#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.

[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”

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Twenty-Two: Threshold

Chapter WC: 12,753

Chapter Warnings: drama lite, alcohol use

A/N: Posting this chapter early before I disappear for a bit! Next chapter will probably be out after Christmas. Sorry in advance for the ending 🙈

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Coruscant, 21 BBY

"Hey! You're alive!" Ahsoka says as she rushes towards you. 

You barely step out of your room before she tackles you, the force of her embrace knocking the wind out of you. You stumble backwards and hit the wall, the breath leaving your lungs in a rush as her arms wrap around your neck. You gasp for air and try to shove her away, but her grip is firm, and you're forced to wait until she decides to release you.

"Missed you, too," you manage to choke out.

She laughs and pulls away, her hands landing on your shoulders, her face inches from yours. Her eyes scan you, taking in every inch, every detail.

"Why didn't you comm? I thought something happened to you," she scolds, and she finally releases you, her arms falling to her sides. "Master Kenobi said you were fine, but he wouldn't tell me anything. Said it wasn't his place. So, what's going on?"

"Um," you start. You aren't sure how much Anakin's told her, or Obi-Wan, if they've told her anything at all, and you hesitate, unsure of how much to share. You don't want her to know the extent of your...difficulties. It's better that she doesn't. Besides, you're not really sure what to say.

"Are you okay?" she presses, her voice filled with concern. "What happened?"

"I'm fine. Really," you assure her, and her eyes narrow, clearly unconvinced. You sigh and shake your head. "Obi-Wan and I had a...fight. About me receiving my own command. He was worried about me, and it didn't go well. That's all."

"Why would he be worried about that?" Ahsoka asks, her tone curious. "Everyone knows you're a great fighter. The Council wouldn't have given you a brigade if they didn't think you could handle it."

"Yeah, well, Obi-Wan's a worrier," you say, and your stomach churns. It's not entirely a lie, but it's not completely true, either. "You know how he is."

"That's true," she admits. "He does like to fret. Especially about you."

"Yeah," you mutter, and a pang of guilt shoots through your chest. You shove it down, forcing yourself to move past it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or him. I was just...upset. I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay. We all get upset sometimes," she says, her voice softening. She smiles and shakes her head, her hands reaching out, grasping yours. "Glad you're back, though. I've missed having someone around here who doesn't talk in riddles all day."

"Thanks," you mutter, and you manage a weak smile. Ahsoka's eyes narrow, and her fingers squeeze yours, her grip tightening.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you say quickly. "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep very well last night."

"You seem...different. Than when you left." She glances away, and her voice drops. "Something happened, didn't it?"

"A lot of things happened," you say dryly.

"Something big," Ahsoka presses. She looks back, her eyes meeting yours. "What is it?"

"Nothing," you say, but you know she won't believe it. You clear your throat and take a deep breath, straightening yourself. "We should talk about it. Later. Just...not right now. Okay?"

"Okay," she agrees reluctantly. Her eyes linger on you for a moment, and she squeezes your hand once more before releasing you. "Fine."

"Where's Anakin? I thought he was going to be here," you ask in a blatant attempt to change the subject. It works, and her expression lightens, her posture relaxing.

"He is. He's just late, as usual," she says, rolling her eyes. "He sent me to bring you to the hangar. And to make sure you don’t run away again. He's worried about you."

"Right," you sigh. You glance back into your room, checking to make sure you haven't forgotten anything, and you shut off the lights. Your room is in a better state this morning, but you’re still careful to block the doorway from Ashoka’s view. The last thing you need is her finding out about your mess. "Is Rex here, too?"

"Yeah," she replies. "He's waiting with Anakin. He seemed anxious, more than usual."

"I'll bet," you mutter, your hands flexing and unflexing at your sides. You've spent most of last night worrying about your meeting, wondering what it will be like, and you can feel a flutter in your chest, a knot forming in your stomach. You try to push back against it, but it doesn't go away.

"Come on," Ahsoka says. She reaches out and grabs your arm, tugging you towards the hallway. "We're gonna be late. If we're lucky, we might even beat Anakin."

"Let's hope," you chuckle.

Ahsoka laughs, and she turns, pulling you along. The two of you hurry through the temple, weaving through the corridors, passing the other Jedi as they go about their business. They ignore you, lost in their own thoughts, and you can't help but wonder how many of them have heard. How many of them know. If any of them do, they don't say anything. For once in your life, you’re grateful for their silence.

The further you walk, the greater your anxiety grows. The halls become emptier, more barren, and you can feel the tension building, your shoulders tensing. You're almost there. Almost to the hangar. Almost to Rex.

The last time you saw him, you had hugged him goodbye and promised you would update him on the Council meeting. He had given you a small smile and wished you luck, and then, he was gone. You haven't spoken since. You've spent a week apart, and in that time, everything has changed. Everything.

A part of you wants to turn back. To go home and crawl into bed and pretend like nothing happened. Pretend like this never happened. Pretend like you don't care. Pretend like you haven't been thinking about him, wondering what he's doing, how he's feeling. Pretend like you haven't been obsessing over every touch, replaying every word, every smile, over and over and over.

You can't do that.

"You alright?" Ahsoka asks. Her eyes meet yours, and her brows raise. "You look like you're going to throw up."

“Did he say anything?” you ask, and her head tilts to one side, her mouth scrunching.

"Anakin? About what?"

"No," you say, shaking your head. "Rex. Did he...say anything about me?"

"Not really," she says slowly. She's watching you, her expression thoughtful. "He asked where you were. Wanted to know if I'd heard from you. When I told him you were out of contact, he said, 'Oh,' and that was it. Why?"

"I...I don't know. Just, making sure," you mumble, and you can feel her eyes on you, burning holes in the side of your head. You keep moving, focusing on the path ahead, trying not to think about it. "I was just wondering."

"What's going on?" she presses. She comes to a sudden stop, forcing you to do the same as her hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist. "Wait. You're nervous."

"No, I'm not," you say quickly, and her eyebrows rise, a look of disbelief flashing across her face.

"Yes, you are," she argues. She tugs on your wrist, turning you towards her. She studies you, her gaze moving across your face, her mouth turning down. "I don't think I've ever seen you this nervous. Is there something I should know?"

"I'm not nervous," you protest. You try to free your arm from her grip, but her hold tightens, her fingers digging into your skin.

"Yes, you are," she presses. She leans in, her eyes narrowing.

"I'm not,” you snap.

"You are," she insists. "I can see it."

"Well, you're seeing things."

"Uh-huh," she says, her voice doubtful. Her mouth twists, and her fingers tighten around your wrist. "He’s been acting strange, too, you know. Ever since we got back. He kept checking his datapad, waiting for a message. Any time I ask, he says he's fine, and he shoves it back into his pocket. But, I've seen him staring at it."

Your mouth closes, and you bite your lip, unable to form a reply. Your stomach twists, and the fluttering sensation increases, spreading outward, until your whole body feels like it's vibrating. It would be easier to deny it, to play it off as nothing, but you can't find the words, and the silence that follows is deafening, a heavy weight falling over the both of you.

The two of you stand there, frozen in place, neither of you saying a word. After a moment, Ahsoka's grip loosens, and her fingers drop, her hands falling to her sides.

"Are you two—" she starts, but you cut her off, speaking over her.

"We should go. Anakin's waiting."

You pull away and move around her, continuing down the hall.

Ahsoka lets out a frustrated huff and runs after you, catching up within seconds. You're grateful for her shorter stride, and you can't help but speed up, hoping to outpace her. It's a futile effort, and she easily matches your pace, her feet matching yours step for step.

"So, there is something going on," she says. Her tone is accusatory, and her head whips towards you, her eyes widening. "There is! I knew it!"

"No, there's not," you argue. You pick up your pace, but she's faster, and she manages to stay right next to you. "There's nothing. Nothing. Okay?"

"You're lying," she accuses, and her lips twist, her head shaking. "I can't believe you. What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you repeat.

"Really?" she scoffs, and her voice is filled with skepticism. "Because, from where I'm standing, it looks a lot like something. It looks a lot like—"

"Like what?" you challenge, and you finally come to a stop, your gaze landing on her. You can feel your face flushing, and your jaw clenches, your mouth tightening. "Say it. Tell me. What is it?"

Ahsoka's mouth opens, and her lips move, trying to form a response. You watch her gaze flick around the empty hall, checking to see if anyone is around, before finally landing back on you. Her voice is lowered, her tone serious. "Are you two together? Is that what this is?"

"No," you reply, and you immediately wince. It comes out too fast, too quick, and you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax. You have to calm down. To control yourself. Otherwise, you're going to make things worse. Much, much worse. "No, we're not. We're not together. It's not like that."

"What is it like, then?" she asks.

"We're friends," you answer, and her eyebrow raises, a hint of amusement crossing her face. You glare at her, your voice rising. "We are. Really. That's all. There's nothing going on."

"Okay," she says, holding up her hands. "I believe you. I just...don't understand. He's acting really weird. And, so are you."

"I'm not acting weird," you protest. "I'm just nervous. About meeting my men."

"Okay," she says, her mouth turning down, a crease forming on her forehead. "Fine. If you say so."

