live your life. It's the kind of solitude you haven't had in a long time, and, even if you can't enjoy it for long, it's a nice respite from the chaos.

You're not sure how much time has passed, or how long the two of you have been working, but the silence is broken when the door slides open. You turn and watch as Obi-Wan enters the room, a smile on his face, his hands tucked in his sleeves. He greets the both of you and comes to stand beside the table, his attention focused on you. His expression is serious, his eyes searching, and you avoid his gaze.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he says, his voice polite, and his words carefully chosen. You can tell he's uncomfortable, and it makes you uneasy. "I was hoping I might have a word with you, if you're not too busy."

"Of course," you reply.

You look over at Ahsoka, who’s staring at the two of you, her gaze flicking between you, and she smirks, standing and grabbing the crate she had been organizing. "I'll give you some privacy."

"Thank you."

She leaves the room, leaving you and Obi-Wan alone, the quiet a heavy, uncomfortable, thing. You don't know what to say, or what to do, and it's an awkward few moments before he breaks the silence, clearing his throat, his hands moving to clasp behind his back.

"I was wondering how you were," he says. He takes a step toward you, and he hesitates, his eyes dropping. "I haven't seen much of you these past few days."

"Yes," you mumble. You cross your arms and shrug, avoiding his gaze. "I've been, um, busy. You know. Helping with the Archives. And healing."

"I see."

There's another pause.

"So," he says. "Are you feeling better? Has the Healers Ward released you yet?"

"They released me a few days ago," you tell him as you turn, walking over to the window, your fingers brushing along the ledge. "They were quite happy with my recovery. It didn't take long for me to heal."

"That's good."

"And, I feel fine," you add, turning to look at him. "I've been back in training for a few days now."

"Good."

"Good."

"Well," he says. He steps forward and stops, his hand on the back of a chair, his expression guarded. "I'm glad you're back on your feet."

"Yes," you murmur. "It's, uh, it's good to be back."

He gives you a curt nod, and you nod back, and then there's another long, agonizing, silence. You look at him, and he looks at you, and when it becomes too much, you turn away, your fingers tracing the window frame, the metal cool beneath your fingertips.

"You said you wanted to speak with me?" you ask the window.

"Yes."

You hear him take a deep breath, and when you look over your shoulder, he's staring at the floor, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. It's strange to see him so...distraught. So unsure of himself.

"I came to apologize," he says quietly. He crosses his arms, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "For my actions the other day. I was not myself, and I should not have acted as I did."

"Oh," you murmur.

"I was...wrong to have treated you as I did. You didn't deserve it. And I was out of line."

You let out a sigh and close your eyes. "Obi-Wan..."

"Please," he interrupts, and his tone is pleading, and it stops you. "I need to say this."

"Alright," you say. You move away from the window, and you lean against the table, your arms crossed and your brow furrowed. "Say what you need to."

"I was angry," he admits, and the words hang in the air, heavy and sharp. He pauses and takes a breath, and you can tell he's choosing his words carefully. "I was upset. You have no idea how much it hurt, seeing you like that. Lying there, unconscious. Not knowing if you would make it. I..."

He trails off, and he looks away, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"And I know," he continues. He looks back up, his eyes meeting yours, and you can't help but see the pain, the hurt, the desperation. "I know that you would do it again, if given the choice. And I can't blame you for it. But it doesn't make it any easier."

"Obi-Wan," you murmur. You can feel your eyes burning, and you swallow the sudden lump in your throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"I know," he says. "I know."

"I wasn't thinking. I was acting on instinct, and—"

"I know," he repeats, his voice gentle. "It was not your fault. You did what was right, and, had it been anyone else, I would have been proud. You saved a life. That is something to be celebrated. But...you're not just anyone."

"I can't promise that I won't do it again," you tell him. "If the situation arises, I won't hesitate to save another soldier. Even if they're not a Jedi. Or a friend."

He smiles, a small, sad thing, and he nods. 

"I wouldn't expect any less," he says. He steps toward you, and he takes your hand, squeezing gently. "It is, after all, one of the many reasons I admire you."

You can't help the smirk tugging at your lips. "Well, that, and dazzling personality and my good looks, right?"

"Among others," he teases. His expression grows solemn, and he glances down, his thumb running over your knuckles. "I'm sorry. For everything. I'm sure the last thing you need is for me to be acting as I was."

"Well, with the amount of tantrums Anakin and I have thrown over the years, it's only fair that you get to have one every once in a while."

Obi-Wan grimaces and shakes his head "Please, don't remind me."

"You're not still mad, are you?" you ask. He tilts his head, a faint frown pulling at his lips. "I mean, you're not going to lecture me again, are you?"

"No," he replies, his tone wry. "Not today."

"Good."

"You're not completely forgiven, though."

"What?"

"I'm afraid that, if we're ever in a similar situation," he continues, his voice casual, his eyes narrowing, "and if you ever make me think you're dying again, I will be forced to have a very stern conversation with you."

You roll your eyes. "Obi-Wan..."

"I mean it," he insists. "I'll have no choice."

"Well," you drawl. You pull your hand free and push yourself away from the table, crossing your arms. "If I die, and you feel the need to lecture my corpse, by all means, go right ahead. I won't stop you."

He gives you a flat look, and you hold back a smile, raising an eyebrow.

"We'll see," he says finally. His lips twitch, and he sighs, rubbing his forehead. "In all seriousness, though, I am sorry. For everything. I was unfair, and I shouldn't have blamed you. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you."

"No," you agree softly. "You shouldn't have."

"I know," he sighs. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to grasp your elbow, his touch gentle. "I don't want us to be like this. We've fought enough over the years. I want you to know that I trust you, and despite my fears, and the concerns I have, I will always support you. Whatever decisions you make."

