#sorry in advance bby

[roseandbee]

Cozy muffin 😻

[denisestaplegend]

I’m gonna have to make my poor bf watch the finale with me even tho I tell him how much I hate this show all the time lmao

[trollamulet]

i've been thinking of adding the sturges to my multi; i already have a slot for jack, but i've been thinking of adding james & jim as well. or i might put them on the other multi under literature since theyre slightly different? idk.

& even then, jack's a little different on the blog than what he is in novel because i have jack as a changeling because fuck you thats why and i need to have an asshole fifteen-year old kid that's spent too much time around trolls. (i do think a bit of book jack leaked into my jim here but hey whatever its just fun)

[hyaciiintho]

🌸｡*ﾟ+. Starter call | @tenebriism

There's hesitance in entering the home once he had arrived. It didn't matter much whether he entered quickly, or slowly, Link knew Dark would either MEET him at the door, or open it for him beforehand. The silveret had a strange way of knowing WHEN Link was home. Not that he minded that.

The hero just wished he had more time to think over on how he would tell his husband the NEWS. No, it wasn't bad news, not really. After all, it was honor when the royal family appointed you as a respected KNIGHT of their kingdom. Link just knew with such an important and OFFICIAL title... came more important and official tasks.

'Maybe... it just means I'll get to be home more often..?' Came the hopeful thought, knowing that with Knightly duties, he would be required to remain in Hyrule, moving forward. No more traveling to far, distant lands for days at a time.

Yeah... maybe that... would be NICE...

Steeling himself through a deep inhale, fingers curled around the door handle and pressed onwards into their shared home, gaze on the floor all the while. It would be good news. Yes. GOOD news !!

[the-boy-meets-evil]

on second thought | jww

(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)

pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.

authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone

Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum. 

That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.

“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home. 

“No, I ate earlier,” he answers. 

“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.

“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says. 

“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say. 

“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees. 

“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.” 

This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo? 

“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.

“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer. 

Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.” 

The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure. 

“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.

“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.

“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble. 

“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.

“Uh, what?” you ask.

“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.” 

“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.” 

“Why not?” Wonwoo presses. 

“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious. 

“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks. 

“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.

“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.” 

There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill. 

Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear. 

And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.

“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles. 

“Pretend, sure,” he echoes. 

“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.

“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly. 

A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules. 

So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells. 

Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes. 

“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you. 

“Funny,” you say with an eye roll. 

Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.

“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.

“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.

You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either. 

“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything. 

It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve. 

You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters. 

It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out. 

He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you. 

Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.

Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs. 

With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.

“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine. 

“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy. 

He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before. 

“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.

He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal. 

“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter. 

“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.

You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel. 

“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply. 

“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too. 

You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now. 

“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns. 

“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back. 

Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs. 

“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.

“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire. 

“I love it when you call me that,” he admits. 

With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust. 

You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses. 

“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg. 

“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep. 

“Please,” you beg again. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. 

It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more. 

When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over. 

Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high. 

When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.

“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,”  you assure him

“Thank fuck,” he whispers. 

His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone. 

You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.

“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.

“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.

“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh. 

You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.” 

“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say. 

“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.

You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?” 

“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.

“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time. 

“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.

“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.

“Next time?” you wonder.

“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says. 

It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place. 

The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page. 

That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around. 

He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.

Until it doesn’t.

One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started. 

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment. 

He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?” 

“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear. 

“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand. 

You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.” 

“Of course not,” he says. 

Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed. 

He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you. 

The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning. 

That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked. 

“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble. 

“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan. 

“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.

“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out. 

“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says. 

“I know,” you sigh. 

“So, what’s going on?” he asks. 

Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night. 

None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.

“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.” 

“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised. 

“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says. 

“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.

“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says. 

“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.

“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.

“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.

“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.

It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited. 

There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird. 

“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts. 

“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?” 

He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?” 

“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say. 

He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.” 

“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.” 

“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.

“I just thought…” you start.

“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure. 

The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.

Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings. 

It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.

“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness. 

“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake. 

“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep. 

“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says. 

That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him. 

“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.

“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.

“Why should I?” you challenge. 

“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.

“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.” 

“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”

“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.

“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”

“To avoid me?” you supply. 

“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits. 

“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.” 

“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.

“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say. 

“About what?” he asks. 

“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately. 

You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation. 

You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him. 

When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized. 

“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit. 

“What’s that?” he asks.

“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.

“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous. 

“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug. 

“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.

That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?” 

“I don’t know, a while,” he says. 

You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.” 

“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.” 

“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool. 

“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment. 

“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.

“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.” 

Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.

“Yeah, we’re doing this.” 

Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural. 

i hope you enjoyed it! 💕

[yuanology]

I imagine spanking Satoru in my lap while whispering lewd things about him being a pervert while the only thing he can do is sob and bite my shoulder ,bby is so lost in pleasure he wishes to end up as satisfied as his best friend who is laying asleep in front of him but bby is so new he is ashamed of asking so force him into telling what he wants and then like …corruption kink akksnwkaoaoao😋🐸 idkkkk 🫨

hey ...... i'm sorry in advance for this one. i don't fucking know what this is either. also, this ended up being an entirely separate thing from the original satosugu fic & this is just........ afab!satoru getting his cunt slapped raw while suguru—who's implied to have been fucked by reader earlier—is passed the fuck out. &. i ended up writing this as a teacher!suguru au a.k.a everything goes well au so yeah, don't get confused

despite common first impression, twenty-eight years old gojo "the strongest" satoru had never been touched by anyone before. yes, you heard that right. he was still a virgin; pure and untouched.

before he came to jujutsu tech—before he left home, before he found out about the world, before he realised that he was practically a damn princess stuck in his tower—satoru hadn't even thought of the art of carnal pleasure. he had thought it was just something that happened, not something to indulge himself in.

growing up amongst people his age had been an awakening, that was for certain. his hands started wrapping around himself more often, the collar of his shirt caught between his teeth as he stifled the noise escaping his throat. porn became a commodity, and satoru wasn't exactly oblivious to it, he just never had the time or opportunity to try it.

until you.

satoru let loose another sob, tears streaking down his face. his teeth was caught around the meat of your shoulder, and he could barely breathe around it, much less speak coherently. he still whimpered, "too much."

"you wanted this," you reminded him, your voice low and dirty and so, so fucking real that it's driving him insane. nothing—nothing, no lewd images or videos or even his own imagination—could compare to the feeling of you right now. "you asked me for this, baby."

and you were right. he had asked for this, craving your closeness just as much as he craved the feeling of your hands on him. he had asked you for this, physically and audibly begged you to give him a taste of the things that he had seen and watched all these years.

finally, satoru had thought to himself when he met you properly for the first time. finally, someone who can understand. who can finally give me what i need. it hadn't taken much time before he was on his knees, begging for you to give him everything and so much more. men like gojo satoru didn't make a habit out of begging, but you were an exception amongst many others.

your only response had been a raised, unimpressed eyebrow before you told him that you would consider it. he didn't blame you for it. it wasn't as if your relationship with his own best friend, suguru, was a secret, even if it wasn't official. but satoru had to try.

(and he had asked suguru about it already, kicking at the floorboard underneath him with an out-of-character show of shyness, until suguru had laughed at him, clapped him on the shoulder, and said, "yeah, sure. what's mine is yours and all that—if you can get him to agree, that is." so.)

but when he had asked you to show him what it meant to feel good hurt during sex, he had never expected you to do this to him—to be so mean and so fucking rough, to be so, so desperately cruel to him in ways that he had never seen you do to anyone else.

fuck, satoru thought dazedly. the position—his body bent over your lap, his ass high in the air and his cunt flushes, twitching, and so fucking exposed—had him distinctly dizzy, his head dropping at an awkward angle on the mattress but he didn't care.

he blinked away the tears in his eyes, but the slumped figure of his best friend's body passed out a behind you on the bed remained blurry. how the fuck do you handle this? he wondered.

he let out another whimper when your hand met the meat of his ass, and he could feel it fucking jiggle. he found it so humiliating, but you must think otherwise because you groped his asscheek with an air of smugness. you pried his ass apart, making him grimace when he felt his slick slide down his thigh, betraying him.

"look at you, baby," you cooed, chuckling to yourself. "you're fucking dripping all over the place. you're so desperate for it, huh? pretty virgin like you probably doesn't even know what it's like to be touched like this."

your voice was a light musing, distinctly distant and almost detached in your amusement, but satoru couldn't help but feel raw all over; an exposed nerve ready to be flayed over an open fire. he was sensitive, each inch of his skin a weakness that leaves him feel vulnerable.

"hurts," satoru croaked out miserably, feeling a bit like a fool for saying it. his words are garbled, slurred—almost watery in a way satoru hadn't known was possible before.

"hm." your hand left his hand, making a whine escape the back of satoru's throat. his voice returned to something subdued, something calmer, when he realised that you're simply moving to rest your hand on the small of his back.

"i suppose i can give you mercy," you said, your voice a low drawl that sent goosebumps racing along his skin. "just this once."

satoru couldn't help the whimper that escaped him. even through the heavy haze in his mind, he knew that he couldn't have this without a price. you always demanded an equal pay be returned for the price of your kindness. he had watched you wring dry orgasm after orgasm out of suguru, even when his best friend's body was limp, practically motionless save for the overstimulated twitches and the sobs that escaped suguru's throat, all in exchange for having satoru there with them tonight.

you must notice the sudden shift in his attitude, the way his ass was wriggling in the air almost desperately, because you snickered and your hand pressed him down harder against your lap. fuck, he thinks, feeling himself dripping all over the place at the feeling of you.

"how about this," you offered. "five more spankings, and i want you to count. if you miss one, we'll start over." your hand caressed the swell of his ass, your movements gentle as you soothed the spank marks you had left there earlier.

as much as satoru knew he shouldn't believe you, he still couldn't help the way he sniffled at the feeling and asked, "promise?"

you chuckled, the sound soft. your lips met the skin on his back, right over his spine. "sure, baby," you said. "i promise. just five more, okay? you'll be a good boy, won't you, satoru? you'll stay still for me?"

satoru nodded eagerly, chewing at this lower lip at the sound of your praise. good boy. yes, he could be your good boy. he would always be your good boy.

although he couldn't see it, he knew your smile was there when you said, "good. don't forget to count, okay, baby?" which, really, should have been the first sign of something dangerous looming.

the sound of your hand slapping his skin was promptly followed by a fucking howl that was stripped out of his throat; loud and jagged and surprised and so fucked over that satoru's head throbbed with it.

because jesus motherfucking fuck, you just slapped his cunt.

"count, baby."

satoru could barely even think past the static ringing in his air, stuffing his brain full with cloth, but he thought he might have choked out a whimpering, "one."

your hand moved once again to his cunt, he motion gentler this time. you didn't spank him again but rather, you spread his legs, exposing more of his cunt, and he whimpers in anticipation.

but your fingers only breach the lips of his cunt, spreading his labia apart to look at the slick already dripping the moment his folds were parted. you cooed at him, and satoru felt himself burning with so much fucking feelings that he couldn't even identify a proper source for it.

holy shit.

"four more," you whispered, your thumb dragging along his slit down to his clit. you rubbed it for a moment, causing satoru to whine at the feeling. "just a bit more, okay, baby?"

he didn't know if he nodded, or if he just lay there across your lap—rooted in place and feeling lightheaded, entirely motionless—but you must have found something you wanted to see from him because he could feel you moving again.

anticipating what would come after didn't make it any easier to handle.

your palm met the centre of his cunt perfectly, the tips of your fingers catching his clit, and satoru sobbed. "two," he quickly scrambled to rasp out before you could make him repeat it, before you could make him start all over. "two, that's—" he catches his breath, tongue feeling swollen in his mouth. "that's two."

"good boy."

another slap, making his back arch and his body squirm away from the sensation. the sound was fucking disgusting, even more so now that the slick accumulating on his cunt had created a pillow for your hand to rest on, creating a loud squelching sound that made satoru's toes curl.

"three," satoru whimpered. "it hurts."

"just two more," you reassured him, your fingers grazing over his entrance but never once dipping inside. fuck. "can you do that for me?"

satoru sniffled, but he nodded. "two more," he repeated.

"good boy."

your next slap came in sharp and quick, and he barely managed to blurt out, "four." before he collapses into sobs. his body is slumped, weak and unable to even twitch.

one more, he thought. just one more.

letting out a ragged breath, satoru's voice bleeds into a high keen when he feels you pull back the hood over his clit, exposing the sensitive nerve. the realisation of what you're about to do strikes him a second, too late.

no, you're going to—

your entire fucking palm met his exposed clit, sending up a burning sensation across the length of satoru's spine. "five!" satoru shouted, a little desperate, a lot hurt, equal measures of feeling fucked right out of his mind.

"fuck, that's five. that's—" he couldn't even finish his sentence, already broken off to sobs and whimpers as his entire fucking body trembles at the feeling of it. fuck. every inch of him felt numb; all of the hurt centred on the feeling of your slap on his clit.

the world is a hazy blur of static and cotton and distance for a long moment. when satoru's world comes back into focus, he's still on your lap, but seated now, positioned in a way that saved his cunt from any accidental stimulation. his mouth parted and drool dripping down the corners of your lips, but your hands are on his his back, keeping him close, and you're murmuring sweet nothings to him.

and he must have done something—something right, something wrong—because he feels himself going weightless and then your lips are brushing over the shell of his ear, and you're telling him, "get your rest, satoru. you deserve it."

oh, satoru thought dazedly, feeling the world drift in and out of motion for a long moment. this is why. because for all your cruelty and all your harshness, you were exceptionally gentle in the aftermath. satoru's vision is blurring around the edges, but he feels you all the same—warm and present and there.

"g'night," he thought he might've slurred out.

he might imagine the feeling of your lips on his temple, but he liked to think that it was real all the same.

[nickfowlerrr]

Bellllaaaaa hiiii:)

I’m hooked on biker/bartender bucky(even tattoo artist bucky) with fucking Tats right now and I’d totally love if you could maybe write him and chubby/plus sized reader having a flirty relationship, maybe they’re like a fling or something. She works at his bar/tattoo shop, whichever au you pick, and they’re just fucking flirty and so naughty together lol

Smut is always welcomed!!

Thank u bby in advance<3 mwahhh🥺💋

about how it started..

pairing: bartender!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. pining. flirting. smut. a little tiny hint of voyeurism/exhibitionism. if i’m missing something pls lmk!

words: 3.1k

notes: thank you, mickey, for sending this and sorry it took so long! i kind of wanted to incorporate more mention of his tattoos but i felt like i kept screwing it up so i kept it very vague - i’m sorry. but i hope you like this! i really love the idea and i’d love to do more with them in the future, too (including more of his tattoos too 🥴), so thank you, thank you, thank you!! 🥰

also this gif isn’t necessarily the bucky i was picturing but the visible tattoo feels right so whatever 😌

i hope you guys enjoy this! thank you in advance for reading and reblogging. as always, feedback and comments are always welcome and so appreciated! 🖤

You know you should be checking tables right now. You know. But goddamn if you can’t take your eyes off of the brawny, blue eyed, six foot something beauty that is Bucky Barnes.

You’re leaning against the far end of the bar, eyes fixed on him with no plans of trailing anywhere else.

He’s making another Sex on the Beach for the less than subtle, leggy, bleach blonde who’s been fawning over him since she got here. When she and the other college girls showed up, seeming to have already been pregaming, you knew tonight wouldn’t be uneventful.

You could obsess over the fact that the twenty one year old, who looked like she stepped right off a runway, was currently pushing her chest out and twirling her perfectly styled hair as she continued rambling on and on to Bucky, but his disinterest was clear to you as he kept a polite smile and entertained her as he finished the drink.

That, and because you had no right or reason to obsess over who was flirting with him and when.

Right?

You pushed the thoughts away as you admired Bucky’s profile. The way some of his hair had fallen out of his bun and hung around his perfectly sculpted face. How his brilliantly blue eyes shone still through the dark strands. And god did you envy his perfectly shaped nose. Your eyes fell to his lips as he smiled at something the girl said, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care, you were so caught up in the beauty of it. He gave her the drink before he tucked the loose hair behind his ears.

You watched as the girl held out a twenty with a sultry smile and a wink before Bucky took it with a small laugh as she sauntered off back to her friends.

He put it in the cash box and then pushed up his sleeves as he took the time to count out how much the bar had made so far tonight.

You swear your mouth went dry as his tattoos were on display now. The dark ink that told story after story lining his forearm, and though you couldn’t see them right now, led all the way up his strong arm only added to the endless list of things that made him attractive. The artwork was mesmerizing. Just like him.

“You just gonna stare at me your whole shift, sweetheart?” he says to you without looking over, a smirk playing on his lips.

You take in a breath before pushing off the bar and walk over to meet him where he stands.

“Who says I was staring at you?” you question and lean over just slightly to glance at Torres who was pouring shots at the other end of the bar.

Bucky turns to follow your gaze and gives a laugh when he sees who you’re referring to.

“You and Torres, huh?” he plays along, smirk never faltering. He finishes his count and tucks the box back under the bar before he turns fully to you, blocking your view of the younger man completely, not that you cared.

Bucky walks into you, backing you up until you’re forced into the dead corner of the bar. You nearly stop breathing when he leans into you, his cologne invading your senses, his warmth surrounding you as he keeps you trapped between him and the bar, his thick arms on either side of you. Your lips part on an inaudible gasp when his lips brush against your ear.

“He know I was guts deep inside you last night? How you were screaming my name, begging me not to pull out? So fuckin’ desperate to be full‘a me,” he reminds you as his hands find your waist and he squeezes your softness before pulling you flush against him and letting his hands slide down to your ass. “How many times did you come again? I think I lost count,” he taunts as he leans over you and gropes you shamelessly.

You can see out past his shoulder as he nearly nuzzles into your neck, your eyes growing heavy with desire as your lips stay parted in heated awe.

Your eyes meet the blonde Bucky had just served as she looks on in a bit of a stupor before blinking and turning away with a hint of a blush warming her cheeks.

“Watch it, Barnes. You’re gonna lose out on tips if you’re not careful,” you warn playfully, if not a bit breathily.

When he starts kissing your neck, your knees become unsteady as a warmth starts to grow in your tummy.. and lower. Your hands latch onto the front of his shirt in an effort to stay steady.

You’ve noticed he’s been getting more brazen every day, more teasing and touching when he knows full well people can see, and the fact that he really doesn’t seem to care sparks a bit of hope that maybe this could grow into something more than what it started as.

But as Bucky nips and then gently kisses your pulse point, all thoughts fly right out the window as your main focus is solely on not melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Don’t care,” he says against your delicate skin, placing another kiss to your neck before you push him back just slightly. “What?” he asks as a half smile adorns his face when he stands up straight again, looking down at you.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish right now,” you say as you hold his smoldering gaze.

“You think I won’t fuck you right now?” he challenges, his seriousness sending a thrill up your spine.

You let out a nervous, disbelieving laugh as you push him to turn around. “I think you have some patrons waiting for your attention,” you say, ignoring the desire burning deep within at his words.

He sucks his teeth as he walks back over to the lively area of the bar, but not before eyeing you with a look that promises he isn’t done with you tonight.

You watch him back before spinning around and coming out from behind the bar to start checking tables.

—

You’re leaning over a newly emptied table close to the bar when you feel his heavy gaze on you.

