#pray to who or whatever you believe in
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HI MY TUMBLR BABIES YALL PLS WISH ME LUCK TOMORROW
#we’re praying for the downfall of my enemy!!!#(evil boss at work who makes it miserable for EVERYONE)#we’re hoping and praying and wishing and manifesting that she gets fired tomorrow!!!!#PLS#send me all the good vibes#pray to who or whatever you believe in#cross your fingers#your toes#your heart#cross your everything#PUHLEASE#she’s had like 7 hr complaints filed against her she needs to GOOOOO#rants n rambles#mine#I need y’all’s help pls 😭😭🤞
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What Deacon thinks: what did that mean? did he want me to wear a collar too? why else would he mention my neck? i mean, if he /asked/ me i would wear one but he didn't so would wearing one be weird?
What Ymber meant: It's nice to be near someone who isn't tethered to this world to serve it with a physical reminder for all to see.
#my characters#this just in ! thats why all the deities in the plot have collars and a chain !#its because THATS THEIR DESIGNATED I AM HERE TO HELP THIS WORLD SYMBOL#they cant remove their collars and thats fine by them - its a constant reminder that they exist to serve#deacon really shouldnt get as much crap as he gets in canon for being weird cause the deities are just a different brand of weird#like its not deacons fault that apparently you can say nice neck with no underlying desire#but he cant say hi would you please possess me i want to know what its like to have someone else in my body#like thats really not something you should pin on deacon YET EVERY deity is like wow what a lil weirdo#he also just really wants to please ymber so if ymber asked he would definitely do whatever#on the flip side i need to point out that deacon very specifically doesnt ask ymber for things nor does he pray for things#and it drives ymber up a wall because this is his favorite human who wont ask for anything and he isnt a psychic#he doesnt know what deacon wants or needs and its infuriating cause he exists to serve humanity#and yet this ONE GUY wont let him do things for him#this is very important and i cant believe i mentioned it like a month ago to someone and today#i received gift art of these two and i may never recover#its so perfect and its ymber just looming over deacon telling him that he can pray about anything to him#its also worth pointing out that when i was telling the person about the whole ymber begging for a prayer#its because he realizes that after all this time hes never had a single prayer from deacon - not before nor after the hire#so hes like oh well thats odd hmm#and then begins to talk to deacon like you know people pray to me for lots of things#and deacon looks at him unsure of what this is leading to - did someone offer a weird prayer? ask a weird thing? whatst?#and no - its just ymber saying that people will pray for wealth or an item#or they will express frustration if something is lost or broken despite it not being ymbers fault so deacon just stares#he has no idea what this is going to end on really so he points out 'well you do like to think you break people'#and ymber just ASDFASDFSADF STOP OK NEXT POINT people pray to me to bless relationships with happiness#and thats fascinating so deacon is like wow can you actually do that?#and ymber is so stressed as hes like i mean kinda i can simply amplify the positive emotions in gestures#like if someone gives an item out of love then its blessed#he also admits that he cant mask insincerity or malice so those feelings are not hidden nor amplified#and deacon just is impressed bc that is actually VERY cool
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everyday i restrain myself
#julia.txt#okay im not going to do a full fledged post abt this but i have got 2 het this out#nowhere in the Bible does it say that there shpuld be One Guy who teaches. or a select few appoimted guys. whatever#a pastor is in his essence no different from a priest#every single believer (who is called to teaching) has the potential of saying something edifying#every single believer has the potential to pray a good prayer#to suggest a good song#all with the caveat of being led by the Holy Spirit. ofc#a Fully Biblical church is one where every brother has the opportunity to speak to pray to suggest a hymn if the Spirit leads him to do so#like. will it be perfect. no we are human we are failiable there is not a single believer on earth that listens to fhe Spirit 100% of the#time#but the solution is not to put in place man-made order#the solution is to keep working on ourselves as an assembly#like#we will always fall short of the perfectness of God#does that mean we stop trying?#no!! we try HARDER. we give ourselves fully to Him we entrust ourselves in His hands and work on it!!!!#shakes you. there is freedom in the Holy Spirit.#have you been in a meeting where nothing is pre planned not who prays not the songs sung not the sermon#and Yet. everything lines up together#the songs suggested all follow the same theme#the prayers all follow the same theme#and then a brother gets up and says the Spirit put on my heart to say this AND IT FOLLOWS THE SAME THEME#do you Understand. its beautiful#man made order could NEVER compare to this#disclaimer a church having a pastor doesnt mean that its not biblically sound there are WONDERFUL godly pastors out there it is simply#What Is Normal right now#but. gestures wildly#you see#if anyone sees this and wants elaboration i would be happy 2 :0
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So I was going to write this whole thing about Faulkner and how a lot of his character is, at least to me, built on this despairing loneliness and isolation. That part of it stems from having been abandoned by his father and brother (a father that never looked him in the eye, a brother that never came back like he promised). That that loneliness feeds into his desire for a place to belong, to no longer be alone, but its since been twisted into this want for prestige (because there's that rationalization: if he were special, if he had the title and accolades then he'd have had to have made his place somewhere right? Make a home somewhere?). And that's why it was so easy to betray Carpenter the way he did, to weigh it in his hands....
.... but every time I tried to sit down and write coherent, concise thoughts it spiraled into something incomprehensible (see above). BUT I still want to talk about it because this podcast makes me so ill every other Thursday.
#the silt verses#listen. do you see my vision.#faulkner strikes me as someone who knows who he is but needs to prove it to others. needs to save face. is afraid of showing his mistakes#sometimes I'll see ppl say they hate faulkner and I'm like nooo you don't deserve him#listen i firmly believe ppl are allowed to feel whatever way about whichever character#AND YET.....#like if you're struggling to understand his character i feel like this reading helps contextualize a lot of his actions#he's not someone who wants power for power's sake#but rather needs to be accepted and loved but only sees the possibility through power. through being special#the trawlerman as a god that walked beside him when he was lonely and hurting and chose him for a reason#but there's a reason why he no longer prayed to him like he used to in s2 isn't there?
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she's talking on a call with her parents about how it was her luck and gods will what got her into this college who's gonna tell her of course no one because you know 🤡🤡
#i can't believe things can get so unfair even in the education system when its literally about someone's career#roommate takes everything so casually she's just the worst person academically i encountered#and i don't have the authority to say who belongs to which place but it really hurt doesn't it#there are kids giving their everything working hard and all praying screaming to get climbed upon my someone#who spent their first year crying about missing home and not studying not even a minute under the name of not being able to adjust#then how did she suddenly adjust now how is she going on group studies now its all a joke to her#and thats why she failed this year yeah it was predictable#there were friends' friends i know who were put out and had to ask how much did she score#well ill tell you A FUCKING 347 in neet#CAN YOU BELIEVE IT#do you think she deserves to come in a medical stream?#and no she's not economically unwell for most i can say she's everything better than me#and god forbid i speak#im not against whatever thenpolitics run around i don't have enough knowledge i don't hate anyone#and im not taking anyone's right out of their platter as if i even have the right#but sometimes i see people like her and it makes me wanna cry#if they aren't at fault neither ae we.right?#but i hope she becomes someone better#does something i hope she turns out a good doctor or whatever she wants#please don't waste this seat
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#that one post saying that austin and kaia are disconnected bc she’s skinny and he likes to cook for ppl he loves#the most patronising thing i’ve seen on this hellsite in over a decade#“idk much about her and idw to dunk on her” yet continues to spew the most brain rotted psychotic thing#saying they’re “out of sync” bc you think aus lives and breathes cooking and it’s the most important thing to him#and since she’s clearly skinny then obv that means she’s got issues w food thus aus feels left out. i’m going crazy even typing this out#to comment on ppl’s looks is nasty work but to even imply you know what’s going bts esp w someone’s relationship with food#is clearly derangement beyond comprehension and i don’t understand how aus who’s the nicest person on earth#has the most vile and insane fans who constantly put words in his mouth n humiliate him n dissect his life n PRAY for him to be alone forev#i genuinely can’t believe the stuff i see sometimes considering i’ve blocked everyone under the sun at this point#treat people with kindness or whatever. maybe do a soul cleanse occasionally. carrying so much hate in you can’t be good for your heart
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my brother is getting married this weekend and i'm! stressed
#just pray to whatever deity you believe in that my mother doesn't make a scene like she did the last time#i just know that if she does i'm gonna be the one that has to deal with it#doesn't help that it's her birthday this week AND mother's day this weekend#lotsa expectations! especially for a woman who gets real weird about literally every holiday#on top of that i haven't met like ANY of my brother's fiancee's family yet bc my brother couldn't be bothered#i've met her parents and brothers ONCE very very briefly#i understand that weddings are a chance for the families to mingle but like#i feel like i should've spent a little bit more time with them before the actual wedding lol#pray 4 me pls
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brrr being pregnant with husband!gojo. that's it.
satoru, who thought he couldn't have been any more happier than the day you two got married, but was proven wrong when you showed him those two lines.
satoru, who spun you around in happiness, he couldn't believe this was real, that he was to have his own perfect family with you.
he'd happily go shopping around with you. for random things you suddenly felt like buying, things for the nursery, clothes and toys for the baby, buy whatever just kiss him after.
you'd have a baby shower, with so many of his sorcerer students and coworkers invited. satoru shoving party hats on everyone, and making them wear colored shirts too for the occasion. satoru prayed to whatever gods that would listen that he'd have a baby girl with you, even telling megumi to wear a pink shirt for good luck.
when you two cut the cake together and saw it was pink, he was the happiest man in the world. jumping up and down with yuuji and nobara in glee, he was seriously on cloud nine.
even through the rough times in your pregnancy, like the annoyingly specific cravings that needed to be satiated, the eternal feeling of sickness, the swollen nose, he'd be there through it all, he'd even call of work (not like he doesn't look for any excuse to do so already) just to comfort and be next to you.
when you give birth, i think he'd be the type to almost faint at the sight, because even though he's seen deformation and death that would give anyone nightmares for years, the action of giving life to someone was surprisingly more scary.
the polaroid photo he made the doctor snap of you, sweaty and exhausted, your baby, resting on your chest, and him doing a peace sign right after you gave birth is now his wallpaper and good luck charm that he keeps in his pocket. he tries to show it to everyone, but you're embarrassed of how you look in it. but him, with his rose-colored glasses for anything to do with you, will full on tilt his head in confusion as to why.
annoyingly good dad to your daughter, but is one of those 'let them get hurt and learn from it types', which is hard to let slide when dealing with a newborn.
#to be gojo's wife <\3#lilac speaks꧂#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#jujutsu gojo#satorugojo#satoru x you#satoru drabbles#gojo drabbles
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A PLACE IN THE SEA OF STARS
anakin skywalker x f!naberrie!reader word count: 10.4k (my longest yet... i'm so sorry) warnings: two idiots pining, pining, reader is padme's younger sister (whether biological or adopted is up to you), first time having sex, soft smut, angst synopsis: a life spent in padmé amidala's shadow and never once did she ever think she'd be envious of her sister. that is, until anakin skywalker walks his way into her life and she finds herself praying that one day, he'd look at her the way he does at padmé, that she'll be given a place in the sea of stars, that her destiny will include him.
read on ao3
It came as no surprise that Anakin Skywalker would be enamored with her second-to-oldest sister.
After a life spent behind Padmé Amidala’s shadow, she’d grown accustomed to it— being overlooked. But for once, just this once, she wished history wouldn’t repeat itself, wished the prophecy could be rewritten and for once, let it be her who was chosen, who was noticed.
But of course, it’s futile.
You can sink to your knees and pray to whatever higher being is in the sky but at the end of the day, there are millions of lost souls just like you doing the same. You can have faith, you can believe that someday you’ll be heard but with each silent day that passes, your voice still falls on deaf ears.
She’s done her time playing the fool who sinks to her knees and pleads with the night sky to find her a place in the sea of stars, so that she may fit in a constellation too. She’s been the statue who's been made to wait— and she’s started to crumble.
She remembers the day she started to pray like it was yesterday. It was the day she first met Anakin Skywalker, back when he was only a Padawan, still searching for his own place in the world. Her parents were restless then, having heard of the multiple assassination attempts on their dear second oldest daughter. Of course she was worried too, but she still could feel the guilt that settled into the marrow of her bones when she found herself pondering whether her parents would react the same way if it had been her life at stake instead.
She remembers helping her eldest sister, Sola, and her mother with dinner in preparation for the arrival of their sister Padmé and her Jedi escort. She’d been tasked with bringing a bowl of fruit to the table and she remembered nearly being trampled over by her nieces, Ryoo and Pooja, as they squeal Padmé’s name, sprinting for the door.
She remembers huffing, mumbling a curse in an alien language beneath her breath just as their guests step inside, looking up from where she leaned over the table, dropping the bowl down onto the surface. She remembers her breath catching in her throat when her gaze found a sea of blue that put the Naboo waters to shame.
Padmé’s lips curved into a grin as she exclaimed her sister’s name, circling the table to capture her in an embrace. Her sister wrapped her arms around her and her chin found Padmé’s shoulder as the blue that took her breath away crashed into her and she swore everything changed in that moment.
She remembers the first time Anakin Skywalker looked at her. It was a brief, friendly locking of the eyes but a fleeting moment for him felt like lightyears for her. His eyes were the blue of the water where the sun’s reflection gently ripples and warps. They were the blue of the sky after it rains and the sun begins to spill through the cracks of the wall of clouds.
She’s never understood what it meant to be speechless, for something to literally steal the breath away from her lungs. But from the moment her eyes met his, she began to understand.
“Anakin! This is my youngest sister,” Padmé announced, pulling away from their embrace. Her spine stiffened when her sister introduced her and she watched as his full, pink lips moved to form her name. His voice is like nails scraping against the itch she can’t reach on her back, his voice is like velvet she can swallow, deliciously soft and rich against her throat.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Anakin dipped his chin in greeting, the silly, little braid falling off his shoulder. She drained the lump that had formed in her throat, bowing her head. Her lips trembled and her breath was shaky as she prepared her salutations but her words fell dead on the tip of her tongue when Padmé’s squeal permeated the room.
“And my eldest sister Sola!”
And just like that, all attention rolled away from her and onto her eldest sisters but she still watched him, heart beating against her chest.
And that was the moment she began to pray.
She prayed, even though the looks he’d given Padmé didn’t go unnoticed. The way he watched her, even when she wasn’t the one speaking, the way he’d soak in every word, every praise for her that fell past her parents’ mouths. The way he stared longingly at her sister when he was certain nobody was watching— and no one was, for their attentions were on Padmé, save for hers.
It was typical.
It should come as no surprise that everyone would worship the ground her sister— the former Queen, current Senator of Naboo— walked on. She’s not surprised that someone young and benign like him would fall in love with her sister— she’d only seen it happen more times than she ever really cared to count.
And she’d never really cared about all the suitors on their knees at Padmé’s feet before— they were her sister’s problems, not hers. She’d never even really envied her sister, at least in that sense.
But everything changed the moment Anakin stepped through the door. Everything changed the moment their eyes met, if only for the most fleeting of seconds.
So she prayed.
Inside the inner realms of her mind, she sinks to her knees and stares into the void above her, the stars that beamed down at her twinkling, almost as if they taunted her. She swallowed her pride, folding her hands together and raising them to her chin, brow dipping as she pleaded with the higher being in the sky to hear her cry.
“Please, hear me, Maker,” she whispered into her mind, externally staring at Anakin, internally losing her gaze amongst the stars as if the Maker himself would appear between them. “Hear my plea. Whatever destiny you’ve pre-written for me, please be sure it includes Anakin Skywalker.”
She didn’t see Anakin Skywalker again for another year after that.
Apparently, being a Jedi means he’s constantly from place to place, but next time they do end up in the same place, it’s even more fleeting than the last. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever see him again, if she was foolish to continue hoping that he might notice her, that he might even love her. But she still remembers the way his eyes flickered in recognition when they caught hers across the courtyard of Theed Royal Palace. His hair was longer and he didn’t have that ridiculous braid or tiny ponytail on the back of his neck anymore. The Chancellor was speaking to him and another Jedi with umber hair and a matching beard, but his attention was on her.
He looked… darker. As if the years of war had finally begun taking its toll on him. But he’s still the same man he’s always been, still the same one she’s dreamed about. He even looked better.