You let out a breath, and his hand moves, sliding up your arm, coming to rest on the back of your neck. He gives you a smile, and there's a flicker of regret and sorrow before he pulls you forward, his forehead resting against yours. His grip tightens, and you put your hands on his waist, holding onto him.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"I'll always be here for you," he says softly. "Whenever you need me."

You smile and lift your chin, brushing your lips across his cheek, a fleeting, brief, touch. "And I'll always be here for you. Whatever you need."

He chuckles and squeezes your neck, his breath warm on your skin. "I appreciate the sentiment."

"Now," you murmur, and you pull away, your hands moving to rest on his chest. "What I really need right now is a stiff drink."

He raises an eyebrow. "That is not what you need right now."

"But it would help," you insist. "A lot."

"No."

"C'mon," you beg, your hands curling in the fabric of his tunic. You give him a pout, and he groans, his eyes closing. "It'll be fun. Just like old times."

"You are not getting me into any more trouble than I'm already in," he says. He pulls your hands off of him, and he holds them in his, a stern look on his face. "The Council has already spoken to me about your reckless behavior. I'd prefer not to give them more reason to doubt me."

"They won't know," you promise. You squeeze his hands, your eyes bright. "We'll be careful."

"You don't know how to be careful."

"Then teach me," you counter, a smirk playing on your lips.

He lets out a sigh, and his brow furrows, his mouth twisting. You can see the temptation in his eyes, the desire to give in, and it's only a matter of time before you convince him. He hesitates, glancing over at the door. "It is late. Most people should be gone by now."

"See?" you say. "Easy. Quick drink. No one will see."

"Fine," he concedes. "But we will not be staying long."

"Thank you."

You release his hands and step back, your fingers lacing together, your grin widening. Obi-Wan gives you an exasperated look and gestures for you to go, and you laugh and start to back away.

"I'll meet you at the usual place," you tell him. You turn and head for the door, calling over your shoulder. "Don't keep me waiting."

"Wouldn't dream of it!" he calls out, his tone amused. "Just...don't get us caught."

"Never," you promise.

You're through the door and gone before he can say anything else, and the moment you're alone, you take a deep breath and run a hand through your hair. It's not until you're nearly to your quarters that the nerves begin to settle in, and the excitement gives way to apprehension, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You're still a bit wary of Obi-Wan's sudden change in mood. It's unlike him to act like he did, and to be so openly hostile. And, as much as you'd like to believe that everything is alright, that things were fine, there was still something gnawing at the back of your mind. 

The look on his face when you told him how you saved Rex's life was burned into your memory. You couldn't help but be reminded of how he looked at you the day after your knighting, when you'd told him your plan to find Yaddle's killer, and he'd treated you like a child.

It was the same, the same disdain and anger, the same look of disappointment, and the same, cold, distance. The only difference was, this time, you hadn't done anything wrong. You had saved a life. There was nothing for him to be disappointed about.

But the look was there, the same unspoken accusation. And it stung.

It’s only then that you realize he’d neglected to let his walls down during the conversation. There had been no opening, no chance to see into his mind. No moment of vulnerability. You hadn’t noticed, and now, you couldn’t understand why. It didn't make sense.

Obi-Wan had never kept his thoughts and feelings hidden from you before. He had never been afraid to show his emotions, or his pain. It was always you who'd had trouble with it, who'd struggled with letting him see the truth. He was the one who always opened up.

And now, he wasn't. 

You shake the thought from your mind and continue on, ignoring the unease growing in your chest. He'd apologized then, and he apologized now, and he meant it. You didn't need the Force to know that. And he'd agreed to sneak out with you, which was more than he would have done if he was truly upset with you.

You would have a nice evening, and nothing else would happen. And tomorrow, the two of you would move on. Everything would go back to normal.

You reach your quarters, and you let yourself in, making a beeline for the fresher. You don't waste any time and strip out of your robes, stepping under the hot spray, and you wash quickly, rinsing the day's grime and sweat off. The water cascades down your body, washing the tension away, the warmth enveloping you, and for the first time in days, you can breathe, the knot in your chest loosening.

Once you're finished, you dry yourself and step back into the room, rummaging through the pile of clothes haphazardly thrown in your dresser. You pull out a simple shirt and a pair of pants, and you dress, slipping on a pair of boots and a cropped leather jacket. It's been too long since you've dressed so casually, and it feels odd, like you're not yourself. But, it's also a refreshing change from stifling robes.

You comb your hair, pulling the wet strands back into a loose braid, and you're ready. You check the time and grab a few credits from the dresser, shoving them into your pocket, and you're out the door.

You arrive at the bar a short while later, and you spot Obi-Wan sitting in the corner, a glass in his hand and his attention on the crowd. He sees you and smiles, and you make your way through the room, the noise and the heat hitting you. He's wearing civilian clothes, his hair loose around his face, his beard trimmed, and he looks almost relaxed. Almost.

You reach the table and slide into the seat across from him, his gaze appraising. You can't help but blush, and you cross your arms, giving him a look.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing," he replies. His eyes linger on yours for a moment longer, and then they trail over the rest of your body, his lips quirking. "It's just been a while since I've seen you like this. It's...refreshing."

"Well," you say, leaning forward. You lower your voice, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "I wouldn't want to draw any attention to myself."

He chuckles, and his eyes sparkle with amusement, a glint of something else in their depths. "I appreciate the effort."

You smile and reach over, plucking his glass from his hand. He doesn't protest, and you take a sip, the liquor burning as it goes down. You set the glass back on the table, and his gaze lingers, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You raise an eyebrow and stare at him, and he shakes his head, pushing himself up.

"I'm going to get another drink," he says. He nods his head towards the bar. "Would you like one?"

"Yes, please."

"I'll be right back."