The low cut scoop neck of your top already offered a generous view of your cleavage, but as you’re leaning over to wipe the table down, you’re sure he can see right down your shirt. You hide your smirk as you walk around the table and make a show of leaning over once more, your tight black skirt that hugs your tummy riding up your thick thighs as you do. You’d forgone underwear under your opaque black tights and wonder for a second how much he can see as you bend further over the table.

You don’t have much time to wonder as suddenly Bucky is right up behind you. You stand up against him, your ass brushing against his crotch. His hands are on your skirt as he adjusts it back down for you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, voice low and husky.

“Cleaning a table,” you answer innocently as you stay where you are, enjoying the feeling of his large hands on your wide hips and his solid chest at your back.

“Yeah? Cuz from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re purposely being a little tease.”

“Me?” you say in faux offense, turning to face him. “I’d never. Just doing my job, boss.”

He pushes you back against the table just slightly, “So, you’re telling me you haven’t been thinking about how hot it’d be if I came up behind you, ripped your tights open and fucked you stupid right here on this table?”

You swallow hard as you feel yourself growing wet at the scene that plays out in your mind. The bar is near empty as you’re both getting ready to close up but the idea of Bucky taking you right here and now, onlookers be damned, has heat creeping up your skin.

“Say I have. What are you gonna do about it?” you whisper wantonly, eyes swimming with lust.

A sinful growl escapes him as he presses himself closer to you. You can feel his growing bulge against you and it takes everything in you to not let out the whimper that threatens to slip past your lips.

Joaquin left twenty minutes ago after him and Bucky served last call, so it’s just you two and the lingerers who are slowly making their way out.

“What am I gonna do about it?” he repeats as his hand comes up to hold your chin. He leans down, face to face with you as he continues headily, never taking his eyes off yours, “I’m gonna fuck you stupid. Right here. On this table,” he breathes each sentence before he finally takes your lips in his. It’s gentler than you expect as your eyes flutter shut and the sound of the entrance door closing behind the last patron signals that you’re alone now.

You sigh into his mouth before you pull him closer, the kiss growing more heated with each moment that passes.

You let Bucky ruck up your skirt as your hands fumble with his belt before you start working on his button and zipper. You stop him for just a second, grabbing his hand, “You rip ‘em, you buy ‘em,” you tell him, earning a grin from him.

“Deal,” he says before easily tearing your tights and turning you around, forcing you down against the table.

“No underwear, huh?” he taunts as he rips your tights even more, his thick fingers wasting no time in playing with your wetness on full display for him.

Your legs are spread as you moan at the delightful feeling of his fingers pushing into your sex, opening you up for him as he scissors his fingers inside your tight heat before curling them the way he knows you like.

“Fuck, Bucky, please,” you whine as you clutch onto the table, pushing your hips backs and trying to fuck yourself on his hand.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re perfect,” he swears before landing a stinging slap to your ass and pulling his fingers out. He quickly tugs down his jeans and frees himself from his boxers, his erection hot, heavy, and throbbing.

“Make me so fuckin’ hard, you know that?”

You only mewl in response as he runs the head of his cock through your folds, teasing you. He doesn’t have as much patience as he normally does, though. He’s been thinking of you nonstop since you left his apartment this morning. Been wanting you close again from the second you left his bed.

He knows this was just supposed to be a fun fling, but from the first time he kissed you, he knew he was done for. He knew he’d only want more.

And he was right.

He wanted all of it with you, not just sex. He wanted to spend his days cuddling you in his bed, watching movies, talking about nothing; hell, he even had to stop himself from texting you the other day to see if you were busy when he had to go get groceries because he wanted your company.

He was hooked on you completely.

But this “fling” was your idea and he didn’t want to run you off with the idea of commitment so soon. So for now, this would have to do. And who was he to complain about the nights he got to spend flirting with you, teasing you, taking you apart only to put you back together in his arms come morning.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as the head of his cock catches along your slick entrance, a hiss emanating from him as you gasp at the feeling.

He slowly lets himself push in, deeper and deeper until his hips are flush against your ass and he’s filling you completely.

Your soft moans urge him on as he begins to fuck you, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass filling the quiet of the empty bar. As he starts to thrust harder, the squelching noises of your fucking grow louder and louder as you moan without care, your hips hitting the edge of the table over and over with his every thrust.

His hands frame your waist as he holds you tight, rutting ever deeper inside of you, his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly as you whine and gasp in pure pleasure, the coil in your belly tightening with each glide of his cock along your walls and every nudge against your g-spot. Bucky slips a hand down and finds your puffy clit, circling it as he feels you getting closer, your walls squeezing him tighter and tighter.

Your toes are curling in your shoes as your feet arch and slip against the floor when the muscles in your legs and core tighten and strain as your walls clench down on his thick cock and your orgasm hits you hard.

In the same instance, Bucky growls as the swinging of the entrance door sounds. You don’t even bother to look up as you’re lost in the euphoria of your high.

“We’re closed,” Bucky barks, his hips never faltering as he continues to fuck you while your eyes screw shut in overwhelming pleasure.

You vaguely hear a fumbling apology and the door closing once more as Bucky buries himself inside of you, leaning over your bent body and rutting into you as his groans and moans tumble heavily from his lips. With one more thrust, you sigh breathily as you feel him spill inside of you.

The weight of his body on top of yours is a comfort you can’t help but revel in as he holds you still and gets all of his release out, your velvety walls milking his cock as he fills you with his hot come.

He’s breathing heavily as he comes down from his orgasm and gently pulls his cock out of you. You instinctively press your legs together, your thick thighs making it easy. You push yourself up off the table after a moment and turn around, fixing your skirt as you do.

“Fuck,” you breathe under your breath happily. “Maybe lock the door next time?” you suggest playfully, “Or, at least turn the ‘OPEN’ light off.”

“Next time?” Bucky says with a raised brow and a smirk as he fixes his pants. “You like getting fucked in the bar that much?”

“Well, you did say something about fucking me stupid.. And not that that was bad at all, but, I’m not feeling very stupid right now.”

He licks his lips as he takes you in, taking your hands in his and tugging you close. “Why don’t you come home with me and I’ll get you there,” he says smoothly.

“That’d make it three nights in a row,” you say, a little unsure. “You sure you wanna risk it? I might not wanna leave.”

“I might not want you to,” he says, surprising you by how soft and sincere his voice is.

You meet his eye and swear you could drown in the glimmering blues as he smiles that schoolboy smile. You let out a shaky, nervous laugh.

“You fallin’ for me, Barnes?” you tease playfully - just a hint of hope laced in your tone.

He surprises you again as he takes hold of your chin, peering deep into your eyes, before he brushes his nose against your, his lips inches away from your own as you breath each other in for a second.

And then he kisses you.

Soft, yet firm and as you lose yourself in it, a deep yearning for Bucky that you’ve kept down from day one rears her head once more.

You part for a second to breathe before you crash your lips into his again, pulling him closer to you by the front of his shirt.

Your tongues glide against one another as he slips his in expertly before kissing you deeply.

He lets his forehead fall to yours as he parts from you.

You're breathless as he wears a nervous smile you’ve never seen on him before.

“Say I have. What are you gonna do about it?” he repeats your earlier taunt, trying to hide his anxiousness as he waits for you to respond.

You suck your lip as you consider him, biting back the smile threatening to take over your face.

“I’d tell you that, maybe, I’ve fallen for you, too,” you admit shyly, looking up to see his cocksure smile back in full force, just the way it always is.

“Then I’d tell you to take me back to your apartment,” you say, leaning into him for another sultry kiss. “So you can fuck me stupid,” you breathe against his lips, “as many times as you want.”

You nearly squeal as you're taken off your feet in the next second, Bucky’s strong arms holding you securely as you wrap your own around him.

“That I will happily comply with,” he says, kissing you hotly as you smile into it. You pull away just slightly to speak.

“We didn’t finish closing,” you laugh.

“Don't care,” he says, kissing you again as he easily walks to the bar, holding you with surprising ease that you aren’t sure you’ll ever get used to before he sets you down. “We can do it tomorrow,” he excuses, grabbing his keys from behind the bar and flicking the lights out. You grab your jacket and bag from the shelf you kept them on and follow behind Bucky as he locks the doors, escorting you out and to his car.

Before you get there, he turns on you, both of you stopping in your spots.

“We really doing this?” he asks, wanting to make sure this is really what you want, too.

You smile and nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He lets himself smile in return.

“So I can call you mine, now?” he asks, grabbing your hand, pulling you to him.

“I’d be good with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“You sure? Cuz once we make this official, I’m gonna let everyone know. I might never shut up about it.”

You can’t help but laugh at how excited and proud he sounds. “I think I’m okay with that,” you smile up at him, meeting his lips in another kiss before he leads you to the car and opens the door for you to get in.

You know you’re okay with that. It’s what you’d been hoping for from the first time you’d kissed, for this to lead to something real, something more. Now here you were.

He wanted to officially call you his, and Bucky was finally, truly yours.

[sim0nril3y]

Hi bby girl. Love your writing, I told you before as an anon and I came back bc I love how you put into words

(Sorry to use anon, I'm very shy)

I wanted to request you to write about civilian!reader and Simon being emotional in the middle of the act. Reader feels overwhelmed by all the emotions and feelings and it's like she starts sobbing bc of all the pleasure and praising from Simon

Thank you in advance! Keep writing, you make us happy 💗

Note: eeeeeeee thank you so much for your request, I love, love, loved writing it so much, hope that I did it justice! you are so sweeeeeeet for all your kind words, ily! (no need to be shy, i'm super friendly, i promise!) Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, p in v, overwhelming sex, multiple orgasms, crying during sex, caring Simon, canon typical swearing.

It was impossible to say how long that Simon had been curled over your frame, fucking into you deep with his perfectly fat and long cock, his lips pressed against every inch of his skin that he could reach, clasping needily at you whilst whispering the most sinful and sweet notions into your ear.

By now you had lost count of how many times you had spasmed and squirmed to completion on Simon’s cock, panting and clawing at his skin whilst your whined and whimpered. It was overwhelming to say the least. A delicious and intoxicating mixture of cumming hard around his cock as it stroked and prodded at the deepest parts that only Simon could reach.

“There you go.” Simon breathed heavily, smiling against your warm skin feeling you coming apart around him again. “Give it me, baby. Give me everything.” He praised, voice a little strained. “Y’such a good girl for me. You perfect little cunt was made for my fat fuckin’ cock.” Simon nipped at your earlobe. “My good girl. My good fuckin’ girl.”

It was overwhelming. That was putting it mildly. There was this build of emotions that was bubbling in your chest, like a big ball caught rising up and up until falling a fraught sob caught in your throat. Wait, were you crying? What did you start crying? Oh, shit.

The sound had caught Simon’s attention, eyes scanning across your face to try and figure out the problem before finally stilling his hips, keeping his cock firmly stuffed inside your sopping walls. “Babe. Baby, what’s wrong? Tell me.” He urged with so much concern and care to his tone, thinking for even a moment that he might have hurt you or pushed you too far was almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” You whimpered out, nodding frantically. “It’s just so good. It’s so fucking good, Si.” You continued, watching the little smug smile that pulled across his lips. “You’re so good. Your cook is so good.” All the while tears tumbled down your cheeks but an emotional grin on your lips. “Y-you make me feel so good.”

Chuckling lowly, Simon pressed a kiss to your forehead and asked. “So, it’s good?” He teased before listening to your sobs tumble into giggles. “Yeah. It’s good.” You responded. “Alright. Let’s just… take a little break, hmm?” Carefully slipping out Simon rolled you into your side and wrapped his arms around you. “Daft bloody…” He muttered, leaning in to press a couple soothing kisses to your temple. “W-what about you? You didn’t cum…” That much was evident with how his hard cock pressed up against your ass.

“Mm, it’s a good thing I fuckin’ love you.” Simon teased, honestly not caring about his own needs at this moment, just knowing that he needed to comfort you in this moment. With just as much emotion, you whimpered back. “Love you too, Si. Love you so much.”

Masterlist | Ask | 28-01-2024

[kaizokuniichan]

Poker Face

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Summary: A cocktail waitress in the Gran Tesoro casino takes a liking to Zoro and you can’t stand it. Reader is toxic. Pettiness ensues.

Note: Takes place during Film Gold although it’s just the backdrop. No canon characters apart from Zoro.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warning: Basic toxic behavior, degradation, spitting, hair pulling, devious back shots

Tags: @eelnoise @bby-deerling @kibblz-n-bitz @sunshinescribes @sleepymarimo

You were going to kill him. You were going to throttle him if he didn’t get that busty cocktail waitress’s hands off of him.

All night you’d been trying to convince yourself that the woman was simply doing her job of preying on the weak-willed desires of male patrons in exchange for their lecherous ogling. But Zoro wasn’t just any male patron, and her needling went far beyond a means to an end. She wanted him, and she’d done everything outside of plop herself into his lap to make her point.

Cacophonous hoots and hollers from the other Blackjack tables dulled in your ears as you watched the woman scratch her talons up and down the starched sleeve of his cream suit jacket. He remained infuriatingly obtuse while draining another glass in his typical, uncouth manner. Though he continued to ignore her advances, you still ground your teeth when her blood red, coffin-shaped claws dug into his arm. There was only so much of his obliviousness you could take—after all, he wasn’t the type to allow just anyone to put their hands on him. At this point, it appeared that he was playing some sort of game to fuck with you. For what reason, you couldn’t say.

The urge to ruin her perfectly installed lash extensions with a violent slam to the table spread like venom in your veins as an envious green serpent curled and coiled into a hiss behind your darkened eyes. He was more than aware of the murderous intent licking at your fingertips, yet he refused to spare you any glance or make any move to shove the woman off. Yes, he was most certainly fucking with you.

Another roll of dice bounced softly onto the felt tabletop and the man beside you raised his glass with a jubilant shout. He’d been hopelessly trying to win your affection by purchasing all of your drinks and asking you to blow on the dice as his “good luck charm”. He is quite handsome you thought to yourself as you admired him. A bit on the older side, and much more clean cut than what you were used to, but cute enough all the same.

With wicked ease you ran your fingers down his arm to mirror the wretched tart on the other side of the table. You caught the polite man’s warm smile and tried to picture yourself falling for someone more elegant like him, but unfortunately your heart had already been claimed by the rugged, classless oaf sitting on the other side of the table.

Before you could stop yourself your feet carried you to the other side where the two of them sat—her head resting on his shoulder, and his eyes flitted to you when you stood in front of them.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.”

He’d only been mildly thrown off by the acid in your tone, but she had more sense to cower.

“I’m sorry, is there something that you need?”

You couldn’t decide if you were satisfied with the tremor in her voice, or annoyed that she’d even dared to speak to you.

“This doesn’t really seem like very “professional” behavior.”

“I’m…sorry?”

The woman was an idiot. Anyone with half a brain could see you weren’t in the mood for mindless chat, especially with someone as irrelevant as her. You chose to ignore her and returned your attention back to him.

“Are you really doing this?”

He remained silent while little flickers of amusement tickled his lips. The woman eventually gained enough sense to disentangle herself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize he was your-“

“He’s not. Have at him sweetie.”

You placed a palm to his face and mushed it as you walked past while simultaneously knocking your shoulder into hers. Under her breath there was an utterance of some sort that involved the word “bitch”, and it took everything within you not to whip back around and hurl your purse at her head. No use damaging a perfectly good bag.

As your heels clacked across the marble floors your body trembled with rage. A stiff drink probably would’ve done you some good but you weren’t in the mood, and the rest of the crew were off gallivanting around the casino but you had no desire to join them.

As luck would have it, a stool was vacated right as you arrived, and once settled in your seat, you plopped your purse on the counter and rolled your shoulders. The tension in your muscles slowly faded, and the heat simmering beneath your skin was cooled by the vent blasting overhead.

Your short-lived luck soon met its end as your attempts at flagging down the bartender were unsuccessful. After several fruitless waves, you made the decision to just end the night, but your movements were halted when a warm hand softly touched the small of your back. The touch was much too unfamiliar to be anyone from the crew—and certainly not that damned swordsman. You geared up to tell off the unwelcome guest but when you turned around you were met with the sensual gaze of the handsome man from the previous table.

“Need some help?”

You flashed him your most dazzling smile. He deserved it.

“From you? Of course.”

You heard his short intake of breath and knew you had him completely hooked—not that it took much effort really. From appearances alone it was obvious he was someone who easily garnered lots of attention. And yet you were the one who’d bewitched him, and he longed for your company. He wished to serve you, and you began flirting with the idea of allowing it. Hopefully that shitty asshole a few tables over had a perfect view.

The harried bartender finally arrived with your seltzer and lime, and your prior annoyance was quelled by his sincere apologies. The gentleman stopped your hand when you offered a tip, sliding his card over instead.

“Someone as pretty as yourself should never open their wallet.”

You snapped your clutch closed with a smirk. The guy was completely entranced.

He sat down beside you and began to ramble about his name, where he was from, and whatever it was he did that made his pockets long. You were sure it had to be interesting, but all of his words were diluted by the fog of your lingering jealousy. It was unfair to him, but you needed the distraction to keep yourself from being vexed for the rest of the night.

The squeak of Handsome Stranger’s chair blew aside your bitter thoughts when he tried to subtly inch closer, so you threw him a bone and adjusted yourself to allow the slit in your skirt to reveal more skin. Embers of his desire glowed deep his eyes, and he took a nervous gulp of his scotch before speaking.

“I hope I’m not being too forward but I would love to invite you back to my penthouse suite for a little nightcap, if you were so inclined?”

Your suddenly rose when you felt a piercing, steely glare from somewhere off to the side. Observation haki was not something you were completely practiced in, but it always seemed to appear in the most convenient times.

It was unfortunate that this sweet man was an innocent casualty in the toxic web he’d been ensnared in. The dim lights of the casino reflected in his enlarged pupils as he waited expectantly for your reply—as did the gruff man in the distance.

“Oh I would love to. But I have my nightly upkeep that I must maintain. Lots of serums and oils and creams to remain all nice and soft and sweet for tasteful men such as yourself. I wouldn’t want you to catch me looking anything less than perfect.”

He leaned closer and gently placed a cool hand over yours.

“If you come with me tonight I’ll have people that can handle your every need. Just stay with me. Let me take care of you.”

The guy was smooth, you’d certainly give him that. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles and he cocked his head to the side as if to bring his lips to your cheek, but a large hand grabbed his shoulder and forcefully shoved him back.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Well. That barely took any time. You’d planned on at least allowing the man to walk you to the elevator.

“Excuse you,” you pouted theatrically, “that was very rude.”

Zoro slipped between the two seats to block the man from your sight.

“You done having your fun?”

Still playing nonchalant, you removed your lipgloss from your clutch and applied a few swipes across your lips.

“I don’t know what you mean. Please step aside so I can finish chatting with this lovely gentleman.”

Zoro side-eyed the man still gathering himself from being nearly toppled over and let out a dry laugh.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re gonna have to do a lot better if you wanna get a rise outta me.”

You sniffed and pretended to touch up the rest of your makeup though you knew it wasn’t needed—you looked absolutely divine.

“Well clearly it has, otherwise you wouldn’t be over here harassing my-“

“Your what?”

The man finally straightened himself out and stood by your side.

“Miss, is this guy bothering you? Shall I call security?”