You stare at her, taking in her skeptical expression, and you let out a sigh, shaking your head. "Listen. You know me. Do you honestly think I would be involved with him? With anyone? In a million years?"

Ahsoka thinks about it for a moment, and then shrugs, her expression shifting. "No. I guess not.”

“And Rex would never risk his position. Not like that. Not for anyone," you continue, and her lips purse, her eyes darting away. "He's not that kind of man."

"Right," she mutters.

"Right," you agree. You take a deep breath and exhale slowly, trying to release some of your tension. But your words don't help. If anything, they make things worse. The pit in your stomach deepens, and a wave of guilt washes over you. 

Because that's not entirely true. Rex is that kind of man. A good man. He would risk everything for someone he loved. For someone he cared about. And a part of you knows, without uncertainty or question, that he cares about you. He cares about you more than you care about yourself. More than he should. Much more than he should.

Rex has risked everything for you. More than once. He's risked his career, his reputation, his life. All for you. And he's done it without hesitation, without asking for anything in return. He's done it because he believes in you. Because he cares about you. He's put his trust in you, and he's supported you, and he's been by your side, every step of the way. Even when you didn't deserve it. Even when you weren't worthy of it.

And you shut him out. You pushed him away.

You've been so worried about what would happen, what everyone would say, what everyone would think, that you didn't stop to consider his feelings. Or yours.

You haven't stopped to consider what you want. Not really. What you want from him, from yourself, from this. Not once.

A sudden realization hits you.

This isn't fair. Not to either of you. You need to talk to him.

"Come on," Ahsoka says, her hand reaching out and grabbing yours. "Anakin's going to be furious if we're late."

You nod, and she pulls you forward, continuing down the hall. The two of you walk in silence, and the anxiety fades, replaced by a sense of determination. Your mind races, turning over every possible scenario, and you run through a list of ways to begin a conversation, discarding each one as soon as you think of it. By the time you reach the hangar, you've settled on the most basic approach, and you're mentally preparing yourself for whatever might happen next.

As soon as your eyes land on Rex, though, all thoughts disappear.

His back is to you, and he's standing with Anakin, talking about something, their voices low. They're facing one of the gunships getting ready to take off, and Anakin is gesturing, his arm waving back and forth, his expression animated. It's obvious that he's telling a story, and Rex is listening, his attention focused entirely on Anakin's face, nodding along to whatever it is that he's saying.

The sight sends a pang of longing through your chest, and you pause, staring at the back of his head, watching the muscles of his neck flex and tense. The urge to run to him, wrap your arms around him, and bury your face in his neck is overwhelming, and your hands twitch at your sides, resisting the temptation.

It's been less than a week since you last saw him, but it feels like so much longer. Like an eternity.

And he's right there.

Anakin’s gaze shifts over Rex’s shoulder, and his eyes lock onto yours, a smirk forming on his lips. He turns to Rex and claps his arm as he leans in, his words too soft to hear. Rex suddenly tenses and snaps his head up, turning toward the door, his gaze searching the room until his eyes land on you.

Your stomach flips and a lump forms in your throat, and all of your carefully rehearsed speeches disappear, forgotten, lost to the ether. For a moment, neither of you move. Neither of you say anything. The two of you stare at each other, drinking in every detail, taking in every nuance. You can feel his relief as much as you can see it in the set of his shoulders and the curve of his mouth and the warmth in his eyes.

After what feels like an eternity, a small smile forms on his face, and Rex dips his head slightly in acknowledgement. "General."

"Captain," you respond automatically. The words are awkward and stiff. Formal. Too formal. You grimace and clear your throat before correcting yourself. "Rex."

"You're back," he says.

"I am," you nod. You take a few steps towards him, and the two of you continue staring at each other, the tension between the two of you increasing with each passing second. An awkward silence descends over the group as Rex continues to look at you with an intense gaze, and you shift your weight, the silence becoming almost unbearable until Anakin lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

"Well, this is fun," he says dryly as he looks between you. "Anyone else want to say something? Ahsoka?"

"Nope," she says, shaking her head. "I'm good."

“Great. Then, we can go," he announces, and he steps around Rex, heading towards one of the gunships. “Come on, Goldie. It's time to meet your men."

"You heard him. Let's go," Ahsoka says, nudging your arm.

"Right," you mutter, and you follow after her, your steps slow and measured. You glance over at Rex as he falls into step beside you. He's silent, his mouth turned down, and he keeps his eyes forward, his gaze straight ahead.

You want to speak. To tell him that you're sorry. To tell him that you missed him. To tell him how much you've thought about him. But, you can't. Not here. Not with Ahsoka and Anakin. So, you remain silent, your throat closing, a tightness forming in your chest.

It's going to be a long day.

The four of you climb aboard, and Anakin settles into his seat, leaning back, his feet propped up. Ahsoka plops down next to him, pulling out her datapad and tapping away. You take a seat across from them, and Rex sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. You suck in a sharp breath at the contact, and your heart leaps, a tingle running down your spine.

Rex glances at you, his eyes locking onto yours, and a wave of emotions hit you. Concern. Relief. Confusion. Frustration.

He's upset with you. He has every right to be.

But, he doesn't move away. He doesn't pull back.

His body remains still, pressed against yours, his thigh rubbing against your own.

And, even though it's wrong, and you shouldn't, even though Anakin and Ahsoka are sitting right there, even though everyone is watching, you lean into him slightly, savoring his touch.

He sighs, and his hand brushes your knee as he adjusts his position. It’s a brief touch, enough to be considered accidental, and he quickly pulls his hand away, placing it on his lap. His thumb rubs circles on his palm, and his fingers flex, stretching, and then relaxing, again and again.

You try to keep your attention on Anakin, listening as he continues his story. But it's impossible. Your eyes keep drifting to Rex, taking in every detail, every movement. Every twitch. Every shift.

After a few minutes, his hand drops to his side, landing on his leg. He stretches his arm out, and his fingers brush your hand, his knuckles grazing your skin.

You look at him out of the corner of your eye. He's still looking forward, his face expressionless.

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and closes around his. You give it a quick squeeze, and then, before he can react, you pull away.

You wait for a response. A signal. A sign. Something. Anything. But nothing comes.

The ride is short. Too short. Before you're ready, the ship is descending, the engine powering down as the landing gear touches down. The doors open, and Anakin and Ahsoka rush out, both eager to escape the tense atmosphere of the gunship.

Rex stands at the same time as you, but he waits until you're in front of him before moving towards the door. His hand lands on your lower back, guiding you, and a thrill shoots through your body, sending goosebumps up your spine. The unexpected touch nearly forces you to stumble when you step out of the ship, your boot hitting a raised portion of the gangway. You catch yourself, and Rex grabs your elbow, steadying you, his hand lingering for a moment before releasing you.

"You okay?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah," you mutter, and your eyes dart around, taking in the hangar. "I'm fine. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he murmurs, his tone flat. You glance at him, and his jaw is clenched, his mouth drawn into a thin line.

He's upset.

You can feel the tension between the two of you, and you can't tell if he's mad, or frustrated, or hurt, or what.

All you know is that it's your fault.

Rex moves forward, and you fall into step beside him, walking in silence. The air is cool and crisp, and it smells faintly of fuel, a pungent, acidic smell that hangs in the recycled air. The hangar is busy, full of clones rushing about, performing maintenance and loading supplies. There are gunships, shuttles, and dozens of fighter ships parked in neat rows, all waiting to be used. It's a sight you're still not used to, and the thought of soon having not just one, but three such ships at your disposal as soon as you reach Kamino is almost overwhelming.

Anakin leads the way, his long strides quickly bringing him to the end of the hangar, and Ahsoka is close behind, her head turning this way and that, taking in the activity. You follow, and Rex walks beside you, keeping his distance, his hands folded behind his back. The four of you wind through the hangar, weaving between groups of clones, all of them wearing their distinctive blue and white armor. A few nod or wave as the group passes by, their helmets tucked under their arms, but most ignore the Jedi and carry on with their work, focused on their tasks.

Once you're through the hangar doors and inside the main corridor, the crowds thin, and Rex slows, his hand reaching out to grasp your elbow. Anakin looks over his shoulder and nods, and he and Ahsoka keep moving, leaving the two of you alone in the empty hall.

You come to a stop and turn to face him, and his fingers slide down before falling away.

"General," Rex starts, his voice formal and stiff. His shoulders are squared, and his arms are locked at his sides. "It's good to see you again, sir. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your quarters."

Your brow furrows in confusion, but you try not to let it show. It's not your first time on the ship, far from it, and the walk to the quarters is one you've taken many times before. Still, you follow after him, matching his pace, keeping a small distance between the two of you.

As you walk, you steal small glances at him, taking in the way his hand is twitching, the way his fingers are drumming against his leg. You can tell he wants to say something as much as you do, and you try to think of a way to start the conversation, to break the ice, but nothing comes to mind, and the two of you remain quiet until Rex lets out a small sigh and clasps his hands behind his back.

"So," he says finally, his voice low. "I heard about your promotion. Congratulations."

You grimace and duck your head. "Thanks. It...wasn't what I expected."

"It rarely is," he agrees. He pauses and turns his head, meeting your gaze. His expression softens, his brow furrowing, and his tone turns gentle. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," you answer. You bite the inside of your cheek and look away, breaking eye contact. "It's fine."