They don’t get the chance to talk, only share knowing glances, as he was on duty and their paths unfortunately didn’t cross. But that gleaming in his eyes, the one that blazes with knowing is all the kindling in the pit of her belly needs to bloom, to blossom into a raging wildfire.
So, she prayed again.
“Maker,” she said into that night sky inside of her head. The stars shone brighter, as if to laugh at the foolish girl beneath them. She ignored them of course— because she truly believed that one day, she’d prove them wrong. “Please. Hear my plea. Let Anakin Skywalker see me again. Give me a place in your sea of stars and make sure it is in Anakin Skywalker’s orbit.”
She doesn’t see him again for another two years.
But still, he lingers, just like a phantom weaving through every corner she passes, cloaked in shadow. She sees Anakin Skywalker everywhere she goes— in the lakes of shining waters out in the country, in the rain that falls on a dark, cloudy day, in the litany of stars that idle in the sky.
She sees him in her dreams, staring the way he did at Padmé. Only, in her dreams, his gaze finds her. Almost like he had that day in the courtyard, but in her dreams, his eyes would linger longer.
His voice calls out to her whenever she’s sleeping and it lingers in gooseflesh on her skin, frosting over her bones. She’ll open her eyes when he calls but she’s never truly awake. Alas, if dreaming is the only way she’ll see Anakin Skywalker again, she’d gladly succumb to her sleep and trick herself into believing it is real.
Except tonight, she does not think she can take it much longer.
“Anakin,” she whispers one day when she peels her eyelids open after he calls. She says his name like it’ll be the last time she ever will. That look is on his face again— the one she’s seen so many times directed at her in her dreams, she’s nearly forgotten it wasn’t meant for her in the first place.
She used to wake and long for sleep to come again, just so she could watch him look at her like that.
But three long years of waiting and foolishly praying to beings who do not hear have begun to rust the illusion she’s deluded herself into hopelessly believing in. Three long years of silence and she’s finally cracked. She is broken— she sees it now. She’s grown weary of hoping he’d be the one to fix her.
His lips curve to form a smile and for three years, she’s fooled herself into believing it could be for her— truly be for her, outside of her dreams. But to be forthright, she’s tired. She’s grown tired of pretending, tired of clinging onto the dying embers of mere memories of how a man looked at someone that wasn’t her— but rather her sister. She’s grown tired of hoping, waiting, praying that one day, he may wander back into her life and thread his way into the tapestry that her destiny’s been woven into.
Tonight is the night she forfeits with her palms to the sky, tonight is the night she yields to the stars that have taunted her for far too long and admits her defeat. That they were right all along. Tonight is the night she blows away the ashes she’s desperately held so close to her chest and sealed away in secret urns inside for far too long.
Tonight is the night she lets go.
When she wakes the following morning, birds chirp outside her window. Sunlight spills into her room as it rises over the mountains across the lake and she yawns, stretching her arms over her head. Today is merry— it is the day her sister, Padmé Amidala, marries.
Today is merry but instead, she feels dread seep into the marrow of her bones. She’s happy for her sister, really, she is, but it serves only as a reminder that her time is ticking, and time has turned vexing. It serves as a reminder that she must make haste to find her own purpose, to find someone who will cherish her the way she’s spent many fortnights dreaming about. Sola’s already married and found her purpose, and Padmé’s had her entire life laid out before her since she was only fourteen years of age.
Sola, the wife and mother, Padmé, the Queen and then the Senator, and then there’s her. Unsure. Undecided. An ellipsis.
She’s envious. How could she not be? She’s envious that she’ll never be the perfect mother like Sola, envious that she’ll never live up to Padmé’s legacy, she’s even grown envious of the stars: they simply idle in the night sky but even their idleness has a purpose because their places have reason, to create constellations that in turn, tell stories.
She knows that after today, the pressure of fulfilling whatever destiny’s been written for her will only further suffocate her. She will suffocate beneath the weight of this pressure and she will be expected to continue breathing. She’s tried for so long to keep the air in her lungs but it’s so hard when with each day that passes by, the darkness grows more appealing.
She’s tried so hard to find the right path she’s supposed to take, but there are so many roads, so many choices and so many consequences. She’s afraid— and it’s why she’s allowed herself to hide in her sisters’ shadows for so long. But it feels so stifling now.
She sighs and blinks up to the terracotta ceiling. And then of course, dread wears her bones for an entirely different reason. Because it’s inevitable that she’s going to see Anakin Skywalker today. And things will be different.
It’s been lingering like an annoying, little insect since Padmé announced she’d invited her Jedi friends to the wedding, ever since she heard Anakin’s name being read off the list. Things were certain to change because he is but a mere guest, and not the groom.
It may have come as no surprise that Anakin would fall for her, but it certainly came as a shock that Padmé wouldn’t fall for him.
It makes her flesh blaze with a strange anger she’s not quite sure how to describe. How could her sister have something she so desperately wanted but not pursue it? How could she reject Anakin when he would willingly break and bend to her every whim? Why must her sister take his infatuation for granted— why could it not be given to her instead?
She thinks it must be some cruel trick the Maker is playing on her, dangling Anakin in front of her like that, cursing him with an unrequited love when she was right there. She thinks it must be the Maker’s— damn him— cruel way of taunting her, as if the sneering stars had eyes, his eyes. Even if part of her is relieved Anakin is not marrying her sister, it still feels like a blaster wound to her chest, puncturing her skin and searing her insides.
She hears her name called from outside her room’s door and groans.
“What do you want?” She replies in displeasure as the door slides open. Her eldest sister, Sola, steps into the room and glowers at her youngest sister’s tone.
“Well, good morning sunshine,” Sola remarks and she rolls her eyes. Sola makes her way towards the bed, dropping a dress the color of fire onto the mattress. “Is there a reason for your ill-temper today?”
She pushes herself to sit upright, wrinkling her nose at the dress as she takes a fistful of it in her hand. “Orange?” She scoffs, tossing it back down onto the bed. “I thought we were wearing blue?”
Sola shrugs, plopping down onto the mattress. “Padmé changed her mind last minute,” she says. “I suppose if we wore blue, we’d mesh with the background, don’t you think?”
She sighs and flops back down against her pillows, one arm folded over her stomach, the other folded behind her head. Sola pokes her forefinger against her knee and she grumbles, narrowing her eyes at the ceiling.
“Now, answer the question,” her oldest sister insists. “What’s the matter with you?”
Her eyelids flutter closed and she wishes more than anything that she could simply wink out of existence. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be here for Padmé, she does, but she’s uncertain how she could possibly explain how she feels to Sola in a way she could understand. It’s exactly this that’s made her feel so alone all these years.
She’s never had someone who could understand her, really get her. She’s always been different from her sisters, even before marriage and coronations and political promotions. It’s something she’s certain her sisters have known, that even her parents must’ve known. She’s never been jovial and nurturing like Sola, or clever and independent like Padmé. She’s always preferred silence and privacy, and maybe that’s been her problem. But it’s all she knows, being alone.
Sola’s never spent years yearning for a boy who yearns for another, so she couldn’t possibly understand. She doesn’t think she could even make her understand.
She sighs, lolling her head to the side until her gaze finds Sola’s.
“Not looking forward to wearing that dress for the entire evening,” she says instead. Sola’s eyes roll and she leans over to pinch her calf beneath the covers. She hisses and swats her sister’s hand away as she clicks her tongue, moving out of the way.
“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” Sola tries to reason.
“It’s hideous,” she deadpans.
Sola deflates with the acceptance of her defeat. She grabs her sister’s knee, giving it a shake. She glares at her older sister.
“Come on, that can’t be the only reason why you’re in such a foul mood,” Sola insists, her bottom lip rolling in a pout and she swears it’s almost comical how her eldest sister can act like such a child. It’s a wonder how she has children of her own.
She blinks at Sola as a sort of realization creeps onto her eldest sister’s face and she blinks, internally grimacing. For she knows that whatever is bound to come out of her sister’s mouth next is going to be completely and utterly wrong.
“I think I get it now,” Sola’s tone is softer, her face falling to match it. “You’re upset you’ll be the last of us to be married.”
And there it is.
She internally cringes at just how wrong Sola is but she says nothing, further prompting her sister to lean forward, reaching for the hand that rests on her stomach. Her muscles stiffen when she takes it and she wills herself to stay still. It was better to let Sola say whatever she had to say than recoil and deny it— it’s not like she had any better excuse anyways.
“I know it can be tough,” she begins. “Feeling like you’re left out. Believe me, I had my fair share of it. I was so jealous of yours and Padmé’s relationship when you were younger because I was so much older, I felt like I just didn’t quite fit in with you two.”
Her eyes finally meet Sola’s and she begins to see her eldest sister in a different light. All this time, she’s believed she’s the only one who’s felt this way— lost, left behind. While this isn’t quite the same context, she still feels her heart tremble in her chest for her sister, still feels like something’s shifted. It’s at least one thing they can understand each other on.
“But then, I found my husband. And then I had Ryoo and Pooja,” Sola continues. “And it was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
Sola’s grip tightens around her hand and she leans forward to place her other one on top. “I know it must seem hard, seeing as both Padmé and I are married— well, almost anyway.” Her lips curve into a soft, reassuring grin. “But you’ll find that same happiness one day. I just know it. So don’t fret, little sister.”
And there, she fears, is where her sister misses the plot.
She almost wants to laugh at how ridiculous this all sounds. She remains silent, however, and Sola gives the back of her hand one last reassuring pat before she lets go, sliding off of the mattress.
“Anyways, I’m going to breakfast. You should come too before all the blue waffles are gone.”
She watches as her eldest sister slips out of the room, the door sliding closed behind her and she sighs, digging her knuckles into her closed eyelids until the galaxy shimmers before her. How could Sola have come so close to understanding her one minute only to read her so wrong the next?
She doesn’t make any effort to get out of bed and in all honesty, she wishes she could simply stay here forever, or at least for the rest of the night. At least long enough that she doesn’t have to face Anakin Skywalker.
Because even though she’s already promised herself that she’d let him go, she wasn’t entirely certain she could hold true to her own word when she sees him again.
The day goes by in a blur. In the blink of an eye, she’s wearing a satin dress in that deep orange she finds hideous beside Sola who stands beside Padmé. Padmé stands facing her husband-to-be, fingertips delicately placed in his palms as they recite their vows.
The sun paints the villa’s terrace with an orange glow and she watches it sink beneath the mountains across the lake from the corner of her eye. The sunlight looks like fire rippling in the gentle waves of the water below and she has to look away because she thinks of Anakin, how his eyes glimmer just the same.
She’s determined to keep her gaze away from the audience, however, because she knows he’s there, the incarnation of all she’s ever wanted, of all her bad ideas, of everything she cannot trust herself with in one. She searches the ground below, watches the way her dress ruffles with the breeze, like fire askew in the wind.
Padmé says something that makes the audience erupt in laughter and it startles her, so much that the hair on the back of her neck erects. When she flinches, she makes the mistake of blinking up— right into the eyes she’d been bound to avoid all night.
The world around Anakin Skywalker seems to stir until it’s all wet, blurry hues of orange, green, and white. Anakin is the only one she sees in high resolution— she can see every lock of wavy, dark blonde hair, every rippling wave in his irises, the scarlet line that slices just beside his right eye. She’d never seen this scar before— it must be new.
But what’s the most peculiar of all is that she meets his eyes— she meets his eyes. She’d blinked up to find he’d already been staring, already transfixed on her by the time their gazes met and his eyes had illuminated with that same knowing gleam she’d seen in them that day in the royal courtyard.
Anakin Skywalker is looking at her and she is not in a dream. It’s both momentous and utterly devastating all the same.
She isn’t quite sure whether to look away or not. This is what she's mooned over more times than her pride will allow her to admit. She’s dreamed this many nights, for Anakin Skywalker to simply look at her and now he is. Anakin Skywalker is looking at her and she should feel elated but instead she feels… conflicted.
Does her heart flutter in her chest? Sure.
Does her stomach twist itself into knots? Certainly.
She felt so confident just the night before when she threw her hands up in surrender to the black sky, admitting her defeat to the stars who spent many moons mocking her that she was done. She felt so confident that she was ready to move on, to let go of this desire she’s harbored for Anakin for so long.
With the simplest of looks, Anakin Skywalker has proven capable of crumpling the paper walls she’d placed around herself. She was left feeling feeble, exposed and any sense of courage she thought she had was now lost.
Because three years of waiting and praying to higher entities who did not hear her pleas could not cease overnight. Her attraction to Anakin Skywalker could not cease in hours. She thought she’d extinguished the last flames of her withering hope but, as it turns out, a single dying ember remained. It means a part of her still yearned for him. A part of her still burned for him.
She wonders now, that he’s still looking at her, what possibly goes on inside his head. Why does he look at her now? Why does he stare, why do his lips twitch before curving in a smile when their eyes meet, why do they irradiate the longer her gaze lingers on his? Why does he not look sad at the wedding of the woman he loves? Why does he not even look at Padmé?
Her mind swirls like a tempest— churning with unhinged, vicious anguish. She has to look away before the acid that bubbles in her throat can come to fruition but she can’t, and Anakin seemingly can’t tear his gaze away from her either. It’s all the more sickening and earth-shattering nonetheless. Her heart swells and pounds in her chest, the border of her vision beginning to blur with the familiar sting of tears. Her head is aching and it’s all just too much— she needs an escape.
“I now pronounce you, husband and wife.”
She blinks away her emotion to the best of her ability, using the end of the ceremony as an excuse to look away as the crowd around her thunders with applause. Her mind is reeling and she feels like her head is spinning as she subconsciously claps her palms together, the sound muffled like water in her ears. The watercolor around her stirs until it’s clear again and the entire world suddenly seems to move again— it’s her, this time, that’s in slow motion.
The cheering sounds like thunder, the applause like rain pelting against a window, and her mind begins to crumple, just like metal. She longs for escape, to flee and to be beside herself for the rest of the night. Padmé and her husband begin walking back down the aisle as their guests congratulate them, tossing flower petals into the air above them. She thinks that this is her chance to escape, she thinks everyone is distracted enough that no one will notice her leaving.
They never cared to notice her before anyways.
She begins to shuffle away but she doesn’t make it very far before her stomach lurches when someone clasps a hand around her wrist, tugging her forward. She snaps her head to the source to find her eldest sister, Sola, with her face illuminated by a grin.
“Come on!” Sola exclaims, dragging her down the aisle and back inside the villa. “It’s time to party!”
Dread drains the blood from her cheeks but she’s given no time to protest before she’s being dragged down the aisle, right past Anakin Skywalker. She doesn’t dare look up but she feels him when she passes by, a mere brush of the arms, the feeling of his elbow brushing going just as fast as it came.
And it’s still enough to make liquid of her insides.
She drowns in a sea of people as she and Sola find Padmé, wrapped in their mother’s arms. She can hear her heart drum in her ears as Sola releases her hand to draw Padmé into an embrace, tears streaming down the apples of her cheeks. Everyone around her is so happy and she should be too— but she still feels like she’s beside the altar, caught in the trap Anakin has seemingly laid out for her.
A tear that’s been painfully dormant in her eye falls and she’s certain her distress shows on her face but it must be easily mistaken for tears of joy, because Padmé pulls away from Sola to turn to her, drawing her in for a hug. Her sister’s arms wrap around her body, a palm on her back, the other cupping the back of her head. Even Sola reaches forward to give her upper arm a reassuring squeeze, undoubtedly thinking back to the conversation they’d had earlier.
“Don’t cry for me, baby sister,” Padmé laughs tearfully beside her ear. She can feel Padmé’s smile against her shoulder. She pulls away and rubs her palms up and down the length of her arms. “I’m still the same Padmé I’ve always been.”
She’s unable to reply— again, she’s misunderstood. But it’s her sister’s wedding day, she won’t burden her with her own confliction. So she swallows the boulder-sized lump in her throat, curving her lips just enough to form a tight-lipped smile.
“I’m just… happy for you,” she manages. Padmé cups her cheek and soothes the pad of her thumb over her skin before Ryoo and Pooja draw her attention away. Padmé’s hands fall from her arms and finally, she can breathe.
But even that is momentary.
“You make a perfectly fine bride if I do say so myself, Senator.”
Her spine stiffens. She knows that voice. And she knows exactly who is near when she hears it.