Aw, what a sweetie. You began to feel a little bad for him when he was shouldered aside by Zoro’s massive body.

“So,” he scoffed, still ignoring him, “not only are you tryna piss me off, but you’re doing it with someone who thinks you’re weak?”

“Not everyone needs to use brute force to get their point across Zoro. We’re not all Neanderthals.”

Zoro’s face morphed into a taunting smirk that filled your belly with lava.

“True. But I know someone who needs brute force when they’re being a hypocritical brat.”

You fought the urge to tug him closer by the lapels of his suit jacket and bite his stupid lips just to shut him up.

The head of the unsuspecting man ping-ponged between your prickly jibes, and he stepped back as the realization of his use as a ploy began to sink in.

“I think I’d better just go.”

Zoro flashed him a maniacal grin as he stumbled away, and you began to gather your things when his arm hooked around your waist to drag you back into his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Well,” you sighed as you tried to pull yourself free from his grasp, “you’ve effectively ruined my fun for the evening so I’m off to bed. Maybe you should go find your little girlfriend from earlier.” You heard him snicker as you walked away.

A sea of affluent casino-dwellers parted as you lead him back to the elevators, and he pressed his hard body into your back as he reached out to push the button. His warm breaths against your neck melted your glacial attitude, and his closeness was so foreboding that the levy of your sanity nearly collapsed.

The elevator doors slid open and he pushed you inside as a crowd of elaborately dressed guests exited. The night was fairly young so it was unlikely that anyone from the crew would come looking for you.

The lift climbed the floors with smooth efficiency and paused occasionally to allow more guests to enter and exit. The excitement in the box was palpable though it couldn’t quite penetrate the curtain of tension separating the two of you from the rest of the crowd. His fingers curled firmly around your hip and the subtle poke in his slacks left you breathless. Glancing at your glossy reflection in the gold-plated walls proved to be a mistake as you were met with menacing eyes and a callous grin that promised retribution.

You were under no impression that you’d part ways once you arrived at your floor, and your hands shook as you searched your bag for your key. Anxiety clawed at your chest when he swiped the key from your hands to slap it onto the card reader, and the soft click of the locking mechanism signified the final nail being hammered into your coffin. You were fucked.

Before you could gain your bearings you were shoved roughly into the wall with your arms pinned behind your back and a harsh mouth pressed to your ear.

“Bet you’re real proud of yourself, aren’t ya?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you wobbled on your heels.

“You’re the one who started all of this with that slutty harlot downstairs.” Your sane mind would’ve admonished you for using such degrading language towards a woman, but your morals had been cast aside the moment he’d stepped out in that delicious cream suit—effortlessly sexy as always.

His low chuckle carried the rumblings of an approaching storm that rippled down your spine. “All I did was sit there and mind my drink. I can’t help it if a random woman has some kind of agenda.”

“Come on Zoro, you’re not dumb. You know what her agenda was, and you could’ve shut that shit down, but you didn’t.”

He loosened his grip on your arms when he felt your muscles strain but then re-tightened it when he remembered you mushing his face earlier.

“Why should I have shut her down,” he asked smugly. He obviously was living for your embarrassment.

“Because she’s not even someone you’d be interested in fucking.” He quirked a brow in surprise.

“Oh, she’s not?”

You chose not to speak and he pressed himself into your backside—the imprint of his arousal nestling between your cheeks.

“And who’s someone I’d be interested in fucking then?”

You had no witty reply as he pulled your long skirt up your thighs, so slowly you could almost feel every satiny fiber rub over your skin. He bunched it around your waist and gave your ass a squeeze.

“You played too close to fire the sweetheart. Now I’m gonna fuckin ruin ya.”

With a swiftness even you weren’t prepared for, he ripped off your lacy underwear and tossed it aside where it lay in tatters on the marble floor. He turned you around and shoved a thigh between your legs to prevent your escape. Not that you ever would.

“You chose the right guy to piss me off you know, knowing full well he wasn’t gonna rough you up the way you want.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I was just having an innocent conversation.”

“Don’t play cute with me, you knew what you were doing.”

He forced your head back to leer at you through those stupid green-tinted sunglasses and you wanted to smack them off his face. Dick. How could he make something as tacky as wearing sunglasses indoors look sexy?

“Why have you been fucking with me Zoro?”

“Someone had to wake your ass up,” he murmured with a satisfied smirk.

You realized just how foolish you’d been—you were never the one who was in control. The man was an analytical genius, and you were always meant to be the prey. Your carefully curated web of petty games paled ten times over in comparison to anything he could construct.

“Okay. Since you’re the one that’s clearly in charge here, whatever am I to do?”

He rolled his eyes. “Quit the blushing good girl act and get your ass on the bed.”

“Couldn’t I at least get a kiss first,” you pouted and fluttered your lashes. You knew he hated when you pretended to act sweet and demure.

“No. Clearly you don’t deserve it yet.”

You must have taken too long for his liking for he took matters—and you—into his own hands by hoisting you up and throwing you over his shoulder. The weight of your body had hardly ever been an issue for him—what was an issue was your smart ass mouth.

“I’m surprised you could even find where the bed is.”

Your suite was fairly large so realistically it could take more than a few steps to actually reach it, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood for your diatribes. With a scoff, he roughly deposited you onto the luxurious bedding.

“The worst thing I can do right now is leave you here unfulfilled and unsatisfied, so maybe you should keep your mouth shut.”

You buttoned your lip and began unbuckling your shoes, and his eyes softened as he watched you wince while wiggling your toes.

“Dunno why you even bother with those things anyway, you know you can’t stand on them for more than an hour.”

“It goes with the outfit,” you sighed, tossing them aside.

“It’s a shame you’re not gonna get anymore wear outta that outfit.”

You leaned back on your elbows and watched him pull off his suit jacket and unzip the jumpsuit underneath down to his waist, though he didn’t remove any more than that.

He grasped your ankle to pull you back to the edge of the bed and tore your skirt apart at the slit as if it were rice paper. In the blink of an eye you were left bare and splayed before him like a feast waiting to be devoured. And oh how ravenously he would devour you—gnashing his teeth as he pulled you apart, and leaving nothing but the entrails of your bleeding heart behind. And then he’d sink his teeth into that too.

With his length completely exposed he flipped you over and propped you up on your elbows. His hand pushed your head down into the mattress, and he slapped your ass a few times, smiling to himself as you yelped from each impact. You felt him bite into the meaty flesh of your ass before following it with another harsh smack, and you hoped a reddened imprint of his teeth and hand would remain on your skin as a dirty reminder.

“I know you can do better than that. Spread your legs and arch your back more.”

Annoying as always, he demanded more while giving you virtually nothing. Your first instinct was to display disobedience, but his threat of leaving you high and dry made you compliant.

“Please Zoro, I’ve waited so long.”

You heard a clattering behind you that you assumed was his sunglasses being tossed aside. His rough fingers slid up and down your opening, and you whined when he refused to probe any deeper. You wiggled your hips in a wordless command.

“You’re such a needy girl, aren’t ya? Where’d all that fake innocence go?”

His fingers continued to tease you while he taunted, and your annoyance gave way to desperation.

“Zoro please. I’m begging you, please.”

A harsh smack on your pussy made your knees buckle.

“The begging’s nice, but I’m still waiting to hear an apology.”

You’d do anything but that. He was the one who started all of this.

“No?” He sighed in exasperation. “Alright then. Guess I’ll just leave you here to take care of yourself.”

“No wait!”

His hands crawled up your spine to grip your shoulder and the back of your neck, and he leaned over to tickle your ear with his lips.

“You want my dick that badly?”

Your tears wetted the sheets as they spilled from your eyes.

“I do, I want it so bad. So fucking bad. ’m sorry for being a brat.”

“Yeah?” His voice was strained. Clearly he was also holding himself back from giving in until you’d truly earned it. After a final swipe of his fingers along your slick folds he tapped your ass with his cock a few times before positioning himself.

“There it is. Keep begging for it.”

He gifted you with his tip, but your euphoria was short lived when he refused to fill you any further. You needed to feel every pulse that beat along the veiny underside of his length. As he stretched your walls torturously slow, your relieved whines were muffled by the silken sheets. The wait had been torturously long.

He slid his cock between your lower lips and the lubricant of his precum mixed with the wetness leaking from your pussy. One of his hands grasped your wrist to twist it behind your back and he repositioned himself once again at your entrance.

“Even though you don’t deserve it, I’m gonna fuck this needy pussy anyway.”

You gasped and sighed thankful whimpers as he pressed forward and stuffed you with a burning stretch. You’d have to adjust to his girth—every single part of his body was impossibly thick and wide. Calloused fingers tripped over your clit in an attempt to loosen your muscles, and before you knew it the two of you were fully connected.

His fingers crawled into your scalp and hooked around your tresses to tug your back, and you clenched walls and you unhinged your jaw with a deep moan. Finally, for the first time tonight, your desires were being fulfilled.

His hips snapped against your ass and all you could do was lay there and take it. The stillness of the room was rattled by the harsh slaps of your skin connecting and your rhythmic whiny moans. He was quiet, save for a couple of low grunts as he held you in place to mercilessly slam into your sex. He seemed disconnected—using you as his own personal toy to get himself off, so you were then taken by surprise when his gravelly voice finally acknowledged you.

“This what you needed to get you to behave? You’re something else. You know this is only meant for me, right? This is all mine, understand?”

He pulled your head further back and cupped your jaw, and you could see his eyes glow red from your peripheral.

“Yes. I understand.”

“You understand what,” he demanded as he smushed your cheeks together.

“My pussy is yours. I’m all yours. Only yours.”

You felt his cock throb inside you and he cursed under his breath. His groans rose in volume when your tongue slid and curled between the two fingers he’d stuffed inside your mouth, and he pressed them further down your throat to make you gag.

“Fuck, you’re so needy. Look at you tightening up around me.”

You heard him chuckle and he removed his fingers to caress and grope your curves—pinching your nipples and squeezing bruises into your skin. He never ceased his thrusts as his hand slid between your legs to circle your puffy clit. Jolts of pleasure electrified your nerves as he defiled you—hammering away until your foundation crumbled to dust.

He finally let go of your hair to hike his knee up on the bed and your body flopped bonelessly onto the mattress. The bed frame knocked noisily against the wall from the merciless onslaught, and you mourned the definite loss of your security deposit.

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder to draw out more of those precious sounds he loved so much while his tongue licked to soothe the raw skin. You could hear the faint tinkling of his earrings clinking together when he nuzzled the crook of your neck.

“Stop being so quiet. Use that big mouth of yours and let me hear you.”

You gulped, filling your lungs with muggy bits of air.

“I don’t…want anyone to hear.”

His movements stilled.

“Yes you do.”

The air in your lungs was trapped as you held your breath.

“Why would you stop?”

“Because I know you’re lying.”

His cock twitched and he relinquished some of his practiced control by sensually grinding his hips, achingly slow. A totally different rhythm from what he’d started with.

“I know you wish that waitress could see us now.” His voice had dipped to an intimate murmur as he stroked your walls. You could hear the crude sounds of how slick and slippery you were at the base of your connection—he’d reached so deep that he prodded your delicate center.

“You want her to see who all of this belongs to. That I’m all yours.”

You whimpered with every rough slam of his hips, and he picked your head up to crush your lips together. His tongue invaded your mouth and you gripped the sheets as trails of saliva trickled down your chin.

He ceased his invasive overtaking of your mouth to lick up the wetness dribbling down your jaw.

“Open your mouth.”

His voice was a puppeteer that held the strings to control your body. You opened your mouth in a stupor and stuck out your tongue, and he chuckled at your immediate compliance before spitting the remnants of your saliva back into your mouth.

“Hold it there and keep your tongue out.”

You dared not disobey. He kept your head in place to examine your face and you rubbed your ass against him in an attempt to get him to fuck you harder. He smirked and finally let go of your jaw.

“Swallow.”

Immediately you closed your mouth and gulped, savoring your tastes mixing together. He continued grinding against your ass until he pressed you back down into the mattress to resume his rough thrusts. You went to bring your fingers to your clit to help yourself along but he yanked your hand away and pinned it back onto the bed.

“Nuh uh,” he tutted, “you don’t get to finish. Be good and lay there.”

You whined and begged him to let you cum but he smiled wickedly and selfishly chased his own high. Even if you weren’t permitted to touch yourself, his cock still reached the deepest depths of your insides—kissing that fleshy patch of bliss which left your body immobile. His grunts became faster as his balls slapped against your ass, and the squeaks of the weakened bed frame synchronized with his frantic thrusts. You chanted his name and arched your back as he gripped your waist to pound you into the mattress.

He fucked you in a frenzy—biting incoherent curses into your skin. And with one last slam into your abused pussy his body seized and he groaned as he released inside of you so fully that it spilled out to form a ring around the base of his cock. Your walls fluttered as you desperately rubbed your clit—still keeping your back arched to hold him in place as you rushed to follow. It only took a few firm circles around your bud before the muscles in your core tightened and your legs shook as electricity spread throughout your body to shock every one of your nerve endings. You let out a cry into the sheets and Zoro thrust lazily to help carry you along until you sighed weakly and relaxed.

He pulled out smoothly and the warmth of his cum slid down between your thighs and onto the floor. After straightening back up he turned you around and finally pressed his lips to yours. You hummed and wrapped your arms around his neck, and his hands came down to squeeze your ass a few times before giving it a smack.

“That’s my girl,” he smirked as he laid you back down onto the bed and laid next to you.

“That was so mean,” you giggled as you rested your head on his chest and dragged your fingers over his pec.

“You deserved it. Acting like such a brat, as if it wasn’t obvious that I’m already yours. And you’re mine.”

Your body buzzed from his words and you cupped his cheek to kiss his jaw.

“Yeah, I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

[slu7formen]

hey bby! I wanted to request cedric x slytherin!reader. she is known as an ice princess, very elegant and intelligent but has no friends. she falls for THE cedric but has no hopes to even be with him. how would their story end? it would bring me so much closure 💕 thank you so much in advance

hi sweetie! thanks for requesting 🥹 and i love this story! hope you enjoy 🫶🏻 also, sorry for the wait.

melting heart | cedric diggory x f.r

cedric diggory x fem!reader

you were known for being an ice princess. being a slytherin, coming from a rich family, one of the smartest in your class; the whole package. but then you accidentally drank verisaterum, and the person you bumped with… had to be Cedric Diggory, the boy you liked for years.

warnings: language, the twins doing something illegal, emotional reader, little use of yn

reminder: english’s not my first language, so I apologize do any spelling mistakes.

slu7formen’s masterlist | cedric diggory’s masterlist

“Morning, (yln)”

“Malfoy”

Of course, he didn’t say anything as you walked out of the Slytherin common room on your way to have breakfast. but you felt his blue eyed intense stare in your back. Unfortunately, you lived in a world where even Draco Malfoy thought that hanging out with you was… not good, but since his parents knew yours, saying hi to you was the least thing he had to do, mainly because it was his parents request.

You decided to go alone this morning. Well, you were always alone, but when you do have company, it’s your cat; Hara. She looked very pleased with her sleeping position, so bothering her was not an option.

You could say she was your only friend, the only one you had ever since your first year at Hogwarts and now, on your sixth year, everything was the same. Did you hate it? Not at all. You got used to being alone, even though you hated it at first.

Your family has a reputation, therefore, you do too. People say you’re an ice princess, they say that if looks could kill, many students would be dead by now and you’d easily be responsible for it. Despite your very low desire of having friends or even sharing your life with wizards and witches, they said many other things about you too that could have easily be something that describes the sweetest girl in the world.

The way you walk, as smooth as if you could float, small but decided and confident steps. Always smelling fresh, like just showered; whoever sat next to you could sense it so strong that some even said that your perfume is made with amortentia.

Besides, you were also your house Prefect.

Truth was, you were an easy center of attention, even when you didn’t want it. A Slytherin girl who’s family is rumored to be richer than the Malfoy’s, her best friend is her black cat, always wearing the most expensive jewelry, spending as much time in the library as possible to study and also someone who’s extremely intelligent that shows its passion for Defense Against the Dark Arts, being at the top of her class? How could you not be someone that people talked about?

You were a whole mystery. But they were too afraid to even try to discover you.

You didn’t know who even started to say that you were not someone good to be with, so you couldn’t understand anything at your first year and cried yourself to sleep every night because no one wanted to be around you. With time, it got better, maybe it’s better to be alone than being sorrunded by bad people, you thought, and it always made you feel better when your stone cold heart was about to melt when you felt too vulnerable.

But no one, definitely no one… makes you feel as vulnerable as Cedric Diggory.

Of course you knew who he was, who didn’t? He was a revolutionary insanely attractive guy that caught every girl’s attention even in his first year. For your first year in Valentine’s day, he received at least twelve letters and a massive box of chocolates gifted by an anonymous girl at your grade, and he didn’t hesitate on sharing it with his friends. On second grade, he gained even more popularity after becoming a part of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and by fifth grade already, many girls were desperate to ask him on a date and fantasize about what being their girlfriend was like.

You couldn’t deny that you were one of those girls… not the girlfriend part, but the one that could easily fall for him if your heart gave the chance.

You liked him in first grade, secretly, but as the months went by, the colder you became, the more you avoided him, and the more you forgot about his existence, just being another person you know that would not be relevant in your life.

At least, not until he bumped into you just when the year started, three months ago.

You were walking with your hands full of books, almost covering your view as you tried to find your way to your dorm again. Hara was next to you, as always, and you secretly wished she was a human the whole time so she could transform back into her original shape and carry some books for you.

That didn’t happen.

What did happen, is that you gasped as your books bumped into someone’s body; for the second time. The first one ran away when she offered to help you and you yelled at her to leave you alone, because you were too angry to even let her help you.

But how could you yell at his face?

“Oh, Merlin” he had said before quickly getting on one knee, and his big hands already started to pick up three books. You just stood there… silent. “I’m so sorry, I was coming around the corner and-…”

Your tired and big sigh interrupted his words. “It’s fine.” your voice said as you got on both of your knees as you fixed a piece of tour hair behind your ear. “It’s the second time today.”

“I’m sorry” he said again, much sadder this time, and you noticed. You thought you maybe were too hard on your words, or your tone, or the way your face was clenched, but why would you care? Weren’t you always like that?

You didn’t answer though, just silently picking up your heavy and boring looking books from the floor.

Cedric had looked up at you twice while picking up the books. He recognized you from the hallways and his classes, but didn’t find the need to introduce himself; he thought you wouldn’t care a bit. Of course, he had to think just the same way as everyone else.

You secretly wished he didn’t, but you also thought that this was going to be the only time that you saw him and actually talked.

“Are you going to your dorm?”

You frowned your eyebrows at him as you lifted your head. His brown were hidden behind some hair that fell on his forehead as his lips were parted, waiting for your answer. You nodded your head, suddenly remembering that you were actually talking to him, not staring at a fucking statue. You slapped yourself internally, feeling stupid.

“Yeah” your answer was short.

“Let me help you then, it’s the least I can do”

God, could he be more perfect?

But your hard ass had to complain.

“No, it’s okay. I know my way”

You heard his laugh when you picked up the last book from the floor.

“I know you do, but I want to help you. They’re too heavy for you”

You sighed loudly again, and with an annoyed expression on your hardly visible face, you said; “Look, I don’t need help, okay? Just-…” you stopped when you looked to your left. Hara was always there, but not this time. “Where’s Hara?” the fear in your voice alerted Cedric’s ears.