"No," he says firmly. His voice is filled with frustration, and his hand shoots out, grabbing yours and squeezing tightly, pulling you to a stop. "I'm not asking about the damn promotion. I'm asking how you are."

Your heart skips, and you can't help but stare, caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor. You open your mouth, about to reply, when a group of clones passes by, their footsteps echoing off the metal floors. Rex lets go of your hand and steps back, returning their salutes with a nod, and you do the same, your mind racing, your body frozen in place.

When the last clone passes, his hand moves to the small of your back, pressing against it as he guides you forward. His touch is firm, but gentle, and he keeps his pace slow, letting you set the speed, matching his steps to yours.

"You should've commed," he murmurs.

"I know," you mumble. Your throat is tight, and you swallow, forcing yourself to continue. "I'm sorry. I should have. I know."

"What happened?" he asks, barely audible. His eyes scan the empty hall, making sure no one is around. When he's satisfied, he continues. "I was worried about you."

"You don't have to worry," you insist.

"Yeah," he scoffs. "That's not going to happen. No matter how much you want it to."

"Rex," you protest, and your stomach twists, a pang of guilt shooting through your chest. "You don't...you shouldn't...I mean, it's not..." You trail off, unable to find the right words, and your hands move to your belt, fiddling with the hilt of your lightsaber.

"Not what?" he presses. "It's not my business? Not my problem?"

"No. Yes," you mutter. You shake your head and take a deep breath, gathering yourself. "I don't know."

He watches you, his eyes scanning your face, taking in every detail. He sighs and shakes his head, his hand dropping away to activate the panel outside the lift. The doors open with a hiss and he waits, motioning for you to enter first.

You hesitate, and his hand reaches out, brushing against your hip, urging you forward. You step inside, and he follows, the door sliding shut behind him. His thumb presses the button for your floor, and the elevator begins to rise, the cables whirring softly.

"I know I don't have to," he says finally, his voice low and rough. He looks away, staring at the wall. "I know that. I don't care."

"You should," you argue weakly. "You should care."

"Well, I don't," Rex counters. His head turns, and his eyes lock onto yours, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You should know that by now."

"Yeah, I guess I should." 

You hold his gaze for a moment before looking away, unable to handle the intensity of his stare. Your hand returns to your belt, fidgeting with the hilt of your lightsaber, and a heavy silence falls over the lift, the only sound coming from the machinery as the elevator continues its slow ascent.

"I...I'm sorry," you say finally. "For worrying you. For making you worry."

"It's okay," he replies softly.

"It's not," you counter. Your hands clench into fists at your sides and your gaze moves to the floor. "It's not. You're...you're important. You didn't deserve that. Any of it. I should've called. I should've checked in. I should've—"

"Hey," he interrupts, and his hand lands on your arm, his fingers gripping your bicep, pulling you toward him. "It's okay."

You turn toward him, and his hands slide to your shoulders, holding you firmly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles through the thick material of your tunic. Rex's head dips down to meet your gaze, and his eyes move across your face, searching.

"It's okay," Rex repeats softly. His eyes flick down and then up again, and a small smile tugs at his lips, his fingers squeezing gently. "I'm glad you're back."

You nod and force a small smile, and he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. You hesitate and then return the gesture, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in, the familiar scent filling your lungs, calming you. His hand moves up and down your back, rubbing it soothingly, and his cheek rests against the side of your head, his lips brushing against your hair.

"I missed you," you whisper, the words barely audible. It's the first time you've said them aloud, the first time you've allowed yourself to admit them, even to yourself, and you cling to him, savoring the warmth of his body, the comfort of his touch.

His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Me too."

Your heart leaps, and you pull away, looking up at him, taking in the softness of his expression, the tenderness in his eyes. A lump forms in your throat, a sudden sense of vulnerability washing over you.

"Rex," you start, and the rest of your words die on your tongue. You swallow, trying to speak, but nothing comes out, and your mouth snaps shut.

The elevator door slides open, and the moment is gone. Rex jerks away and takes a quick step back, putting distance between the two of you, and you take a steadying breath, willing yourself to calm down. The hallway is empty, but there's no telling who might be lurking around the corner, and you can't risk anyone seeing the two of you like this.

Rex steps out into the hall and looks back, checking to make sure you're following. You nod, and he moves ahead, leading the way, his hands once again clasped behind his back.

"I have your new quarters set up," he says as you fall into step beside him. "General Skywalker and Commander Tano will be down the hall, but you'll have some privacy. I thought you would appreciate that."

"Yeah," you mumble. "Thank you."

"They're not as nice as the ones you had before," he continues. His tone is flat, and he keeps his gaze fixed forward, not once glancing at you. "But, they're functional."

"I'm sure they're perfect," you assure him.

"Right," he nods. "Anyway, there's a briefing packet in your quarters. It has everything you'll need to know about your new command. I know it's a lot, but I'll be here to answer any questions you have."

"Very thoughtful of you," you say, a small smile playing on your lips. "I didn't think you could get any more organized."

He snorts and gives you a sideways glance. "Well, someone around here has to be."

You laugh, and the tension eases, the two of you slipping back into the familiar rhythm of banter and teasing, the same way you've done countless times before. You can't help but notice that there's an underlying sense of something more beneath the surface, an intimacy that's not quite the same as it was before. But it's subtle enough to be easily disregarded, and the two of you make small talk, discussing the ship, the crew, the new assignments, the upcoming battle on Bothawui. It's a pleasant distraction from the stress of your current situation, and by the time the two of you reach your rooms, you're almost relaxed. Almost.

Rex opens the door, and you step inside, taking in the space. It's a simple room, furnished with a bed, a small table and chair, and a built-in closet. It's not as large as your last room, but the large window that spans the wall more than makes up for any perceived lack of space. It's a stunning view, and you walk toward it, peering out at the stars and ships that fill the vastness of space above Coruscant.

"What do you think?" Rex asks from behind you. His voice is hesitant, and you can feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting.

"It's beautiful, Rex."

"Good," he says, relief evident in his tone. "I'm glad."

"You know me so well," you joke, and he laughs, a low rumble that sends a shiver through you. You turn and smile at him over your shoulder, and he smiles back, his expression softening.

"I try," he chuckles. His smile fades, and his gaze moves around the space, his posture stiffening. "There's, uh, also some paperwork for you. On the desk."

"Right," you mutter, and you move to cross the room towards the desk. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he says quietly.

You've only taken a step before you still, your eyes falling on a bottle of wine sitting next to a stack of datapads, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. The bottle is tall and slender, the glass a deep green, and a card is placed neatly in front of it, your name written across the front in a familiar scrawl.

"Rex," you start slowly, a note of amusement in your tone. "Why is there wine on my table?"

"Ah," he mumbles, and he rubs the back of his neck, his shoulders hunching. "I...may have had something to do with that."

You turn to face him, and his face is red, his eyes darting everywhere but at you. A laugh bubbles up, and you cover your mouth, trying to hold it back, but a small giggle escapes, and Rex's face falls, a crease forming on his forehead.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"You," you snort.

"Me?" he replies, his tone incredulous. He shakes his head, his lips pursing, and he lets out a long-suffering sigh. "I knew this was a bad idea. I should've—"

"No," you cut him off. Your hand reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him toward you, and you smile at him, a warm feeling filling your chest. "I'm not laughing at you. I promise. It's just...so sweet. No one's ever given me anything like that before."

"Really?" he says skeptically. "I can't believe that."

"Well, it's true," you assure him, and he relaxes, his features softening. You let go of his arm and glance at the wine, a wave of fondness washing over you. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he murmurs. He shifts awkwardly and clears his throat. "I was worried it would be too much. But I figured you'd need it. To celebrate."

"Or to drown my sorrows," you counter dryly, and Rex scoffs and shakes his head.

"Maybe both," he says, his tone playful.

"Definitely both," you reply, and he grins, his head ducking, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

The two of you stand in comfortable silence, and your eyes meet his, a warm tingle running through your body at the intensity of his gaze. Rex swallows and clears his throat, his hand reaching up to adjust the collar of his shirt.

"I should, uh, leave. Let you get settled," he says. His eyes move to the door, and his head turns slightly, his shoulders stiffening. "If you need anything, just comm me. I'll see you at the briefing later."

"Of course," you nod, and he steps back, heading for the door. When he reaches it, he pauses, glancing over his shoulder at you. You can see the conflict in his eyes. You know what he's feeling, and it's the same thing you're feeling. It's a question. And it's one you're not sure how to answer.

"Rex."

His brow furrows, his head turning to face you. You take a deep breath, summoning your courage, and speak before you can second-guess yourself. 

“You’re not going to make me drink alone, are you?”

His eyes widen in surprise, and he blinks once, twice, before breaking out into a small smile, a light chuckle leaving his lips.

"No, sir. I wouldn't dream of it," he says, the teasing lilt in his tone bringing a smile to your face. "I'll uh, come by after the briefing. We can...talk. If that's okay."

"Yeah," you breathe. "That's okay."

Rex nods and gives you a quick grin before disappearing out the door. As soon as he's gone, your smile disappears, and your shoulders slump, the weight of your responsibilities hitting you all at once. It's been a long week. One of the worst weeks of your life, and you're exhausted, your mind racing, your emotions stretched thin. But the thought of spending more time with Rex is a welcome distraction, and it helps take the edge off, giving you something to look forward to.