He leaves, and you watch him walk away, and the moment he's out of earshot, you groan, the realization of what you'd done, and where you were, setting in. It was bad enough that the two of you had snuck off to a cantina together, and were dressed like this, but it was even worse that it felt...odd. Strange. And you weren't sure why. It was the same as every other time you'd met him for drinks, and yet, it wasn't.

There was something different. Something...off. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but it was there, and it made you uneasy. Like the calm before a storm.

"Hey," someone says.

You turn and see a man standing next to the table, a bottle of something in his hand, his smile friendly. You can't help the sigh that escapes you. It was going to be one of those nights.

"Hey," you reply. Your eyes drop, and you frown, the words on the bottle blurring. It's some sort of liquor, and a cheap one at that. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm hoping I could buy a beautiful woman a drink," he says. He sets the bottle down and pulls out the chair, sitting. You glance around the room, looking for Obi-Wan. There's no sign of him. "And, maybe, have a chat. Get to know each other."

"Look," you begin, and your voice is strained, the exhaustion starting to creep in. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not—"

"C'mon," he insists. He grabs the bottle and opens it, pouring a shot. He pushes it towards you, a grin on his face. "Just one drink."

"No, thank you."

“You won’t regret it.”

“No.”

"One drink," he repeats. He lifts the glass and nods, and when you don't move, his smile fades. "Don't be rude."

"Oh, I'm being rude?" you snap. You stand, and you tower over him, your hand on the table. He stares up at you, his mouth hanging open. "I've had a long week, and I'm not in the mood. Now, leave me alone."

"Alright, alright," he mutters. He stands and picks up the bottle, backing away. "You don't have to get so upset."

You don't reply, and he turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd. You let out a breath and slump back into the chair, rubbing your forehead. It's not long before you're joined again, but this time, it's Obi-Wan who slides into the seat, a bottle and two glasses in his hand. He notices the look on your face, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Another admirer?"

"Yes," you mutter. You take the glass he offers and down it, and he stares at you, concern flickering across his features. "I guess I'm not used to the attention anymore."

"Hm," he hums. He takes the glass from you and refills it, his brow furrowing. "You shouldn't be out here like this. You're too..."

"What?"

"I just..." he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks down and frowns. "I worry."

"Obi-Wan, I'm not made of glass," you snap. "And I'm not some defenseless child. I'm not going to shatter because some idiot tries to hit on me."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

He looks at you, and he sighs, his eyes searching yours. He opens his mouth to speak, and you brace yourself for whatever he's going to say, knowing that it's going to be a lecture, or a reminder of why you shouldn't be out here. Of why you shouldn't be with him. That it's not safe. That it's a risk. 

But, he doesn't say any of those things. Instead, his eyes drop, and his jaw clenches, and when he finally speaks, it's a whisper, the words soft and gentle. 

"You're a beautiful woman. A powerful, intelligent, wonderful, woman," he says. He looks at you, his expression open, and you can't help the way your heart leaps into your throat. "You have an air of confidence and determination, and...you're breathtaking. It's impossible not to notice you. Especially here."

You gape at him, and his lips twitch, his eyes darkening, a hint of mischief in his gaze. "I can't blame him for trying. I would, too, if I were him."

You can feel the heat spreading across your cheeks, the flush creeping up your neck. He's always been honest with you, and open, but this is different. He's never said anything like this before. You feel yourself scrambling, trying to regain your composure, and when you do, you let out a shaky laugh.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," you say. You lean forward, your arms resting on the table, a smirk playing on your lips. "Is that jealousy I hear?"

"Not at all," he assures you, and the sincerity is almost believable. He leans closer, and his gaze drops, his voice low. "If anyone is jealous, it's him. He'll never have you. Not the way I do."

Your smirk widens, and you laugh, taking the bottle from his hand and pouring another shot. "Well, you have nothing to worry about. I'm here with you, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are."

You hold his gaze, and you down the shot, the alcohol burning. It's a dangerous game, and the both of you know it, and, as much as you want to keep pushing, and prodding, and testing his limits, you know better. It's best to let it go. It's best to move on. Besides, this was supposed to be fun.

"So," you say, pushing the bottle away, a small smile on your face. "Now that you're done worrying about me, can we finally have some fun? I didn't come here to sit and mope."

"Of course." He raises his glass and tilts his head. "To us."

"To us."

The rest of the evening is a blur. It passes in a haze of alcohol and laughter, the conversation turning to trivial things. There's no mention of the war, or Felucia, or the Council, and you're glad. You need a night off, and a break from everything, and you know Obi-Wan does too. The two of you have had so few chances to relax, and even fewer to spend time together. 

You find yourselves falling back into the routine of years past, and, as the evening wears on, the two of you become more and more carefree. You're laughing and teasing, and Obi-Wan's telling stories about his adventures as a young padawan, and your memories of the past come flooding back. The times the two of you have snuck off, and the things you've done, and the trouble you've gotten into. And it's nice. Comforting. To be with him, and to enjoy his company. Even if you know it can't last.

You've managed to drag Obi-Wan out onto the balcony, and the two of you are leaning against the railing, watching the people below, the wind ruffling your hair. You can feel his warmth, and his arm is pressing into yours, and the alcohol has left a pleasant buzz in your head. You're not quite drunk, but, judging by the flush in Obi-Wan's cheeks, he's further along than you are.

"I have a confession," he mutters. You raise an eyebrow, and he gives you a crooked smile. "I've missed this. Missed...us. Doing this. Being here."

"Yeah," you murmur. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze, his eyes bright. "I've missed this too."

"We should do it more often," he says. He reaches over and brushes a strand of hair from your cheek, his touch lingering, his thumb stroking your skin. "Spend time together. Outside the Temple."

"Obi-Wan."