“Who’s Hara?”

“My cat!” you almost yelled, letting your books fall again as you quickly got up, already disappearing into the corner in which the brunette guy came from. “Hara?”

He was quick to follow behind you. “It’s a black cat, right?”

“What?” you asked, turning your head as you found him standing next to your body, looking down at you. “No! I’m not letting you help me find my cat”

“Well, too bad” he muttered before walking past you and brushing your shoulder. You scoffed, surprised with wide eyes as you heard how he called your cat’s name and made those same little noises that everyone does when they are trying to find a cat.

He did not fall for your complaining. Why did you like it so much?

“Ugh!” you shouted towards the ceiling while letting your arms rise up and then fall heavily to your sides. “Hara!” you screamed, knowing damn well that that would not make her come to you again, but being the only thing that came out of your mouth.

You could still hear Cedric’s voice as you silently looked for Hara in the cold hallways, books long forgotten, probably getting stepped on by many students.

For what felt like ten minutes, you were already convinced that Cedric was long gone and had stopped looking for your cat. Your thought got you relaxed, but also worried, were you too harsh on him? Too rude? You didn’t want to be rude with him, or with anyone but it was just what came out of you.

Cedric didn’t run away though. No, he stayed, he insisted. He had to be one of the few if not the only person that ever did that to you, at least for the past three years…

“yn!”

And then he called your name.

A single name falling from his rosy and pumped lips, letting it fall like thick and sweet honey that tasted as magnificent as the sweetest chocolate or cherry. You liked how it sounded, coming from him.

You turned your back, and he almost smiled when he noticed what he had in his arms, and the way your eyebrows instantly came back to their original not-worried expression.

Hara seemed a little too comfortable in his arms as she looked around nervously, as if she saw something she shouldn’t, or got scared by something. He stopped in front of you and gave you your pet in your arms, slightly letting his hands brush yours, but quickly letting go. The feeling was too good to be that short.

“Where were you?” you asked staring into her yellow eyes, as if she could answer. “You scared the living hell out of me, sweetie”

“Sweetie?”

Shit, he was still there.

You just gave him a quick look before kissing Hara’s head and placing her down to the ground again, pointing her with your finger to stay there, she meowed.

“Uh… thank you” you said, probably for the first time in months, and quickly feeling your throat go dry. He smiled, proud of himself because of course, he knew you never acted like this, in fact, it was like a totally different person in front of him.

He noticed the way your cheeks went slightly pink when he caught your baby-acting way of talking to Hara, he found it cute.

Cedric didn’t believe many of the things he heard about you over the years, like, you study so much in the library because you secretly read black magic in the forbidden section, or that you were so mean on your third grade that you made three girls cry the first day, when in fact, he knew it was another person. He almost hated the way people decided to treat you one day and never notice your existence again when it came to friendship.

You were popular, but still, one of the most feared persons. Did that make sense?

“Anytime” he replied, and you held your breath when he got closer to you, still looking at you, but quickly getting on his knees again to give your cat some little pats on her head and stomach when she just laid there, asking for more of his —probably— soft and comforting touch.

Traitor. You thought, looking at Hara.

“She’s so cute” you heard him laugh when your cat gave him the purest glassy eyes ever, enjoying his presence while you stood there awkwardly, just wanting to leave. “I think she loves me”

Once again, you didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent again, playing with the edges of your robe.

He got up again, still standing too close to you. “You’re still letting me carry those books, right?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, it’s the-…”

“Oh, I know” you interrupted, lifting your palm as your lips clenched in disgust, but way too funny to not make him smile for the last time. “It’s the least you can do” you imitated and exaggerated manly voice.

He walked with you the whole way… and you hated the fact that you let him. If your arms weren’t feeling heavy with books, the ones that Cedric made you grab because they were the lightest, you would’ve crossed your arms over your chest all the way, but since you couldn’t do it, you decided to give him a silent treatment.

He kept eyeing you the whole way, that annoying expression on your face that really made him question to himself if he should even try to talk to you again.

It was not towards him though, but to yourself; how you hated yourself for acting so different all of a sudden, so… small. But this wasn’t your fault, was it? I mean, if he didn’t show up, none of this would’ve have happened, so he was the one to blame, wasn’t he?

Right?

You questioned yourself that same thing over and over again for the following week.

It was like he invaded your mind, everytime you looked at him, you heard him talk in class, or walked past him down the hallway. It was like you were always trying to see him too, it was pathetic.

Fucking pathetic. He only helped you find your cat, for God’s sake, why was that so important to you?

Maybe because no one ever helped you before, or the way he walked so tentatively towards you anytime he walked, or how good he looked with your own cat in his arms… so cute, so handsome.

Sometimes he was there when you tried to sleep too, inside your head. What was happening to you? Why were you desperately trying to keep him out of your mind all of a sudden? Why did you feel your heart skip a beat whenever he talked? Why did you happened to be thinking about his face so much? Why wouldn’t he let you sleep?

Was this what your talked about? She mentioned something about liking boys at a certain age, but every boy you ever knew ran away from you, so, was Cedric this boy now?

You certainly didn’t know what was it about him that caught your attention so suddenly, but stopping was not an option. After all, it made you feel good.

The more days that passed, the more confused you felt, and people started to notice. They saw how you were muy quieter now in class, how you barely raised your hand or how you just seemed… lost. Was something wrong with you? Probably, because you didn’t even eat your breakfast this morning. You just sat there, playing with your scrambled eggs and toasts, not even hungry enough to eat what you served.

There was some mumbling that came from behind you, the Gryffindor table, but didn’t even bother to look back at them, as you always do, so they would either lower their volume, or shut up. Instead, you took the cup in which you had some pumpkin juice, and drank it all.

And then, the mumbling stopped.

The whole Gryffindor group went silent, and that’s when you turned around, almost asking them to speak again… they were all staring at you.

Fred and George were mouth opened and all big eyes looking directly at you, as if something really bad just happened. His friends were whispering into each other’s ears, and you finally spoke.

“What?”

Silence.

“What are you staring at?”

“Um-…” one of the twins spoke first, but you found tell which one was it. Then he lifted his finger, and pointed to the golden cup on your left hand. “Was that your juice?”

You frowned your eyebrows, looked at the cup, and then back at them. “Yes” you replied “Why so interested?”

Silence was dominant again, as the twins exchanged a scared look and then looked back at you again. Your ears were starting to get red, nobody was telling you anything so they were either messing with you, or something bad had happened. You chose to believe the first one… but saying what you were actually thinking was not part of the plan.

“Alright, stupid looking faces, what the fuck is going on?”

The expression on their faces changed, surprised about hearing what you just said… you never insulted anyone. In fact, people thought that you were the kind of person to insult in their mind, but trying to be as cold as ever on the outside, that’s why everyone called you ice hearted or ice princess, you never actually said what you thought… you just tried to be as calm and as cold as always.

But you just insulted a group of teenagers, and that never happened before. No matter how mad you were, you always tried not to insult. People did it to you and it felt horrible, so why do it to someone else?

You gasped lowly while covering your mouth. “Fohmygad” you muttered against your palm. “Oh my God, I’m-… I didn’t want to”

“We know” the other twin had said. “You just drank veritaserum”

And your whole face transformed.

“What… did you just say?” Your voice tone was scary, just like a threat.

“It was not for you!” you recognized the girl that just spoke to you, Angelina. You sat with her a few times in class, but she was quick to run away from you as soon as class finished. “I told you you shouldn’t have done that! All the cups look the same” she hit one of the twins on the side of their head. He whined.

“How was it supposed to know she was going to grab Malfoy’s cup?”

You quickly stood up and placed the cup on the table, right next to, in fact, Malfoy’s breakfast. It was not too far away from you, and you had poured yourself the same drink, but Draco left for a second before you drank the wrong juice.

Fred and George kept talking at the same time towards you, fear in their voices and getting smaller and smaller almost hiding under the table. You ignored them as much as you could so nothing else could come out of your mouth, and with half your face covered, you walked away from the Great Hall.

But of course, not before bumping into another person again.

“Woah” Cedric said as he grabbed your shoulders. He laughed when he noticed it was you “We keep bumping into each other, huh?”

“Don’t talk to me” you bit while shaking your body off of his grabbing, and bit your tongue again as the gigantic door kept getting closer and closer, but it didn’t make you feel any better.

You didn’t look back as you walked as fast as you could towards the bathroom on the fifth floor, the Prefect’s bathroom, after all, you were one. It was a safe place, since no one was ever there at that time in the morning and not everyone could come in. You just wished that Myrtle was not there, she could be a bit annoying sometimes.

After letting your way in, you ran to wash your face with the coldest water that your skin could handle. Your skin was on fire, just like the rest of your body and maybe, just maybe, your brain. You have definitely gained a new enemy.

Verisaterum? Really?

Malfoy could be a pain in the ass but, out of all the potions in the wizarding world, the Weasley twins had to choose the hardest one to make, with no taste, no color, but most importantly, illegal to any use outside the Minister?

Merlin’s fucking beard, you needed a break.

“yn?”

You scoffed when a male voice called your name. “It’s occupied, genius” you answered with your back still turned to where the voice was coming.

The footsteps were coming closer and closer, and you were not in the mood to deal with any Weasley shit, you thought.

“Pretrificus Totalus!” you screamed while turning around, your hand already grabbing your wand and throwing it towards whoever it was the Weasley that followed you.

“Hey!” the male voice, not Weasley, screamed as he hid behind a wall, your spell crushing into the cold surface. “What do you think you’re doing?” Cedric showed himself, confusion on his face as he slowly decided to walk again.

“Cedric.” you called, putting your wand away. It was the first time you called his name. “I thought you were one of the twins”

“I can tell… are you okay?”

Yes.

“No”, you replied. You groaned lowly when the truth came out of your lips. In times like this, you really wished these kind of potions didn’t exist, it was hard to hold back their enchantment. “I just drank the most stupid potion that the Weasley twins could think of to piss off Malfoy”

He placed his hands inside the front pockets of his pants as he laughed. “Verisaterum?”

“How’d you know?”

He clicked his tongue, making his way towards you again. “They joke about it too much” he leaned his back against the sink you were gripping tightly with your hands.

You took a deep breath and stayed silent for a moment, analyzing your reflection as you asked, “How long does it last?”

“Depends on how successful it is. It can go away between one hour and six”

“Six hours!?” you yelled to his face, then scoffed while letting an annoyed smile draw on your face. “For the love of….”

“We can always ask Snape for the antidote… but that would mean you tell him about the twins’s action and that was illegal”

You bit your tongue as your feet bobbed up and down, snapping your toes onto the shiny floor again and again as your breathing was a clear sign of how bad you were feeling.

“Forget it. I’ll just wait”

Your knees bended as you sat on the floor, right next to Cedric’s legs, and letting your head fall against the cold pipe under the sink.

“You’ll wait up until six hours before you speak again?” his voice could perfectly fit with another type of quiestion… ‘are you crazy?’ would be the perfect one.

But you just nodded, not even looking at his perfect face. “It’s not like I have someone to talk to, anyways”

Ouch.

Cedric bit the inside of his cheek as he looked down at you, feeling bad for you and how vulnerable were feeling, but being smart enough to keep that thought to himself.

“Or… you can talk to me”

You clicked your tongue and laughed coldly. “Yeah, right”

“Really” he insisted as you saw his figure squat next to yours, finally dropping his whole weight to the floor, imitating your posture. “By this time you should already know I’m not someone who falls for your complains, right?”

“You’re right” you replied as you played with your fingers nervously. “That’s good”

Shit, shut up already.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I like it… oh my god” you covered your face “I was not supposed to say that”

Cedric laughed again.

“You like my company?”

No, no, no, no.

“Yes” you whined “Please stop asking me questions!”

He let out a louder laugh this time. “Why? It’s fun”

“Yeah, you drink verisaterum and we’ll see if it’s funny, smart boy”

“Sorry”

He stayed silent after that, and so did you. Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as you kept wishing that this potion was so poorly made that it only lasted one hour, but the effect didn’t seem to go away any sooner.

You could feel it because that’s just how your mind felt too. Suddenly the thought of not saying the truth to any question was not an option in your mind. Did you even know what a lie was? God, you felt so weak that you hated yourself. Why couldn’t you be like those wizards you read about? The ones that can resist it?

Your whole reputation and personality would’ve stayed intact if you could.

But right now, sitting right next to Cedric Diggory, asking you questions, and with red cheeks… that just ruined the whole image that people thought you had.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” he suddenly stammered and it made you jump slightly. He had leaned closer to your ear, as if sitting next to him was not enough to hear him.

“I do” you answered before laughing to yourself “That was the only answer that did not feel forced to come out”

Cedric laughed too, and he took his time before deciding what to ask you, trying to find the correct words to say to not make you mad, or walk away and leave.

“Is it… are you really how people say you are? I mean, I see that you can be as cold as you want but, is that who you are?”

Your eyes made him nervous. After his lips closed, your face just inches away from his, you just stayed there staring at him. You bit your own lip as you kept looking at his grey eyes, trying to find any sign that showed you that he really didn’t care about it, or that the wrinkles on his skin would show up like anytime he laugh, another sign that he was just messing with you, and he really couldn’t care in the slightest about you. But he didn’t move.

So you sighed. “No”

Cedric nodded, more than satisfied with that answer. He was right.

But you had a lot to say, even though he didn’t ask you that much.

“I guess I became what people started to say I was, or what I started to hear about myself. I wasn’t always cold, or I wasn’t always pushing people away from me. Actually, I was the one trying to have lots of friends and be myself with many people but they just… I don’t know, they felt threatened, so… let’s just say I got mad with my own life and decided to not let myself feel vulnerable again, because I don’t deserve it”

Another big gap of silence… and your eyes slowly got filled with tears.

“I’m not who everyone says I am. Ice princess, the hell” you laughed “I mean, sorry I’m not a sweetheart to everyone that gave me nicknames! They expected me to be like this so, here they go”

You sniffed while your nose got red and puffy. Not a single tear was dropped but you still looked so heartbroken that it made the boy next to you almost cry too. You didn’t even complain about the potion this time, because you finally had thrown again that massive rock that just kept hurting your chest over and over again.

“There was only one person that treated me nicely in the last three years”

He frowned his eyebrows. “Who?”

“You”

You had turned your head towards him again, with a small smile on your lips. He knew it was going to be hard for you to thank him, but the shiny look in your eyes was just enough for him to realize. “Really?” he asked.

You nodded, still smiling. “Yes, it’s like a bonus point”

“Bonus point?”

“Because I like you”

Fuck… fuck!

“I-…”

“Wha-…” you both started taking at the same time.

It was like a fucking movie. Both of you frozen in time, staring at each other’s faces as you tried to say the correct words, but nothing came to mind.

Cedric could feel his heart pounding in his ears, while you wanted to crash your head to the nearest wall.

“You…” he started, but didn’t finish, at least not what he initially wanted to say. “Are you for real?”

“No, Diggory, I just fucking lied to your face, can you believe it?… Of course I’m for real, dingus!” you yelled.

Cedric bit his lip as he turned his head to the opposite side, trying to bite back his laugh. “Okay, I get it, it was a dumb question”

But then he laughed. God, his laugh, his perfect little giggle. It made you smile.

“I kinda like you too”

Your neck snapped so hard towards his direction that you thought that maybe, you just died.

Your lips kept opening and closing everytime you tried to say something. For some reason, none of this seemed like a joke to you, almost as if the potion’s effect had affected Cedric too. Something about this felt real, maybe it was because you openly talked about your feeling with him. He knew you weren’t bad, he always knew, he just wanted you to confirm it.

Maybe drinking verisaterum wasn’t as bad as you thought.

Your heart pounded heavily in your chest when he fixed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and the lightest yet burning touch of his fingers against your jawline made your breath hitch once again. He smirked again, as he always does, “You’re really beautiful” he cooed, as his hot breath hit your cheekbone and left behind a sweet feeling that you never wanted to get rid of.

He then got up, as swiftly as a leaf would do, and extended his hand to you.

“What?” you debated.

“Let’s go for a walk. I feel like I have to ask you a few more questions before I decided which place I’m taking you to this weekend”

[anchorandrope]

Hi I'm Brazilian and I saw your post about us joining and thank you 🫶🏻 I joined yesterday and I'm really lost. Could you recommend me blogs? hld exists here? Are any other updates accounts? other Brazilian larries or whatever, please I need people to follow I'm desperate 😭

hi bby!! welcome to this multiverse of madness, you will be gay here.

UAs: hldailyupdate, dailytomlinson, stylesnews - stylesarchive, hlupdate are inactive now, check them for archive purposes!

Fashion archives: fashionlouist - harryfashionarchive and louisfashionarchive are inactive now as well

Fics: this answer contains a lot

For creators: hljournal, hlcreators, hltracks

Pics & edits: tomlinsonedits, styles-edits - ltpics and hspics are also inactive rn

Gifs: stylinsongifs, lwt-gifs, hes-gifs, also inactive rn - but here are some fan blogs that make amazing gifs (remember to support their work by reblogging and not only liking! likes don't help to boost content here):

@2tiedships2 melanie is historically our gif maker, she has been doing lords work for a damn long time here, i think we all collectively thank her for her service 🫡

@bilouistomlinson logan changes his url a lot but his our purple buddy here so you will always recognise them by their icon 💜 he absolutely adores louis so if you wanna stand by your screen seeing gifs of louis being hot: their blog is a must on your list!

@delicatepointofview ingrid makes gifs with incredible quality, i sometimes find out louis appeared because i see one of her gif set before an UA, really. we appreciate the hard work 🩷

@miss-styles i think lei is not currently making gifs but her work is awesome and if you like harry you can spend ours on her tag 🕺🏻

@creulsummer lorna has plenty of gifs of different stuff, i adore her fall vibes 🍂 her aesthetic is always pleasant to see

okay now, (more) blog recommendations!! even though i may not talk to everyone here, i do love seeing them on my dash so here is a list of larries on my phone: @thechavier @robinniko @kiwikiwiandkiwi @quickpauseinconversations @larryisinlove @28cum @louisarmpits @zouisexo @wdbhgdotmp3 @louisgrayhairs @tommos @louispalooza @daisiesonafield-blog @skepticalarrie @killmymind @nunchailou @braverytattoos @thebirdtatts @handgf @fishandfrog @whatifai @itsnotreal @ishipmutualrespect @stylinsuns @harrylouis @whenyouvequitefinished @sunkissedlouis @farawaytattoo @hs1 @allmylouv @yourgoldenview @thewhitecitrus @bluewinnerangel - im sure im forgetting a lot of people, so in advance im extremely sorry my beloved moots. also feel free to tag your fave blogs in the comments or rb and i'll rb again so new accs can follow them <3

we are all kinda messy and gay, we also tend to vote for "nuanced answer/im bald/secret third option" in every poll so if you don't like that maybe consider moving to threads. its like twitter (instagram's version). the app looks like a social experiment and if the news are late to twitter, i can't imagine how late they are there so good luck

also, i cannot end this blog rec with our bestie <3 shout out to lthqofficial who made a blog here, checked us out for 3 days and left. they were like: nope! bye!! 👋🏻

anyway hope this has helped ❤️‍🩹

[seung-scrittore]

what it’s like dating FELIX !