You walk over to the desk and pick up the card, studying the handwriting on the front. It's a simple message, written in bold, blocky letters, but the sight of his handwriting brings a smile to your face, and you open the card, reading the brief message inside.

Congratulations. You deserve this.

Yours,

Rex

The words make your heart flutter, and a wave of affection washes over you, making you feel light-headed and giddy. You've never seen him write, never known he could, and the thought of him sitting down, taking the time to put these words down on flimsi, fills you with an overwhelming sense of tenderness.

It's not the first time he's made you feel this way, but it's the first time he's done it knowingly, and the realization sends a rush of heat through your body, a tingling sensation running through you, making your heart race and your palms sweat. It's a feeling you've felt before, a feeling you've tried to ignore, and you've always pushed it down, buried it, pretended like it didn't exist.

But, it does. And now, the thought of him coming back later, the thought of being alone with him, fills you with an excitement and anticipation you haven't felt in a long time.

You want to be with him. You've wanted to be with him for months. And if you're honest with yourself, a part of you has always known it would come to this. The two of you have been growing closer for months, spending more and more time together, and it's gotten to the point where it's difficult to imagine your life without him in it. You've found yourself thinking about him constantly, wondering what he's doing, worrying about him, and every time he walks into a room, your stomach flutters, and your heart pounds, and a surge of affection rushes through you, making you dizzy and breathless and stupid, and—

“Force,” you mutter. You drop the card on the desk and place a hand on your forehead, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. This isn't the time for this. You're supposed to be figuring out how to run an entire fleet of starships and troops and a thousand other things that require your full attention. This isn't the time to get lost in fantasies or wishful thinking.

But, even as you think it, a part of you doesn't care. 

You’ve already proven yourself a failure when it comes to focusing on the important things. Why stop now?

With a frustrated sigh, you drop your pack on the bed and open it, taking out the clothes you’d hastily packed the day before. Everything is wrinkled, and a few pieces are torn, a reminder of how stressed you'd been. You can't help but roll your eyes and mutter a string of curses under your breath. You've spent an entire week on edge, and the last thing you need is to start your journey off with a reminder of how truly unstable you are.

With a shake of your head, you quickly fold the items and place them in the empty drawers, smoothing out the wrinkles and straightening the edges. It doesn't take long, and you're done within minutes, the only item left is Yaddle’s lightsaber.

Your fingers run over the cool metal, the engraved symbols rough beneath your skin. You lift it, holding it up to the light, studying the intricate designs. It's a beautiful piece, and a sense of calm settles over you, a faint buzzing sensation traveling up your arms and spreading throughout your body.

For the first time since the meeting with the Council, you can finally breathe.

It's not the end of the world.

You have a plan. And even though it's a bit crazy, even though it's more than a bit complicated, and even though there are a thousand ways for everything to go wrong, it's a start. A solid beginning.

And that's enough.

You turn and place the lightsaber on the desk, next to the wine bottle, and a small smile crosses your face. The sight of them together is strange, but comforting, and you can't help but laugh. Rex has a habit of bringing out the unexpected in you, and the fact that he's managed to do it even in your darkest moments is something you'll never stop being grateful for.

"Oh," you mutter.

That's a dangerous thought.

With a deep sigh, you check your appearance in the mirror and head to the briefing, doing your best not to think about what might happen later.

Later turns out to be after dinner.

The meeting is long and exhausting, and by the time the briefing ends, you're ready for a shower and a bed. But, Anakin and Ahsoka are still going over the battle plans, and there's no way you're going to interrupt them. So, you take a seat beside Rex, listening, adding a comment here and there, until finally, the meeting ends and everyone disperses, heading off to get some rest.

Rex stands and stretches, and the two of you make small talk, exchanging pleasantries and discussing the upcoming mission. But when the room is empty, and the two of you are alone, he glances at you and tilts his head toward the door, his eyebrow raising in a silent question. You nod, and he leads the way, guiding you back to your quarters, the two of you walking in silence.

The ship is quiet and dimly lit, the lights in the hallways turned down for the night cycle. It reminds you of the last time the two of you walked the Resolute’s halls toward your quarters. Much has changed since he escorted you back from the medbay that night, but the small glances and subtle touches are still the same, and the familiarity makes you smile, a warm feeling spreading through your chest.

When the two of you arrive at your room, Rex stops and waits for you to enter first. You press the keypad and step inside, and he follows, the door sliding shut behind him. Once the door closes, he takes a deep breath and rubs his face, and the exhaustion hits you at the same time, a heavy weariness settling in your bones. The stress and strain of the past few days has caught up with both of you, and the two of you look at each other, both letting out a tired laugh.

"Long day," he says with a rueful smile.

"Very long," you agree.

You move to the closet and hang up your outer robe, and Rex stands still in the center of the room. His posture is stiff, and you can tell he's nervous, his thoughts racing, his fingers drumming against his knee.

He's not the only one.

“I’m going to go change into something more comfortable," you tell him as you slip off your boots and toss them in the closet. "Why don't you open the wine?"

"Uh, sure," he mutters, and he clears his throat, nodding to himself. "Yeah, I can do that."

"I'll be right back," you say, and you disappear into the small refresher, closing the door behind you.

You lean against the sink and stare at yourself in the mirror, taking in your messy hair, the bags under your eyes, the way your face is drawn and pale. You're a mess. No wonder he's acting so skittish. He's probably terrified of what you'll do next. Or say.

With a deep sigh, you splash water on your face and change, the sound of a cork being removed reaching your ears. By the time you've changed and stepped back out, Rex has opened the bottle, leaving it on the desk. He's standing at the window, watching the blue-white streaks of hyperspace passing by the ship, his back to you.

You walk over and stop next to him, glancing at his face, taking in the sharp angles and strong lines, the stubble along his jaw, the crease between his brows, the slight downward turn of his mouth. His expression is a mix of concentration and uncertainty, and you can tell he's deep in thought, trying to find the right words.

"Hey," you murmur, and he starts slightly. His gaze moves to yours and his expression softens, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Hey," he says softly. His gaze moves down and then up, his eyes lingering on your face before they flick back to the stars. "Nice view."

"Yeah," you agree. "It is."

"How are you doing?" he asks. His voice is low and hesitant, and his brow furrows, his lips pursed. "I mean...you know."

"I'm fine," you reply automatically.

"Don't lie," he says, his tone gentle, but firm.

"What am I supposed to say?" you mutter. Your hands move to your belt, fiddling with the buckle. "That I'm pissed? That I'm disappointed? That I'm embarrassed? Because I am."

"I get that," he says, and he turns, leaning his hip against the window, his head turning to face you. His shoulders are hunched, and his arms are crossed, and he's looking at you intently, his eyes scanning your face. "Do you want to tell me what happened? With the Council?"

"Not really," you admit. "It was stupid. I was stupid. I said some things. Made some assumptions. It's done."

"Assumptions?" he repeats.

"Nothing important," you say dismissively. The bottle of wine sitting open on your desk suddenly seems much more appealing than before, and you move toward it, searching for the right words to explain what happened.

"It was..." You trail off, trying to think of the best way to describe it, and then give up, shaking your head. "A disaster."

"A disaster?" he repeats, a note of concern in his tone. He turns fully to face you, his eyes searching your face, his lips pursed. "What did they do?"

"Nothing," you mutter.  Your hand reaches out and grips the edge of the desk, steadying yourself. "They didn't do anything. It was like all the evidence we gathered didn't even matter, and I was just wasting their time."

"They didn't listen to you," he says slowly. It's a statement, not a question, and his face is grim, his expression tense. "About Dooku."

"No, they didn't," you agree. You open your desk drawer in search of two cups and take out the ones inside. They're simple, metal mugs, but they'll work well enough for the wine. You'd drink it straight from the bottle if you could, but the thought of Rex watching you do that makes you cringe. “And I didn’t react well."

Rex's eyebrows shoot up, and he watches you, his head tilting to one side. "How badly?"

You don’t respond, your eyes focused on filling the cups with wine. You can feel his gaze burning into the back of your head, and a flush rises to your cheeks, shame and guilt and frustration swirling inside you. You set the bottle down and grab the glasses, moving toward the window, trying to avoid the question.

"How badly?" he repeats, his voice rising slightly, his tone demanding.

"Not well," you admit. "I got a little angry."

"A little?" he snorts.

"Okay, maybe more than a little," you mutter, and a small laugh leaves his lips. You turn to look at him and roll your eyes. "It's not funny."

"Sorry," he chuckles. He steps toward you and takes one of the cups. His thumb rubs over the top of the glass, and his eyebrows raise in amusement. "You have a temper. That's not exactly news to me."

"I do not," you protest, and his eyebrows rise higher, his head shaking in disbelief. "I don't!"

"Sure," he smirks.

"I don't," you insist, and he laughs again. You glare at him and let out a huff. "Fine, I do, but not...not like this."

"So, what did you do?" he asks, his expression softening, his tone becoming more serious.

"I yelled," you admit, and a grimace twists your face. "I, uh, yelled at them quite a bit, actually. Obi-Wan had to drag me out of there."