"What?"

"Don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything," he counters. He turns to face you, his expression earnest, his voice soft. "I'm not saying that we should be together. Or that we should..." He trails off, and his eyes flick down, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features. "But, I've missed this. And, I think you have too."

"Obi-Wan..." You let out a breath and run a hand through your hair, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're...different," you explain. You shrug and turn away, looking out over the city. "It's not just tonight. You've been acting strange for weeks. Ever since Felucia. I just..." You shake your head sigh, glancing over at him. "Are you sure you're alright? That everything is okay?"

"Yes," he replies, and the reply is quick, and curt, and too easy. You stare at him, and he shrugs, a frown tugging at his lips. "I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You tell me," you snap. You turn and lean against the railing, crossing your arms, your glare hard. "Because, one minute, you're angry with me, and the next, you're...this. Tell me what's going on."

He holds your gaze for a moment, and then his eyes drop, his hand coming up to cover his face as a low groan escapes him.

"I don't know," he mutters. He takes a step closer and leans against the railing, his arm brushing against yours. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Obi-Wan..."

"I'm tired," he whispers. He looks over at you, his eyes sad, his voice hollow. "I'm tired of the war. I'm tired of the fighting. I'm tired of losing people. And...I'm tired of having to pretend."

"Pretend what?"

"Everything," he answers. His hand drops to the railing, his fingers curling around the metal, his grip tight. "Who I am. How I feel. What I'm thinking. What I want." He turns and looks at you, his eyes meeting yours, a flicker of emotion crossing his features. "What I want with you."

"And, how do you feel?" you ask softly. "What do you want with me?"

He swallows and turns away, his eyes focused on the skyline, and you can see the struggle in his face. He doesn't speak, and the silence grows heavy, and uncomfortable, and you let out a frustrated sigh.

"Obi-Wan—"

"I care for you. I have always cared for you. More than I should. More than is right."

He turns to face you, and there's a desperation in his eyes, and a longing, and you know where this is going. You know what he wants to say.

But, he doesn't. Instead, he sighs, his shoulders slumping, and he shakes his head.

"You mean the world to me, and I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me."

"You don't know that," he insists. He takes a step closer, and his hands are on your waist, his touch light, his gaze searching yours. "I'm not the only one who has changed."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're different, too," he says. His hands move, and they slide up your back, his thumbs brushing along your cheek. "The last few months have changed you. And I'm afraid of what will happen. What will change."

"Nothing's going to change," you promise, and your voice is low, and soft. "We're the same. We're just older. And wiser. And maybe a little more jaded. But, we're still the same. You're still the same man who was my first love, and I'm still the same girl who fell for him."

He smiles, a small, sad, thing, and he lets out a breath, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes close, and your hands move to his chest, the fabric warm and soft beneath your fingers, his heart beating steadily beneath your palm.

The tension in his body melts away, and his touch is gentle, his thumb stroking your cheek. You can't help but press closer, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight.

"I don't know what I would do without you," he murmurs. He lets out a shaky breath, and you can feel him trembling, the weight of the world, the pain and the fear, bearing down on him. "If anything happened to you, if I lost you..."

"You're not going to lose me," you repeat. You reach up and cup his cheek, your thumb running over his stubble, his beard rough against your skin. "I promise."

Obi-Wan doesn't say anything. Instead, he lets out a quiet, strangled, noise, and his lips are on yours, soft and warm and familiar. 

It's a desperate, needy, kiss, and it's all too easy to give in, to let yourself melt into him, his hands on your face and his mouth moving against yours. You haven't been kissed in years, and you haven't kissed him in even longer, and, despite your best efforts, you can't help but respond, your fingers sliding through his hair, a low moan escaping you.

His grip tightens, and his tongue is in your mouth, his body pressing against yours. You can't think, and you can't breathe, and you can feel his need, his desire, the emotions, raw and unguarded, spilling over. He's shaking, and his lips are insistent, and when he pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his eyes dark.

The two of you stare at each other, the silence stretching between you, and the gravity of the situation hits you. You've been friends for years, and you've been lovers, and now, here you are, on the precipice, and you're teetering on the edge. One more step, and there's no going back. One more step, and everything will change.

A sinking stone settles in the pit of your stomach, the fog of alcohol fleeing, and a wave of regret and shame crashing down. You can't believe what you've done. How far you've fallen. And how easily. After all the years you've spent avoiding each other, and trying to be friends, and now, here you are.

"We shouldn't have done that," you whisper. You push him away and take a step back, and he reaches out, his hand on your elbow. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"You're right," he says. His hand falls, and he looks away, a frown tugging at his lips. "We shouldn't have."

Obi-Wan runs a hand through his hair, his eyes closing, and he lets out a long breath. When he looks at you again, the guilt and the sadness in his eyes is gone, replaced by resignation. He reaches over and gives your shoulder a squeeze, his tone gentle. "Come on, let's go home."

You nod, and he releases you, stepping back. You can't meet his gaze, and you turn, your eyes fixed on the ground, the two of you making your way across the balcony. He keeps his distance, and you keep yours, the silence between you tense and heavy.

You're both back in the Temple a short while later, and Obi-Wan leads you back to your room, his pace quick. He stops outside the door, and his eyes meet yours.

“Will you be alright?” he asks, his brows furrowed.

“Yes,” you mutter. You can't meet his gaze, and you fidget, your eyes on the floor.

He sighs and lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Look," he says softly. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," you say. "I...shouldn't have let that happen."

"It's not your fault," he assures you. His thumb brushes across your cheek, and he gives you a smile. "We both let it get out of hand."

"Still, we shouldn't have..."

"No," he agrees. His hand falls, and he steps back, his smile turning wry. "We definitely shouldn't have."

You manage a weak smile, and his eyes soften.