Padmé laughs and tosses her hands. “Obi-Wan,” she greets him just like an old friend would, pulling him in for an embrace. “And little Ani.”
How is it that she’s already seen him more tonight than she has in the past three years? She sees Anakin’s dark boots from the top of her vision, not daring to tear her gaze from the ground.
“Padmé,” Anakin’s deep, enriching voice sounds and rumbles deep in her belly. She shifts uncomfortably where she stands, desperate to flee. She thinks she can manage it now— Obi-Wan and Anakin are engrossed with Padmé now, right?
She begins to make her first attempt of escape, taking slow, careful steps to the side until her second effort crumbles when Anakin speaks her name.
Ice frosts over her spine and she’s no choice but to acknowledge the man she was so intent on avoiding the entire evening. Padmé and Obi-Wan are engrossed in their own conversation but Anakin’s gaze remains on her, eyes even sparkling when she finally meets them.
Her mouth is a desiccated oasis and her throat feels like a desert as it constricts painfully when she swallows. Still, she manages to breathe out, “Anakin.”
It’s the first time she can ever recall having a true, proper conversation with him. The last time being when they said their goodbyes that very first time before he and Padmé left for the Lake Country. It’s confusing how this is everything she’s ever wanted yet, she feels an urge to push it all away.
Anakin clears his throat and his eyes flicker to his feet for a moment as if he could possibly be nervous before they find hers again. “You look good,” he says and her heart stops beating in her chest. “That dress is beautiful on you.”
She thinks she could punch him.
Or kiss him.
She has to look away, or she may very well do the latter.
She wonders if this is some cruel, senseless joke the Maker is playing on her. She wonders if she’d upset him by unlatching herself from his hook and this is his way of reeling her back in. She hates that it has the potential to work.
“I…” she stammers and closes her lids frustratedly, willing air back into her lungs. She shakes her head— she cannot be here any longer. She may very well explode if she has to succumb to this torture for even a second more. “…thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
And then, she bolts.
She’s lost track of how long she’s been locked in her room, sitting in the window, staring at the moonlight that ripples in the water below. It was long enough for the chatter downstairs to quiet to murmurs until it finally ceased altogether. The villa is now quiet and suddenly, her room feels suffocating.
With a sigh, her feet meet the floor and she pushes away from the window seat, cupping her neck to roll it around her shoulders as she pads towards the door. It slides open and she slips through, making her way down the hallway leading towards the main foyer. Her dress flows behind her like flames in the wind, the satin cool against her legs as she walks. Fresh, night air greets her and she inhales, letting it flood her lungs as she saunters to the wide terrace ahead.
She stops at the stone arches of the railing and exhales, feeling the wind sift its fingers through her hair, breathing on her skin like a lover in the throes of passion. It caresses her neck and rolls down her back, leaving gooseflesh in its wake.
She’d spent many nights just like this one. Staring at the moon rippling through the water, at the stars that twinkle overhead, the sky that blackens behind them. She’d spent many nights praying, releasing her pleas into the air and letting it drift away with the breeze.
She does not pray this time. When she lifts her head to brave the dark that faces her, she merely asks why.
“Why, Maker,” she whispers beneath her breath. There’s an edge, a strain to her voice that stings her throat, that feels like daggers to her chest. “Why must you be so cruel? I have done everything, I have given you everything. Why wasn’t it enough? Why do you mock me now?”
The stars overhead gleam as they cackle, sneering at the misfit below. “You’ll never have a place among us,” they seem to say. Tears well in her eyes and she drops her head, fingernails scraping the stone edge of the railing. She leans back on her heels and wills herself to breathe before a sob could wrack her body.
She feels lost and utterly alone, and she truly begins to feel like the weight of this prolonged pain has started to fall on top of her. She’s lost and alone and her entire world has started to crumble around her. And then she hears her name.
It’s like the call that haunts her every time she closes her eyes, the same velvety voice that caresses her ear every night when she lies down in bed. But it is not a ghostly whisper this time, because it is real.
Footsteps sound behind her and she further scratches her nails against the railing.
“I was wondering where you wandered off to,” Anakin remarks as he approaches and she can feel him beside her, like a whisper of shadow creeping along her skin. She rolls back onto the balls of her feet and stands straight, sniffing.
“Anakin,” she says, steadily, methodically. As if it took great effort to say it without stammering. She can see him out of her peripheral, dark blonde curls falling when he leans an elbow against the railing, tilting his head in an attempt to meet her eye.
She does not move.
“I was looking for you, you know,” he continues. “You must’ve found a good hiding spot.”
She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was in my room,” she replies simply, a steely, monotone in her voice.
Anakin inhales and hums. “Then it makes sense why I could not find you. I would never barge into a lady’s room.”
It’s an attempt at humor but she feels anything but. She’s stuck between a rock and a hard place with seemingly no clear solution in sight. She could walk away. She should walk away. She shouldn't spend a single second more in Anakin Skywalker’s presence— she simply couldn’t trust herself to not betray her own vow.
Or she could stay. She could stay and once again succumb to the fool’s game she’s been playing. She could stay and let Anakin Skywalker tie another noose around her neck, allowing him to drag her along for another three years.
She knows what is right. She knows what she should do.
But she’s frozen.
She cannot move, cannot even bring her lips to move so she can speak. She instead wilts, like a rose who once stood beautifully now losing its color, shriveling in on herself until she inevitably withers away.
She can feel Anakin draw himself just an inch closer beside her, and he’s like a single drop of rain that’s enough to somewhat salvage the husk of who she once was.
“Why do you avoid me?” He asks and it’s a question so simply but so damn infuriating all the while. She’s been a volcano in dormancy up until this point, but there’s a rumbling deep within her, threatening to erupt.
“Why are you doing this?” She questions, snapping her head towards him, brows dipped and drawn. Anakin blinks and draws back, a dent forming between his own brows.
“Doing what?” He asks and that feeling of wanting to ram her fist into his face comes back. She turns to fully face him and he pushes off the railing, uncertainty warping his features.
“This,” she gestures between them. “Staring at me. Talking to me. As if we’ve spoken more than hellos and goodbyes to each other.”
Anakin raises a brow, the one his scar pierces, and it warps with the movement.
She continues. “And then you have the audacity to tell me I look beautiful in this gods-awful dress just to spite me.” She is a volcano, no longer dormant, no longer overlooked. She is exploding and Anakin is unfortunate enough to be in her wake.
He shakes his head. “Spite you?” He repeats. She begins to pace, a hand on her hip, the other rubbing her chin. Anakin follows, exactly like a lost puppy. “I wasn’t— I would never—“
“Don’t say you’d never,” she turns on him, sticking an accusatory finger in his face. He blinks from it back to her, that ocean in the irises of his eyes raging, lightning cracking in the sinkhole at its center. She drops her hand and it curls at her side, her fists two shaking balls of fury. Blood bites her cheeks and she thinks of all the times she’s imagined speaking with Anakin Skywalker, of being alone with him.
This certainly was not how she’d ever imagined the scenario playing out.
She inhales. “Don’t say you’d never do anything to spite me while you are actively using me to get over Padmé,” she exhales, braving the stormy sea in his eyes. The tide shifts and his manner does too and she believes she’s already cracked him. She thinks she’s already shattered the illusion he was trying to create, that she’s lifted the wool he’s tried to veil over her eyes.
She thinks that he believes whatever game he was trying to play was over.
Anakin straightens. “You have no idea what you are talking about,” he says and she scoffs, backing away.
“Don’t I?” She retorts. “You don’t think I’ve noticed how you’ve always looked at her? How you’ve always loved her?”
It brings her great pain to merely mention it. Her palms wipe at her face as tears begin welling in her eyes again, her cheeks warm as she desperately tries to quell the beginnings of a sob that stutters through her chest. She realizes now that by keeping all of these emotions, these feelings she’s harbored for Anakin for so long bottled has made her restless, has made her tick like a time bomb.
And her time to detonate has come.
He says her name again and tries to step forward, reeling back when she steps away from him. His hand wrapped in a leather glove hovers in the air between them and he drops it with an exasperated sigh.
“Your sister means a great deal to me, yes,” he begins. “But it is not—“
“My sister is the sole reason why you torment me!” She snaps. “And you have no right to use how I feel against me just because she does not love you back.”
Her words are an arrow meant to strike, to pierce through his chest, his heart her target. Her words are meant to cut deep, to draw blood, to make him bleed just like she has everyday since they met. She thinks they will, she thinks her blows will etch deep, will even leave scars in their wake. Part of her longs to see that pained expression upon his face, just like the one she wears now.
But her arrow merely grazes, soaring past until it sinks in the shining waters below.
Anakin’s face shifts but it is not in the way she thought it would, not in the way she hoped it would. His brows dip and his eyes swarm with a pained sort of desperation she’s never seen before in someone. She certainly never expected to see it in someone like him. His chest rises and falls with his breaths as he steps forward again. She stands still, unable to move. She is stunned— Anakin Skywalker has surprised her.
“Padmé does not love me,” he admits. “I met her when I was only a child. The only girl I’d ever seen before her was my own mother. So, of course, I felt drawn to her.” Her jaw tightens and her lips fall together in a firm, thin line. Anakin’s brows knit closer together and there’s a flicker in his eyes that she swears looks like the predecessor to tears.
She doesn’t quite want to believe it. He could not cry.
“And I spent a decade pining, a decade praying that I’d one day see her again, a decade hoping she’d been counting down the days until she saw me again, just like I was.”
She doesn’t believe what she’s hearing. It’s a reflection of her own story, her own foolish pining, her own foolish praying but not hers, but Anakin’s. Her heart stutters in her chest and she forgets to breathe, having to gasp to gather air back into her lungs.
She’s never once felt like she could be understood. She’s never once felt like anyone else could experience the inner turmoil she has, the seemingly fruitless yearning she has.
But she’s realizing now that that's not true. Not anymore, at least. Everything is changing right before her eyes.
“And then I did,” Anakin shakes his head, a humorless laugh leaving his lips. “And I felt nothing. But I tried. I tried to convince myself I loved her. But I just… didn’t.”
Her brow furrows and Anakin’s gaze darkens as it finds hers.
“I spent a decade obsessing over someone I didn’t really know, and how could I? I was a child.” His eyes search hers, searching for something unbeknownst to her. But she lets him. “I didn’t know what love was. All I knew was infatuation. I didn’t know what it meant to truly feel seen, to truly feel drawn to someone.”
Anakin pauses and she gets the feeling that whatever he says next will be calamitous.
“Until I saw you again, that day outside the palace.”
Her lips tremble and her breath shudders, an icy chill frosting over her skin. To think he’s thought about her everyday since their eyes briefly met in the midst of a crowded courtyard was hard to believe yet, when she looks at Anakin Skywalker now, she sees the softening of his brow, the quiver in his lips, the honesty in his eyes.
She’s only ever imagined one look in his eyes. Desire.
But she looks at him now and finds an entire galaxy— there’s longing, there’s earnest, there’s optimism, there’s burning. As it turns out, living creatures are not black and white like she initially thought them to be. Anakin Skywalker is a complex creature, made of flesh and blood and of an intricacy she’d never stopped to consider before.
He’s even better than she’s imagined he’d be.
Every moment spent under the stars, praying that she’d one day have a place among them, that she one day would sit among them with purpose rather than in an ellipsis suddenly begins to feel like it wasn’t all for nothing after all. Every prayer she’s whispered into the night breeze with Anakin Skywalker’s name in it suddenly feels like they begin to matter, like they begin to come true.
Still, she is wary, and Anakin seems to recognize this caution.
He takes a step closer and he steals the breath from her chest, just like he had the first moment she saw him. Her fingers twitch, itching to find his, her palms tingling with the desire to feel his skin, her lips buzzing with yearning. She does not touch him, she does not kiss him, she does not do anything. She simply waits for the rest of his story to unfold and her brain aches with the hope that it will unravel into hers.
“I saw you that day at the palace to find you were already looking at me. That you were already seeing me,” he mutters, a little breathlessly. “It may have been for… for only a moment but when you looked at me, I felt…” he trails off, a furrow in his brow as he searches for the correct word. “…I felt… like something shifted.”
She watches as he rolls his lips together, watches as the moonlight catches how they glisten with spittle. Her breath catches a little bit, her gaze lingering there, her desire to lap it all up flaring.
“It felt like there was a string there between us I’d never noticed before,” he continues. “There was a connection I’d never realized until the moment our eyes met. I felt you, and I felt you see me. There hasn’t been a day that’s passed by since where I didn’t feel you, where I didn’t feel like we were connected, like we were two stars written in the same constellation.”
Her chest rises and falls to the erratic beating of her heart as Anakin draws nearer, the hand with his glove meeting her cheek with a tenderness she’d felt from no one before. She’d never realized how starved of touch she’s been until now and it feels so invigorating. Her stare drops to his lips and she feels that string Anakin must’ve been talking about, feels it drawing her closer into his mouth.
“Padmé does not love me back, and I do not care,” he says in just above a whisper, his voice rising and falling in a way that jellifies her knees, that makes liquid of her insides. “Because I am burning– foolishly, maybe, yes– for you.”
She inhales sharply and it truly feels like all her prayers are finally being answered, like she’s being inducted into her rightful place in the sea of stars. And in her constellation, Anakin Skywalker resides too.
She reaches up with a hand to hold the crook of his elbow that’s strung between them as he brings his other, ungloved hand to rest on her other cheek. She feels his skin on her cheek as the pad of his thumb soothes over the warmth of her flesh and her body quakes with shivers that roll down her spine all the way to her toes. He begins to lean in, his breath hot where it fans against her skin but she tilts backwards, just enough for him to halt, a quirk in one of his brows.
“I will not let you settle for me, Anakin Skywalker,” she whispers, admitting that insecurity still lingers, despite his words. Anakin’s eyes narrow as he uses his hands on either sides of her face to draw her in, his lips but a mere whisper away from hers when he murmurs, “settle? This is not settling. This is binding.”
Then, his lips are on hers in an electrifying bind that shatters her spine with cracks of lightning and she falls into him, her hands on either of his forearms to keep herself steady.
Anakin kisses her with an ardor she could never even dream up in all of her wildest of fantasies. He kisses her and she feels like she finally fits in her dress, as it is the color of fire and she’s engulfed in flames. He kisses her and he is the flame that lights her candle, the flame that melts her from the center, that makes heat course through her that washes all the way down to her toes. He kisses her and she is melting, right into him.
His tongue pirouettes over hers and she hums into his mouth, feeling his fingers thread through her hair. Her heart is pounding and her lips are buzzing but all she feels is Anakin, she feels the muscles in his arms, the warmth that radiates off his body and spills into her. She feels the push and pull of the passion, the yearning he’s kept inside all this time. She feels her own longing and fervor pour into him and they are floating, two clouds that collide into one another to become one.
Anakin steps forward and steps backwards until she hits a wall. When they pull away for breath, she realizes he’s backed her into one of the pillars, a vine caught in the hair on the back of her head. Their chests heave with the weight of their breaths and she watches as Anakin’s hand, not the gloved one, but the one with skin rises, following it as it reaches for her neck. She shudders when he touches her collarbone, exposed from the side of the fiery satin of her dress. His fingertips sear her skin as it drags to the neck of her dress, following the satin where it wraps around her throat, all the way to the back of her neck where the lace falls.
Her breath catches when his fingers find the small strings keeping her dress together. Her gaze finds his again to find he’s already staring, a narrow, earnest look upon his face that darkens his eyes and hardens his features. There is a silent question that hangs in the air between them: “do you want to stop?”
Maybe they’re moving too fast. Maybe this is crazy, maybe they’re simply caught up in the moment, high off the feeling of burning for someone who burns for them too. But after years of pining, of waiting, of praying, it only feels right.
But still, she asks, “what if someone sees? Someone like Obi-Wan who can get you in trouble?”
Anakin shakes his head, “they won’t. Now, I don’t want to talk about Obi-Wan. Do you want to stop?”
The shake of her head is all Anakin needs to see before he unlaces the strings holding her dress together, the satin falling like a spark blazing down the frayed edges of a rope until it pools at her elbows. Her breasts spill from the dress and the night’s ghostly whisper chills her skin, peaking her nipples.
Anakin’s eyes devour and she is prey.
His stare pierces through her skin to the marrow of her bones that catch a chill and she quakes. He meets her eyes again as his hands drift lower, dipping until they finally find her chest. A sharp gasp escapes when his palms cup either of her breasts and she arches into his touch, already aching for more.