Rex's jaw drops open slightly, his eyes widening, and you look away. A hot flush of shame creeps over you at the memory of it and everything that followed. Of how quickly you lost control of yourself. Of the fear and panic and desperation that had driven you to such an extreme reaction. Of the way they looked at you afterward.

"Wow," Rex mutters.

"Yeah," you agree.

"That's..." He trails off and takes a deep breath. He turns his head toward the window and stares out into space, his hand gripping his cup tightly. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," you murmur. You swallow hard, and the room falls silent, the only sound coming from the hum of the ship's engines. "I've been an ass lately."

"Don't say that," he argues.

"It's true," you shrug. "I've been an ass to everyone. Even you. And you didn't deserve that."

"I wasn't upset," he says quietly. His hand reaches out and covers yours, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go, and the familiar touch sends a shiver up your spine. "I just didn't know what to do. Or how to help."

"There wasn't anything you could've done," you tell him. Your hands grip the cup tightly, your knuckles turning white. "I was...I'm a mess. I am a mess."

"You're not a mess," he argues. He lets out a frustrated sigh and turns to face you, his eyes locking onto yours, his expression earnest. "You're stressed. And worried. And overwhelmed. And it's understandable. Anyone would be."

"Maybe," you concede.

"I'm sorry about Yaddle," he says after a moment. "That must've been tough."

"Yeah," you say slowly. Your voice is thick, and a lump forms in your throat, a wave of grief washing over you. You try to ignore it, pushing it down, focusing on the conversation, but the tears come anyway, stinging the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision. You wipe them away with the back of your hand and force a weak smile. "Thanks."

"Of course," he says softly.

"She would've liked you," you tell him. The tears continue to fall, and you swipe at them, sniffling loudly, and his hand rests on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. You glance at him and manage a shaky smile. "She would’ve liked you a lot."

"I hope so," he murmurs. His fingers trail down your arm and then drop away, and he clears his throat, taking a step back. He holds up his cup and lifts his eyebrow. "Should we drink to her?"

"Absolutely," you chuckle.

"To Master Yaddle," he says solemnly.

"To Master Yaddle," you repeat.

The two of you clink your glasses together and drink deeply. It’s…well, it’s not the best wine you've ever had, but it's not bad, and the warmth spreads through your body, easing the tension in your muscles and dulling the ache in your bones. You watch as Rex makes a valiant effort to hide his distaste, but the sour look on his face is enough to bring a laugh to your lips. 

"It's, uh, not bad,” he mutters.

"Liar," you snort. You take another sip of your own and feel your nose wrinkle, the bitter taste coating your tongue. "Force, that's awful."

"Yeah," he nods, and his face twists into a grimace, a shiver running through him. "Sorry. I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”

"No, it's okay," you assure him. "I appreciate the effort. Really."

"I'll remember to buy some real alcohol next time," he says, and his smile widens, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He takes another sip and shudders, a groan escaping his lips. "Ugh, no. That's terrible. Why would anyone drink this?"

"Because it's cheap and effective," you tell him. Your own face screws up as the harsh flavor hits your tongue, and you take a large gulp, doing your best to hide your discomfort. "Keep drinking. It'll get better."

"It'll get worse," he corrects. His expression is skeptical as he peers at the wine, eyeing the dark liquid. "Did I buy you...poison?"

"No," you reply with a laugh. "But it'll certainly feel like it in the morning."

"Wonderful," he drawls, and you can't help but grin, his dry sarcasm sending a rush of affection through you. He looks over at your sofa and sighs. "I'm going to need to sit down for this."

"Same," you agree, and you move to settle on the couch in front of the window, grabbing the bottle as you go. Rex follows and sits next to you, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. A safe amount of distance. Just enough to remind you both where the line is. That you're not supposed to cross it. Not even now.

"So," Rex starts. He takes another sip and his face pinches. "How did things end with the Council? Did you...did you get any answers?"

"No," you admit, taking a sip of your own and fighting back a shudder. "They just kept telling me to calm down."

"And then what happened?"

You give him a wry smile and drain your cup, setting it on the table next to the sofa before leaning back, letting the alcohol hit you fully. It’s been a while since you drank, and you can already feel the effects, a light buzzing in your head, the tension in your body fading away. "Then I fought with Obi-Wan and locked myself in my room for a week. But other than that, things went great."

"You fought with Kenobi" he says slowly. His eyes widen, and his head turns, his mouth hanging open slightly. "Why would you do that?"

"Because he was being a dick," you reply sharply. The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and Rex stares at you, his brow furrowing, his lips pressing together into a thin line. You sigh and shake your head. "Sorry. It's just...during the meeting, he didn’t stand up for me. And he was acting like he knew what was best for me."

"And did he?"

"No," you mutter, and Rex raises an eyebrow, his eyes fixed on your face. "Well, maybe. I don't know. It was hard, experiencing that again. I think we tried to pretend that nothing had changed, but things did. Things are different. I'm different."

"Yeah," Rex says quietly. He sets his cup on the table and leans back, his gaze fixed on the stars outside the window. "I know what you mean."

You study his face, taking in the lines and angles, the creases in his forehead, the faint shadows beneath his eyes. He looks tired. He looks worn. And you know it's not just from today. It's everything that's happened since the start of the war. It's every battle he's fought. Every sacrifice he's made. It's been a long year. For all of you. But for him especially.

"How are you?" you ask. The question seems ridiculous when asked aloud. Of course he's not okay. None of you are. But you have to ask. You have to know. "Really."

"I'm fine," he says.

"Really?"

"No," he sighs. His shoulders slump, and his eyes close. He tilts his head back and lets out a ragged breath. "No, not really."

"I didn't think so," you murmur, and a grimace twists his face, his brow furrowing deeply, a deep sigh leaving his lips. His hand reaches up, rubbing his face, and he shakes his head, his eyes opening, staring straight ahead, unseeing, his thoughts miles away, somewhere far beyond the view of the stars that surround you.

"It's been a long year," he mutters, and you nod, unable to find the right words. "A very long year."

"Yeah," you murmur in agreement.

The silence falls between the two of you once more, the tension returning as the reality of the situation sets in. This isn't a happy reunion between friends, or a fun night out with co-workers. This is a soldier and a Jedi, two people who have known each other for months, have been fighting side by side for almost a year, and have shared more than either of them could have imagined.

This is something else.

"It'll be okay," you finally say. You’re not sure if you believe it, and you’re not one for empty reassurances, but it seems like the thing to say, and Rex looks at you, the corners of his mouth turning up in a weak smile.

"Yeah," Rex nods. "I know. We'll figure it out."

"We will," you say confidently. You reach out and cover his hand with yours. Your fingers trace the outline of his knuckles underneath his glove, and you squeeze his hand. "We always do."

"I wish things were different," he mutters. His voice is rough, his tone heavy, and your chest aches, the weight of his words hitting you. He swallows and turns his hand, his palm pressing against yours. His thumb runs over your knuckles, and he sighs, his fingers squeezing yours gently. "I wish a lot of things were different."

"Me too," you whisper, and his hand moves away, slipping out from under yours. 

Your palm feels cold without his touch, and you resist the urge to reach out, to take his hand in yours again, and pull it back to where it belongs. Where you want it to be. But you don't. Instead, you reach for the wine, pouring yourself another glass, doing your best to ignore the hollow feeling in your stomach. 

"I can't believe you gave me wine," you tease, and he snorts, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Me either," he admits. He shakes his head, his gaze returning to yours. "But I figured you'd need it."

"How are you so nice?" 

You don't mean to say it aloud, but the words slip out, and you flush, embarrassed by your question. Rex laughs and gives you a small shrug, his lips curving up into a sheepish smile.

"I'm not," he chuckles. His head tilts to the side and he studies you, his expression thoughtful. "It's  easy to be nice when it's you."

"That's..." you trail off, not quite sure how to respond.

"It's the truth," he says simply.

"Right," you nod. You take a deep breath and turn your gaze to the stars, the familiar sight of hyperspace giving you a sense of comfort, of safety. “Well, I’m lucky to have you then."

"Yeah," he murmurs, and when you glance at him out of the corner of your eye, his eyes sparkling, and a small laugh escapes his lips. "You are."

You let out a huff and elbow him in the ribs, and he laughs louder, his hands shooting up, holding them in front of his chest defensively.

“I can’t believe you. I’m trying to be nice!” you say indignantly.

"Nice," Rex scoffs. He rolls his eyes and drains his glass, his shoulders shaking with mirth, and the sight makes you smile, a warm, tingling sensation rushing through you. “Since when are you nice?"

"Always," you say with a dramatic huff. You stick your nose in the air and take a sip of your wine, glaring at him over the top of your cup.

"Not always," he snickers. "Remember the first time we met?"

“Not this again,” you groan, and his grin widens, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. You can't help but roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Fine. Yes. I wasn't nice."

"That’s an understatement," he laughs. He shakes his head and pours another glass of wine, filling it to the brim, his head turning to look at you. "I thought you were going to stab me."

"I still might," you retort dryly. Rex snorts and lifts the cup to his lips, drinking deeply. You watch as his throat bobs, a flush rising to his cheeks. When he lowers his cup, his expression is somber, his smile fading, and he clears his throat, shifting slightly on the sofa.