"I meant to say this before," he starts. "I didn't want to interrupt the moment. But, I meant it."

"Meant what?"

"What I said earlier," he clarifies. He clears his throat and looks down, his gaze fixed on his shoes, his words hesitant. "I...don't want to lose you. I don't think I could bear it. And...I'll do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen."

"You're not going to lose me," you promise. You smile and grab his hand, squeezing his fingers, your voice soft. "I'll always be here."

He squeezes back, his eyes soft. "I know you're still struggling with Master Yaddle's death, and everything that's happened, and, well, I'm here. It's not much, but my clearance can help. If there's something you need, if there's something that would aid you in your search, let me know. I'm not going to ask questions. Just...if there's anything that can give you closure, I'll get it for you."

"I appreciate the offer," you reply. "But, I don't think the Council would take too kindly to you helping me. Especially after what happened. They're probably going to be watching us both like hawks for a while."

"Right." He sighs.

"However," you continue. "I'd appreciate it if you could pull any records regarding the last few months she was alive. Missions. Debriefings. Anything."

"Consider it done," he promises.

"Thank you."

"Of course," he says. "Anything else?"

"Actually, yes," you say. "There is something else."

"Yes?"

You step forward and wrap your arms around him, hugging him, and he hugs you back, his cheek resting against your head. You hold him close, breathing in his scent, his warmth surrounding you, his arms tight around your waist. There's so much you want to say, and so many things you want to tell him, but none of it feels right. Not after what's happened, and the choices the two of you have made. And, for a moment, you just let yourself be, his heartbeat steady against your cheek, the rise and fall of his chest calming.

"I love you, you know that, right?" you say quietly as you pull away.

He chuckles and brushes a stray hair from your forehead. "Yes, I do."

"Good." You step back and turn toward your door, looking over your shoulder at him. "Now, go. Get some sleep."

"You too," he says, his lips quirking. You can't help but return his smile, and he turns, heading for his room. He glances over his shoulder, and he winks. "Good night, darling."

"Good night," you call out.

He vanishes around the corner, and you turn and open the door, stepping into your room. The door slides shut, and you're greeted by the empty, familiar, sight of your quarters. The walls are bare, the windows are uncovered, and the floors are cold. It's not a welcoming space, and it never has been, but tonight, the silence feels particularly loud. You're used to being alone, but, right now, the loneliness is almost overwhelming.

You're not sure why.

Or, perhaps, you don't want to admit why.

Either way, the ache in your chest is still there, the emptiness still lingers, and you know it's not just from the alcohol. You try to ignore the feeling, and instead you settle on the floor to meditate, focusing on the Force and letting the energy flow through you. 

It doesn't work, and you know it won't. But, you have to try. The alternative is too much to bear. You sit for a few hours, your eyes closed, and your hands resting on your knees, until, eventually, sleep pulls you under.

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@silly-starfish

[colduncrustable]

the martin antis working so hard to make waves is so funny. like, you are very much allowed to like/dislike any character you please! but making it your whole personality or acting like you’re cooler for it is a little bit silly. you are not morally or intellectually superior for hating on a fiction character.

not to mention all of the characters in tma are very nuanced and complicated, just like real people (!), and erasing all of that to serve a certain narrative is a complete disservice to the entire body of work. jon and martin’s relationship was never meant to be easy, they first and foremost worked closely together as boss/employee, and in a workplace that was actively putting them in dangerous and horrible situations. the whole point is that they’re both super fucked up but they have each other anyway. they both have flaws, they both have gone through a great deal both with and without each other, but they found love anyway. the idea that the dynamic change in s5 is due to martin just being this villain is so wild? like he’s not a doormat anymore but he also loves jon so fiercely and stands by him over and over again?

jon hated him, jon ignored him, was verbally horrible to him again and again, literally sent him on a dangerous investigation and said if anyone had to die might as well be him, jon accused him of murder, screamed at him, jon was on the run, jon died. martin was his number one defender through everything, even when honestly? he didn’t do a lot to prove he deserved it. but martin was strong in his loyalty and did his best to be a supporter anyway. he picked up extra work, he thought of him kindly when no one else did, he mourned him, and he put himself directly in the line of fire for jon. for everyone, yes, but especially for jon, he says that. because after everything, protecting jon is still his number one priority.

it’s so important to his character that he isn’t s1 martin anymore—that he learns to be a real person who has thoughts and feelings and a backbone. jon wanted that, and does it not say something that they don’t work out until martin learns to have a little bite? there’s a difference between being a real complicated traumatized human person, and just straight up being evil, or an asshole. jon had to learn how to be a lot of softer things but martin had to learn how to square his shoulders and stick out his chin. they had different arcs, and that doesn’t make either of them inherently evil or bad. it makes them real and not perfect and very multilayered, yeah.

martin didn’t handle every choice or action perfectly, he made a lot of mistakes, and he never claims to be the best person ever. but jon also fucked up, a lot. it isn’t a competition or a comparison, that’s really not how that works. but they work because of their flaws. that’s a big part of them fitting together. martin represented the humanity they were saving, with all his good and bad. jon was well beyond that, and while that doesn’t inherently compromise his character, it does mean he’s viewed in a much different light.