📻 … hel- … can anyone … kkchh .. WC: 295 … GN! READER … GENRE: fluff … WARNINGS: none — just tooth rotting fluff … -over … kchhh ..

the two of you are huge on pda, but nose kisses are a personal favorite for felix 🫶 they make him feel so loved and cared for, pepper his face with kisses honestly

when you come home from a long day, a back rub from lix cures everything !! he’ll sit you down and work away the tension in your shoulders while you vent about your day to him

PLEASE bake with him 🙏 it’s one of his favorite things to do and i just know he’d love it all the more if he shared that with you ! i’m sorry in advance if you end up having flour all over your kitchen…

begs you to play video games with him… he calls it a team building exercise, but really it’s his excuse to show off the skills that hours of gameplay have given him

as mentioned, he’s huge on pda!! which means he’s also big on taking you out on dates, one of your personal favorites being picnics 🤍🧺 he has a special blanket specifically reserved for picnics with you

100% brings you breakfast in bed, it doesn’t necessarily have to be any special occasion. you just deserve it, felix wants you to know that

consider leaving a like and reblog ? ^^

… is anyon- … kkkch .. TAGGING: @liumoonlight , @sunoo-bby , @tbzloonar , @noramoons , @hangyeomcult , @septabuspass , @kflixnet , @kwritersworld , @k-labels @straykidsland-main , @kdiarynet … pleas- … -you copy? … kchhh …. 📻

[wolfiihoney]

First encounter with Toji. Part 1

Wc:1700

Pairing: Toji x Y/n

Unedited srry bbys

It was a beautiful and warm spring day, and you were more than grateful to simply sit lazily on your porch swing, sipping on your sweetened iced tea. You observed a group of happy children playing and giggling loudly across the street, their joyful innocence bringing a smile to your face.

As you were immersed in your thoughts, you noticed a little dark-haired boy quickly darting across the street, heading in your direction.

You immediately sprang into action, sprinting towards the boy with an urgent sense of concern in your heart. "Hey! What are you doing?" You panted, out of breath from the sudden exertion, scooping him up by his waist and hauling him back onto the sidewalk.
The boy seemed unbothered by your concern, his focus fixated on the ball he had thrown across the street.

"I didn't want to cross," he confessed, his voice filled with childlike innocence. "But I asked you from across the street to throw my ball back, and you were ignoring me."

The adorable boy nodded, appearing quite mature for his young age.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," you responded, mentally amused at the boy's phrasing. "I wasn't ignoring you on purpose. I was just lost in thought."
The boy picked up his ball and looked up at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
"My dad says it's important to always pay attention," he said with a serious tone that was somewhat comical given his youthful demeanor

“My dad also says you should always be aware of your surroundings," he replied matter-of-factly. "Because if you don't, you're setting yourself up."
You chuckled, amused by his grown-up demeanor. "Is your dad a spy or something?" you teased, holding his small hand as you walked back to his house.
"I don't know," Little Megumi answered with a shrug. "He doesn't tell me what he does." You were amazed at how mature and advanced he appeared for his age

“Mind telling me your name sweetie?” You said curious about the little boy.

“My name is Me-" he attempted to say, only to be abruptly interrupted by a deep, authoritative voice.
"Megumi! Where the hell did your little ass run off to now, huh?"
Toji's bellowing voice confirmed that you were indeed speaking to none other than the little smarty pants named Megumi.

Toji’s voice a firm tone when he called for Megumi.
You couldn’t help but find it endearing, silently musing, “So his name is Megumi... how cute.” You thought

You finally got to megumis front ward as You stood face to face with the tall, dark-haired man, feeling a tinge of shyness wash over you.
"Oh, hi!" you greeted him with a slightly flustered smile. "Megumi just came to get his ball from across the street."
Despite his striking good looks, you couldn't help but want to chastise him for not keeping a closer eye on his 8-year-old son. Toji scratched the back of his neck, a hint of embarrassment apparent on the man’s face, realizing his oversight.

“Megumi what did I say about leaving the yard huh? You gotta let me know when you’re trying to go off somewhere. You understand?” Toji said to a little Megumi.

Megumi didn't seem too concerned about Toji's lecture, as if he were already used to the mild scolding. You watched Toji parent with a sense of admiration, feeling your heart flutter as his handsome appearance and authoritative demeanor caused a crush to blossom within you.
As Toji turned his attention to you, you smiled brightly, reassuring him, "Now that you know I’m just across the street, I'll make sure to keep an eye on Megumi when he's out here playing." Toji's gaze lingered on you for a moment. Toji nodded in acknowledgment of your helpful offer. A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked you up and down, sizing you up.
"I appreciate that," he said huskily. "Seems like my little brat managed to cross the street and find himself a nice, helpful neighbor."
You felt your heart quicken under his gaze, the butterflies in your stomach swirling around in excitement

You tried to keep your cool but were undeniably flustered by the man’s directness.
"Oh, it's no problem," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but the redness in your cheeks betrayed your calm demeanor.
Toji took a step closer, his intense gaze never leaving yours. He looked you over once more, his smirk growing a little bolder.

The intimidating smirk once again appeared on Toji's handsome face as he looked you over, clearly impressed by what he saw. He ushered Megumi back into the house with a gentle nudge on the head, then stepped closer to you on the porch.
"Mm," he said, his voice deep and sultry. "I’m Toji.” He said his confidence was admirable.

“What's your name, doll?"
You attempted to sound confident and composed, despite the butterflies swirling in your stomach. "Y/n," you replied, feeling your heart flutter.

“Y/n…”, his voice dripping with a hint of desire. "Y/n," he repeated, drawing out the syllables, almost as if he were savoring the sound of it. "Pretty name. I like the sound of it, Y/n."
There was a subtle undertone to his words, a hint of the not-so-innocent thoughts that were no doubt swirling around in his head.

Toji's smirk softened as he studied you for a moment, considering his next move. "Y/n," he said again, his voice a low grumble that made your stomach flutter.
Then, he cleared his throat, looking down at you with an air of slight nonchalance. "Listen," he said, "how about you come in for dinner tonight? With me and Megumi."

You were shocked that you got invited to dinner just for walking Megumi across the street. if this were any other man you’d tell him to fuck off in the most polite way possible for your safety but you felt different about this and something in you- told you not to decline his offer.

“Well of course. I’d love to have dinner with you guys, thank you.” You said being led into the home with a big hand holding onto yours softly. Toji chuckled as he led you into the house, his big, firm hand holding yours softly. "That's good to hear," he said, his voice deep and sultry. "I thought you might say no, but I'm glad you accepted."
He looked down at you with a smirk, noticing the slight surprise on your face.
"You seem surprised," he said, his lips curling up in a smirk. "Most people would probably be hesitant to have dinner with a guy they barely know, especially one with a kid.

You smiled nervously, looking up at Toji's handsome face as he led you into the house. "Yeah, I guess you're right," you admitted. "I wouldn't accept an invitation like this from anyone else."
Toji chuckled, finding your honesty charming. "I'll take that as a compliment then," he said, his voice low and velvety. You found yourself feeling both flustered and strangely comfortable in his presence. You chuckled softly, feeling a mixture of flattery and confusion. "I guess it is a kind of compliment," you said with a small shrug.
The house was surprisingly cozy and homey, As you followed Toji through the house, your stomach growled softly as the mouthwatering scent of food grew stronger. "Your house is lovely," you said, taking in the cozy decor and family photos scattered throughout.
Toji chuckled, glancing down at you. "Yeah, Megumi likes to draw a lot," he said, gesturing to the numerous kid-drawn pictures on the walls filled with little kid drawings and pictures on the walls. As Toji led you further into the home, you couldn't stop thinking about the scent of the delicious smell coming from the kitchen. you followed Toji through the house and your stomach growled softly as the mouthwatering scent of food grew stronger.

—————- after dinner —————

The meal was absolutely delicious, and you found yourself enjoying the company of both Toji and Megumi. Despite the age gap, you found that Megumi was a charming and clever child who could hold his own in conversation. As the three of you finished eating and started cleaning up, Toji looked over at you with a smirk.
"So, Y/n, what do you say we have a little chat in the living room while go cleans himself up?" He said while Megumi jumped up from the table and went into his bedroom.

You looked up at him, both curious and a bit apprehensive. "What is it?" you asked, wondering what he could want to ask you.

Toji leaned against the countertop, his arms crossed over his broad chest and gave you a slow, lazy smirk.

"I was just wondering," he said, his voice still dangerously low, "if you'd be interested in going on a little errand with me tomorrow."

“Errand?” You said why was he asking you out to run errands?

Toji pushed off the counter and stepped closer to you, his gaze intense and unwavering. The air around you seemed to crackle with tension as he closed the distance between you.

"Actually," he said, his voice dropping even lower, "I was thinking it could be more than just an errand. Interested in going on a little date with me tomorrow?"

You were practically vibrating with anticipation now, every nerve in your body on high alert. Toji was so close that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, and the intensity of his gaze made your knees weak.

"I...uh...yeah," you managed to stammer out, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I'm down for it."

Toji's smirk widened, and he leaned in even closer, his lips almost brushing your ear.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low,

Toji pulled back slightly, his smirk still in place. He reached out and gave your chin a gentle, almost affectionate caress with his thumb.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon," he said, his voice firm but surprisingly gentle. "Be ready."

And with that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen to check on Megumi, leaving you flushed and breathless, your mind swirling with excitement and anticipation for the date tomorrow.

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Eight: Loyalty

Chapter WC: 11,915

Chapter Tags/Warnings: background character death, brief description of wounds/blood

A/N: This is a long one! I had to make up for all the Rex we were missing before. Please enjoy the angst (my fav) and my attempt at writing battle scenes (my agony).

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Felucia, 21 BBY

"This is disgusting," you mutter, wiping the sweat from your forehead. It's a fruitless endeavor, the humidity unbearable. You're soaked to the bone, the mud caking your boots, the insects swarming around your face. You slap away a large winged bug and grimace when your palm meets a slimy substance.

"It's not that bad," Rex replies, his helmet under his arm. His hair is damp, skin shining, but he doesn't seem bothered by the weather, and you can't help but be a bit jealous. "I've seen worse."

You glare at him and wipe your hand on your tunic, the ichor smearing across the fabric. You'd forgone your usual white robes, the outfit too impractical for a planet like this, and instead opted for a set of beige, lightweight clothing. It was simple, a pair of pants, a tunic, and a matching hooded cape draped overtop your chest plate, but it allowed for more freedom of movement despite the way the moisture in the air made the fabric cling to your skin.

"Says the man in the full-body armor," you retort, gesturing at him with a dirty hand. "How are you not dying right now?"

He shrugs, the smile on his face a touch smug. "Guess I'm just built different, sir."

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth lift into a smile. Despite the heat and the bugs and the general unpleasantness of Felucia, you've found yourself enjoying the company of the Captain. Rex is a capable soldier, and he's easy to work with, but it's his sense of humor and dry wit that have made the mission bearable. You've found yourself relying on his calm, collected demeanor and his quick thinking. He's a natural leader, and his men respect him, which makes your job a lot easier.

You trudge forward together at the front of the line, careful not to step into any of the large pools of standing water. The ground is squishy, the mud oozing beneath your boots, and you resist the urge to gag.

You're walking beside a stream, the water slow moving and murky. A few large, bulbous plants hang over the banks, the pods swaying slightly in the breeze, and the air smells earthy and sweet, a combination of rotting vegetation and fresh flowers. It would have been beautiful, had it not been for the stench of decay and the constant buzzing of insects. And the knowledge that, at any moment, something could pop out of the bushes and try to kill you, or worse, eat you.

"So, this is where the Separatists want to make their stand, huh?" you say, your voice low, and your eyes scanning the horizon. "They picked a real shitty spot."

Rex snorts, and the sound is loud and surprising. The sudden urge to laugh threatens to bubble up, and you bite your cheek, fighting to remain serious. You might be a little delirious, the heat and the humidity making it difficult to think straight, but Rex's reaction is too much.

A burst of laughter escapes your lips, and you cover your mouth, your shoulders shaking. Rex looks at you, his brow furrowed, but his expression is amused.

"They picked a good defensive position, sir," he corrects, the words a half-hearted reprimand. It loses its impact, however, as his own lips twitch upwards. "It's a tactical choice. This terrain makes it difficult to advance."

"You're right, I know," you manage between giggles, and you hold up a hand in apology. Your laughter tapers off, and you take a deep breath, wiping the tears from your eyes. "Sorry, it's the heat, I think."

Rex shakes his head, and his eyes twinkle. "I get it, sir. This place is...something else."

The two of you continue along the stream, and the troops fan out, keeping a safe distance behind you. You sigh and run a hand through your hair, pushing the sweat-soaked strands away from your face. It's been several days since you landed on Felucia, and you've been fighting the Separatists nonstop. The jungles are filled with traps and wildlife, and the enemy is well-equipped for the terrain. You've managed to secure a few key locations, but the fight is far from over.

Anakin and Obi-Wan have led the bulk of the assault, while you and Ahsoka have been assigned the task of clearing out the smaller outposts. You'd spent the morning in the thick of the battle, using the Force to aid the clones as they took out enemy droids. Now, you're on your way back to the rendezvous point, and the heat of the jungle is starting to get to you.

You feel as if you've been dipped in a vat of swamp water, and you can't shake the feeling of stickiness, the sensation both disgusting and unpleasant. You'd give your left arm for a cold shower, or at the very least, a fresh set of clothes.

You turn, and Rex is staring at you, a frown tugging at his lips. You must look a sight, the sweat pouring down your face, the mud splattered on your boots and trousers. It's far from your best, and you can't help but wonder what Rex is thinking, whether he finds you unappealing or repulsive.

The thought causes your stomach to twist, and you glance down, avoiding his gaze.

"We're almost there," Rex says, noticing the look on your face. He puts his helmet back on, the click echoing in the silence. "Just a little further."

"Thank the Force," you groan, and you can't stop the pout that forms on your face. "I'm beginning to think we should just let them have this stupid planet."

Rex chuckles, the sound distorted by the modulator, and he gestures at the trail ahead. "Just keep moving, sir."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," you mumble as you wipe more sweat from your eyes. "I'm going, I'm going."

The two of you move forward, your pace slow and measured. You're tired, the heat and the humidity sapping your strength, and the fatigue is beginning to catch up with you. You stumble, and Rex grabs your arm, his grip firm but gentle.

"Steady, sir," he murmurs, and he waits for you to regain your balance before releasing you.

You mumble an apology, and you take a deep breath, trying to shake off the tiredness, the ache in your muscles. You're not used to this, the physical exertion of war. The fighting is one thing, but the constant marching and camping and traveling are another. The heat, the humidity, and the lack of sleep are all taking their toll.

You've been running on adrenaline, and it's finally catching up with you.

"You're not looking so good, General," Kix says from behind you, his voice laced with concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

You try to hold back your long-suffering sigh, the urge to roll your eyes strong, but you manage to refrain and turn to face him, the effort almost too much. Kix helmet darts from you, to Rex, and back again, the worry evident in his posture.

As the medic, Kix's place was with the Captain, staying close to his side and monitoring the men. It was a responsibility he took seriously, and his care for his brothers was admirable. It made you trust him and respect him, but you were also incredibly sick of his constant vigilance. He had a tendency to hover, and you were starting to feel smothered. He reminded you a bit of a certain ginger-haired Jedi, and it was hard not to let it rankle you.

"I'm fine, Kix," you insist, trying to keep your temper in check. You give him a weak smile, the expression meant to be reassuring, but you know it's probably coming off more as a grimace.

"You've been sweating an awful lot," he observes, and his tone is suspicious, the words a bit accusatory. "You could be dehydrated."

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "It's a jungle, Kix. Everyone's sweating."

"You don't look like everyone, sir," he counters. His medical scanner is out before you can stop him, and he runs it over your body, the whirring noise grating. "You look flushed, and your pulse is elevated."

"Will you quit it," you hiss, slapping his hand away. You take a step back, putting some distance between the two of you as if it'll make your sudden irritation dissipate.

Kix stiffens at the rebuke, and his hand lowers to his side, the scanner still gripped tightly.

"I'm just trying to do my job, sir," he protests. "And right now, that job involves making sure you're okay."

"It's the adrenaline," you snap, and the words come out harsher than intended. You wince immediately, the guilt settling in. You'd been struggling with your temper, the anger simmering just beneath the surface, and you were doing your best not to take it out on the people around you, but sometimes, you slipped. "We need to keep moving, or else we'll be left behind."

"Kix is right," Rex interjects as he steps forward, his tone firm. "You look like you could use a break, sir."

"Captain," you warn, and you level him with a glare. "I am fine."

He folds his arms over his chest, and even though his face is hidden behind his helmet, you can tell by the way his body is angled towards you that he's not backing down.

You grit your teeth, the stubbornness setting in, and you square your shoulders, mirroring his posture. The two of you stand there for a moment, locked in a silent stare down, neither of you willing to budge. The rest of the troops continue marching past you, their bodies rigid and their footsteps heavy. They avoid looking at you, gazes focused straight ahead as if they can sense the tension between the two of you.

Rex is the first to speak, his voice quiet and measured. "You've been pushing yourself pretty hard, sir."

"You haven't seen me push myself," you scoff. "I'm only getting started."

"I'm just saying, maybe it wouldn't hurt to slow down."

"I'm not going to slow down," you argue. You plant your feet, the movement resolute, and the determination settles into your bones. You weren't about to let some hot-shot captain, no matter how handsome, or nice, or charming, tell you what to do, or how to act, or how to handle your own mission.

Rex, on the other hand, seems completely unperturbed by your show of defiance. His stance is relaxed, his shoulders loose, and he seems entirely unconcerned. He simply continues to stand there, arms crossed, and his helmet tilted ever-so-slightly to the side. It's an infuriating gesture, and you have to fight the urge to throw something at him, or, better yet, to push him into the stream.

You glare at him, and the silence stretches on, the seconds ticking by. With every step the  troopers marching on the path take, your resolve wavers. You can feel yourself start to wobble, the tiredness getting the best of you.

You can't deny that, maybe, perhaps, Rex has a point. You've been pushing yourself hard, the guilt and the shame fueling your desire to prove yourself, and it's starting to wear on you. Still, you can't seem to bring yourself to admit that he's right, and the thought of slowing down, of admitting defeat, is just too much.

So, instead, you just keep glaring.

Kix's voice, when he speaks, is cautious. "General, if I may..."

"What," you snap, not bothering to look away from Rex.

"You're clearly dehydrated, and you could be suffering from heat stroke. Maybe the Captain is right. Maybe we should—"

You turn your glare on Kix, and the words die in his throat, his helmet dipping, and he takes a step back. You open your mouth, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but your vision is struggling to catch up to the sharp movement of your head, black spots clouding your eyes, and the words don't come.

The ground shifts, and your balance falters. You sway on the spot, your knees buckling, and you pitch forward.

"Sir!"

Rex moves with surprising speed, and his hands reach out, catching you by the waist. You feel the mud squelch beneath your feet, and then his arms are wrapped around your torso, holding you up. You blink a few times, trying to clear the fuzziness from your vision, and you feel another pair of hands grab your arms, helping steady you.

"I'm alright," you mutter. You shake your head, and the world comes into focus. Rex is still holding you, and Kix is standing beside him, his expression concerned. You can't help but blush, the embarrassment creeping up your neck, and you swallow hard, willing your heart to slow.

"Sorry," you say, your voice hoarse, and you wince at the sound of it. "I think I need a minute."