“Anakin!” She gasps in a breathy exclaim when he dips his chin to press a kiss over the top of one of her breasts, heat blossoming in his lips’ wake. His eyes catch her again, a little warily. “Is this okay?” He asks, his voice low and gravely, scratching the itch in her brain she didn’t even know she had. It makes her knees feel weak and if it hadn’t been for his body pressed up against hers, she would’ve crumpled straight to the ground.
“Yes,” she breathes, chest heaving into his palms. “I’m sorry, I’ve just… never…”
Anakin’s lips curve and she can see a flash of white peek between them. He shakes his head. “Me neither,” he admits with a breathy laugh and she titters too, grateful for the fact that she’s not the only one who’s a little green.
“Can I keep going?” He questions and his voice is liquid desire, melting straight down to her core. She swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, nodding. “Please,” she adds, feeling her heart beat straight into his palm.
Anakin’s head dips again and she watches, cheeks warm as he places an open-mouthed kiss just above her nipple. His palm kneads the other breast as his lips venture just an inch lower, finding the peaked bud that awaits, suckling it into his mouth.
It’s like electricity flooding through her veins.
She throws her head back, lips falling agape as her eyelids snap closed, soaking in the pleasure of Anakin’s lips on her nipple. He cautiously flicks his tongue against the bud, watching through his lids as a moan falls from her lips, encouraging him to do it again. He flattens his tongue against her nipple and licks a long, fat stripe from the underside of it up, feeling her tremble in his arms. He lets go of her breast with a wet pop, trailing kisses through the valley between them to make his way to the other.
Touching him, feeling him, kissing him is somehow even better than she’d ever imagined, even after all those years of dreaming for moments like this. She can’t believe she’s gone so long without feeling him like this, she doesn’t think she can ever stop touching him.
Anakin suckles on her breast, flicking his tongue against her nipple as his hand not wrapped in a glove ventures down her body, past her waist, down her hip. He pulls the satin material of her dress up until his arm can sneak his way beneath it and she shivers when his fingers find her center over her underwear. Her nails dig into his sleeves above his shoulders, holding her breath as he finds the wet spot in her underwear, gently pressing against it.
Her hands tighten on his shoulders and ceases all movement, peering up at her. “You’re wet,” he says rather matter-of-factly because of course she is, how could she not be? She nods down at him, swallowing thick layers of saliva down her throat. “Can I touch you here?” He asks and his voice drops to that silky, velvety tone that makes her core ache. She presses her lips together to stifle her groan, head vigorously nodding up and down.
“Gods yes, Anakin,” she moans, slowly rocking her hips against his finger. “Please.”
She feels filthy in a way for asking, for needing friction so desperately. She’s only ever taken her own fingers when she’s too lost in pleasure at night to sleep, never been touched by anyone else but it’s all she craves now, for Anakin’s fingers to touch her, for him— whatever part it may be— to be inside her.
A flame had been ignited in the pit of her belly long ago, back when Anakin first stepped through the door the day they met. It’s sat stagnant for too long, waiting for its moment to further bloom and now it has. It blossomed when her eyes met Anakin’s that day in the courtyard but it’s now in full bloom, now that they burn together, now that his kisses have seared her skin, now that his fingers are pulling her underwear down her thighs, just enough that he can reach her center.
When his fingertips brush her clit, she bursts.
Anakin’s arm wraps around her waist as she practically collapses into him, his middle finger drawing circles against her clit, his breath hot as his lips rest on her brow.
“Is this good?” He asks against her forehead. “Do you feel good?” He questions again as he adds his forefinger to the mix, applying just a little more pressure and it makes her eyes roll.
“Yes, just… just don’t stop,” she exhales, feeling her stomach twist itself into a knot, his fingers against her clit threatening to pull it undone any moment.
So he doesn’t.
He’s unrelenting in the way his fingers press to the aching bud in her center, tracing tight circles until her eyes squeeze closed so hard, milky-ways shimmer behind her lids. He dares venture lower, gathering her slick on the pads of his fingers as he teases near her entrance. It’s a foreign and strange feeling, it’s a pattern she’s traced many times with her own fingers but never been touched by someone else. Even in spite of how many nights she spent trekking that path wishing it was Anakin’s fingers instead, but it’s still strange feeling him there now.
She clutches his arm tighter and he slows, beginning to retract his hand. She stops him, lifting her head until their eyes meet again.
“No,” she pants, shaking her head. “Don’t stop, just… just take it slow.”
He nods, his finger a little unsure as it circles her entrance, unintentionally teasing until she begins to crack. She’s panting, trying to wiggle her hips so that she can draw his fingers in, seeking that feeling of being full. Anakin dips his forefinger into her hole and she tosses her head back, her lips parting for an “oh” to emit.
He watches her face, even if she can’t see it, she can feel his gaze behind her closed lids. He is testing the waters, learning what makes her moan, what makes her squirm, what makes her come. Slowly, he sinks his finger further in and she feels every single millimeter that drags along her walls until he’s knuckle deep. Her legs feel like jelly and her knees begin to wobble, nails clinging to his sleeves like they were her lifeline.
Pressure builds in the pit of her belly as Anakin carefully retracts his finger, just to sink it back in again, a slow, cautious rhythm that leaves her mind spinning. His fingers are so much bigger than hers and she already feels so stuffed despite it only being one finger. Somehow, it’s too much and not enough at the same time.
“Ana… Anakin,” she gasps, peeling open her lids to find he’s already looking. His finger slows but picks up its pace again when he realizes she’s not in any pain. “Another.”
His brow dips and his head tilts in confusion, uncertain what she means. She gathers moisture on her lips, trying to speak through the pleasure-driven haze in her mind.
“Another finger. Please.”
Their eyes lock and there’s a flicker in his, a hint of doubt.
“Are you su—“
“Please.”
So, Anakin gathers her lips with his and she mewls into his mouth when he presses his middle against his pointer, sinking them into her cunt until they reach as far as they can. She’s trembling against him but he keeps her upright, with his arm and with his lips.
Just one of Anakin’s fingers had made her feel stuffed but two of his fingers made her feel full to the brim. Her walls clench around his fingers and she gasps his name like the beginning of a prayer, pleading for more.
It’s a twist on the prayers she recites to the Maker every night. It’s rewriting her every broken hymn, transforming it into something entirely new. She moans Anakin’s name and his fingers turn it into a song so that she cries like a dove into the night. The Maker may have left her feeling broken, wasted, unimportant but Anakin has found her, patched her up, polished her until she’s brand new.
The tangle in her belly begins to rupture, slowly unraveling and so she pushes his arm away, his fingers sliding out of her cunt, her walls pulsing with the loss. They both pant and Anakin’s face hardens in question as his chest heaves.
“What is it?” He asks, searching her face.
She gathers air deep in her chest. “I want…” She trails off, her embarrassment washing over her cheeks in blood. Her gaze drops and Anakin tilts his head to find it again, their eyes locked. He says nothing, only the nod of his head encourages her to continue. “…I want more. I want… I want you to…”
She purses her lips in frustration. For heaven’s sake, she’s talking to the man who just had his fingers inside of her mere moments ago. Why does she feel embarrassed now?
She takes another deep breath, mustering the courage to tell what she truly wants. “…I want you to feel good too.”
Something shifts in Anakin’s eyes. It could be easily mistaken as a trick of the light but she sees it, she feels it. Anakin is burning just the same as her, his pupils becoming a backdrop behind the fires of desire, and she burns within it.
She watches as Anakin’s hand sinks below the belt around his middle, all the way down to the waistband of his trousers beneath his dark tunic. She watches with her breath lodged at the base of her throat as he pulls down his pants, just enough for his cock to be set free and oh, it is just like her dreams but even better.
Nothing could have ever prepared her for the sight of Anakin Skywalker’s cock. Not even the wildest of her dreams could ever capture the essence of the art of Anakin Skywalker. He is handcrafted by the gods themselves— he is the physical embodiment of masterpiece.
He steps forward and towers over her, his breath like smoke rolling over her face. She peers up at him, her chest heaving with the effort of breathing. His hands find either side of her face and she stops breathing altogether, wondering what he will do next.
Then, “put your arms here,” he whispers, guiding her arms over his shoulder. “And hold on.”
She squeals when he drops his hands to the undersides of her thighs, lifting her off the ground so that her ankles lock behind his back. Her arms tighten around his neck as he presses her back against the pillar, his chest pressed into hers. She can feel his length as it’s squeezed between either of their bodies and her walls clench around nothing, practically sobbing to feel him inside.
For a moment, the world stills around them and it’s like when she sees him in the audience during Padmé’s wedding. The night stirs and blurs until it’s dark watercolor, but Anakin is what she sees in high resolution. It’s the perfect mirage— she and Anakin feel like two stars in the middle of the black abyss above, forming their own little constellation.
And when Anakin finally slides himself inside of her, she feels like her place in the sea of stars has been cemented. She finally feels like she’s where she belongs.
a/n; SO! MY LONGEST IMAGINE YET.... may or may not have gotten a bit carried away (more like a little too wordy...) BUT! i really hope some of you enjoy and i truly appreciate anyone who reads this all the way through. i know 10k words is a lot 😭 also i hope this doesn’t seem too insta-lovey… this idea just came to me in a dream so i wrote what I dreamt lol
💫 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶
TAGLIST
@your-nanas-house
@chaoticevilbakugo
@k1ttenmittonz
#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker fanfiction#star wars anakin#anakin skywalker#anakin x reader#anakin smut#anakin x you#anakin skywalker x you#star wars#star wars prequels#star wars fanfiction#star wars imagine
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being a wag is hard | oscar piastri
pairing: oscar piastri x rock star!reader
summary: oscar spends a week as the most hated ‘wag.’ he thinks he can handle it. he can’t.
notes: beware!!! oscar hate ahead 😞 pls send in request!!
ynupdates: y/n was seen at the monaco grand prix today! she was said to be in the mclaren garage, hanging out with the two drivers, lando norris and oscar piastri.
view comments below!
user1: NO Y/N STAY AWAY FROM THOSE MUSTY MEN
user2: oh y/n no…
user3: those m-men 🤮🤮 better not lay a HAND on queen y/n
user4: why did i just see a photo of y/n and that oscar kid making out on my timeline…
user5: WHAT
user6: YOURE FUCKING KIDIDNG ME
user7: pls tell me your lying before i actually hurl up my lunch
user8: NOOOO
user9: i just fell to my knees in h-mart
user10: maybe she’s just there to watch the race?? 😰😰
user11: literally praying that’s all it is 😞
ynupdates: i am heartbroken to say that it seems like y/n is going out with f1 driver oscar piastri. these were sent in last night.
view comments below!
user12: NOOOOOO
user13: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???
user14: NOOOOOOOOOOOO
user15: this can the real
user16: n-no no way
user17: A MAN???? HURL HURL HURL
user18: GAG
user19: no this can’t be right it can’t be
user20: i’m killing myself
user21: this can’t be true
user22: honestly i’m just happy it isn’t that twig ‘lando’
— y/n has posted new photos!
liked by, landonorris, and 723,928 others!
yourusername: monaco, i love you 🎸
view comments below!
user23: UGH YOU LOOK SO GOOD
user24: GIRL YOU ARE STUNNING
user25: pls come to africa next 💙💙
user26: I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AT THAT FUCKKNG CONCERT!! BUT THE TICKETS GOT SOULD OUT TO FAST 😡😡
user27: holy shit i just combusted
user28: why isn’t her b-boyfriend 🤮 in her likes OR comments??
user29: oscar what ever his last name is can’t HANDLE ALL THAT
user30: leave him for me baby 👀
user31: i can’t believe she’s dating an musty f1 man 🤢
user32: you could SO MUCH BETTER BABY 😒
— oscar piastri has posted new photos!
liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 973,928 others!
oscarpiastri: Feeling the Monégasque love this weekend 💛
view comments below!
user32: you’re not good enough for her
user33: free y/n 😔
user34: who do you think you are stealing my gf like that??
yourusername: who is that sexy sexy man
user35: NO Y/N LOOK AWAY
user36: NO THIS ISNT RIGHT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO FALL IN LOVE WITH ME AND WE GET MARRIED AND HAVE THREE KIDS
user37: leave y/n alone or i will gut you like a fish
user38: stop smiling. nothings funny.
— three days later!
liked by, oscar piastri, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 972,724 others!
yourusername: okay, stop hating on oscar now.
view comments below!
user39: okay!
user40: whatever you say queen 😁
user41: we just had to make sure he was right for you!!
user42: now that i’m taking a good look…he’s kinda cute?
user43: whatever you say 😍
landonorris: the switch up??
user44: who do you think you are
user45: get out of here
user46: oscar was just a tease, we will run you to the ground ugly ass
user47: who’s talking to you
landonorris: OMG IM SORRY???
user48: if he ever hurts her istg
user49: we will stop hating on oscar now 😵💫
#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri social media au#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 social media au#f1 smau
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You are not Special- DC X DP Prompt
Interdimensional God-like beings are not known for their patience, however it looked like they had gotten lucky.
This being that had been summoned against its will to their universe was actually quite calm. They sat back on a makeshift throne made by the cultists that had brought them here. Its body was the form of a young man draped in silk. He paid little mind to the cult bowing and scraping at his feet as he absentmindedly examined his nails for anything under them. They were as pristine as his marble-like form.
"You know cults get a bad reputation in these modern times." He said not looking up at the heroes who had invaded his sanctuary intent on sealing him away. "Not without cause of course. But not every cult is evil. As oxymoronic as that sounds. But it used to mean a group of people devoted to their god of choice, no different than any other religion except they lived solely to dedicate their lives to it. No tricks or schemes, just beliefs. None of that sacrifice or blood here though. I like cleanliness and a good batch of dessert for my alters."
"We aren't here to give your offerings." Batman said simply.
The teen stretched lazily and shrugged.
"You are free to just pray, take a rest, eat, or do whatever you want."
"You don't belong here. You must return to your own realm." Superman said fimly but cordially.
The cultists panicked as they looked between their god and the heroes. Some had disdain etched on their faces others had sadness.
"Don't belong? I do what I want. Who are you people to tell ME what to do? Do you own this planet? This universe?" The god challenged.
"We are the protectors of this planet. Surely you understand that we can't let you stay here using humans like servants." Superman retorted.
Constantine had a bad feeling about what came next as he got between everyone to speak.
"Sorry, forgive him. We don't want to offend. It's just that our universe has had enough beings like you causing issues in the past. We are a bit exhausted because every major event seems to hit our planet. We are a bit defensive."
The teens's lip curled.
"Do you think you are the only planet with such woes? How conceited. What you believe that your little planet is so special that it is the only one subject to the powers of beings you can't control? As we speak there a thousands of beings influencing this world that have a bigger effect than what I'm currently doing. Are you tired of being the playthings of the universe? Bah! The universe doesn't care one bit what goes on on this little planet over the billions of planets in this universe. You are no more special than a bit of algae on a frozen world." The teen sneered.
"But that doesn't change the fact that we would like one less threat to deal with," Batman said as Constantine tried to shut him up. "Even if you do not care about humans, we care what you can do to us."
"A good point but I never said I didn't care. I'm actually fond of humans but no more fond of them than any other lifeforms. There are billions of aliens in this universe alone. But not one is special because all life is special. Not one is better. But any damage I could possibly do to you could easily be done by the many unseen gods of this realm. These beings have built this world from those that actively created it, ignore it, and those that don't even realize it exists. Could you believe that your own creator doesn't know you are there? It's actually very common."
"You're dodging the question and talking in circles. We just want you to leave." Batman sighed irritably.
"You keep telling me to leave. I have just arrived but I've also always been here. Is this how you greet me?" The teen crossed his arms.
"Are you a god of this world?" Wonder Woman stepped forward this time. "You dress like that of a Roman god."
"Do you like it? I got it from Rome a few thousand years ago."
Well, he never failed to turn something into a compliment, that's for sure.
"But that's a complicated question. If you're asking if I made your universe then, no. If your asking if it exists because of me then, yes. It exists because I do. It's my nature. So I'm not a god. I'm a law of nature." The boy leaned back and kicked his feet childishly.
"You look like a kid." Clark blurted.
"Well... you're right. But you didn't have to point it out." He pouted.
"I mean, you just look...like a person. Not a force of nature." Clark quickly corrected.