(meaning i think jon’s sins are seen very very different to martin’s.) (to be clear i think both deserve to be looked at critically, but hating either of them devoutly seems sort of silly.)

i’m not sure how you can listen to tma and all the ways it dissects and reflects on humanity and turn around and run blogs or make posts in the fandom about how you hate one of the main characters for being all of that.

jon never would’ve made it through without martin, even if martin wasn’t the key to everything, he was the reason to push through and not give up. martin is why jon didn’t go full monster mode, why he held onto who he was and his humanity, even with the whole ‘kill bill’ thing. martin gave him a reason to keep going, to try, to care so deeply. obviously there were other factors but jon says it himself, martin you are my reason.

if you can’t handle the fact that martin isn’t a grade a soft boy by the end of the show that’s a lot more about you than it is about him. he grew and maybe not always for the better but he could be a real person for jon instead of some kind of mirror or blank slate to be reflected on. i genuinely don’t understand how he can be misunderstood so deeply.

they’re both fucked up ! and if they are alive Somewhere Else you bet your ass they’re having long talks and going to therapy and fighting and making up and pacing the floors and figuring it all out together. it isn’t clean or easy or necessarily enjoyable all the time, but humanity isn’t either, love isn’t either. they went through unimaginable trauma, and expecting either of them to be holding it together any better than they already are is wild. context, it’s important. but let’s not turn multi-dimensional characters into flat one word answers.

it’s very human to like and dislike, love and hate based off of bias and experiences and perspective. but also opinion does not make fact. everything is relative, everything is subjective, everything everything everything. it’s an open discussion yada yada idk i’m just screaming into the wall about all the nonsense.

and beyond all of that, discourse is so useless. criticism and constructive conversations are really really important but discourse is pointless! oh you ship these people? well that inherently threatens my ship! oh you like this character that i hate? well that makes me feel invalid for hating them. like what you like, hate what you hate, have your feelings. but if you post shit on the internet you will get people who disagree, sorry, that’s how it is. partaking in little arguments over who is right or wrong when it doesn’t actually have to do with anything harmful or unhealthy makes no sense though. posting on the internet about all the hate you have in your heart when the world is already so full of it doesn’t actually do anything but add more bad to an already very large pile of bad.

things can be discussions not arguments sometimes, i promise. it’s not always tooth and nail, and let’s not forget, most of it is over things that never need to be fought over.

[fushizhuo]

Synopsis: You're the youngest member of SKZ and the younger brother of Bang Chan. However, you're sick. And your parents sent you to the US to get treatment. But, they couldn't treat your disease. No matter how hard they tried. So as a final goodbye, you sang a song for your hyungs and your fans.

Genre — Angst.

Warnings — Death

Pairing — M! Reader x SKZ (platonic)

AN note — Transferring my wattpad works over to Tumblr, I made this when I was 12 don't judge 🤞🏻

WC — 4.8k

The arena hums with quiet anticipation, the energy heavy with sadness. Stray Kids are on stage, but the usual vibrant atmosphere is missing. Eight members stand in a row, their faces somber. The space next to them is empty—the place where you always stood.

Chan steps forward, his hands gripping the microphone tightly, his voice trembling as he addresses the crowd. “STAYs, tonight is… different,” he starts, his eyes flicking back to the members, all barely holding back their emotions. “Our member, y/n, couldn’t be with us tonight. But he left us something. A message for all of you.”

The crowd stirs, sensing the gravity of the moment. Then, the massive screen behind the group flickers on, and there you are, sitting in a chair, pale but smiling gently at the camera. You look weaker than ever, but you’re trying to be strong, for them, for the fans.

“Hello, STAYs,” you begin, your voice soft, yet steady. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there tonight with my brothers. The truth is… I’m sick. Really sick.”

The arena falls into a deafening silence. Even though rumors had been swirling for weeks, hearing you confirm it feels like a punch to the gut for everyone present.

“I’ve been fighting this for a while,” you continue, a sad smile tugging at your lips, “but it’s gotten worse. And… I don’t think I’m going to survive this.”

The weight of your words sinks deep into the hearts of the fans, many of whom have already started to cry. The members on stage are barely holding it together. Felix wipes at his eyes, his face twisted in sorrow, tears falling down uncontrollably with I.N comforting him, while Hyunjin clenches his fists, his shoulders trembling.

You pause for a moment, as if gathering the strength to go on. “I’m sorry I couldn’t sing live with you tonight. But I wanted to say goodbye properly, the only way I know how—through a song. This is my final song, and I want to dedicate it to all of you.”

The camera zooms in slightly as you take a deep breath. “STAYs, thank you. You made me braver than I’ve ever been. Every moment on stage, every song, every smile—I did it because of you.”

You look down for a second, composing yourself, before looking back up at the camera, your eyes brimming with tears. “To my hyungs, thank you for taking care of me. You’re my family, and you’ll always be my home.”

With that, you reach for your guitar and start strumming the familiar opening chords of Castle on the Hill. The stadium quiets, listening intently, as your voice fills the arena.

"When I was six years old, I broke my leg,

I was running from my brother and his friends."

The soft, nostalgic melody washes over the crowd, each note filled with bittersweet memories. The camera flashes between you, playing your final song, and old clips of Stray Kids—the early days when you were all just starting out, moments in the dorms, behind-the-scenes laughter.

"And I miss the way

You make me feel,

And it’s real."

Your voice trembles slightly, but you keep going, pouring everything you have left into this performance. The members on stage are frozen in place, their eyes locked on the screen as you sing about the good times, about the innocence of youth, and about home.

"When we watched the sunset

Over the castle on the hill…"

The song continues, each lyric hitting harder than the last, and the fans can barely contain their sobs. You sing not just for them, but for your hyungs too, for the family you’re leaving behind.

"One friend left to sell clothes,

One works down by the coast,

One had two kids but lives alone,

One’s brother overdosed,

One’s already on his second wife,

One’s just barely getting by."

As you sing these lines, the camera flashes again to moments from the members’ lives—Chan struggling as a leader, Lee Know dancing through exhaustion, Han and Changbin composing until the early morning, Seungmin’s late-night vocal practices, Hyunjin’s quiet moments of self-reflection, Felix’s smile breaking even through the toughest days.

"But these people raised me,

And I can't wait to go home."