"Take as much time as you need," Rex replies, his voice soft, and he lets go of your waist. Kix takes hold of your arm, and he helps guide you off the trail and into the thick underbrush. Once out of view of the marching army, you settle against a tree trunk, the bark rough against your back. You lean your head back, and you shut your eyes, willing the world to stop spinning.

"I hate this place," you mutter bitterly. Your back slides against the trunk, and you end up sitting on the ground, your legs stretched out in front of you, and the mossy leaves squishing beneath your weight. You're grateful for the shade and the small breeze that rustles the canopy.

Your eyes open as Rex kneels beside you, his helmet tucked under his arm, and his gaze scan the trees. He looks back at you, his brow furrowed. "It is pretty disgusting."

"Understatement of the year," Kix quips. He pulls a canteen from his belt and hands it to you. "Drink this, sir."

You take the canteen and gulp down the liquid. The cool water soothes your throat, and you feel your strength returning, the weakness receding.

You hand the canteen back to Kix and manage a smile. "Thanks, I needed that."

"How are you feeling?" Kix asks, his tone clinical. He pulls a scanner from his belt and begins waving it over your body.

"Better," you reply with a tired sigh. You glance around, the jungle a blur of green and brown, and the realization sets in. You're supposed to be in the middle of a mission, not sitting in the bushes, wallowing in your misery. You look at Rex, and he gives you a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry. We're wasting time," you say, and you start to push yourself up. "We should get moving."

Rex places a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down. "Not a chance, sir. You're going to rest until you're feeling better, and then, we'll move out."

"You sure? What if—"

"General, please," he interrupts, and the use of the title, and the pleading tone of his voice, causes your resistance to crumble. "You need to rest. Don't worry, we'll keep an eye out."

Your mouth opens and closes, and you realize he's right. There's no use arguing, or trying to change his mind. Rex is just as stubborn as you, and if he's set on helping you, then there's no way you're going to talk him out of it. 

Finally, you sigh and nod, closing your eyes. Your muscles are sore, and the heat is draining, and it's a relief to get off your feet. The sounds of the jungle fades away, and all you can hear is the sound of your own breathing. You can feel the Force all around you, the life that exists within the plants and animals. It's a living, breathing entity, and you let yourself get lost in its rhythm, the connection between you and the world a strong, steady flow.

Meditation has always been a useful tool, but it's been harder since Yaddle, the anger and the self-loathing making it difficult to quiet your thoughts. Today, though, surrounded by nature and the bright, pulsing life all around you, the meditation comes easier, and you lose yourself in the peace, the darkness fading.

Time slips away from you, and you're not sure how long you sit there, basking in the light of the Force. It's only when a hand touches your shoulder that you snap out of your trance, and you leap to your feet, drawing your saber in one fluid motion.

You press the button, the yellow blade hissing to life, and the world comes rushing back, the sounds and the smells and the sights assaulting you.

Rex jumps, and he steps back, holding up his hands. "Woah, easy there, General."

"Shit," you mutter, and you lower your saber. The adrenaline ebbs away, and you take a deep breath, the tension leaving your body. "I'm so sorry, Rex. I didn't mean—"

"It's alright," he says as his hands fall, his voice hoarse. "I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that."

"No, I should've known better," you protest, feeling embarrassed. You deactivate your lightsaber and tuck it back into your belt, and you take a step closer to him, checking to make sure you haven't injured him. 

There's a spot on his shoulder, the blue material slightly scorched, and you realize that the tip of your blade had come a little too close for comfort. You reach out instinctively and run your thumb over his pauldron, the armor still warm from the proximity to your weapon.

"Are you okay?"

His helmet tilts down, the visor following the movement of your hand, and he clears his throat, his voice sounding a little strange. "Yeah, I'm good, sir. Nothing a bit of paint won't fix."

You glance up at his face, the helmet still tilted towards you, and he shifts, his posture stiff. It's hard to tell if he's upset, but his body language reads as uncomfortable.  "You sure?"

"I, uh, I'm fine," he replies, and he clears his throat again. His hand comes up, and he runs it along the back of his neck. He seems nervous, and you're about to ask him what's wrong when you realize you're still touching him, your fingers still running along the edge of his pauldron.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you snatch your hand back, clenching it into a fist at your side. "Right. Sorry. It was just, um, habit, I guess. Did you need something?"

Rex coughs, and he shakes his head. He's quick to respond, the words coming out rushed. "Uh, yes. Actually, I did. I was just coming to let you know that the rest of the men have gone ahead to the rendezvous point. They should be there any minute."

"Oh," you say, the realization dawning. The jungle is empty, and the only sounds are the rustling of leaves and the buzzing of insects. "Shit."

"You've been asleep for an hour, sir. We've been taking turns watching you."

Your mouth falls open, and the flush returns to your cheeks. "An hour? Seriously?"

"Yeah," Rex says, the amusement evident. "We weren't sure what else to do, so I let you rest. You seemed like you could use the sleep."

"I can't believe I fell asleep," you mutter, covering your face with your hands. "I'm sorry, Rex. I didn't mean to keep everyone waiting."

He shrugs, and his hand moves to your shoulder, squeezing it gently. "It's okay, sir. Don't worry about it."

You can feel his touch through your armor, the pressure sending a tingle down your spine. The solid weight of his palm is a welcome distraction, and you let yourself enjoy it, the feeling grounding.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, his voice soft.

You nod, the answer coming without hesitation. "Much."

His hand lingers for a moment longer before he releases his grip. He drops his arm, and his helmet tilts, his gaze appraising. "Good. Come on, let's get you back to base."

"After you, Captain," you say, giving him a small bow. He chuckles, and the two of you walk side-by-side, his arm brushing against yours. The path ahead is worn down by the many boots and vehicles that have trod upon it, and it's surprisingly easy to find, the trees spaced far enough apart that it's possible to walk without tripping over roots and branches.

The humidity and the heat have subsided, and the temperature is pleasant, the sun low in the sky. You can hear birds, and frogs, and various other animals, the sounds loud and raucous, and the air smells sweet, the flowers filling the air with their fragrance. It's a nice change from the stench of decay that's permeated the day, and you find yourself enjoying the walk, the beauty of the jungle finally becoming apparent.

You glance at Rex, his head moving left and right as he scans the area. His shoulders are relaxed, his stride even, and he seems more at ease than he has been since you've arrived on the planet. The thought makes you smile, and you feel your own stress lightening.

"How's Ahsoka?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"She's doing well," Rex answers without turning. "A little hot, but she's handling it better than you."

"Togruta are built for this kind of climate," you say, a touch of defensiveness in your voice, and you're careful to avoid stepping on a large vine that's fallen across the path. "I can't help that my human body is weak and fragile."

"You're hardly fragile, sir," he teases, glancing over his shoulder. "I saw you punch a clanker on Geonosis."

You snort as the memory hits. "That was different. I was angry."

"And reckless," he adds. His tone is more amused than admonishing, and you know he's smirking at you from under his helmet.

"I thought I was brave," you counter, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that what you said the other day?"

He chuckles, and he shakes his head, his gaze returning to the trail ahead. "I did."

You grin, a pleased feeling washing over you. From what you've gathered, Rex is a man who takes his duty and himself very seriously. You've seen him joke with the other clones, and there's a camaraderie between them that's obvious. But, there's a formality when he speaks to others, a sense of professionalism. It's clear that he respects the chain of command, and you can't help but feel flattered that he's comfortable enough around you to tease, and to speak more freely.

You're reminded of his words to you that day, when he refused to allow you to chase after Dooku in your misguided anger. He had seen the truth of the situation, and he had been willing to speak up. And you weren't sure how he'd managed to break through your stubbornness, but he had.

You're grateful for his honesty, and for his willingness to challenge you. It's refreshing, and it makes you like him all the more.

"What are you thinking about?" Rex asks, his gaze never leaving the jungle, and his hand rests on his blaster.

"Just thinking about Geonosis," you reply. "And how you told me off."

"I did not tell you off," he protests, his tone indignant. "I merely...advised against you acting rashly."

"You did," you retort with a laugh. "But, I'm glad you did. Otherwise, I might not be here right now. I never got a chance to thank you, and I want you to know how much it meant to me."

He shrugs, and his steps slow. "Any good soldier would've done the same."

"Still," you insist, shaking your head. "You saved my life. I owe you."

Rex stops, and he tugs his helmet off, the action so sudden, it startles you. He's staring at you, his expression intense, and his mouth is pressed into a firm line.

"You don't owe me anything," he replies, his brow furrowing. "That's not how this works."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're soldiers," he says, voice tight. "Our duty is to protect the Republic, and the citizens of the galaxy. We are sworn to serve, and that includes our Jedi. It's not about debts or favors or gratitude. It's about doing what's right and what needs to be done."

You fall silent, the weight of his words settling over you. It's a noble sentiment, and it's easy to see why he's risen so quickly through the ranks. You've always known that the clones were loyal, that they would die for the Jedi, for the Republic. But, it's the first time you've heard one of them explain it, and the intensity in his voice makes your heart clench. 

It, for whatever reason, makes you feel uneasy. Not because you don't believe him, but because you're not sure if he understands. There's a difference between loyalty and blind obedience, and there's a part of you, deep down, that worries that maybe Rex doesn't know the difference. That maybe the Republic prefers it that way, that it's easier to have a slave than an ally.

You shake your head, dismissing the thought, the shame settling in. You're being paranoid, you know. Rex is a good man, and his loyalty is a gift. A gift that, perhaps, the Jedi have taken for granted.

"I'm sorry," you say, your voice quiet. "I didn't mean—"

"It's not your fault, sir," he says, cutting you off. "We were created for this. This is what we were made for."

The words are meant to be reassuring, but they have the opposite effect. Your stomach twists, and the unease grows, the guilt weighing heavy.

"Doesn't that bother you?" you ask, unable to stop the question from leaving your lips. "Being created for a single purpose?"

He looks at you, his head tilted slightly. His face is impassive, his expression blank, and it's impossible to read his thoughts. You hold his gaze, and you realize how little you really know about him, or the other clones. You've been so focused on yourself, on your own failures, that you've barely given any thought to the fact that there's an entire group of people fighting alongside you, fighting and dying, and all you've done is complain about the weather.

He shrugs, and his posture changes, his shoulders dropping slightly, and he runs a hand over his head. "Not really," he says, and he sighs. "It's all we know."

"But, it's not fair," you protest, shaking your head. "You're not just soldiers. You're people. You have thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams. And, yet, the galaxy expects you to put them all aside, to lay down your lives, for a cause you had no choice in joining."

Rex is silent for a moment, and his steps slow. He seems surprised by your words, his brow furrowed, and the corners of his mouth turn downward.

You realize you've said too much, and the guilt returns. You shouldn't have opened your mouth. You should have just kept your thoughts to yourself. 

You try your best to push down the part of you that wants to continue, to say more. To tell him that the Republic is corrupt, that the Jedi are blind, that the galaxy is full of suffering and pain. That the war is a waste, that it will lead to nothing but destruction, and that he deserves better. But, you swallow the words, the anger and the frustration building, and you keep them locked inside.

The truth is, you don't know Rex, not really. And you don't have the right to tell him any of those things. No matter how much you might want to. No matter how much you feel.

Rex's face, however, shows none of these emotions. He's silent, the only sounds the buzzing of insects, and the rustling of leaves, and just when you're beginning to think he's not going to respond, his shoulders rise and fall.

"Well, I for one am grateful," he says, his voice soft, and he keeps his eyes trained straight ahead.

"What?" you ask, not expecting his answer. "Why?

His gaze flicks towards you, and the corner of his mouth twitches. "Because it brought me here." 

"Here?" you echo, raising an eyebrow. "Felucia?"

"Yeah," he says, chuckling, and the tension melts away. He gestures to the surrounding jungle. "I mean, not exactly here. But, the idea. It's just...if the War hadn't happened, I wouldn't be here. None of us would. We'd just be sitting on Kamino, waiting for the day we're decommissioned. Or, maybe, we'd already be dead. Or never have existed in the first place. It's hard to say."

The words are spoken casually, as if they're a matter of fact, and the realization sets in. He's right. If not for the war, the clones wouldn't exist. They'd be just a handful of embryos, a dream, a plan.

But, the war gave them life. And, for many, it gave them death. The thought sends a chill down your spine, and you look at him, the understanding hitting.

"I see," you say, the words coming out quietly. "I suppose I've never thought of it that way."

"It's the only way I can think about it."

Rex's gaze moves back to the path, and you fall silent, his words echoing in your head. He's right, of course. There's no point dwelling on what could have been. The war is here, and there's no going back.

You can't help but admire his attitude, and his ability to find the positive. It's not the first time he's impressed you, and you realize that perhaps, he's the most optimistic person you've ever met. You wonder, briefly, if all clones are like that, or if it's something unique to him.

The two of you walk in silence, the conversation having run its course, and you sneak glances at him as you continue on, the curiosity getting the best of you. There's something about him that's magnetic, and the longer you're around him, the harder it is to look away.

He's handsome, and strong, and kind, and everything you're not. The thought makes your heart sink, and you're reminded once again of your shortcomings, of the darkness inside of you.

You wish, for the briefest of moments, that you were worthy of him, that you deserved his loyalty and his respect.

But, you know you don't.

You shake your head, the movement slight, and the dark thoughts vanish. It's useless. Wishing won't change anything.

Instead, you focus on the task at hand, the mission, and you try to clear your mind. You're almost back to the base, and the thought fills you with relief.

It's another few minutes before the two of you emerge from the thick foliage, and the camp comes into view. It's a large clearing, surrounded by towering trees, and the ground is a combination of dirt and grass. Several tents are being set up, and the sun is beginning to dip below the horizon. It's a welcome sight, and the anticipation of food, and sleep, and a chance to get out of your armor, is a tantalizing prospect.

You're halfway across the clearing, your eyes focused on the makeshift mess hall, when the air shifts, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. You come to a stop, and you reach out to grab Rex's arm, the feeling of foreboding overwhelming.

"Sir?" he asks, his voice low, and his body is tense, coiled.

You're about to answer, but you're cut off by a blaster bolt hitting the ground at your feet, the impact sending up a spray of dirt and rock.

You react on instinct, drawing your lightsabers, the blades glowing brightly, and you spin around. You're able to block the second shot, and the third, the energy of the bolts sizzling against the saber, and you step forward, your body moving into a defensive stance.

Rex is beside you, his blasters drawn, and the two of you move together, circling around, scanning the jungle for the source of the attack.

"Stay behind me," you tell him, the order sharp, and your gaze flicks over to him.

"Sir, you should stay behind me," he counters, his tone just as firm. "This is my job."

"Captain, I'm not going to let—"

"There!" one of the troopers shouts, pointing his finger at a group of trees.

The air is split by the sound of gunfire, the shots ripping through the underbrush, and the blaster bolts tear into the vegetation. Several of the branches fall to the ground, and the trunks are peppered with smoking holes. You can see the glint of metal bodies, and the flash of red, and you grit your teeth, the anger rising.

Droids.

It's an ambush.

The droids are closing in, the outlines barely visible through the thick, green leaves, and they're firing with a single-minded determination. Rex signals for the men to fire, and the clones begin returning the shots, their guns flashing. Several droids fall, but more appear. The battle is on, and you move to the edge of the clearing, intent on taking the fight to the enemy.

Rex is close behind you, his presence a comforting weight, and the two of you rush towards the tree line. The droids are scattered, the blaster bolts raining down on the area, and you raise your blades, ready to meet the enemy head-on.

Your first strike is a slash, the blow slicing through a super battle droid's midsection, the halves falling apart.

Rex is at your side, and his shots hit the next two droids, the metal bodies sparking and sizzling.

You take the next one, a swing cutting the machine's arm clean off, and the appendage flies through the air. You leap into the fray, the blades blurring as you move, relying on your muscle memory to keep you going as you scan the jungle. The droids are everywhere, and the clearing is filling with their bodies.

It's chaos.

You're surrounded, and it's all you can do to keep the shots from hitting the men, your sabers swinging, the light reflecting off the armor and the trees. You throw a boulder, the Force propelling it forward, and the impact crushes a group of the machines.

They keep coming, and the clearing is a whirlwind of activity. You can't see Rex through the mass, and you grit your teeth, the frustration building. You've barely begun, and already, the droids are getting the upper hand.

It's a losing battle, and you can't help but wonder if, maybe, there's another way.

A droid aims a blaster at your chest, and you deflect the shot, sending the bolt ricocheting before leaping into the air. You land behind it, your lightsaber severing its head.

The head hits the ground, and you glance up, seeing Rex's outline through the haze, the smoke from the blasters clouding the area. He's moving in your direction, and you move to meet him, your sabers a blur, the heat of the bolts making your skin prickle.

His head whips to the side before he suddenly grabs your arm and pulls you, his body twisting. You're about to protest, but the words die on your lips as an explosion rocks the ground where you were standing. Your ears are ringing, and you struggle to stay upright, the shockwave rippling through the clearing.

Rex looms over you, his blasters raised and his body shielding yours. You can't hear anything, but you can tell by the way his helmet is moving that he's speaking to you.

Your head is pounding, and your vision swims. You look up, blinking, and your eyes finally focus on the scene before you. The spot where you'd been standing is nothing but a smoking crater, the dirt and rocks scattered. The trees, too, have been shattered, their trunks broken, the leaves ripped apart.

You take a deep breath, and the sound comes rushing back. You can hear the shouts of the clones, the sound of blasters firing, and the explosions of grenades. It's all so loud, the noise deafening, and you want nothing more than to curl up in a ball and wait for it to be over.

Instead, you stagger to your feet, your body aching. Rex grabs onto your arm, helping steady you. He says something, his voice muffled, and you shake your head, trying to clear it.

"What?" you shout, trying to be heard over the cacophony.

He leans closer, his grip tightening. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," you lie, pushing yourself away from him, and you take another breath, the dizziness subsiding. You give him a weak smile. "That's two I owe you, Captain."

He shakes his head, and the helmet tilts, the motion conveying the exasperation. "You can repay me by not getting yourself blown up, sir."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. "I'll do my best."

Another blast hits the ground a few feet away, and the two of you jump back, the dirt and rocks flying. The droids are still advancing, their numbers seemingly endless, and you realize that the clones are losing ground.

"We have to get out of here," Rex shouts, the panic obvious. "This is a losing battle."

You glance around, trying to see a way out. The clearing is a battlefield, the bodies of droids and clones littering the ground. It's a bloodbath, and the men are outnumbered. There's no hope of winning, and it's only a matter of time before they're overrun.

You can feel the weight of the decision pressing down on you. It's not the first time you've faced such a dilemma, but it never gets easier. The will to keep fighting, to give everything you have, to protect the people you love.

And yet, there's another part of you that knows when to retreat, when the cost is too great. It's a part of you that you're ashamed of, a part that you try to bury. But right now, with Rex at your side, and his brothers' lives in danger, it's hard to ignore.

You look at him, and his gaze meets yours. You find yourself wishing you could see his eyes, and the expression on his face. To know what he's thinking, and what he's feeling.

He seems to sense the question, and he gives a slight nod, the gesture conveying the understanding. He's with you, and whatever choice you make, he'll support you.

The knowledge helps. And it strengthens your resolve.

"Alright," you say, grimacing, and your hand lifts as you activate your comm. The static crackles in your ear, a deafening roar, and you're not sure if anyone will hear. "Anakin, can you hear me?"