"I look like what you can perceive me as. Can't ask a two-dimensional creature to understand three dimensions. Think of me as an anthropomorphic personification of a concept." The teen stood up finally and walked around his bowing worshippers.
"And what are you?" Batman said stiffly as the boy reached him.
"I am the Void. The absence of force or untethered space and infinite possibilities. A place of raw unprocessed energy. So if I exist then a tethered space with one string of possibilities exists. Think string theory." The boy laughed.
"Wait, I know what you are. You're an Ancient, an Endless. I thought I'd get a break from your lot after Morpheus." Constantine said.
The group turned to Constantine in surprise, not surprised that he knew what the kid was but that he had done this before.
"Look, kid. Your lot don't show themselves often. Especially not in front of so many people. You'd usually lay low among mortals." Constantine said suspicious of the young Endless. "Do the others know you are playing around?"
The teen presses his lips together. He glares like someone has ruined his game.
"Should I try summoning them and ask." Constantine smirked, he knew he found his in.
"You wouldn't." He frowned.
"I would." Constantine said "Unless you want to go home on your own."
The boy tried to protest but a portal opened on its own and a hand reached out grabbing the boy by the ear.
"What are you doing in the mortal realm this time?! I told you to focus on fixing the timelines not playing god like a child!" The voice boomed.
"But Clockwork-" The teen whined as he was dragged through the portal "I was just pulling a prank. I swear!"
The boy's voice was muffled and distant as he got to the other side. Then the prtal closed and it was over.
The room went silent.
"He was right. There is nothing special about any life form over another. But that also means he is no different than a human child and held to the same standards." Constantine said lighting a cigarette before leaving the ruins. "You can handle the rest right?"
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc prompt#danny fenton#batman#superman#wonder woman#john constantine#bruce wayne#clark kent#diana prince#dp clockwork#clockwork
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Your Own Happy Ending
Mouthwashing gang X Reader
AN: Can be read as platonic, and can be implied to be any/multiple characters. Except Jimmy. Fuck you Jimmy
Sum: Enough was enough. Time to get off this stupid Rock
Warnings: 18+, violence, sexual assault, revenge fic, talks about rape, gore, happy ending don’t worry, trauma, mouth wash, graphic violence, written by a victim of sexual assault and giving all of us that need to get revenge on our abusers. I see you, guys gals and nonbinary pals. I see you
This had to stop. He was going to just hurt more and more people. There will be more victims. You can’t become a victim, you can’t have the ones you love be under his hands. No. No one deserved this.
No one except him.
Curly was at deaths door, Anya is going to reach a point of no return in her pregnancy, Daisuke is on the edge of a mental break down, and even Swansea is shattering apart. One bottle of mouthwash at a time.
You didn’t know what will happen next. You were crashed in god knows where, but maybe there is a chance of hope. Maybe there is a way to get home. Maybe. Maybe maybe maybe.
The cockpit is full of foam, but who says you can’t just cut away at it enough to access a transmitter? What’s else is left to do? Not like waiting and praying is helping.
Would explain why Jimmy refused to let anyone have the keys to the pit.
He didn’t want his sins to escape.
You’ll make them escape out of his damn body.
There was no way Anya was going to tell you where the gun was. Guess that means you’ll need to improvise. Had a ax. A ax can do it, but getting it away from Swansea is going to be troubling. He was keeping it as much for self defense at this point as you would have to.
You needed a weapon.
Your hands couldn’t handle it. Jimmy was able to do so much harm already. Anya was most likely not his only victim. He’s certainly done this before. Meaning he knows how to fight, and get someone pinned under him. There to do whatever he wanted.
You had to get him before he got you.
What else could be a weapon?
A knife? A knife!
You ran into the kitchen, much to the confusion of Swansea and Daisuke, only to start tearing the drawers out. Utensils flying everywhere as you tried to find something. Anything sharp.
To your horror there was no knives.
“He took all the knives….”
You looked over, same for Swansea, as it had been Daisuke who said it.
Daisuke said it.
“They are all in Curly’s old room. Since he’s the new captain now he has the ability to lock down that door. No one gets in, and no one gets out. Whatever he wants to hide is there. Noticed him hoarding things there. Was so confused…..Now I’m not anymore.”
Swansea looked ready to start swinging his ax at the nearest body of organs. He couldn’t believe this was real. That this was some shining bullshit.
This couldn’t go on.
“Swan, Daisuke, you guys gotta grab Anya and hide out in the med-bay. I’ll find something. I’ll find something-“ You rambled on, before Anya had poked her head in. Seeing Swansea holding Daisuke, and trying to keep that ray of sunshine from finally snapping.
“What’s going on?” She would whisper. Ever afraid if she spoke to loud that Jimmy would find her. Find her and do something else. Didn’t matter where she was. He was always breathing down her neck. One way or another.
“Little junior adventurer over there wants to finish the job.” Swansea would grit his teeth, as you still kept hunting down for something. Willing to tear apart cushions. You had to find SOMETHING. Maybe you could break a chair leg, maybe you could use some wires. Maybe maybe maybe-
That’s when Anya held your shoulder. Her tired eyes pulled you away from the incoming insanity. Brought you back to reality, and had you listen. Listen for just a moment.
“This is where the jugular vein is-“ She begun, as she pointed to her neck. Then started to name off more vital arteries, before pulling a scalpel from her pocket. Into your hands they went, as she kept listing off every vital vein possible. Weak points every body had.
Even a man like him.
“Last I saw him he was exploring the lower decks. Please…..Just make it quick.” As much as she hated him, she just could only bring herself to be only so cold. She could never be as cruel as Jimmy. To wish death onto someone. Never would she.
That’s what made her forever better than him.
“Come on, kid. You ain’t gonna wanna see this. Get over here, Anya. Come on. Let’s go have a sleepover with Captain Curly.” He would motion her over, and she would snuggle under his arm. The two safe in his arms, as he would walk them to the med-bay.
Was wise for him to keep the ax. That thing was what kept Jimmy from doing his own finishing of the job. You can’t over power him. No you can’t. There was also the fact Anya made sure to keep the gun hidden. You wouldn’t deny the idea it was in the med-bay somewhere. Just more protection if anything.
They’ll be safe. If you didn’t make it, at least you’ll make sure Jimmy is too weak to try anything more to hurt them. Weak enough for someone else to finish the job. What mattered now was them staying away until the job was done, and for you to figure out what to do next.
You needed that damn key.
You would stuff your hands in your pockets, grip tight on the scalpel, and started walking. Walking, thinking, listening. Eyes glued to anything that could offer an opportunity to be jumped. You had to be vigilant.
As you walked you would notice the door that was once Curly’s. How Jimmy didn’t deserve the luxury of what a Captain gets. Made you wonder what else he was also hoarding in that room. Maybe he was hoarding resources that should have been shared with the rest of you. There could be the slimmest chance that he was hiding away a transmitter even. Not having the guts to destroy it, and maybe even as far as to what for the rest of them to kill each other before he called for help.
That coward.
You had to get his keys. You needed those keys for those you love. They deserved to live. YOU deserved to live. No way in hell will Jimmy keep getting away with this. Never again. Never more.
Your nerves were getting tighter and tighter now. Even the sound of your own heart beat was painfully loud in your head. The sweat on your skin, the itch of your skin being too tight, the pounding of drums, the feeling of air pushing at your ribcage. So much as your eyes blinking was to loud.
Everything was to loud.
That’s when a bang of metal hitting metal alerted you. You spun around, and was just met with nothing. Just an empty, dark, hallway. No source of the noise. Maybe there was none to begin with. Just your nerves.
“Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You know you have to do this. There is no other option. You can do this. For Anya, for Daisuke, and for Swansea.”
A wipe to your brow and you returned to hunting him down.
Felt like an eternity. Just endless hallways in red lights of emergency. Hallways blocked off by foam. Was a scarlet bouncy castle of horror. Never did the ship feel so endless yet so tight. Maybe the ship itself was breathing to.
Never did you think you would be happy to see his ugly face.
He was down in the lower decks, seeming to be trying to access a door that Swansea had managed to block off. Swansea was stronger than he looked, and was a mechanic no less. Jerry rigged a makeshift lock for the door. If you recall correctly that was where the cryo-sleep pods were. He had been working to try and fix them up, but you doubt they survived. Guess it’s better to pretend you are doing something useful than do nothing at all.
“Hey Jim, whatcha doing?” You tried your best to act casual, as you watched him trying to get the lock off. A mixture of locking mechanics and bent metal that kept things in place. Jimmy just didn’t have the body weight to unbend them. Who ever said being fat wasn’t useful?
“Trying to get into this damn room. Be useful and help me, won’t you?” He grumbled, as he kept trying to pull the metal.
This was your chance.
This almost felt to perfect. He was distracted, hyper focused on something, and was crouching. You would have the upper hand. You can pull this off. You just had to fight your nerves.
“Yeah yeah yeah. I’m coming.” You would say, as you would walk closer to him. Flashes crossed your vision with each step. Was like blurs of a shadow puppet show. Visions of his talle outline pinning Anya to the ground, another of him pinning Daisuke to a wall. Even Swansea wasn’t free from the concept of being pinned to a surface and abused.
No one was safe with Jimmy still around.
You would soon be standing behind him, as he focused on the lock. He was right there. You just had to do it. Do what Anya showed you. His neck was exposed. It was right there. You just had to do it.
You pulled your weapon out, and took in a deep breath.
Just as you brought your arm to swing, Jimmy turned around.
Happened in a flash. You made contact with his skin, but it was his cheek instead. He would tumble over, and was quick to kick your legs out from under you. Had you slam your back to the ground. Knocked the wind out of you.
“I fucking KNEW IT-! YOU GOD DAMN BITCH-!” Was like he wasn’t even human anymore. Just as much of an animal on the outside as he was on the inside. You had to run. You had to get out of there. You fucked up your perfect chance. Your messed up and he’s going to remind you that you did.
You attempted to get up, but Jimmy was just that much faster than you. Your ankle was grabbed, and he was yanking you closer. You couldn’t stop yourself from screaming, as he would try and pry the medical tool from you.
“GET OFF OF ME YOU RAPIST PIECE OF SHIT-!” You nearly sobbed, as he stared down at you. Your wrists pinned above your head, as he just gawked at you. Was like he never even heard the word before.
“Rapist? You think I’m a fucking rapist? You little fucking bitch. I’m no such damn thing. What happened between us was nothing of the sort. It was just what happens when someone gets in my way. Reaching your goals isn’t a crime. Is it?” He asked you, as you kept struggling under him. Trying to get away.
“Fuck. YOU-!” And you slammed your face into his. Gave you a blinding headache instantly, but the shock of contact was enough to make him let go. You were soon crawling, and now running, away.
“IM GOING TO KILL YOU! IM GOING TO KILL ALL OF YOU LIKE IVE BEEN TRYING TO DO WITH CRASHING THIS STUPID SHIP!” His voice echoed like the demon from hell he was.
You never thought such fear like this could be in your body.
Your vision was a blurry mess from the head bang, but you just used the walls to offer you guidance. To try and find a place to breathe, and wait. To try again. You won’t give up. You refused to give up.
“COME BACK HERE-! YOU CANT RUN FOREVER! THERES NOWHERE ELSE FOR YOU TO GO-!” He would threaten you. His voice just seeming to be coming from everywhere. Was like he was inside of your own head. Like he was all of your insecurities crawling through your skull, and turning your brain into a mushy puddle of doubt and fear.
You still kept going.
You would find yourself back into the dinning hall, and took your chance in hiding in the kitchen area. Ducking down and hiding yourself by the elevated counters. If he kept running he shouldn’t notice you.
You would hold your knees, recollect yourself, and breathed.
The echoes of his running foot steps were like alarm bells in your ears. To hear them get closer, more distant, then closer again. Clearly having lost where you went, but still keeping up chance. How did he have so much energy? He must have been indeed hoarding resources. No way should someone surviving off mouthwash have this much stamina.
Your confused thoughts were cut short by the quickening pace of the foot steps. From banging on metal to proper flooring. He had entered the kitchen. He was breathing hard, and just boiling in anger.
“Where’s that fucking bitch? Where did that fucker go?” He would pant, as you would hear something sharp run over the counter marble. Must have grabbed a knife from his bedroom. Maybe that meant he left the door unlocked as well.
That could be your chance to get a proper weapon.
You just had to wait. Wait and pray he didn’t look over the counter.
You couldn’t tell where he was looking, but you needed to risk it. You would grab for one of the spoons off the ground, and threw it as far as you could. Into the hallway to the next part of the ship. You managed to get enough distance. The sound of metal hitting on the grates was loud. You swore you could feel the head thwip of Jimmy turning towards it.
“Found you-!” He shouted cockily, as he ran into that direction.
“Dumbass.” You muttered, as you soon ran the opposite way. Trying to find his room before he realized he was had.
You even went as far as to take off your shoes, so your feet made much less noise. Harder to be tracked and followed. Never did you think listening to Daisuke ramble about horror movie logic would come in handy. Gave some weird morbid hope that maybe Anya will be a final girl and make it out of here alive.
You would hear the foot steps echoing around you, as you tried to stalk quieter towards the dorm hallways. Was so hard to make out where they were going and coming from. The distant shouts of annoyance weren’t helping either. Was just making you more aware of your own mortality.
Luckily you managed to find the door. He snuck inside, and closed the door. Maybe he would think he locked it behind himself and not even think of checking in there. Maybe he was dumb enough to be fooled.
When in the room you couldn’t help but be disgusted by the sight. He really was hoarding food! The knives were also laid all out on his desk. Organized like he was planning to use them. There was also a trans communicator. Just as you thought there was. You thought it was suspicious there wasn’t a means to transfer information in case of an emergency. Even Pony Express had to have THAT. Suppose believing it was just consumed by foam was easier. Maybe it was and he dug it out himself.
No matter. You had hope.
You quickly grab the device, and turned it on. By god it WORKED!
“Hello? Hello?! This is the Tulpar for The Pony Express! We’ve been crash landed for months! Pony express has laid us off and hasn’t sent any rescue by proxy! Can you hear me?!” You couldn’t help but shout, as the transmitter would crackle.
“We read you loud and clear. How many are on the ship?” You were sobbing. No way. Someone was actually hearing you!
“Five! We have five people here! One in critical condition! Captain Curly! He’s alive! Alive but having suffered the most from the crash. We are running lower on medical supplies, we have very little food, we’ve been drinking fucking mouth wash to survive!” You weeped, as the person on the other end was taking in the information.
You said five for a reason.
“Keep on the line with us as we track your signal. Are you in any immediate danger?” The person asked.
“YES YOU ARE-!” Jimmy would shout behind you, before stabbing you right in your shoulder. You screamed bloody murder, as the person on the line gasped. Despite the pain, you were keeping your grip on the communicator. You weren’t letting go. No you fucking WONT.
“STUBBORN BITCH-!” He shouted at you, as you used your body to protect that communicator with all your body and life. You didn’t care if he was going to kill you now. You were getting everyone home. You were and you fufilled your mission.
“Just get it over with already you coward! How many people did you rape?! Huh?! Was Anya the first?! Like hell! She’s your most recent! Was Daisuke next?! Was I next?!” You called out, as you had nothing to lose anymore. You were going down with your own ship, unlike him.
“If you have to know, Anya wasn’t my last at least. She really thought leaving me alone with Curly was smart. Dumb whore-“ He would yank out the knife, making you bleed and scream. The hot searing pain was just beyond words. You were seeing stars, and not the kind you wanted.
“Was figuring how many I could get away with. Didn’t think she would actually tell anyone. Didn’t think much about her at all. Guess you live and learn. You live and l-“
Bang.
Silence.
Silence, the crackle of a communicator, and the ever breathing ship.
With a thud to the ground you were able to finally gain some vision to look over. Over to see Jimmy was dead on the ground, with a bullet hole through his forehead. Those terrifying eyes were now glsssy and empty. Looked almost relaxed. The only time he seemed to rest.
He was dead.
Your vision was blurring, and noise around you was muffled. All you could hear was muffled noise. Was like you were underwater. Your vision was starting to blur again as well. Couldn’t make out shapes.
You thought you saw someone with black hair above you. Seeming to grab something and speak into it. Was there something yellow to? Yellow and shaking you? There was also this almost pinkish blur as well. Came to you, and you swore you heard someone saying ‘you’re a hero’ before it all went to black.