Your voice catches on the word home, and it’s clear that you’re thinking of the members—your brothers who stood by you through it all. The camera shows clips of all eight of you together, laughing, crying, working, living.

"And I'm on my way,

I still remember these old country lanes,

When we did not know the answers."

The music swells, and the arena is filled with your voice, with memories, with everything you’ve been through together. The fans, the members, everyone is united in the sadness of your goodbye.

"And I miss the way

You make me feel,

And it’s real,

When we watched the sunset over the castle on the hill,

Over the castle on the hill,

Over the castle on the hill."

As the final chorus fades, the screen cuts back to you. Your guitar falls silent, and you look into the camera one last time, tears filling your eyes but a soft smile still on your lips.

“Thank you, STAYs. You made me feel alive. You made me brave. I love you all so much.”

Your final words are barely above a whisper. “I’ll be home soon.”

The screen goes dark. For a few moments, the arena is completely still. No one moves. No one speaks. It’s as though the world itself is holding its breath, not wanting to acknowledge what just happened.

Then, the sobs start—quiet at first, then louder, until the entire stadium is filled with the sound of heartbreak. The members on stage are in tears, clutching onto each other for support. Chan tries to speak, but no words come out. He steps forward, wiping his face, and finally manages to say, “Thank you, y/n. We love you.”

The concert ends not with an encore, not with cheers, but with the weight of your goodbye hanging in the air. STAYs leave the arena with heavy hearts, each one carrying a piece of you with them, your voice still echoing in their minds, the final notes of Castle on the Hill playing over and over.

You never made it back. But in that final moment, you felt at home.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Stress Relief | Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Katsuki Bakugo x AFAB Reader 💋

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: A quick unedited one shot where the reader is stressed and Katsuki decides to help her de-stress :) Nothing complicated here, just sexy vibes.

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, fingering, lemon, Smut, Dirty Talk, Hurt/Comfort

It’s dark in your dorm when Katsuki Bakugo slips through the unlocked door. You’re starting to fall asleep when you see the door open a crack, the light from the hallway illuminating his pale features with its glow.

You’re exhausted and not in the mood to talk to him, not after the day you had. You glare at him from your bed as he quietly shuts the door behind you.

“Come on, babe. Don’t give me that look.” He groans, padding over to your bed and slipping beneath the covers beside you. “You know that I can’t take it easy on you when we spar. You don’t get special treatment in class just because you’re my girlfriend.”

You turn away from him to face the wall, ignoring him. Not only had Katsuki hit you with an over the top, uncalled for special move in training – it was a move you had never seen before. You had thought the two of you shared absolutely everything. You were almost at the end of your third year at UA, chasing graduation. For the past year and a half, you two had been daydreaming about starting a hero agency together. If Katsuki had hid an insane special move from you only to bring it out in a simple training match…what else was he hiding?

“I know that look.” He says as he wraps his arms around you. He’s so strong and sturdy you can’t help but melt into him. “I didn’t tell you about the move because I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought you would be more excited about it, honestly. Come on, babe. Don’t be mad.”

You sigh, your whole body sore from where he walloped you with his overenthusiastic explosion earlier that day. Finally, you acknowledge him. “I’ve showed you all of my special moves – even the secret ones. And yet…you kept this insane move a secret even from me. Sometimes I don’t think you trust me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, rolling your words around in his mind. When he does speak, there’s a tinge of hurt in his voice. A vulnerability that only a few people will ever hear form Katsuki Bakugo. “Babe…I didn’t realize I was keeping it a secret. I was really excited to show you. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t trust you. You’re the only person who knows absolutely all of me. You gotta believe that.” He squeezes his arms lightly around you, reinforcing the words.

You huff with frustration. “Yeah, I know, okay? I’m just really achy and pissed off that you decided to debut some flashy move while fighting me. Why couldn’t you unleash it on Kaminari or Kirishima?”

He buries his face in the back of your neck. “I was tryin’ to impress ya, is all.”

“I’d be a lot more impressed if you didn’t blast the hell out of me during a training exercise.” You try to scoot away from him and end up stretching out your muscles at an odd angle. You cry out softly at the pain.

“Did I hurt ya that bad?” He says, concern lacing his words. “You’re made of such tough stuff…but maybe I took things a little too far in the ring.” His hands run across your body soothingly, trying to rub out any aches and pains that he may have caused during your sparring.

“It’s fine. Honestly, it was a really stressful day and your new ‘special move’ was just the icing on top of the cake. I just need it to be the weekend already.” You sigh out. The past few weeks have been so stressful at school and at your work study. You’re tired and overworked, and you could really just use a break. Katsuki unleashing the full force of his explosion hell on you in class was definitely not something you were mentally or physically prepared for – all you want to do now is rest.

“I know you’ve been real stressed lately. Sorry if I added to it.” He mumbles into your shoulder, leaving light kisses along your skin. You shiver when you feel the tip of his tongue dart out to trace a shape on the sensitive skin of your clavicle.

“Hey…you know what we haven’t done in a while?” His voice suddenly brightens and his hand snakes down to grip your stomach lightly over your shirt. “I can think of a great way to give you a good dose of stress relief.” He smooths his hand down the plane of your stomach and finds the hem of your shirt, dipping underneath the thin fabric so that he can fan out his fingers across your delicate skin. “Let me take your stress away with my fingertips, sweetheart.” He begins to run his fingers back and forth under the waistband of your sweatpants. The sensual touch causes a sparking sensation to gather down in your core. Everywhere he touches, goose bumps pop up on your skin.

“…Kats.” You say, warningly. The walls of the dorm are notoriously thin, and you don’t want to be on the receiving end of one of Mr. Aizawa’s lectures about safe sex, creating a culture of respect, the dorm rules, etc.