The line is silent, and for a moment, you fear the worst. Then, a voice, garbled and distorted, cuts through the noise.

"Goldie, what the hell is going on?"

Relief floods you, and you press the button, the sound of the battle still raging around you. You press your back against the tree, using it as cover, and Rex does the same a few feet away.

"We have to retreat," you shout, your words almost drowned out by a barrage of blaster bolts. "There are too many droids."

Anakin is quiet for a moment, and the sounds of the battlefield echo through the comm. You hear his saber slice through something, and he yells a command, the order almost indistinguishable.

"We can't," he says, his breathing labored. "We have to stand our ground."

You watch Rex, and the helmet turns, his body still tense. He's focused on the fight, but you can feel his anger, and his frustration, and his desire to protect his brothers. It's palpable, and the emotions feed yours, twisting, and pulling, and growing.

You swallow, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. "Anakin, we're getting slaughtered out here. We have to pull back, regroup, and try again later."

"Not an option, Goldie. We can't afford to lose this base," he counters, his tone firm. "If we lose the base, we could lose the planet."

Rex ducks from cover, firing, and a droid falls, its limbs jerking as the sparks fly. He's back in position in seconds, his helmet turning, searching for another target.

The droids are advancing, and they're beginning to surround you, their metal bodies crowding the tree line. The clones are starting to fall back, and the gap between the two forces is narrowing.

It's getting dangerous, and it's only a matter of time before the battle will be completely lost.

"Anakin, listen to me," you say, your voice low. "We have to leave. If we stay here, we're going to lose more than the base. We're going to lose the entire battalion."

The words seem to echo in the air, and the tension in the clearing is so thick, you can feel it. You take a deep breath and reach out, trying to center yourself. The Force around you is in chaos, but you can feel Rex, his presence steady and strong. You cling to it, to him, and it's the only thing that keeps you from spiraling into panic.

Anakin doesn't respond right away, and the silence drags on. More and more clones are falling back, passing you and heading towards the safety of the jungle. You see Kix dragging an injured trooper, the man's leg a bloody mess, and you wince.

You wait for Anakin's response, knowing the decision is his. You've given your advice, and you trust him to make the right choice. You always have, and you always will.

But, right now, in the heat of the battle, it's hard to have faith.

"Fine," he huffs at last, and his voice sounds strained. "Pull back, but we're coming back with a plan to take this damn base."

You breathe a sigh of relief, the weight of the decision lifted from your shoulders. "Copy that. We'll rendezvous at the secondary camp."

You end the transmission, and Rex glances at you, his helmet tilted.

"The general is calling a retreat," you explain, and his shoulders relax slightly. "We need to get to the secondary camp, and then, we can regroup."

"Yes, sir," he says with a nod. He raises his hand, signaling to the clones, and his voice echoes in the clearing, the sound carrying over the chaos. "Fall back! Fall back!"

You watch the troops obey, the men retreating into the jungle, their bodies disappearing into the foliage. It'll be miles before you reach Obi-Wan's camp, and the walk will be a long one.

You look at Rex, and the two of you share a brief moment of eye contact before he's moving, and the two of you fall into step beside each other, running alongside the others. The droids follow, the battle raging, and the forest is filled with the sounds of gunfire, and screams, and the hum of the blasters.

The sun has set, and the air is cooler, the night sky a dark purple barely visible through the canopy. You keep running, the exhaustion beginning to set in, and the ache in your muscles making each step a struggle. The path ahead is littered with obstacles, the fallen trees and rocks, and the thick underbrush making the going difficult. You can hear the footsteps of the clones, the rattling of their armor, and you try not to think about how many might be injured, or worse.

You try not to think about what might have happened if you'd stayed, or how many more would have died if you hadn't made the decision to retreat.

The guilt is a constant, weighing heavier on you with every step. The battle had been a loss, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the retreat had been a mistake. That you should have pushed harder, or come up with another plan. It's a feeling you've had before, and it never gets easier.

The pain in your head grows the longer you run, the headache becoming a dull throb, and the pressure builds, the darkness threatening to take over. It's a familiar sensation, and you try to block it out, focusing on the path ahead and on keeping up with the pace.

The minutes drag on, and the air becomes more humid, the scent of rain filling your nose. The droids are still pursuing, and you can see the flashes of their lights as they move through the trees. But, they’re getting farther and farther away, the gap between the two sides widening.

The wave of relief is tempered with the exhaustion that finally catches up with you, and you have to slow down, your breathing heavy. You stumble, and Rex reaches out, his arm steadying you.

"Sir, are you sure you're okay?" he asks, his voice low with concern, and the helmet tilts as he studies you. "You took a pretty bad hit."

"You don't have to babysit me, Rex," you retort. The words coming out more sharply than intended, and Rex immediately drops his hold on your arm.

"I'm not babysitting you, sir," he says stiffly. "I'm just concerned. It's my duty to make sure you're safe."

You roll your eyes, the frustration rising, and the anger bubbles to the surface. It's been a long day, and the last thing you want is to be coddled. Especially not by Rex, especially not when all he's doing is making you feel like a failure and a liability.

"I'm fine," you insist, a bit harsher than necessary, and you start moving again, intent on leaving him behind, the urge to put distance between the two of you growing. "I can take care of myself."

He falls into step beside you, his steps quickening to match yours.

"I'm well aware, sir," he says. The exasperation in his voice is clear even through the modulation of his helmet, and you can't help but wince. You're being unfair, and you know it. But, you can't stop the feelings from building. "But, I would appreciate it if you would allow me to do my job. And, my job is to protect you."

"And, my job is to protect you," you bite out through clenched teeth. "All of you."

You shake your head, and the guilt settles in, the regret mixing with the anger, and the resentment, and the self-loathing. It's a potent combination, and it makes your stomach twist, the nausea growing.

Rex doesn’t respond, the two of you walking side by side in tense silence. It's unbearable, and you know it's your fault. You're the one who started it, after all. You're the one who keeps picking fights and pushing people away.

But, you can't help it. You're not built for this. For the war, and the battles, and the responsibility. You were never supposed to be here, and the more time you spend on the front lines, the more you realize how unprepared you are, how out of place.

It's a harsh reality, and it makes the anger burn brighter.

It's not fair, and it's not right, and it's not what you want.

And, yet, here you are, leading a battalion and fighting a war. And, no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to get it right. You can't seem to keep them safe, or stop the fighting, or end the war. You can't seem to make a difference, no matter how hard you try.

You can't seem to do anything.

"With all due respect, sir," Rex starts, breaking the silence. His voice is soft, and he sounds almost...defeated. "It's not the same."

You stop, your gaze shifting towards him, and he slows, coming to a halt beside you. The clones keep moving, and the group is beginning to stretch out, the men spreading out along the trail.

You look at him, and he meets your gaze, his posture tense.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, there's a difference," he says, voice deliberate and measured. "We were made for this, to fight and die. You weren't. And, we don't expect you to. We know you're doing your best."

The words hit harder than expected, and the breath leaves your lungs, the realization sinking in. It's not the first time you've heard it, and the clones have said it often. But, somehow, coming from him, it seems to carry more weight. You don’t like it. Not the words, not the sentiment, and not the way it makes you feel.

You shake your head. "I'm a Jedi," you argue. "This is my job, just as much as it is yours."

"No, sir," he counters, his tone firm, and the certainty is unmistakable. "Your job is to lead, to guide us, and to protect the Republic. Our job is to fight, and die, if necessary. We're expendable, you're not."

The words sting, and you can't help the flinch, the emotions threatening to overwhelm. It's too much, and the tears sting your eyes. You take a deep breath, trying to swallow the feelings down.

"That's not true," you say, shaking your head. "You're not expendable. You're valuable, and important, and you deserve to be protected."

Rex sighs, the sound crackling through his modulator, and for a moment, he just stares, the gaze impossible to read. He's silent, and the only sounds are the footsteps of the clones, the rustling of the leaves, the distant sounds of the battle, the echoes of explosions reaching your ears.

He reaches up and slowly pulls off his helmet, and his eyes lock with yours. The moonlight shines off his face, highlighting his cheekbones, and the curve of his jaw. He looks tired, the bags under his eyes more prominent, and the worry is etched into his features underneath the dirt and the sweat.

It hurts to look at him. To see the concern, and the understanding, and the care in his expression. It makes the guilt and the shame that much worse.

"I know you believe that, sir," he says, and his voice is quiet and gentle. "But, the truth is, we're soldiers. This is what we were bred for. What we were created for. And, if we die, we'll have fulfilled our purpose. We'll have served the Republic, and the Jedi. That's enough."

The words are said with a finality, and you understand without a doubt that he believes them, every single one. That, in some strange way, he's happy with the path he's on.

You shake your head, unable to wrap your mind around it. Unable to accept it. "Rex—"

"General," he says, cutting you off. He moves closer, his hands clenching around the helmet in his grip. "Listen, the last thing I want is to make this about me. But, I need you to understand, this is how we see it. How we feel. And, I don't think you can lead us if you don't recognize that."

His gaze is intense, and his eyes search yours, looking for something. What, you're not sure. But, it's clear that he's not going to back down, and that he's not going to change his mind.

You swallow as the realization sets in. The truth is, you do know in a way, perhaps more than either of you realize. You've known since the moment the Jedi found you, since the moment you were brought into their fold. That, to the galaxy, and the Force, and the universe, you were always a tool, a means to an end. That your life was not your own, not really.

And, that, one day, you would die, and it would all be for nothing.

"Why?" you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

"Because, it's the truth," he says, and the response is so honest, and so open, it makes your chest ache.

"No, I mean, why are you so okay with it?" you ask, shaking your head. "Why aren't you angry, or frustrated? Why aren't you fighting it?"

His lips press together, the frown pulling at the corner, and he looks away, his eyes focused on the path ahead. He runs a hand over his head and down the back of neck, the action seemingly unconscious.

He's silent for a long moment, and you wait, the anticipation growing inside you.

Finally, he sighs, his shoulders sagging, and he glances at you.

"Because, I was made for this," he says, his voice soft. "This is what I was created for. And, I know I'll never be able to do more than this."

His words are like a punch to the gut, and you can't hide the hurt in your eyes. The look on your face seems to make him realize the impact of his words, and Rex quickly averts his gaze, his expression contrite.

He turns, and the two of you continue walking, the silence settling over the two of you, the awkwardness growing.

You're not sure why his words bother you so much, but they do. You've always known that the clones were designed for war, that their sole purpose was to serve the Republic. But you've been bothered by it since the day they arrived, beacons of hope and fear and everything in between. Since the first time you saw Rex, a sense of dread washed over you, and a pit formed in your stomach. It's a feeling that's only gotten worse as time went on, and every day brings new horrors.

The more time you spend with them, the more human they seem. And the thought of their lives being taken for something so meaningless makes you want to scream.

You've never been able to understand how the Council could condone the use of the clones, or how the Jedi could turn a blind eye. It goes against everything you were taught, everything you believe. And, it's a constant reminder of the corruption and hypocrisy of the Order.

The thought makes the anger rise, the resentment bubbling to the surface.

"It's not right," you mutter, and the words are more to yourself than to him. "It's not fair."

Rex looks at you, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes are dark, and they're filled with something. Something you can't quite name, something that makes your chest tighten and your heart beat faster. He doesn't ask, and he doesn't have to. He knows.

"That's just the way it is, sir," he says, his voice steady. "This is our place, and we have to make the best of it."

The words are heavy, and they land with a finality that resonates. He's accepted his role, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to fulfill it. No matter the cost, no matter the pain.

You wish you could be that selfless, that determined. You wish you could be like him, and Anakin, and Obi-Wan. They all have a strength that you'll never understand, a sense of duty and honor and courage that you can only dream of.

You wish you could have a fraction of their conviction, their dedication. But, you're not like them. You've never been like them. And, you doubt you'll ever be.

You're not sure what to say, so you don't say anything. Rex secures his helmet back on and moves ahead of you, taking point, his pace brisk, the armor glinting in the moonlight. You're left alone, and you're grateful for the reprieve.

You're not sure how to deal with your feelings, with your frustration. You feel helpless, and there's a part of you that wants to grab Rex by the shoulders and shake him until he sees the truth, until he understands.

But, you know that won't work. You know that, in the end, the only person who can change his mind is him. And, even then, you're not sure it would make a difference.

You walk, and the night passes slowly, the exhaustion seeping into your bones. Your body aches, and your head is pounding, the pain making each step a struggle. The battle, and the argument, and the journey have drained you, and the emotional toll is just as bad.

You try to reach out through the Force, to draw on its power, and it comes slowly, the energy flowing through you, and around you. But the presence of so much death and destruction is disorienting, and the pressure builds, the headache becoming a steady, throbbing pain. You need to find Obi-Wan, and soon. Otherwise, you're afraid you might snap.

You can't help but wonder if that's what the Council intended, when they assigned you to the front lines. To push you until you break, and then, send you back to the Temple, a lesson learned. Or, maybe, they don't care at all. They've washed their hands of you, and now, they're content to watch you fail.

The thought sends a chill down your spine, and the anger simmers, the resentment building. You're not sure what the truth is, but the possibilities are terrifying.

The base camp is quiet when you arrive, the men hunkered down and waiting for the next wave of attacks. You can feel their fear, their anxiety, and it makes your chest ache. There's nothing worse than the waiting, the not knowing. It's a different kind of battle, one that's just as dangerous, and just as painful.

You make your way to the command tent, the flap open and the light spilling out onto the ground. Ahsoka and Anakin are already there, looking over a holo-map, and their heads snap up as you enter, their gazes locking onto yours.

The tension in the air is palpable, and their faces are drawn, the exhaustion written on their features. They've both been through a lot today, and you can feel the weight of it pressing down on them.

You give them a small smile, and Anakin nods, his posture relaxing, if only slightly. His eyes shift behind you, and the concern returns, the worry etched into his face. You turn, following his gaze, and your eyes lock with Rex's.

He's standing in the entrance, his helmet in his hand, and his eyes are narrowed. The worry, and the anger, are clear, and it's obvious to you that he's still upset.

You turn back, the guilt too much to deal with, and you try to rub the tiredness from your eyes. As you move to stand beside Anakin, you can't help but notice the way Ahsoka's eyes flick from you, to Rex, and back again.

She frowns, and she glances at her master, the silent question in her eyes. He doesn't respond, his focus on the map, and she sighs.

"Are you alright?" she asks you, her voice low.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you reply, and you try to give her a reassuring smile, but you're not sure it's very convincing. "Just a little tired, that's all."

"It's been a long day," she agrees, and her eyes linger on the bruise on your face, the blood dried and flaking. "You should get that checked out."

You shake your head. "I'll be fine. It's just a bruise."

She gives you a look, her eyebrows raising, and she opens her mouth to protest, but Rex beats her to it, his voice cutting her off.

"I agree, sir," he says, moving closer. The armored plates of his thighs hit the edge of the holotable, his movements stiff, and you wince at the sound. "You should get it checked out."

The three of you look at him in surprise. He's been quiet since you arrived, but now, he's standing firm, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He's not backing down, and the frustration is radiating from him, his anger almost tangible.

Anakin's eyebrows raise, and his lips twitch in amusement. "I see Rex has been acquainted with your infamous stubbornness, Goldie."

You roll your eyes. "I'm not that stubborn."

Rex makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a scoff, and you shoot him a glare.

"I'm not," you insist, crossing your arms. "Besides, there are more important things to worry about. We need to discuss our next move."

"Agreed," Obi-Wan's voice echoes from the tent opening. He enters with Cody close behind, his face drawn. "We have to come up with a plan, and fast. We're losing ground, and we can't afford to lose this planet."

His eyes drift over you, his gaze lingering on the bruise, and he frowns. "I see you've gotten yourself injured again."

The accusation is clear, and the anger flares, hot and bright. You bite back a retort, not wanting to start another argument, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. Obi-Wan must feel it, because he sighs, and the annoyance leaves his face, his eyes softening with understanding.

"Come here, my dear," he says, gesturing as he steps up to you. "Let me take a look at it."

You hesitate, the embarrassment making the blush spread across your face. But, after a moment, you move forward, and his fingers lightly trace the bruise. You can't help but wince as he presses on the swollen skin, and his brow furrows.

"It's not serious," Obi-Wan says, his tone thoughtful. "But, you should be careful. Head wounds can be tricky."

"Thank you, Master," you say, the sarcasm evident, and he smirks. His hand lingers for a moment longer, and then, he drops it, stepping away.

"Now," he continues, moving towards the table. "We need to come up with a strategy, and quickly. There's no telling when the Separatists will make their next move, and we can't afford to be caught off guard."

You nod as you take your place, and the others follow suit, gathering around the holo-map. Through the blue projection of the battlefield, you can see the battle is still raging, the droids advancing, and the clones' position shrinking.

Your gaze shifts, and your eyes lock with Rex's, startled to find him already watching. His lips are pressed together, his jaw clenched, and his eyes are intense, the brown irises darker than usual. He looks away, his gaze turning back to the holo-map, and the feeling in your stomach grows.

You turn your attention back to the meeting, trying to focus, but it's difficult, your mind elsewhere.

You don't want to think about the fact that Rex cares, that his concern, and his anger, and his frustration are directed towards you. You don't want to think about what that means, or how it makes you feel. You can't, not when you're trying to keep everyone alive, not when you're trying to figure out a way to win the war.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself, and you look at the holo-map, determined to focus.

"How long before we can get reinforcements?" Anakin asks Obi-Wan. "We can't hold this position without help."

"The Council is sending additional troops, but it will take time," Obi-Wan says, a note of defeat in his voice. "We'll have to manage the situation ourselves, at least for the time being."

"So, what do we do?" Ahsoka asks as she looks around the table.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, his expression grim. "We fight. Hopefully, we can hold the line until reinforcements arrive."

"And if we can't?"

Your question hangs in the air, the unspoken truth hanging heavy between the six of you. If the Republic doesn't send help, or if the battle goes badly, there will be nothing stopping the Separatists from taking the planet.

It's not something any of you want, but the reality is harsh, and it's a possibility none of you can afford to ignore.

"Let's just focus on getting through the next few hours," Anakin says, his voice firm. "We can deal with the rest later."

The determination in his eyes, the unwavering resolve, is a familiar look, and one that you've seen many times. It's the same look he's had every time you've needed him, the same look he's had since he was just a youngling, always ready to help, to protect, to fight.

He's never backed down from a challenge, and he's not about to start now.

You take a deep breath, drawing on his strength, and you feel a small bit of relief.

"Alright," you say, nodding. "Let's get to work."

You spend the next few hours poring over the maps, planning your defenses, and trying to come up with a strategy. The reality is, there's only so much you can do, and the odds are not in your favor. But, you have to try, and you have to hope, and you have to have faith that the Republic will send help, and that the reinforcements will arrive before the Separatists destroy everything.

Finally, the meeting is over, and the six of you head back out into the camp. It's dark and quiet, and the air is heavy with smoke. The men are huddled around small fires, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames, and they're exhausted, their postures slumped, their expressions grim. There's a somberness in the air, and the knowledge that the battle is far from over.

You walk through the camp, offering encouraging words where you can, and trying to reassure the men, even as the doubt and fear continue to grow. You stop and check on the injured, offering what comfort you can, and you take the time to speak to the medics, ensuring they have what they need.

It's not much, but it's all you can do, and you're grateful for the opportunity to connect with the clones, even for a moment. On your way out, Kix presses a bacta patch into your hands, his eyes narrow in disapproval.