One Month After The Call.
“Morning sunshine.”
You would groan, as you rubbed at your eyes. What happened? Was it all some bad dream? Where were you? This place didn’t look like the med-bay. Was so clean and white. There were windows too. Holy shit was that daylight? REAL daylight?
“Over here.”
You turned your head, and you saw him. Captain Curly. Looked so much better than when you last recalled him. His skin wasn’t as red, proper bandages were on him, and his lips even seemed to be healing back. Skin graphs? Was still laying in a bed, but far more cared for. Proper bedding, clean, IV bags, and…Wait…..Did he speak?!
“Been out a while. Don’t worry not much to catch you up on. You kinda went into a medical coma, from what Anya tried to explain to me. Everyone agreed to put you in the Cryo-Pod until help arrived. Was the only way to keep us both alive. All the resources had to go to me, sorry about that, so they had to pretty much freeze you in time. Big Swan had managed to make it function enough to work until the rescue team came for us. Welcome to the land of the living, hero.”
Even with his messed up complexion, and voice so hoarse you thought he himself was speaking through a communicator, you smiled. A hero huh? Wait. That meant….
“Did Anya pull the trigger?” You asked, with your own voice rasp from lack of use.
“Yeah. Yeah she did. We heard you screaming and she just….Couldn’t let you be his next victim. You gave her some bravery. I already knew she was brave, but damn. Who needs a Captain when you have her?” His laughter was painful, but you knew it was worth it.
“How’s everyone else?”
“Anya has been working with staff here. They took her in to be a doctor with them when they saw that the likes of me was still alive and functional. They really didn’t want to lose someone as smart as her. Daisuke has been glued here as much as us-“ He would weakly raise his arm, what’s left anyway, towards the sleeping solider. Curled up on a spare cot that was brought in for him. The staff having been understanding that he deserved to be around you both. His parents most likely were the ones to bring in all the video games for him to play with and show Curly as well. Even after so much he was still taking care of the ones he loved.
“Swansea?” You worried the most, since you wondered where he could be.
“Sueing the ever living fuck out of Pony Express for whatever damn dime they have left. Daisuke’s parents, and him, have been at the forefront on it all. He will come visit us soon. Get some rest, sunshine. You’ve earned it.” But you couldn’t help but worry. A worry that one person wasn’t accounted for.
“He’s dead. I do mean dead dead. By the time help arrived he had already well started decomposing. Swansea even went the extra mile and cut his head off from his body. Kinda overkill, but hey….Can’t take risks with monsters. Right?” You nodded at that, as you were able to rest.
No more Jimmy.
No more space ships.
Time to finally be a princess and get your beauty sleep.
“Sleep well, sunshine.”
“You to, Captain.”
A deep breath in of that sterilized air, fresh cut grass, and clean cotton.
You were free.
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing x reader#captain curly#mouthwashing curly#mouthwashing anya#mouthwashing daisuke#mouthwashing swansea#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing fandom#mouthwashing fanfic#curly x reader#Anya x reader#daisuke x reader#Swansea x reader#mouthwashing jimmy#tw rape#x reader#x reader horror#horror#horror game#indie horror#indie game#fanfic#happily ever after#because I said so#fuck you Jimmy#platonic x reader#platonic#horror writing#writing horror
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Do You Think About Her?
Summary: Jeff liked to tease Toby about his lack of experience with women. So when coming home from a mission with the two, you decide to tell Jeff off, spurring him into a jealous fit to see how far he can push you both.
Characters: Jeff the Killer & Ticci Toby x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Teasing, Toby is inexperienced, Jeff’s an asshole, fingering, cunnilingus, embarrassment, dub-con, blowjob, fucking in/on a truck, voyeurism, double penetration, vaginal, slight power struggle
Words: 5.0k
Jeff was known to make Toby the brunt of his jokes.
Whenever the twitching boy would stutter too much or laugh a little too hard, Jeff was always quick to jump on his ass and say something. Whether Toby took the remarks seriously or not, the pale killer never let up.
So whenever Toby accidentally let it slip that the farthest he had ever gotten with a girl was a blowjob, the whole mansion groaned with the frequency Jeff brought it up. Whenever he got a chance to embarrass the brunette you best believe he was going to, despite your belief that Toby could easily lay his ass out but just chose not to.
You had been sleeping around with Jeff for a while, the horny killer always willing to show you a good time whenever you asked for it. But that also meant dealing with his obnoxious mouth, and whatever bullshit insults he had conjured that day. So when you got wind of Jeff’s hounding on the boy, your heart ached. You and Toby were about the same age, and your backstories for how you ended up under Slender’s care were more or less the same. Bad home life turned murderous. There was a sense of familiarity in him, so you couldn’t just let your obnoxious fuck buddy run his mouth without you saying something.
“Listen, Jeff.” You groaned, curling your legs under you in the passenger seat of his old truck, heading back to the mansion after a particularly aggravating mission. Jeff eyed you, head propped on his fist as he leaned against the open window, the cool night air wafting in as he drove down the familiar back roads. Toby sat quietly in the back seat, staring out the window as his brown curls swayed in the wind. Slender had assigned the three of you together, apparently unaware of the high tensions between the two boys. It just made completing the mission that much more difficult. “You’ve gotta lay off Toby. The poor kids gonna cut your head off if you don’t quit talking about his dick.” You mumbled, staring at the dense trees flying by. Jeff groaned, sitting back against his seat as he turned a sharp curve, cringing at you. A slow rock song mumbled through the radio, the atmosphere nice besides the sour mood in the truck.
“Ain’t my fault the stutter’s practically a virgin.” He laughed dryly, looking into the rearview mirror and catching Toby’s nasty look at him, neck jerking. You were assigned some bullshit job to take out a couple of guys who vandalized the mansion, how they ever got that close and lived you had no idea. But with Toby bickering with Jeff’s snarky attitude, it was nearly impossible for them to focus. Two hours longer than it should have taken, you were finally headed back to the mansion, praying to get away from the two.
“Don’t be acting like you weren’t a virgin before I came along.” You huffed, turning to catch Toby snickering lowly, looking back out the window quickly before Jeff could see. Jeff grits his teeth, rolling his eyes as he leans forward, staring daggers at you. “Oh, come on now. You’re talking real big for someone that begs for me to fuck them once a week.” He snarled, reaching his arm across the console and gripping your thigh tightly, glancing between you and the road. Toby was still laughing quietly, amused by the bickering not focused on him for once. But this time Jeff heard him, whipping his wide eyes around quickly to laugh at the boy. “No fucking way the virgin’s laughing!” He hollered, throwing his head back as he laughed annoyingly, just loud enough to prove a point. You slapped his arm, pushing his hand off your thigh as you hissed.
“Jeff.”
He rolled his eyes, glancing between you and the rearview mirror, snarling at Toby. The brunette just stared awkwardly between you two, back pressed flush against the seat as you turned to look back at him, nodding your apology. Toby smiled at you, his cheek twitching at the movement. But as you turned back forward, Jeff’s pale face sat shocked and angry as he glanced between the two of you. You glared at him, but that felt all too much as he faced forward quickly, shoving the wheel to the left and throwing the truck off the road, pulling next to the thick treeline and slamming on the brakes. You yelped, bracing your hands on the dash as he threw the truck in park and shut the engine off, the low rock song still beating through the old speakers. Toby cursed, groaning as he pushed himself off of Jeff’s seat and shook his head.
Before you could berate the pale killer, he was already throwing open his door, jumping out and quickly shoving the back door open as well. You watched as Toby struggled frantically against him, punching his shoulders as Jeff hauled him from the truck and onto the grass below. You yelled, throwing open your door and dodging to the opposite side of the truck. Jeff was already on top of the boy, loud grunts and curses ringing as they pushed against each other, fists flying and grappling the other. Toby was holding him off, but with Jeff holding his knee on his stomach, there was little Toby could do to fight him off. They were throwing their palms into each other’s faces, pushing their necks and nearly hurting themselves. So you yelled, instincts thrown as you gripped Jeff by his messy hair, tugging him back by the head until he was hissing.
As you pulled him off of the smaller boy, you beat his chest with your fist, furious. “What the fuck are you doing?!” You snarled, pushing his chest back against the side of the truck with a loud thud. Thankfully this road was practically abandoned, nobody having any reason to travel back this far unless it was a hunting season, so no one just saw the throwdown that you just broke up. Toby panted behind you, your body standing between the two so Jeff had no choice but to focus on your angry face. “Fu- fuckin’ psycho…” Toby grits, spitting onto the ground as he sits up on his elbows. You still stared at Jeff, your questioning expression enough to make him groan.
When Toby began to cough, you turned, reaching an arm out to help him stand. You gave him a once over, making sure Jeff hadn’t done any serious damage as you hauled him up. He was slightly taller than you, his goofy smile thankful as he pulled his mask down under his chin, wiping the dirt from his cheek. You sighed, turning back to Jeff and glaring, but getting caught off guard by his disgusted expression. Jeff towered over the both of you, his nasty scowl making you worried.
“If I didn’t know better I’d think you two were fuckin’.” Jeff growled, pushing off the truck and shouldering the two of you apart, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets and staring into the woods. Toby and you awkwardly glanced at each other, the brunette stepping out of the way as you shuffled to Jeff’s side. “Jeff. You’re being unreasonable.” You grit, shoving his shoulder as he glanced at you, groaning. But he turned back to Toby, glaring daggers at the boy until he glanced back at you, a small smirk appearing on his sullen face. The pale killer shuffled to Toby’s side, throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders, making him flinch away. Jeff held his head tight against his side, making the boy stare through his messy hair at you as you nervously watched. “Tell me, twitch. You ever thought about my girl before? While you’re jerkin’ it, maybe?”
There was a nasty grin on Jeff’s face as you blushed, crossing your arms as the brunette stared at the ground. Jeff didn't appreciate the silence so he hauled Toby’s head up, gripping him by the back of the hair and making his eyes face you. “Jeff-”
“Ah, ah. I’m asking him.” Jeff cut you off, nudging Toby by his side until his shoulders twitched under the pressure. “Whaddya say, Toby?” You glanced nervously between the two, both of their eyes on you as you waited for either an answer or for Jeff to shove off. Music still thumped from the truck, the cool night air blowing your hair gently until there were goosebumps on your skin. Toby’s eyes frantically glanced between you and the ground, his freckled cheeks a dark tint as he searched for an answer. You had no idea what had gotten into Jeff, but you were growing tired and more embarrassed by the second. Toby closed his eyes, shaking his head as Jeff scoffed, shoving him back to the ground
“I guess we’ll just find out then, huh?” Jeff smiled wildly, stepping over Toby to move to you, your body subconsciously taking a step back before pale hands wrapped around your waist, pushing you in front of him. Jeff stood flush behind you, hands on your hips as he looked down at Toby, the brunette perched against the rear tire of the truck. You pushed against Jeff's hands, protesting lightly as he hugged around your waist, nudging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing lightly, keeping his eyes on Toby the whole time. You groaned, trying to squirm away from his grasp as he nibbled on your neck, kissing small pecks up your jaw and to your ear. Your cheeks grew hot, anxiously glancing between Jeff and Toby, the brunette’s eyes having a hard time looking away from you as Jeff ravaged the side of your face.
You stifled a groan when Jeff’s cool hands slid under your shirt, pressing light touches against your skin. You gasped, tugging your shirt down as his arms pushed the fabric up, panicking against him. “Jeff- Stop-” You huffed, tugging at his arms, but the pale killer only laughed, nibbling behind your ear as he watched Toby carefully become flustered. You glanced at the brunette, his cheeks dark and knees pressed close to his chest, unable to do anything but watch you fidget under pale arms. Jeff was making a spectacle out of you, teasing the poor boy at your expense. But there was little you could do as he tugged your shirt up, despite your protests.
When he got your shirt over your head, you could literally see the panic in Toby’s eyes. You screwed your eyes shut, whining as Jeff reached behind to unclip your bra and tug it off your shoulders. The brunette was quick to look down, finding your feet inches away from him far more interesting. Jeff didn’t appreciate that, taking your tits in his hands and kneading roughly. “Oh, don’t get shy now, twitch. You gotta own up to how much of a pervert you are.” The killer smiled, pinching your nipples until he heard you hiss, your cheeks hot and breath heavy.
“The o- only pervert here is yo- you, Jeff…” Toby grunted, eyes glancing up quickly to your tits but back down nervously as he caught the fingers on them. You desperately tugged on Jeff’s hoodie sleeves, teeth gritted as he finally let go and ran his hands down your waist. His cool hands were quick to unbutton your jeans, pushing his hand past your waistline and down into your panties. You yelped, grabbing at his arm and begging the perverted hand out, Jeff only groaning. “Oh, stop acting like you don’t fuckin’ love this, babe.” He hissed in your ear, gripping your wrists and tugging them behind your back, his left hand securing them between his body as his right reentering your panties. You whined, hips bucking frantically as his thick fingers slid between your folds, pushing your wetness onto the digits. Jeff chuckled lowly, pressing his right knee between your legs and forcing your thighs open as his fingers prodded against your clit.
Toby couldn’t look away now, his flushed cheeks dark as his eyes widened. He was twitching frantically, his neck jerking against the mental override he was experiencing. You stared at him through heavy eyes, embarrassment tugging at your stomach as you begged the boy to look away. Jeff was always one for proving a point no matter the expense, so as he pushed his fingers into your entrance, stretching you wide, he was quick to snap at the brunette.
“Well look at that, twitch. You ever fingered a girl before? Ever made her squirm this much?” Jeff teased, Toby’s head shaking slowly as his lips fell open, his eyes refusing to look anywhere else. Your arms protested against Jeff, but his strong grip held both of them easily, keeping your chest out and ass pressed back against him. His bulge was already evidently, his psychotic personality getting him excited at your struggle. His thick fingers curled inside of you, pushing little whines and hisses from your lips until you were hunched over, gasping as pleasure racked your cunt. Jeff was chuckling against your neck, nibbling on the skin and leaving little red marks wherever his teeth grazed. It made you whine, your eyes growing heavy and your face hot as you were forced to face Toby, hunched over so your face was right above his. A cool palm nudged against your clit, making your hips grind down and relish in the friction. Toby was so lost in the scene, his knees rubbing together nervously as he glanced quickly between your flushed face and Jeff’s hands shoved into your pants. His bulge was evident against his jeans, his hands gripping the grass below him as he nudged his thighs together, desperately trying to grasp at some sort of friction.
Jeff ground his hips into your clothed ass, his bulge rubbing against you as he huffed against your neck. “Come on, tell the boy how good you feel.” He grunted, slotting his thick fingers in and out of your cunt quickly, your hips bucking against his palm. He was pulling gasps from you, every curl of his fingers making you mewl your pleasure. Your embarrassment had faded, excitement coursing through you as Toby began to palm himself through his jeans, his hitched groans making you whine as you locked eyes. “Ah… Jeff…” You groaned through gritted teeth when his thick fingers pressed deep against your walls, gushing your arousal around his cool fingers. The killer chuckled, letting your wrists go to snap onto your hip, pulling your hips back so he could grind into your ass easier. You felt your stomach knotting, your hips stuttering against his fingers as you began to whine, biting your cheek. “Toby…” Toby gasped under you, eyes wide as he ground into his hand, mesmerized by you. Eyes locked, you could feel yourself close to that familiar edge, chasing Jeff’s fingers as they curled deep.
But as if he could sense it, Jeff tugged his fingers out of your warm walls, sliding them out of your pants and chucking wickedly as you whined. You were shocked, hips still bucking as he held your hips, refusing to let you move. You were teetering on that lovely edge, so close to getting off but so quickly stripped of that feeling that you could’ve cried.
Jef tugged your pants down, pulling your damp panties with them until you kicked them off your ankles. You were completely exposed to the cool air, goosebumps riddling your skin as Jeff bent down, hooking his hands under your knees and tugging you up quickly. Your back was pressed flush against his chest, laying all your weight as your held your knees apart, your throbbing cunt face first with Toby’s face. You whined loudly, hands reaching back to grip Jeff’s messy hair as your cheeks grew dark, eyes pleading as you stared at the boy under you. “Go on. Make her cum.” Jeff commanded, holding you up easily as he watched Toby, beckoning the nervous boy.