“Just keep quiet. I’ll make it quick as I can. No one ever has to know.” He leans in and starts to plant slow, open mouthed kisses along your neck, his fingers dipping lower and into dangerous territory. He brings the palm of his hand to rest right above your panties and slowly starts to circle your clit from over the delicate cotton fabric.

“Oh.” You breathe out, your body coming back to life as Katsuki touches you. He’s always so direct, so sure of himself. His approach to sex is reflective of that – don’t beat around the bush, just get to the heart of the pleasure.

“Yeah?” He whispers wetly before nipping at your earlobe. “You like when I touch you here?”

“Duh.” You hiss through your teeth. Katsuki pulls his hand away from your pussy and you almost cry out at the loss of contact. He brings his ring and middle fingers to his mouth and sucks, coating them in a thick sheen of saliva. He then moves to touch you again, this time sliding his hand beneath your panties for better access. When his warm, wet fingers hit your clit – your body absolutely lights up. All aches and pains are gone – its just you, Katsuki, and his magical fingers.

He starts out slow, circling around your clit until your grinding your butt back into him. He loves this – spooning you while he gets you off. He loves a good power dynamic, and this is no exception. In this position, Katsuki has most of the control. He likes that you know it, too.

He circles your clit lazily for a while, letting you get a feel for it. As you start to buck into him, he decides to speed things up, dipping his fingers low so he can gather some slick from your entrance before sliding them back up to work more on your clit. Within seconds you’re begging for him to get inside you, and he obliges – slipping a single digit into you slowly while giving your clit the attention it deserves with his thumb. He lets you hump his hand, finding the angles that work best with your body and causing you to see stars.

It’s when he slips a second finger into you that you start to get close. You feel his cock harden against the curve of your ass, eager to please. He starts leaving a trail of hot hickies along your shoulder – sucking in your sensitive skin between his sharp teeth and then kissing over marks he leaves behind. The combination of sensations is far too much, and you feel yourself get closer and closer to falling off the edge. The way Katsuki's fingers are slipping, sliding, stretching...it's far too much. You want to groan in pleasure, but you keep your mouth shut as best you can.

His fingers pump in and out of you with practiced skill, and you clap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from moaning out his name for all of the dorm to hear.

“Kats!” You say in a muffled voice from behind your hand. “Kats, I’m close.”

That’s all he needs to hear. He brings his fingers out of you to focus on your clit for a bit, drawing circles and triangles and figure eights and whatever other fuckin’ shapes he knows how to make around your sensitive bundle of nerves until your legs are shaking. Then, when he feels he’s gotten you hot and bothered enough, he slides two fingers deep into your cunt, flicking them in an attempt to hit your G spot.

And holy shit he does.

Katsuki hits that delicious spongy spot deep inside you and your body jerks with pleasure. He smirks at the reaction, proud of himself for figuring you out so quickly. He hits the spot again and again and again until your pussy tenses up and falls into one of the finest orgasms you’ve had in your life. You cum so easily, your whole body shaking as he takes you apart with nothing but his fingertips. The waves of the orgasm hit you full force, your body tingling and jerking in time with his targeted movements. He lets you ride out your orgasm, mumbling quiet praise into your ear as you grind through your high.

“That’s my good girl, so perfect for me. Cumming on my fingertips so nicely. Fuck babe. Fuck you’re gorgeous. Keep cumming for me please.”

His words are just as sexy as his hand down your pants, and you can’t believe how lucky you are to have landed someone as hot as Katsuki.

When you finally finish, he slides his hand out of your panties and pulls you close. He plants a hundred kisses across your neck and shoulder, happy to have been of service. You lay in silence for a moment – you catching your breath, him glowing with pride at a job well done.

“Did I manage to take away some of your stress?” He whispers cheekily. The damn idiot is so proud of himself, as always.

“S-sure.” You try to sound calm, cool and collected but the break in your voice is enough. Katsuki knows that he achieved exactly what he set out to do. You melt back into his chest and start to doze. What a day it's been! You're too tired to speak anymore, but you manage to squeak out: “Thanks babe. Love you.”

“Love ya, too.” He says, settling in under the covers and planting a last kiss on your back. “But I’m still not taking it easy on ya during training.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Is the last thing you say before drifting off into a sound sleep.

[yermes]

Advice for setting clear boundaries at work and how to say no in a work setting 🌙

In a world that is so hard the biggest act of rebellion is to be violently gentle

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Pick a meme

123

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Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. But I am working on sharing my notes soon so that will be exciting! Liking and sharing does a lot 🥰

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Socials: TipJar | Follow me!

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The cards

Full moon in virgo 🌈

Don’t worry about work. Worrying only means you suffer twice and as a very open person you are very sensitive to the shitty vibes of the work place. Do not second guess but also do not strong arm. You work for minimum wage, you are allowed to act like it. People may pressure you into going above and beyond but do not go above your pay grade. Do not burn yourself out. Do not be a dick to yourself or others.

New moon in cancer 🦀

You don’t have to be so un-relatable. You put up walls to protect yourself you isolated yourself. There are people who want to make work more livable and more enjoyable with you and as long as you have clear boundaries you should maybe keep a few people close. Put your family first, most of all. And go over your goals and understand why you work in the first place and set up little fun goals to make work more enjoyable, but be emotionally aware of how your coworkers affect you emotionally.

New moon in Aquarius 🏺

Talk to your coworkers, are you mad about how much you get paid? Talk to coworkers. Feel unsupported by upper staff. Talk to coworkers. More often than not they feel a similar way to you and gaining connections and getting a conversation going to understand the failings of the work place will be huge. Good team bonding too. However, whatever is bringing you stress at work. Detach from the situation, think outside the box and think about the work community as a whole

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Extras:

Story/vent:

New decks monday, rituals Tuesday, school Wednesday

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