"You need to take care of yourself, sir," he says, voice firm. "No one else is going to do it."

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "I will. Promise."

He's not satisfied, but he doesn't argue, and you continue on, your feet carrying you through the camp. You wander, the exhaustion making your movements slow, and the ache in your muscles growing.

Your steps eventually bring you to the edge of the jungle, and you stand, your eyes sweeping over the landscape, the view breathtaking. The moonlight reflects off the trees, the canopy lit up, the colors vibrant. The scent of the forest fills the air, the smell of earth and life and nature mixing with the smoke, the acrid stench of death.

You can't get Rex's words out of your head, his voice echoing in your ears, the memory playing over and over again. You know he's right, and that the clones are different, and that their lives are more expendable than yours, but it doesn't make it any easier. It doesn't change the fact that, in the end, you're all fighting and dying for a Republic that doesn't care about any of you, a system that's broken, and corrupt, and flawed.

You let out a frustrated breath, the anger simmering, and you look up at the sky, the stars glittering. You don't get to see the stars on Coruscant, not with the light pollution, and it's a sight you'll never get used to.

"I can feel your anger," a voice says, and you glance to your left, surprised to find Ahsoka standing beside you. Her eyes are narrowed, and her arms are crossed over her chest. "You're upset."

"I'm sorry." You look away, turning back to the view, the guilt settling in. "I'm just frustrated. It's nothing."

She moves closer, and she's quiet for a moment, her eyes studying you. "About the battle?"

You sigh, shaking your head. "About the whole damn war."

She hums, her expression thoughtful.

"Me too," she admits, and her gaze shifts, her eyes finding the stars. "There's so much, and sometimes, it feels like there's no end in sight."

"It's like no matter what we do, it's not enough," you say, your voice quiet. "The fighting, the death, the sacrifices...it's not changing anything."

Ahsoka is silent, her gaze focused on the night sky, and you can feel her uncertainty, her emotions swirling. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from saying more, to keep from pouring out all your doubts and fears and frustrations. She's younger than you, and she's struggling, just as much as the rest of you, and the last thing she needs is you putting even more pressure on her.

But, before you can apologize, and try to distract her, she speaks.

"We must do the hard work of mastering our fear, so that in turn does not master us," Ahsoka says. She pauses, the words weighing heavily. "Master Yoda taught us that. I never understood, not until recently."

"Yeah," you say, and the sadness hits, the realization settling in. "Me too."

She turns, her eyes finding yours, and her expression is solemn. "We have to stay positive. We have to believe that there's a way out of this, that we'll find a solution. Otherwise, the anger, and the hate, and the despair...they'll consume us, and we'll never be able to come back from that."

The tears well, and you nod, your throat tight. For a moment, you don't trust yourself to speak, and the silence stretches between the two of you. Ahsoka seems to understand, and she turns back to the view, giving you the time you need to collect yourself.

You look up at the stars, the sky bright and the stars glinting, and, for a moment, you can almost believe.

"We will find a way," you say with a conviction you don't feel, and you give her a small smile. "We have to."

She nods, and her lips curve upward. "Yes, we will."

"Has anyone ever told you you're wise beyond your years?" you tease.

She rolls her eyes, and her smile grows, the amusement lighting up her face. "Not as much as they should."

You can't help the laugh, the sound bubbling out of you, and the tension leaves your body. She grins, her expression mischievous, and she nudges you playfully with her elbow.

"You know, if you ever want to talk, I'm here. We can...hang out, or whatever."

The invitation is unexpected, and the surprise must be written on your face, because she quickly adds, "I mean, if you want."

The happiness flooding your chest catches you off-guard, and it takes you a moment before you can find your words.

"I would like that," you say, and she returns the smile, her relief palpable. "How are you at Sabacc?"

She raises her eyebrows, interest sparking in her eyes. "Pretty good. Why?"

You grin. "I have a deck in my tent."

"Are you challenging me, Master?" she asks with a smirk.

"Only if you're brave enough, Padawan," you say, and her smile widens.

"Okay, bring it."

You laugh, and the two of you turn, heading towards the tents. As you walk, Ahsoka starts talking, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you, and you find yourself relaxing, the anxiety easing with every step. It's a rare occurrence, these moments of levity, and you're grateful for the chance to be happy, if only for a little while. 

You'll need it, if you're going to survive what's to come.

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[qtboni]

Hello again boni! its me, again, bc i adored your writing on my last req! i have another if that okay!

how would ghost (or maybe konig too, bc i luv him aswell) act if you told him you were pregnant? like this is early relationship, maybe a month or two into dating, only had sex about 4 times, and how would he go about telling soap and his friends and shit?

if you dont want to do this req u dont have to, but it was jus an idea! ^v^

again, thank you in advance, luv ya and your work!

HAI BBY! sorry this took so long to write >< i hope this makes up for it! i also saw your other req and im rly looking forward in writing it! thank you for this!

╰﹒ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Fem!Reader & König X Fem!Reader

OVERVIEW: Your partner's reaction to the news of your pregnancy.

C/W: A sprinkle of angst with cute comfort and fluff ^^ mentions of being pregnant.

You took a deep breath, trying to still the trembling in your limbs. Your hands were shaking as you reached for the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter. You closed the door behind you and sat down on the cold tile floor, closing your eyes as you waited for the result.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you looked down at the test. Two bold lines were staring back up at you. You couldn't believe it - you were pregnant! At first, you felt a wave of joy wash over you, but it quickly turned into terror.

You were pregnant... with a baby. His baby.

You didn't know how to tell him, you were terrified that he would leave you if he found out. Tears streamed down your face as you collapsed onto the floor, sobbing inconsolably.

You had always dreamt of having a baby, but this was too much. It was too early. You were scared, alone, and entirely unsure of what to do. The idea of bringing a human being into this world was daunting, and you couldn't shake the fear that you wouldn't be a good parent.

You stayed there on the bathroom floor for what felt like hours, tears streaming down your face, until finally you heard the sound of your thoughts, telling you that you need to tell him. Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly wiped away your tears, trying to compose yourself, and scrambled to your feet to find him.

You opened the door and went out, sniffling away your tears. You were determined to do what was right, even though you knew it would be painful.

── ◜‹3◞  SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY :

"I'm pregnant..." you said, your voice shaking.

You stood in front of Simon, your legs trembling as you held the positive pregnancy test in your hand. You had taken the test a dozen times, and each time it came back positive. You had tried to push the thought of it away, to pretend it wasn't happening, but the reality was sinking in. You were going to be a mother. But more than that, you might become a mother without the man you love.

The words echoed in the silence that followed, as if they hung in the air between you two. Simon took a step back, his eyes growing wider as he tried to make sense of what you had just told him.

Simon stood in front of you, his eyes searching yours for an answer. You could see the shock and confusion written all over his face, and you knew this was the moment to tell him.

"What.." you heard him whisper. You thought he was going to run, to leave you to face this alone. But he didn't move, he just stood there, frozen in place..

That isn't a good sign.

You felt a lump form in your throat as the tears welled up in your eyes. This was too much to bear on your own, and you needed him, you needed his support, or else you didn't know how you would make it through this. But the silence was unbearable, and you felt like you were suffocating.

"I.." You took a step forward, your hand extended towards him. "Please, Simon, I need you."

You cradled your stomach and felt hot tears slowly going down your cheeks. You sobbed as you managed to choke out, "I can't do this alone, Si'. Please..."

Long gone was the distress in his eyes. Softness emerged from them as he realized the situation. And you swore you saw a shimmer in his eyes. You slowly watch as he reached out and took your hand, his touch sending an electric shock through your body.

"I'm here, sorry, love," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm here for you."

You felt like you could finally breathe again, like you had just been given a second chance. You felt a sense of relief wash over you, and you broke down in tears, finally letting go of all the fear and emotion that had been swirling inside of you.

Simon pulled you into his arms, holding you tight as you cried, his presence the only thing that kept you going. You look up at Simon, tears streaming down your face.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper. "I know this is a lot to take in, and I know it's not the right time."

Simon's eyes soften as he lowers himself to one knee, taking your hands in his. "Don't be sorry, love," he says. "We're in this together, we'll figure it out. I love you. I'll do everything I can to be there for you and our baby."

You feel a rush of relief and gratitude wash over you, and you lean in to hug him. "Thank you, Simon," you whisper.

Over the next few months, Simon goes above and beyond to show his support. He does research on pregnancy, childbirth, and newborn care, and he attends every doctor's appointment with you. He asks questions and listens carefully to the advice of the healthcare professionals, and he makes a point of being involved in every aspect of your pregnancy.

As you begin to show, Simon becomes more protective of you, helping you with simple tasks like carrying groceries or opening doors.

Despite his own uncertainties and insecurities from his abusive father, Simon still dreams to be a good father. He would spend time reading parenting books and attending parenting classes.

In those early days, Simon is a different man than the one he was before the baby arrived. He's more patient, more sensitive, and more thoughtful. He listens to you more deeply, and he makes an effort to truly see and understand you.

Simon walked into the pub, greeted by the familiar sound of laughter and the smell of beer. He made his way to the bar and ordered a beer, before taking a seat at their usual table in the corner.

Gaz, Captain Price, and Soap were already there, engaged in a conversation. As soon as Simon sat down, Soap noticed his presence and greeted him with a wave.

"Hey, mate," Soap said, his accent thicker than usual after a few beers. "What's up?"

Simon took a sip of his beer and cleared his throat, trying to come up with the right words to say. "I need to talk to you guys about something," he said, his voice sounding a little hoarse.

Gaz put down his beer and turned to face Simon. "What's up, man?" he asked, his concern evident on his face.

Simon took a deep breath, steeling himself for the reaction he was going to get. "My girlfriend and I are expecting a baby," he said, feeling a mix of emotions wash over him.

The three friends looked surprised for a moment, before bursting into a chorus of congratulations and questions.

Gaz asked if it was a boy or a girl, while Captain Price offered to help build the nursery and Soap promised to be there for Simon every step of the way, even bragged at the man jokingly that he would be the favorite uncle of his child amongst Gaz and Price.

Simon felt overwhelmed with gratitude for his friends' support. He felt like he could handle anything, knowing that he had people in his life who cared about him and were there for him, no matter what.

Simon, although still is quite insecure with himself to be a dad, he wants to be there for your child.

── ◜‹3◞  KÖNIG :

König is sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, unaware of what's about to happen and you shakily inhaled.

"Hun," you say, your voice trembling, "I need to talk to you."

He looks up at you, sensing that something's off.

"What's wrong, schatz?" he asks, placing his phone down and coming closer to you.

"I'm pregnant," you blurt out, feeling a wave of emotions wash over you. His eyes widen in surprise, and he takes a step back.

"W-Was meinst du?" he stammers in German, clearly taken aback by the news.

For a moment, there's silence between the two of you. You can see the fear and uncertainty in his expression.

"Are you sure?" he adds, his voice quieter than usual.

"I've taken three tests," you assure him and fumbled on your fingers. "It's... I'm sure."

You watch as König sinks onto the couch, rubbing his forehead as he tries to process the news. His social anxiety is starting to kick in, and you can see him pulling inward. You know this is a lot for him to take in, and you want to give him the space he needs to process his emotions.

But as you stand there, waiting for him to respond, you notice a sudden change in his behavior. He stood up to pace back and forth, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You can tell that he's getting increasingly agitated, and you're not sure what's going on.

This hurts you. So much.

Before you confront him about it, he abruptly storms out of the room, his footsteps echoing through the house. You're left standing there, confused and worried. Hurt, you cradled yourself for protection. Was it something you said? Did you do something wrong?

You spend the next few minutes in a state of anxiety, unable to shake the feeling that something is deeply amiss. You have no idea what to do or where to turn. But then, several minutes later, König finally comes back.

You hear him before you see him, his footsteps pounding against the floor. You jump up from the couch, your heart pounding in your chest. It's clear that he's in a state of panic, his hair disheveled and his eyes wide with distress.

"I'm sorry," König says, his voice shaking as he rushes to you.

He pulls you into a tight hug, his body trembling against yours. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, and you wrap your arms around him, offering comfort and reassurance.

"I'm so sorry, mein liebling," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please forgive me."

You're too stunned to even speak. Why'd he leave? And, he came back?

He takes your hands in his, tears streaming down his face.

"I never meant to hurt you," he says, his voice hitching. "It was just too much, too fast. I'm sorry, Es tut mir so leid, Süße."

"It's okay, König," you say, kissing the top of his head. "I understand. This is a lot for both of us to take in."

He pulls away slightly, looking up at you with teary eyes.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," he says, his voice cracking. "I'm so scared. I don't want to mess this up."

You caress his cheek softly, smiling at him. "We'll figure this out together," you say, your voice filled with kindness and love. "Okay?"

He nods, clinging onto you tightly.

"Okay," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude. "Danke, mein liebe. I love you so much."

König kissed your forehead and continued on peppering kisses all over your pretty face, making you giggle.

And in that moment, you know that everything will be alright. You're in this together, and you'll face whatever challenges come your way, hand in hand, united in love and determination.

The day König found out about the pregnancy was one of the most overwhelming moments of his life. He never expected to become a father so soon, and the thought of having so much responsibility suddenly weighed heavily on him.

As someone who struggles with social anxiety, he found it difficult to process his emotions and express them to you. He withdrew into myself, feeling isolated and like he was failing you.

But you refused to let him pull away. You gently but firmly pulled him back in, offering love and reassurance at every turn. You listened to his fears and concerns, and gave him the space to process them at his own pace. You were in this together, and he would be right there beside you every step of the way.

As the days passed, König slowly started to come out of his shell. He became more involved in the pregnancy, eager to learn and prepare for your new life as parents. He started to think about what kind of father he wanted to be, and how he could be the best partner he could be to you.

He was still anxious at times, but your support and love never wavered. You reminded him that he didn't have to be perfect, that you would face the future together, and that you would make mistakes along the way. Together, you faced every challenge that came your way, from picking out baby names to decorating the nursery. You became a team, united by your love for each other and your love for your child.

Through it all, König realized that you were his strength, his hope, and his happiness. You were his everything, and he couldn't imagine going through this journey without you. He knew that you were meant to be together, and that the road ahead would be filled with love, happiness, and joy.

König had always struggled with social anxiety, and it had been difficult for him to make friends. But he was incredibly close to his beloved grandmother, who he knew would be overjoyed to hear the news of his soon-to-be fatherhood.

So, he took a deep breath and started to write down what he wanted to say, practicing it a few times to help him feel more prepared. He knew that this was an important moment in his life, and he wanted to share it with the person he loved the most.

When he finally approached his grandmother's house, he could already hear her laughter and happy tears. It was as if she had been expecting the news, and he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders.

König takes a deep breath and approaches his grandmother, holding out the sonogram photo. His heart races as he waits for her to look up, eager to share the news.

"Großmutter," he trailed off. "I have some news to share with you."

"Oh, König, selbstverständlich!" the old woman said in her native tongue as she turns to him. "What is it, dear?"

"Großmutter," He clears his throat. "I'm going to be a father."

König watches his grandma's eyes light up and he felt so relieved to hear, "Oh König, that's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you!"

To his surprise, his grandmother responded with the sweetest words of love and encouragement that he had ever heard. She told him how proud she was of him, and how excited she was for your journey ahead as the mother of her grandkid.

He replies back in German, "Thank you, Großmutter. It means so much to have your support."

The old woman stood up and hugged him tightly, "Of course, dear. You know I'll always be here for you."

His grandma then kisses his cheek. He could see the joy on her face as he told her about the new life growing inside him, and he felt a warm sense of love and acceptance. Konig felt an overwhelming rush of happiness and gratitude as he hugged his grandmother tightly. For someone who struggled with social anxiety, the kindness and love that she showed him made him feel more confident and secure in the journey ahead.

With their love and guidance, König was excited to embrace the next chapter of his life as a father. He knew that he would never have to face life's challenges alone, he had you. You had always been there for him in the past, and he knew that you would continue to be there in the future. And with the new life growing inside him, he felt a sense of hope and happiness that he had never experienced before.

König can't wait to be the father of your child and shower him or her with endless affection and support.

[byalexisness]

☆none like you

Eita Otoya x fem! reader

anonymous asked: hii!!! first i just wanna say that im in LOVE with how u write and how u portray the boys as yanderes sm!! like i just cannot stop rereading ur stories secondly i wanted to request one for otoya eita? where like: at first he treated reader like another fling, but when he notices that reader doesn't come running after him like the rest; he tries to get reader to like do that, but then becomes obsessed with reader in the process? im not sure if my request is understandable but i hope it is!! (ÓÓ) p.s no rush! u can take as long as u want, idm the wait!! <33

hiii, i'm really sorry for my absence and for the fact that this took so so so long and it's honestly so disappointing :(( i had no motivation to write and no ideas :( and i REALLY appreciate your love ty bby <3 content warning: yandere behavior, stalking, implied violence (not towards the reader)

at first, you were like the rest. a normal college girl, with your cute uniform and average grades, you didn't stand out in any way.

for him, you were just a...meh. he didn't really pay attention to you, just knowing you existed as his classmate, just another woman.

that's all he thought you were...

...until one day, when he tried to hit up on you and got a little surprise. instead of blushing, stuttering and acting like a high-school girl whose first crush interacted with her, you did...nothing, basically.

the conversation still replays in his mind to this day.

you were sitting in the college classroom, headphones on your head as you peacefully scrolled through your phone.

"well, hello there, cutie." he started with the same thing he tells every single girl, which, usually, makes them flustered.

you looked at him and, after blinking confused, you seemed to...cringe. as if it creeped you out to be flirted with.

"hello?" you greeted back, confused. "can i help you?"

"yeah, perhaps...you could..." he said as he leaned on your table. "...give me your number?"

blinking confused again, you cocked a brow. after a slight scoff, you shook your head.

"i'm not interested."

that was not the reaction he expected, at all.

and the fact that it didn't only happen once, but twice made it even worse.

eita was so used to girl chasing him that, when his advances got rejected, he felt hurt.

not in his heart, but in his ego.

you hurt his fragile ego so, you could only pay the price, right? and what better way to pay him back was there to exist rather than just straight up making you obsessed with him? just like any other girl, you have to fall for his charms, right?

right?

absolutely wrong.

during his weeks of continually chasing after you, by easily inserting himself into your small friendgroup, following you around, sitting next to you in every class you shared (simply making it that you two spend as much time togheter as possible), his whole plan went down the hill.

instead of having you become obsessed with him, he became obsessed with you.

it was just something about your appearance, about how you walked, about your voice...about you, overall, that made him lose his mind.

eita had no idea how and why did it happen, but he paid it no mind. he gaslit himself that he wasn't obsessed, that everything was just a part of his plan to make you love him so he could hurt your feelings.

not even karasu ever saw him like this.

that, until he found himself secretly beating up every boy that flirted with you or every person that generally upseted you...even if it was a simple reply that bothered you in your conversation with you.

he knew your schedule by heart, he knew where you went most of the time. he had dozens of photos of you kept in a secret compartiment of his room.

it was...concerning, really. and he knew it well enough.

and when he found out about what his best friend was up to, karasu tried to warn him... he really tried to convince otoya that his behavior was absolutely not normal. but to no use.

nothing and nobody could break otoya out of the spell you unknowingly put him under.

it was twisted and sick but he was in love.

deeply.

and it wouldn't end too pretty for you either.