“You were the first Jedi I’d ever met," he says quietly. His fingers run over the rim of his cup, his gaze focused on the liquid inside, his brow furrowed. "The first human outside of the trainers I’d ever met, actually. And you were...not what I expected."

"Oh?" you prompt. You can't help but wonder what he's thinking. What he's feeling. The two of you have grown close, have become good friends, but there's a part of him that's always been guarded, a part of him that's kept hidden, and it's those parts of him that interest you the most.

"You were so..." Rex trails off, his eyes flicking to yours. He takes a deep breath and holds your gaze. "Stubborn. And angry. You were furious. At everyone and everything."

"I was," you admit.

"I didn't know what to make of you," he says slowly. He shifts closer, his body angling towards yours. "You were so different from what I was expecting. I was told about the Jedi. About how wise and kind and serene they were. And then I met you."

"And?"

"And I thought you were crazy," he replies.

You let out a small laugh and take another drink. You'd had your own opinions about him when the two of you first met, and while his assessment of your personality isn't wrong, it's not entirely accurate either. You were scared and confused, and you took it out on him. It wasn't fair. To either of you. But you've learned a lot since then. About the war. About yourself. About him.

"Maybe I am," you say lightly. Rex chuckles and shakes his head.

"You're not crazy," he corrects. "You're...passionate."

"Is that a nice way of saying stubborn?" you tease. Rex smiles and lifts his shoulder in a half shrug. "You were just as bad."

"Yeah," he nods.

"You were rude," you say pointedly. "And sarcastic. And infuriating."

"Sorry," he mutters.

"I liked it," you add, and he looks at you in surprise, his eyebrows raising. You smirk and tilt your head to the side. "You didn’t take any of my shit, and you were funny. I liked that."

"Really?"

"Yes," you insist. You take another sip and try to keep your tone even, to hide the excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. "I still do."

"I'm glad," he says quietly. There's an undercurrent of something else in his tone. Something deeper and darker and more complicated than anything the two of you have talked about. His eyes move to the wine and then back to you, a hint of regret flickering across his features. "I wasn't trying to insult you. I was just...I wasn't prepared."

"For me?"

"For you," he confirms. He drains his glass and sets it on the table next to the sofa. His hand falls to his lap, and he stares down at it, his fingers tapping restlessly against his leg. "I'd never met anyone like you before."

"What does that mean?" you ask. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing, and a hint of a smile crosses his face.

"You were..." He trails off, and his expression turns thoughtful, his eyes drifting away from yours, his gaze fixed on some distant memory. "You were fearless. You didn't care what anyone thought. You were strong and determined and fierce. And I..."

He breaks off and shakes his head. A small chuckle leaves his lips, and his eyes meet yours, the intensity in them making you shiver.

“I was in awe of you,” he says softly. “I thought you were the most incredible person I'd ever seen. And yeah, I thought you were a little scary, but...in a good way."

"Scary?" you repeat, a note of disbelief in your voice, and Rex laughs, his head ducking down, his eyes crinkling. There’s a flush creeping up his neck and he looks up at you, his smile growing wider.

"Terrifying," he says with a laugh. "But not in a bad way."

You snort. "I'm glad.”

"I'm not scared of you anymore," he tells you. His tone is serious, and the humor fades, his expression becoming solemn. "But I am...I'm in awe of you. Still."

"I..." you trail off. His words send a rush of heat through your body, a warm feeling spreading through your veins, and you find yourself staring at him, unable to speak, unable to think. The only thing you seem capable of doing is looking at him and hoping that he understands the things you can't say. Because he has to understand. He has to feel the same way. Doesn't he?

"It's true," he says, his voice low and quiet. "I don't know if I ever told you, but...you saved my life that day. On Geonosis. And...I think I knew then that I would follow you anywhere."

"You didn't have much choice," you point out, and he shakes his head, a small sigh escaping his lips.

"That's not true," he murmurs. "There were plenty of choices. There were a million choices I could've made that day. And none of them involved following you. But I did. Because I wanted to."

His words catch you off guard, and you sit still, staring at him, taking in the sincerity in his voice, the earnestness of his expression, the conviction in his eyes. It's the most honest he's been with you, and you don't know what to say. What to do. How to react.

"Rex," you breathe. You shake your head and force a smile, doing your best to push aside the emotions churning within you. "You're drunk."

“My metabolism is too fast to be drunk on this swill," he snorts, shaking his head. "But even if I was, that doesn't mean it isn't true. I followed you because I wanted to. Because I knew you were someone worth following."

"Even when I'm angry and impulsive and reckless?" you ask wryly. Rex smiles and nods.

"Especially when you're those things," he says, his voice soft and gentle. “You wouldn’t be you otherwise."

You open your mouth to reply and close it, the words sticking in your throat. You turn and stare at him, searching his face, trying to find the right thing to say, the right way to respond, but there's nothing. No words. No clever remarks. No snappy comebacks. Just the overwhelming desire to be close to him.

When you speak again, your voice is shaky, the words barely above a whisper.

"You're too good for me," you say, your eyes dropping to your cup, the wine swirling within it, the deep red liquid reflecting the lights from the stars outside the window. You glance up and find his eyes focused on yours, the tenderness and affection clear in his gaze. "You know that, right?"

"No, I'm not," he murmurs, his tone firm. His fingers brush against your hand, his fingertips trailing along the inside of your wrist, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. "And I know you're not perfect. And that's okay. That's not why I..." He swallows and looks away. "That's not why."

"Why what?" you press. Your heart pounds in your chest, your hands shaking slightly, and Rex shakes his head, his jaw clenching, his expression strained. He reaches for the wine bottle and pours himself another glass, lifting it to his lips, his eyes focused on the stars. You wait for him to speak, but he remains silent, his brow furrowing, his jaw tightening further. "Why what, Rex?"

He lets out a deep sigh and turns back to you, his gaze moving from yours to your lips, and then back again. His eyes are dark and intense, and his voice is low, barely audible.

"You know why," he says quietly.

The words hang in the air between the two of you, the weight of them heavy and thick. There's a part of you that wants to deny it, to pretend that you have no idea what he means, but the other part, the one that's been pushing those thoughts aside since the day the two of you saw each other again, knows exactly what he's saying.

He wants you.

He's wanted you since the beginning.

But, it's more than that, and you know it.

Because, the truth is, you've wanted him too.

You've wanted him since the first time the two of you worked together, since the moment he looked at you, and saw the real you, the version of yourself that's hidden away, locked away behind a mask of anger and arrogance and stubbornness. Since the moment he saw who you really are, and decided he wanted to know more, to know you, to know the person beneath the surface. Since the moment he made you laugh, made you smile, made you feel something besides the darkness and the emptiness that has consumed your life for the past ten years.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His eyes drop to the floor, his shoulders hunching forward, and you can feel the shame radiating off him. He shakes his head, and his cheeks flush, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have...this is stupid. Forget I said anything. It was just...the wine."

"Don't be," you tell him softly.

His head snaps up and he looks at you, his brow furrowing, his lips turning downward.

"What?" he breathes.

"Don't be sorry," you repeat. You take a deep breath and lift your hand, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. "I'm not."

"You're not?" he asks.

"No," you reply as your thumb moves along his jawline, and his eyes flutter shut, a small sigh escaping his lips. “I’m only sorry that we won’t have the chance to do anything about it."

"About what?"

"About us," you murmur. “This new command…there’s no telling how long we'll be apart."

"I know," he says quietly.

He's quiet for a moment, his eyes still closed, and his face turns slightly, pressing against the palm of your hand. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and when his eyes open, his gaze meets yours, the intensity in them sending a shiver down your spine.

"Then we should make the most of the time we have left," he says softly. His hand moves up your arm, and his fingers run along your jaw, tracing the line of your cheekbone. His gaze lingers on your lips before returning to yours, and his thumb brushes over your chin, sending a rush of warmth through you

“I don’t know if we should,” you whisper, but your conviction is waning, and your body betrays you, leaning into his touch, craving the feel of his skin against yours. Rex sighs, his fingers moving to the back of your neck, his palm cupping your cheek, his thumb rubbing gently against the soft skin below your ear. 

Your head dips toward his, and your foreheads touch, his lips hovering inches from yours. You can feel his breath fanning across your face, and your hands reach out, gripping his armor. Your fingers dig into the material, desperate for some anchor to keep you steady, to keep you from losing control, from surrendering yourself completely to the desire and need that are coursing through your body.

"Neither do I," he admits. His other hand moves up, cradling the side of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. His gaze meets yours, and the conflict and uncertainty are plain on his face. He swallows hard and his lips part slightly. "But...I want to."

"Me too," you confess.

"We should stop," Rex murmurs, his eyes searching yours. "Before things go too far."

"Probably," you agree.

But neither of you move, and his gaze drops to your mouth, his thumb moving along your lower lip, tugging gently. A small gasp escapes your mouth, and his eyes lock onto yours, his lips curving into a slight smile.

"I can't," he breathes.

"I know," you say softly. Your hands slide up his chest, moving to the back of his neck, and his head dips forward, his nose brushing against yours, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip.