The brunette sat up unsurely, climbing onto his knees as he watched your dark face. He stripped his jacket, letting it fall to the ground behind him as he pressed closer, heavy breath brushing against your sensitive folds. You whined, hips trying to buck to his face but Jeff’s hands holding you still, tsking. “Go on, twitch.” Toby nodded nervously, sliding his fingers up to press your folds apart, eyes flinching to your face worriedly when you gasped. His freckled face looked so cute under you, his goggles pushing his bangs off his forehead and letting you see the flushed skin as he pushed closer. His tongue pressed first, licking a thick stripe between your folds before his soft lips pressed in, sucking on your sensitive clit. Jeff growled, pushing your hips closer to the brunette as you moaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, God-” You hummed, eyes slamming shut as Toby flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud.
Your back arched against Jeff, fingers gripping his hair tight as you rutted against the warm tongue lapping at your arousal. Toby spread your lips with his fingers, flattening his tongue against your entrance as humming against you. He pushed further, slipping his tongue into your warmth and making you groan, your hand instantly shooting down to rub your clit and push you close. Toby’s eyes stayed hooded, watching eagerly as your fingers brushed against his nose, his tongue shoved into your cunt. “Le- Let me…” He grunted, sliding his hand up to shove yours away and take its place, slowly circling your clit with the pads of his fingers. You could barely breathe through all the gasps and whines that spilt from your lips, Jeff’s fingernails gripping your leg as he watched the scene unfold. He was smiling and huffing his arousal, teeth nibbling against your ear as he pushed your hips against Toby’s tongue, pulling your knees back further to give the brunette more access. “Does his tongue feel good, babe? You gonna cum on his face?” Jeff cooed, rutting his hips up against your bare ass as Toby lapped at your cunt, eyes fluttering shut as he tried to push deeper.
Nodding frantically, you could already feel yourself clamping down, Jeff’s lewd words making your core twitch as fingers rubbed against your clit. “Toby-” You whined, bucking your hips up as you felt your orgasm crash into you. Toby was quick to hold your hips, burying his face deeper into your cunt as he soaked up your arousal on his tongue, groaning at the taste. Jeff growled, teeth digging into your shoulder as Toby’s fingers rubbed your orgasm out, your thighs trying to twitch shut. When you finally breathed deep, Toby slipped his tongue out, hooded eyes gazing at your hot face, your cheeks flushed and sweaty. He smiled goofily, fingers spreading your soaked lips as he admired your still throbbing cunt, palming himself. Jeff slowly let your legs down, hooking his arm around your waist when your knees buckled from your sensitivity.
“Damn, Toby…” He groaned, unzipping his jeans and freeing his heavy cock, the tip already smeared with pre. The pale killer gripped you to his side, staring down at the brunette still on his knees as he began to fist his length lazily. Toby sat back on his calves, eyes flicking nervously as he watched Jeff tug you towards the truck, pressing his back against the door and holding you in front of him. Toby stood awkwardly, fidgeting his hands as he watched Jeff push you back, gripping his hands around your head and bringing your mouth to his cock. You didn’t even think, mouth opening almost on instinct as you bent at the waist, bracing your hands against his thighs and taking the twitching length in your mouth like you had done it a thousand times before. Jeff sighed, gripping your hair into a ponytail and bobbing you slowly as he began to talk.
“You wanna fuck her?” He grinned, grunting as you moaned your approval around his girth. Toby gasped quietly, eyes focused on watching you take Jeff so easily as his cock throbbed against his jeans. Jeff spread his legs wider, pressing his shoulders back against the glass of the door and cupping your cheek, forcing you to bury your face onto his cock, gagging against him. The pale killer groaned, eyeing Toby expectantly as the brunette nodded, his nervousness fading as he watched you submit to Jeff so easily. He wanted that. He wanted you to want him that way.
Toby had always thought you were cute, his aggravation with Jeff spreading when the killer claimed you for his use. Toby thought the guy was ungrateful for such a pretty girl as you, wishing it was him who was dragging you upstairs to his room after a bad day. The bad thing about all living in the same hallway was the lack of noise privacy, so every time Toby heard your little whines echoing against his wall, there was little he could do against his straining arousal.
But now, with your hips in the air and your cunt so beautifully waiting, Toby would show you. Despite his lack of experience, the brunette had watched enough porn to know what he wanted, to know exactly how he needed to treat you. The boy nodded, unzipping his jeans and sliding behind you, awkwardly gripping your hips. Your back muscles twitched and pulsed as you strained to bob at the pace Jeff was wanting you to go, the killer’s dark eyes grinning as he watched Toby nervously slip out his cock. The tip was red and leaking, twitching desperately as the brunette bent his knees, angling his head to press between your soft folds and find your entrance. You gasped, immediately pressing back against him but Jeff’s hands held your head, giving you little room to move as you slobbered on his length.
The killer was being possessive, inspecting the brunette's every move as he pushed into you slowly, watching your expressions for any sign that you weren’t enjoying it. You moaned around his cock, tongue flattening against the underside and flicking against the gaudy veins that ran up it. Jeff huffed, relishing in the way your slobber pooled at the sides of your mouth as you screwed your eyes shut, focusing on not choking on his girth. But he wanted you to. He wanted to put on a good show for the kid.
Placing his hands on either side of your head, he thrust quickly into the heat of your mouth, head knocking against the back of your throat and making you gag. He smiled, pulling back to the head before slamming back in, trying his best to pull any noises he could from your constricted throat.
Toby watched carefully, mouth hanging lazily as he bottomed out inside of you. You were so warm, the heat swallowing him impossibly tight as he struggled not to move. His cock wasn’t as long as Jeff’s, but fuck did it still stretch you so good. You ground your hips back, moaning at the way the boy’s nails dug into your hips desperately. You had already ruined porn for him, your cunt gripping him the way his fist never could. He was already hooked. “God… O- Oh my god…” Toby gasped, shallowly thrusting into your cunt and drooling at the way your entrance tugged against him every time he pulled out. You were so pretty, your flushed skin warm under his scarred fingers, he couldn’t help but knead your ass apart as he ground into you.
In your opinion, the two boys were so impossibly different. Jeff was an ego trip, dick thinking before his brain did and making him a cocky little bitch who loved to show off. But Toby, on the other hand, was an awkward kid whose brain ran faster than the rest of him. It made him sensitive, but so dangerously impulsive at the same time. But right now, with their cocks buried on either side of you, their differences were even more prominent. Jeff was rough and loud, even on his best days caring only if you ended up babbling his name out of overstimulation. But Toby was nervous, inexperienced and trying his best to fulfill those urges he so desperately had. It was dizzying how differently they treated you.
You ground back against Toby, arching your back against his small thrusts and begging him to dare faster. He panted behind you, neck twitching and face contorting with every stretch he could feel inside of you. “Faster, twitch,” Jeff grunted, angling his cock in your mouth so he could fuck your throat, smiling at the way you gurgled on your spit. Toby hesitated for a minute, looking at the killer unsurely.
“She wants you to go, ah, faster.” He hissed, snapping his hips as you gripped his jeans, begging for air. After so much time sleeping around, Jeff could read your body language like a book. It was beyond annoying, especially when he could tell you were aroused despite your bickering that you weren’t. But in this case, you thanked him by pressing your head down further, pushing your nose into his pubes.
Toby nodded frantically, spreading his feet wider so he could angle himself up, slowly snapping his hips faster. He gripped your hips, his fingerless gloves nipping against your skin until you were whining loudly, gut-clenching in pleasure as his cock nudged against your g-spot. You arched your back, letting the brunette groan and hiss his pleasure behind you as you thrust your hips back, matching his pace. It wasn’t long before he was ramming into you, skin snapping loudly as he gave in and abandoned his nervousness. Jeff was eager too, nearly matching the brunette’s pace as he forced his cock down your throat, only pulling back every so often so you could suck on the head and catch your breath. “So- So warm…”
Jeff grits his teeth, challenging the twitching boy opposite of him as he stares daggers through his hooded eyes. “You gonna cum, twitch? Gonna spill in her?” Jeff was teasing him, the killer’s own orgasm quick on his heels as he slipped out of your mouth, slapping the wet length against your cheek. You were gasping, whines mixing as Toby snapped his hips, hissing. “I- I, ah, can’t-” He whined, your walls clamping against his aching cock, milking him quickly. Jeff grinned, popping his cock back in your mouth and letting you suck on the head while he talked. “Sure you can. Had her on the pill for a while now. Get to fill her cunt full whenever I want.”
It was true. Jeff was so insanely horny that he had opted for stealing birth control pills from the pharmacy off the highway nearby just so he didn’t have to pull out. But you couldn’t complain, cumming around a cock was heavenly.
Toby stared wide-eyed, a new fire igniting in him as he pressed his hands around your waist and began to slam his hips brutally. You yelped, eyes rolling as the boy thrust deeply into you, his teeth gritted and grunting. Jeff laughed wickedly, tugging your chin down with his thumb as he pushed his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, grunting as he matched Toby’s pace in your throat. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight when Toby gripped your hips and hauled you up, your feet leaving the ground. He hunched over you, breathing raggedly as he fucked up into your cunt, squelching and slapping loud in your ears.
It was all too much, so many sensations and so full your body couldn’t resist itself anymore. You buried your around Jeff’s cock as you came, eyes rolling hard as your cunt clamped down against the unfamiliar girth. Your legs were spasming, feet kicking in the air as Toby moaned, digging his nails deep.
They both buried in you at the same time, their ragged moans and loud breathing making your gut twist as you felt warm seed spilling into you. You tried to swallow quickly, choking on the salty liquid as Jeff hunched over you, gripping your head tight in his pale hands. Toby’s cock twitched inside of you, knees shaking as he let himself spill into your warmth. Jeff pulled out first, letting his leaking head rest against your swollen lips as tears spilt down your cheeks, your mind so hazy you couldn’t breathe straight. He chuckled, hooking his hands under your armpits and tugging you up against his chest, Toby slipping out of you with a groan. You panted against Jeff’s shoulder, eyes heavy and cunt throbbing as he picked you up and snapped at Toby to grab your clothes.
So when Toby climbed into the passenger seat and Jeff sat you sideways on his lap, tugging you close to his chest, you breathed deep. Toby’s bangs were stuck against his forehead from the sweat, his red freckled cheeks watching you so closely as he ran his hand between your thighs, your head falling onto his shoulder as he fingered his cum inside of you. Jeff grinned as he started the truck, hauling it back onto the road and speeding towards the mansion, occasionally reaching over to press his thick fingers in with Toby’s and make you cry. The brunette pressed his chin against your head, rubbing your clit as Jeff’s fingers pressed Toby’s cum deep into your cunt, tugging yet another orgasm out of you as the same slow rock music pounded against the speakers.
You could barely think as they dressed you, pulled up to the mansion and hauled you inside, Toby carrying you to your room and setting you between them as they cleaned you up. Jeff still bickered with Toby, rolling your eyes as you slipped into sleep below them.
But as the weeks passed and Toby began showing up at your door with that pleading look in his eyes as frequently as Jeff, there was little you could do to resist. Even when the two showed up together, scheming some new position they wanted to try and arguing the whole time, your heart fluttered.
So when their sharp words turned to breathy groans, you realized that maybe the only way they could stand each other was if you were distracting them, giving them something better to focus on.
This is a birthday present for @carmoronic! Live it up!!!!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
#creepypasta#smut#jeff the killer x reader#ticci toby#jeffrey woods#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta smut#eyeless jack#jeff the killer x eyeless jack#jeff the killer x ticci toby#ticci toby smut#ticcijeff#jeff the killer x you#jeff the killer smut#jeff the killer creepypasta#jeff the killer x y/n#jeff the killer#tobias erin rogers#tobias rogers#creepypasta x reader#eyeless jack x y/n#eyeless jack x you#eyeless jack smut#eyeless jack x reader#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby x you#ticci toby x y/n#jeffrey woods x reader#slenderverse#marble hornets
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Your Roommate Sukuna
“That Time He Sabotaged My Date”
Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader
Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!
Contains: yandere(ish)!Sukuna, fluff but he’s kinda very toxic, stalking, fem implied reader (wearing a dress and heels), brief mention of a bomb (there aren’t any bombs present), narration is from Sukuna’s POV
Word Count: 1.78k
Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist
Whoever decided this dingy shithole is a decent place to take you on a date should be fucking shot.
Maybe it was wrong of Sukuna to eavesdrop on your private conversation this morning, but in his defense you were talking on the phone loud as hell in the middle of the living room. Should’ve been quieter when you were telling your friend about the date you had planned for tonight.
And maybe it’s weird that Sukuna secretly followed you here to keep an eye on you, but it’s not like he has nefarious intentions. He’s heard of this place and one, it’s fucking gross, and two, it’s got one hell of a reputation to say the least. Definitely the kind of place for someone to get murdered, he’s just watching out for your safety!
Oh christs sake, who is he fooling? No, he followed you here because he’ll be damned if you get a boyfriend.
He feels like a creep, sitting at the bar behind your table in a black hoodie and an old baseball cap, eyes fixed on the back of your head. The guy sitting across from you is so bland, yet for some reason you’re still giggling and twirling your hair around your finger as if you don’t know that you can do so much better.
There was no need for you to doll yourself up for this fuckin’ loser; you’ve got on a pretty red dress and stiletto heels, probably anticipating him to take you somewhere nice, decent, at least. But he brought you to some run down shithole restaurant that hasn’t been renovated since the 70’s and is definitely bearing several health code violations. It’s honestly embarrassing, Sukuna would take you somewhere so much nicer than this, he knows what you deserve.
He’s been sitting at the bar sipping on his drink for the last half hour, watching the way you prop your elbow onto the table, cross your legs in your seat, tap your heel against the leg of your chair, listening to you laugh and chat about your job. Meanwhile, mister nobody in front of you is chewing with his mouth open like some kind of ape, not realizing how much of a privilege he has by being able to treat you to dinner. Un-fucking-believable.
Finally the moment he’s been waiting for happens. Bland And Boring stands up from his seat and leaves you at the table to go use the restroom, so now it’s time for Sukuna to get this fool away from you. His eyes follow the man as he walks past the bar, not even trying to be discreet. He gives Sukuna a quick glance and nods his head politely, making his way towards the bathrooms near the front of the restaurant.
There’s no time to waste.
Sukuna stands from his seat at the bar, trailing behind your date and following him into the bathroom. As the door clicks shut behind him he realizes that it’s just the two of them. Perfect, no interruptions.
He walks up behind the man, watching him through the large mirror above the sinks. Now that he’s up close he can really see how pathetic this guy is, nervously looking up towards Sukuna as he absolutely towers above him, his stature menacing and the look in his eyes bordering on deadly.
“D-do you need some-”
“You should leave.” Your date jumps at the sound of Sukuna’s voice; dark, deep, and serious.
“Um… why?” His eyes flicker around the room, definitely praying to whatever god he believes in to come save him.
Sukuna is surprised he isn’t immediately obeying. Has he grown soft? Surely not, this guy just needs a little extra push.
So Sukuna says the first thing that comes into mind.
“I have a bomb.”
Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but god damn does it do the trick. The guy looks like he’s about to fucking piss himself, eyes widening in terror as he quickly nods his head and runs out of the restaurant.
Sukuna keeps a keen eye on him through the windows, watching him nearly leap into his car and hearing the tires screech as he speeds out of the parking lot. It seems you also had an eye on your date, your jaw nearly dropping to the floor as you assumed that he just ditched you with the bill.
Now’s his time to shine.
He stuffs his hat into the front pocket of his hoodie and strides up behind you to your table, bending down to be eye level with you in the booth and putting on his best mildly surprised and kind of amused expression, “Well look at that.”
“Ugh, god.” You bury your face into your hands, “And here I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.”
He can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. It is his fault you’re in this situation, but I mean come on, that guy was no good for you anyway. “You sample the whole fuckin’ menu or something?”
You groan and roll your eyes, perfect, you took the bait, “I just got dine and dashed, asshole.”
Sukuna lets out a laugh as he flops down into the seat across from you, god if only you knew. A man would have to be a real idiot to stand you up, but he has to try and keep his act together, “Yeah? Guys are fuckin’ assholes, surprise.”
The pout on your face is too sweet, makes it hard for him to really feel bad, “I was really liking him too.”