There’s a moment of hesitation. A brief second where both of you know that there's no going back. A fleeting moment when the two of you stop and consider what it will mean if you cross the line. If the two of you finally give in and do the thing that you've both wanted for months. A moment where both of you wonder if this is the right choice. If this is the path the two of you should take.

A sudden, heavy lurch of the ship snaps you out of your thoughts and sends both of you crashing to the ground. You fall forward, your hands flying out, catching yourself before your body can slam into the floor. Rex lets out a grunt as he lands beside you, his elbow hitting the ground with a loud thud.

You watch as the blur of blue and white outside your viewport flips to black, a jarring change that leaves you dizzy and disoriented. There's a low whine and a rumble as the engines power down, and the lights flicker once, twice, and then shut off, leaving the two of you in total darkness.

"What the hell?" you mutter, pushing yourself up, squinting at the viewport. Your vision is blurred, and your mind is foggy, and you rub at your eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Rex groans and sits up, and the two of you fumble in the dark for a few seconds before you call your lightsaber into your hand. The yellow glow from the crystal provides just enough light for the two of you to see each other. Rex's face is grim as he glances around the room.

"Are we under attack?" he asks. You shake your head as you reach out with the Force, searching for any sense of danger, and find none.

"No," you reply. "I don't think so."

"Good," he sighs, and he pushes himself up onto his feet, offering you a hand. You take it and allow him to pull you to your feet. His grip is firm and strong, and he holds your hand for a moment longer than necessary, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver up your arm. “We should—“

There’s another loud thump, and the two of you are thrown sideways, your lightsaber flying from your hands. Rex's arms wrap around your waist, steadying you as you both slam into the wall. You land on top of him with a thud, his hands still wrapped around your hips, his breath coming in short, shallow pants. You look up at him, your faces only inches apart, the sound of his breathing filling the air, his eyes wide and searching.

“That sounded like an explosion," you mutter, your hands braced against his chest. Rex's brow furrows as he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line. "An internal one."

As if in answer, the blare of the klaxons sounds throughout the ship, and the emergency lights flash on, bathing the two of you in a crimson glow.

"Attention. Attention. This is an emergency. All personnel are ordered to proceed immediately to their stations. This is an emergency. All personnel..." The computer repeats the message over and over, and you look up at the speakers, frowning in confusion.

"This can't be good," Rex mutters.

"No," you agree. Your head dips down, and you close your eyes, a deep, uneasy feeling settling in your gut. "No, it's not."

"We need to go," he says quietly, and you nod, taking a step back. His arms move away from your waist, and he hesitates for a moment before he reaches up, cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushes across your cheekbone, and his expression softens, the tension in his body easing. "Later."

"Later," you echo, and his hand moves to your shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. You watch as he straightens his back, his face growing serious, and he turns and marches towards the door, grabbing his helmet along the way. You take a deep breath and shake yourself, pushing aside the disappointment and frustration and confusion swirling inside you. You can deal with all of that later. Right now, there's work to be done.

You can only hope that whatever is happening isn't as bad as it seems.

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[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.

[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.

[thrawns-babygirl]

The Gallery (Thrawn x F!Reader 18+)

SO! A few things before we get started.

I know nothing about art. I tried my best to make this seem somewhat believable but I'm not an artist, nor will I ever be.

The "dates" I used were in the form of the 'Coruscant Reckoning Calendar' or C.R.C since the battle of Yavin hasn't happened yet and I hate BBY and ABY as in universe measures of time. However they aren't real dates I just threw random numbers into the format and hoped it looked semi believable

I am aware this is really derivative and I'm sorry in advance lmao

This is my first time writing Thrawn, and while I read copious amounts of Thrawn fanfic, I'm still nervous about how I write him so constrictive criticism is encouraged.

I hope y'all enjoy this, I had fun writing it. Been over a month since i wrote anything and it shows.

Rating: E (18+) Word Count: 3800+ Warnings: Unprotected PiV, Oral (F receiving), the tiniest breeding kink if you squint and tilt your head sideways, Art

Masterlist

You looked around the halls of the Imperial Palace and sighed. These galas were boring, atrociously so. But alas, if you wished to maintain funding for your gallery you had to at least make an appearance, rub elbows with the Imperial elite, sweet talk some moderately intoxicated senator or delegate into agreeing that your program was in fact not a waste of credits, and was actually something that the Empire should foster. A civilization without the arts was barely a civilization at all. You sigh, swirling the obnoxiously expensive drink you have in your hand as you stare up at a large canvas painting on the walls of the hall.

Pre Republic era, oil on canvas, looks to be-

“Coruscanti in origin, an interesting blend of ancient human styles native to the planet with a Duros influence, I’d date it around 3591.39.5, what do you think?” as smooth, calculated voice drawls from beside you.

You hum in thought, as you continue looking up at the artwork. “Perhaps earlier, the dot work is absolutely indicative of Duros influences, maybe even around 2280.124.43, when Duros traders started using hyperspace routes to explore the galaxy and foster trade” you turn to face the mystery man and stiffen as you notice the crisp white uniform of a Grand Admiral, but perhaps even more intriguing was his cerulean blue skin, and more intriguing than that, his red eyes that glow softly.

Without taking his eyes off the painting he continues “an interesting theory, however, I would date it after that. The artist was obviously human, their style indicating that they grew up around humans, the brushwork is similar to most works of that period, however the Duros influence would indicate it would have been some time after Humans had made contact with other races. Humans of that era were exceptionally isolationist, their artwork reflects that, this piece shows of an artist who is comfortable with outsiders enough to incorporate them into their medium” the man takes another sip of his drink before turning to you, fixing you with those enchanting eyes “what do you think?”

You’re taken aback, this man, this Grand Admiral, knows what he’s talking about, in fact he may even know more than you about the topic, you scramble to think of something, anything to say. Your face heats up as you think back on human art and history from that era and realise, he’s right. You take a sip of your drink to steel your nerves, warmth flooding your cheeks that you hope he doesn’t notice as you turn back to the painting.

“I think you might be right; I forget about how isolationist humans were back then; it would have taken a long time before they would have taken on facets of other species art in their own” you say thoughtfully as you look up at the painting. It really was a beautiful piece of art. You look back at the stranger to find him also gazing up at the painting with a thoughtful look on his face. Perhaps this art enthusiast of a Grand Admiral was the person you were looking for this whole time? Steeling yourself again you turn and give him your name.

“I curate the Royal Imperial Gallery here on Coruscant, a pleasure to make your acquaintance” You incline your head respectfully as he turns to face you again.

“Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo, however you may call me Thrawn, and I am aware of who you are” Thrawn takes another sip of his drink as he turns his gaze back up to the painting. You eye him curiously as he drinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows and turns back to you.

“You do?” your tone slightly more accusatory than you wanted it to be, Imperial Grand Admirals tended to be the types of people who rallied against your requests for more funding, claiming that the money could be better spent on the Imperial Navy or the Stormtrooper Corps.

Thrawn’s mouth quirks slightly, as if he were attempting to stifle a smile before he speaks again, his voice low “Of course, I am a regular at your institution, I also appreciate your holo galleries so that I may appreciate new instillations while I am away on long campaigns. It is obviously, a crude imitation of having the original piece in front of me, but I will make do with what I can” he eyes you seriously. “I especially appreciated your most recent display of Pantoran tapestries. Pantora is a hub of so many different species and cultures, their art always provides an interesting challenge to see what visiting species influenced what pieces”.

You stare at him wide eyed as he speaks, this man, this Grand Admiral, was an art enjoyer, no an art enthusiast. Perhaps this meeting was destined, perhaps he was the one who would help you retain funding for your gallery before it was all syphoned off and spent on warfare. You open your mouth to speak but it’s like he could read your mind. “I have already spoken with the Emperor, he agrees with me that maintaining the fine arts is important for any society. Your funding is secure” he turns back towards the painting and takes another sip of his drink.

He spoke to the Emperor himself? And the Emperor himself agreed to maintain your funding? Your head was spinning. This is not at all what you expected when you came here tonight, you were expecting to have to plead your case to stuffy senators and businesspeople for them to even consider the possibility that your gallery was worth it. You shake your head as you realise you’ve been staring at him in stunned silence for longer than what would be considered polite. “I… Thank you Grand Admiral. That is… that is wonderful news” you fight to keep the emotions out of your voice, finishing your drink quickly “I don’t know how I can repay you” his lip quirks again in that almost smile before he too finishes his drink.

“No thanks is necessary, and please call me Thrawn, although I would love to hear about what new instillations you are planning for the gallery in the coming months, I have some time planetside and would be remiss to not attend a new display should you be preparing anything exciting” he waves over a serving droid as he talks and takes two more glasses of the overly expensive amber liquid, offering you one which you politely accept before he takes a sip of his.

And just like that, the hours melt away as you walk with Thrawn around the hall, speaking quietly to one another about the intricacies of the art hanging on the walls, from paintings to tapestries to the small statues lining the hall, Thrawn had something to say about all of it. For a military man, he was very, very well educated.

And very, very handsome.

You shake your head as you finish your drink, maybe you have had one too many glasses of Chandrillan Sweet Wine you think to yourself as Thrawn continues speaking about the techniques used to weave a particularly intricate tapestry the two of you were standing in front of. You wanted to listen to him, you really did, but watching the way his lips wrapped themselves around the words he was speaking combined with the melodic sound of his voice had your mind wandering to places that could be considered vastly unprofessional.