Oh, he definitely doesn’t feel bad now. He pulls his card out of his wallet as the waitress approaches the table, handing it off to her nonchalantly as he continues the conversation, “Don’t know why you bother going on dates with these guys.”
You try to interject the waitress but she walks away before you can stop her, a defeated frown pulling down your lips, “What are you doing here anyway?”
He plops his elbow onto the table, shrugging his shoulders casually, “What? Am I not allowed to go to my favorite shitty restaurant?”
You perk up slightly, “Right? I saw a roach on the way in, I can’t believe he recommended this place.”
The waitress comes back and hands Sukuna his card, he quickly scribbles his signature on the receipt and stands from his seat at the booth, “Let’s get you out of here before you get ringworm or some shit, nasty fuckin’ place.”
Finally a smile creeps onto your face, lighting up the dreary atmosphere. You adjust your dress as you stand up and he can’t help but smirk at how good you look all dolled up, dark red dress hugging your figure as if you wore it for him. He leads you out of the restaurant, making sure to hold the door open for you since he noticed that your loser date let it slam in your face on your way in.
Droplets of rain were starting to sprinkle down, which is pretty unlucky considering it’s a ten minute walk back to the apartment. But that’s not a problem for Sukuna, if anything it’s a perfect opportunity. He catches the frown curling down your pouty lips as you fix your fingers through your nicely styled hair, probably trying to keep it from getting messed up, and without missing a beat he pulls his hoodie off, sliding it over your head and down your arms.
“I’m sure you spent hours dolling yourself up, would hate to ruin it.” His voice is smooth as butter, leaning down to eye level with you as he adjusts the hood to make sure your hair is covered.
A blush creeps onto your face, mumbling a quiet “Thank you” as you pull your arms through the sleeves. It honestly looks like you’re drowning in his massive hoodie, the sleeves too long for your arms that your fingers can’t even peek out and the hem at the bottom falling at your upper thighs.
Sukuna thought you looked good in that red dress, but god damn you look heavenly wearing his clothes. Why didn’t he do this sooner?
You both start to walk down the sidewalk to the apartment, the evening is quiet save for the muffled sounds of music and chatter coming from the bars and restaurants that you pass by. You’re walking right up against his side, your arm occasionally brushing against his and he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting closer on purpose.
Sukuna breaks the peaceful silence, “So was the food good at least?”
You look up towards him quizzically, squinting your eyes in a way that’s too fucking cute for him to handle, “Shouldn’t you be the expert?”
“Why t’fuck would I know? Never been there.”
“I thought that was your favorite shitty restaurant?”
Oops.
He got way too distracted looking into your pretty eyes. Lucky for him, he didn’t need to come up with an excuse to cover him because a loud snap rings through the air as you stumble forward. His arm quickly wraps around your waist to steady you before you can fall, holding you flush against him.
You look down at your feet and let out a loud groan of frustration, “Fucks sake, really?” You lift your foot up to inspect your shoe, your stiletto heel barely dangling by a thread as it snapped off from the sole.
Sukuna didn’t mean to laugh, but there was no containing it. You look up at him with an adorable angry face, cheeks burning red as you curse him out and it only makes him smile more. You’re just too damn cute when you’re pissed off.
“It’s not funny! These were expensive!”
“Yeah yeah, c’mere.” His arm stays wrapped around your waist as he leans down and hooks his other arm behind your knees, lifting you off the ground with ease as you squeal in surprise and wrap your arms around his neck to cling onto him.
Now he could bet that other guy wouldn’t do this for you, not just was he scrawny as all hell but he wouldn’t be nearly enough of a gentleman. Your arms tighten around the back of Sukuna’s neck as he starts walking to the apartment again, your cheek nuzzled against his shoulder as you slowly relax into his hold. He’s actually liking this a lot, silently considering purposely taking a wrong turn on the way home so he can hold you longer.
Hopefully after this you’ll stop going on stupid dates with worthless men, you’ve already got everything you could ever want right at home after all. Soon enough you’ll realize that you don’t need anyone but him.
A/N: This was SO FUN to write!! I love him he’s such an asshole askakksksk, I rlly liked the idea of doing a light hearted yandere part (even tho NOBODY asked for this skaksksk) Dividers by @adornedwithlight
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!
#once again I am writing Sukuna pov and I am NOT sorry about it#I think every time I write his POV I make him crazier askskams#my writing#nav ryomen sukuna#roommate Sukuna au#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#Sukuna#ryomen sukuna#Sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#jjk modern au
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shrimply in love | miya atsumu
synopsis. atsumu wholeheartedly prayed that you forgot how you first met, and for a while he believed that you did. that is until he finds the literal token from that day.
pairing. atsumu miya x gn!reader | wc. 2.1k | genres. timeskip!atsumu, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, atsumu is soooo down bad | warnings. (minor?) manga spoilers
notes. outing myself as a hq fan and atsumu lover LOOK AWAY. this was inspired by a tiktok i saw LMFAO 😭. i was up until dawn, on my phone, in the drafts writing this that’s how bad it was. there's something additional to this so stay tuned, and i hope you enjoy.
“tsumu!” you call out from the couch while he’s in the bathroom connected to your shared room. “can you get my wallet? it’s on the bed.”
“sure thing, baby!” he answers back.
“thanks love!” you reply, the petname making him grin in the mirror. it gets him every single time.
after drying off his hands with a towel, atsumu doubles back to the bedroom, your wallet immediately catching his eye. he picks it up, and as he does, something slips out from the crevices.
atsumu picks it up and inspects it. it’s a folded slip of paper. curious, he unfolds it to examine its contents. reading it puts him in shock, and now he’s mildly annoyed with you.
he rushes out of the room, stomping over to you like a little kid. you raise an eyebrow in amusement when he stops in front of the couch.
“baby, what the hell?!” he whines, holding the paper out in front of you for you to read. confused, you lean closer, letting your eyes scan it before laughing out loud. it’s a guest check from the day you first met.
“what?! it’s cute!” you defend with a smile.
“it’s horrifying. do you even know how embarrassing this was for me?” atsumu pouts.
“oh believe me i know.” you giggle.
three years ago.
after a hard won victory, the msby jackals were craving a celebratory meal. meian had suggested a new italian restaurant that had opened by the arena. there was a unanimous agreement among the team, except for sakusa. however, bokuto had managed to convince him to come along with enough pestering.
so there they were, a group of guys well over six foot (with the exception of hinata and inunaki), sharing what’s probably the largest table at the restaurant. it drew tons of attention, and there were even some fans who came up to them for pictures and autographs.
then you came by, ready to take orders, and atsumu knew in that moment he was an absolute goner for you. your beauty was unlike anything he’s ever seen before. you were prettier than those models on the ads he walked by, prettier than the flowers in his mother’s gardens, prettier than sunsets on a beach. and god, your smile. his head went all fuzzy at the sight of it. it melted his insides.
you chuckled at whatever bokuto animatedly said before moving onto atsumu. you looked at him expectantly, eyes shining with so much light that it jumbled the blonde’s brain. shit. what did he want to order?
atsumu’s eyes quickly racked through the menu, and his mouth fired off an order before his brain could process what he was reading. “uh, could i get the shrimps camping?”
a silence befell amongst the table before a collective cackle filled the restaurant. realizing what slipped out of his mouth, atsumu’s face turned red. his cheeks were embarrassingly hot.
mortified. he was absolutely fucking mortified. even that asshole omi-kun found it funny. it didn’t help that you were suppressing a smile at him too. he didn’t even bother with the damage control. there was no point. he’d only embarrass himself further.
with a giggle, you made a note of it on the guest check you were writing up because at least you knew what he was referring to. atsumu buried his face in his hands. see in his head, the setter had come up with a plan to ask for your number, but now he was never even going to walk down this street ever again. his chances? consider them blown.
“alright, alright,” you said after the laughter had died down. you fire off orders to confirm everything, and then you get to atsumu. “and… one shrimps camping.”
“you’re killing me.” atsumu groaned, feeling a new wave of embarrassment now that you were teasing him.
“it’s my job.” you shrugged before walking off with a wink. the blonde felt his heart skip a beat.
“don’t sweat it, atsumu-san!” shoyo clapped his back reassuringly. at least he could leave it to the ginger to always have his back.
it took a minute, but the team had finally moved on from atsumu’s slip up. unfortunately, it was all the setter could think about. god, what if you teased him once you came back with the plates?
luckily for him, it didn’t happen. you just tossed him a knowing grin when you presented him his food. he stared down at those shrimp dancing in the sauce, knowing he’s never ordering fuckass shrimp scampi ever again, and dug in. (it’s the most delicious thing to have graced his tastebuds.)
atsumu, contrary to previous thoughts, did end up coming back to the italian restaurant in the hopes that he could see you. he realized that he wasn’t going to allow one fuck up ruin the chances of having you. atsumu miya is many things. annoying, rude, loud, but a quitter? that’s not one of them.
it was a weekly occurrence, and atsumu would try something different from the menu each time.
“no shrimp scampi?” you would smirk.
“no…” atsumu would sigh, feeling the jab in his bones before handing you his menu. “no shrimp scampi.”
conversations became more casual. he learned more about you like how you were in your final year of university and that your favorite men’s volleyball team was ejp raijin. (he was definitely going to change that.) each week the blonde setter visited you during week made him fall for you even more. all of these little things accumulated until atsumu finally got the balls to ask you out.
“what would you like today, atsumu?” you greeted, that soft angelic grin on your face, and he just knew he had to do it. he couldn’t ever let you go.
“you. me. a date.” he said casually, his eyes dripping with confidence. (interally, he was freaking out).
you tried maintaining your composure but failed so miserably. you couldn’t stop the smile that reached your eyes as soon as you heard those eyes. “i thought you would never ask.” you beamed at him.
chewing on your lower lip, you motioned for him to give you hand, to which he most happily obliged. your touch was a new heaven. so warm and so soft. he wished to be wrapped in it forever.
you held his hand steady as the tip of your pen scribbled on his skin. when atsumu looked down, he realized it to be your number, and his eyes stared at it in awe.
“text me.” you told him before walking off. then you stopped in your tracks, turning yourself back around until you’re back at atsumu’s table. “wait, shit. what do you want to eat?”
oh. he had completely forgotten about that. atsumu picked up the menu and quickly scanned for a fun dish name. “um, just the pizza napoletana and garlic bread.”
“you got it.” you noted it down. followed by, “no shrimp scampi?”
“(y/n), please. i feel like i’m flying right now, and you’re killing my mood.” atsumu’s face fell, feigning fake irritation, but you knew better.
you laughed. “alright, alright. i’ll be back soon.”
“you better be.” the setter scoffed before his face betrayed his true feelings.
and before you knew it, one date became two, then three, then four, and the rest was history, shrimp scampi along with it.
at least, that’s what atsumu thought.
“i thought you completely forgot about it.” atsumu whines.
you laugh, standing up from your place on the couch. “how could i ever forget that? i stopped the jokes because you got all sulky. besides, that’s how my little infatuation with you began.”
once you’re directly in front of him, atsumu places his hands on your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck. without even thinking, your hand finds its way to the back of his head, stroking it with affection. “of all things? not my good looks? or my nice arms? ” the blonde murmurs into your skin.
you hum in agreement. “well that came after.” your boyfriend groans, making you roll your eyes.
“i don’t think i ever told you this, but i was having a really rough shift the night the team came in. when you guys were put into my section, i nearly lost it.” you admit. “but then you asked for shrimps camping, and i lightened up, like all of my negative energy just drained out of my body. seeing you all flustered and blushing was so adorable in my eyes.”
your boyfriend pulls back, his face scrunched. “i didn’t realize you were in a foul mood that night.”
“had to fake it. you know how customer service is.” you shrug, a smirk taking over your face soon after. “but you were too busy admiring me to even notice it.”
atsumu grins smugly. he’s not even ashamed. “that i was.”
you roll your eyes. “you’re hopeless.”
the blonde setter hums, leaning in, and you meet him halfway, kissing him gently. atsumu’s arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you’re pressed against his body. you feel his lips twitch into a smile.
you’re the first to pull away, but your boyfriend is unsatisfied with that. he presses his lips to yours once again before you could even get another breath in. it’s a kiss full of affirmations that atsumu can’t voice. you feel it all through him. he’s so greedy when it comes to you, but he’d definitely agree with that statement without any complaint.
to atsumu, kissing you is a new kind of euphoria, one better than any service ace, better than any cool quick that he pulls off with his hitters. kissing you is like falling in love with you again, and it’s single-handedly the best feeling in the entire world.
he pulls away first with a proud smile. he steals a quick peck against your lips, then your nose, and then the rest of your face until you’re drowning in his affection.
you giggle, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “tsumu!”
atsumu sighs contentedly. his large hand cups your cheek. the rough skin of his thumb traces up and down your face. it’s so reassuring and so warm that you can’t help but lean into it.
“i love you, angel. y’know that right?” atsumu stares at you, adoration swimming in his eyes. everyday, he can’t believe that he gets to have you. he can’t believe he gets to come home and you’ll be there waiting for him, ready to hold him in your arms and kiss his knuckles when he tells you about his day.
you adjust your head ever so slightly to kiss his palm. “i know it. you never fail to make it known.”
you’ve come to realize that that’s who he is. your sweet boy, atsumu miya, is so full of love. behind the brashness and the insults, he has so much love in his heart that some days he doesn’t know what to do with it.
“i love you so much, atsumu miya. you are my life.” you whisper, bringing him in for another soul-igniting, cavity-inducing kiss. it’s intense, hotter, but that is just life with atsumu, a blaze of passion and fierceness.
you can feel him melt against you as if this is his first time doing this with you. you can feel him reciprocating your words. you know him so well that you can guess the words that follow. “all for me. my sweet angel. what did i do to deserve you?”
a memory springs to mind, causing you to cut the moment short as much as you’d like to continue. atsumu pouts at the loss of your lips against his. such a kid. still, he looks at you expectantly.
“i have to admit,” you’re kind of excited to see how he’ll react to it. “the entire restaurant knows you as the shrimps camping guy.”
atsumu stiffens against your body, and the horrified look on his face makes you burst out laughing. “you’re lying. (y/n), tell me you’re lying.”
“i’m sorry, my love. it’s true.” you reach out for his hand, but the blonde playfully shrugs it off.
“don’t touch me. how could you do this to me, huh? i thought we were for life!” atsumu turns away from you, shutting his eyes.
you roll your eyes. you should’ve expected this. in situations like these, there is one sentence that will make him forget everything immediately. “if i kiss you, will you forgive me?”
atsumu snaps his head back to you, and his eyes fly open, allowing you to catch the light that sparkles in them as he smiles widely. he’s so beautiful. “really?!” he exclaims but leaves no room for you to respond before he’s crashing your mouths together for the fourth time. you roll your eyes in disbelief but give into him immediately.
atsumu miya is so annoying, but he’s yours, and you wouldn’t give him up for anyone else in the world.
#anime#manga#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#hq#hq x reader#fluff#hq fluff#atsumu miya#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu x reader#⭑ — fics ⭑.ᐟ♡#♡ — hq#♡ — tsumu
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Best-friend!König who will create rumours about your beloved crushes, hoping and praying that you'll fall out of love with them. He'll create deep fakes and edited screenshots, presenting them to you so that he can comfort you, dote on you, and reassure you that you're better off without them. He's doing you a favour.
Best-friend!König who believes that he has permission to do whatever he desires with your body because you've been friends for so long. You know, friends with benefits! You trust each other, have known each other for years. He knows you like the back of his hand, Liebe. It's nothing serious — unless you want it to be! Just let him use your tight cunt for his own selfish gratification, you know he's too socially anxious to start a relationship... Don't you feel bad for him?
Best-friend!König who steals your worn and used underwear while staying over at your apartment, giving into the depraved thoughts that rot away his perverted mind. He'll jerk himself off while laying against your bed, breathing in your addictive and familiar scent, wrapping the soft fabric around his pulsating, leaking boner while listening to the sound of your soft and gentle humming in the shower, how blissfully unaware you are of his sickening acts. And when you leave the door unlocked, he can't help himself from the hypnotising sight.
Best-friend!König whose heart is shattered every time you friendzone him, claiming he's like a brother to you!
#orla speaks#cod x reader#könig call of duty#konig x reader#könig#könig x reader#cod mw2#könig cod#konig call of duty#cod konig#konig#könig fanfiction#konig fanfiction
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