As if sensing your fleeting attention to what he was saying he turns to face you, raising a single eyebrow as his lips quirked once again in a ghost of a smile. “Apologies my lady, I do tend to get ahead of myself when discussing art, if you wish to take your leave I will not be offended” you falter slightly because no, you don’t want to leave, you could spend forever listening to his peculiar accent and you rack your brain for something that would keep him in your presence. So, you decide to take a small risk.

“No Thrawn, not at all, in fact I was just wondering if you would perhaps like to join me for a small excursion to the gallery. I could give you a sneak peek of the next exhibition we will be opening in the coming weeks, provided traditional Rodian woodwork is a topic you would be interested in?” you say hopefully, willing the heat away from your cheeks as you place your empty glass on a passing serving droid.

He smiles this time, not just a slight movement of his lips, but a genuine smile that has your heart beating slightly faster and your face burning. He too places his glass on a passing droid and gestures with his hand towards the door. “Lead the way”

The speeder ride towards the gallery is quiet, the lights of Coruscant illuminating the cab as the pilot droid takes you both towards the gallery. You shift in your seat, gazing at his profile from the corner of your eye. His long nose and pronounced cheek bones illuminated by the slight glow of his eyes. You wish you could think of something to say as you fiddle with the hem of your dress, but he doesn’t seem to mind the silence, in fact he seems to be the type that enjoys comfortable silence over inane small talk, so you keep your lips sealed, willing yourself to stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl as the cab stops in front of the gallery.

The gallery is dark, quiet, giving it an almost eerie quality as you walk through the halls, you unlock the door to your office and step to the side to allow Thrawn through, turning on the lights to reveal a small room, a moderately sized desk with a few shelves and a window that looks over the city.

“We haven’t gotten all the pieces yet, so this is only a taste of the style of art we will be displaying soon” you unlock another door that leads to a storeroom, pulling on some gloves, passing him a pair and grabbing a few of the intricately carved wooden sculptures to show the Grand Admiral. He takes them off you and studies them closely, his intense eyes scanning over every detail of the wood before moving over to another sculpture, then another. At the last sculpture he pauses, studying it even more intently than the others before looking up at you. “Do you know the importance of this piece?” he inquires as he holds the small wooden figure towards you.

You take it off him, studying it closely, noting the ridges and bumps. Unfortunately, Rodian art and wood carvings in particular have never really been your area of expertise, although you have a feeling that you’re about to learn. “Unfortunately, Thrawn I am not very well versed in Rodian woodworking, I have a few on staff that would know more than I do” you place the statuettes back into the storeroom and lock the door before turning back to him only to find him looking at you intently.

“That particular sculpture is known as a ‘Prwiss’ it was used as part of a fertility ritual on Rodia centuries passed. The statue would be placed near the bed of the couple attempting to conceive as they partook in intercourse in order to increase the likelihood of fertilization” he explains evenly.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks. ‘Definitely too much wine’ you think to yourself. The words ‘intercourse’ and ‘fertilization’ shouldn’t have such a visceral effect on you. All you can think of is having such a statue over your own bed as Thrawn runs his large hands all over your body, as he thrusts in and out-

“Do you know of my species?” Thrawn asks suddenly. You shake your head, mouth dry as you respond “No… I don’t” his shoulders rise and fall slightly, something that could potentially indicate a chuckle from the stoic man.

“I am Chiss” he says slowly walking towards you “and being Chiss has many benefits” he continues approaching you, in any other context, you could almost compare his slow steps to a predator stalking its prey.

“My eyes for example, I am able to see things that humans cannot. Heat for example” he says as he stops directly in front of you. You blush again, a fact made worse now knowing he’s been able to see your blushing so clearly the entire night the two of you have been together. You swallow, not trusting your voice as he stares you down. You take an unconscious step backwards, Thrawn following you until the backs of your legs meet the solid material of your desk.

“At first I simply thought that you were flushed from the alcohol but… now I have come to a different conclusion” he leans his face closer to yours, you can feel his warm breath against your lips as he holds his lips above yours. A moment for you to back away should you not wish him to go further.

You stare into his bright eyes as your face warms further and heat pools between your legs. Would he be able to see that beneath the layers of your dress? Your thoughts are abruptly cut off as he places his lips over yours, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses you against your desk. You meet his lips in a passionate kiss, the heat from the night reaching a boiling point as he removes his gloves and places his hands on your hips, following his lead you do the same before tangling your hands in his soft hair.

After what feels like an eternity he pulls back, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss and a faint dusting of purple along his sharp cheekbones. He presses you further against your desk and you get the hint, moving some small items out of the way before sitting on the desk.

Thrawn attacks your lips again, a hunger present behind his movements as he situates himself between your legs, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he begins kissing along your jaw, down your neck. You gasp as you feel him suck a dark mark into the skin just above your collarbone, you tug at the soft strands of his hair eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest as he moves his hips against your core. You can feel a definite hardness in the front of his pristine while uniform pants as he moves his body against yours, dragging small sounds of pleasure out of you.

His hands begin moving all over your body, running up your sides around to your back where he begins unfastening your dress, his movements pausing for a moment as he looks at you. You answer his unspoken question with another fiery kiss as his hands work methodically behind you to unfasten your dress, letting it pool on the desk as he moves over towards your breasts. His long fingers tweaking and pinching at your nipples through the thin material of your bra as his other hand moves down your side to help totally remove the dress from you.

He pulls the dress over your head, pausing to haphazardly fold it and place it on your desk before his hands are all over you again. One runs along your thigh while the other expertly unclasps your bra, he pulls the fabric away from your body before moving his lips to your jaw and neck again. You move your hands to his hair again as he kisses down your neck towards your chest.

“Watching the blush crawl up your skin” he mumbles against your neck, voice husky “is truly the most beautiful thing in this entire gallery” he says before taking one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking, rolling the nub around his mouth, his tongue lathing over it. His tongue has an odd texture to it, you note, as he shifts his focus to your other breast, and you can’t help but wonder what that tongue would feel like against your clit. You arch into his touch as he kisses along your chest, lightly biting into the soft flesh, leaving dark marks against your skin as he slowly begins moving to his knees, kissing down your body as he goes, pausing at the fabric of your panties and placing a long passionate kiss on the damp fabric before he pulls the delicate material to the side and sinks his tongue into your cunt.

You moan, throwing your head back in bliss as he eats you like a man starved, lapping at your juices with fervour, your hands finding their way back into his soft hair as his tongue works magic against you. He alternates between rolling his tongue around your clit and shoving it as deep inside you as the muscle will go, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You tug on his hair causing him to groan into you, the vibrations making your walls clench as he focuses extra attention on your clit and suddenly the wave of pleasure crests as you climax, your eyes screwed shut and hips moving on their own accord as you all but ride his face through the precipice of your orgasm.

As you come down you open your eyes and look down at him, noting the sound of flesh on flesh and the movement of his arm another white-hot wave of arousal runs down your spine as you realise, he’s stroking himself.

A Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy, on his knees in your office, touching himself while pleasing you with his mouth. The thought alone is almost enough to send you over the edge again.

His glowing red eyes look up at you, and he slowly stands from his position kneeling on the floor. You hold your breath as he rises, trying not to look too eager to get a look at what is between his legs. Do Chiss look like humans? Is he totally alien down there? Your eyes widen as your question is answered, despite the colour and a few, quite pleasurable looking, ridges, he looks remarkably human. Remarkably human and remarkably large.

The vision of the stoic Grand Admiral, still dressed in his white uniform with his trousers open and his rock-hard length on display is enough to make you lick your lips, your pussy clenching around nothing as fresh wave of arousal washes over you.

He takes himself in his hand, stroking himself a few times, placing the blunt head of his cock against your wet entrance before pausing. “A moment” he says as he looks around your office, retrieving your key card from the desk next to you before walking over to the storeroom and taking out the statue he had spoken about before and placing it on the desk next to you before taking his place between your legs at your entrance again.

He places both hands on your hips as he lines himself up with your slick cunt and slowly pushes inside of you. His uniformed chest rising and falling as he struggles to maintain his tenuous control over himself. The feeling of his girth stretching you open has you gritting your teeth, and screwing your eyes shut. Each ridge of his cock rubbing perfectly against every nerve making you see stars.

You’re both panting as he bottoms out, a low rumbling groan coming from deep in his chest as the feeling of your walls choking his length has him gritting his teeth as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, even deeper.

He lets out a hiss as he begins moving his hips, you resist the urge to close your eyes at the pleasure, wanting to watch each reaction you could earn from the usually pristine grand admiral. Watching the way his jaw clenches, the muscles around his neck tensing, the way his nostrils flare as he struggles to maintain his composure is like a drug to you.

You moan as his thrusts begin to become more forceful, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the confines of your office. He leans over your body, his lips finding yours again as his hips move with more purpose, harder and faster, the ridges of his girth causing you to cry out, his mouth swallowing your sounds as his pace continues to get more intense, more passionate.

He brings one of his hands down in between your bodies, his long, skilled fingers expertly finding your clit, drawing tight circles over it as he pounds relentlessly into you. The sensations becoming too much too quickly as another orgasm begins building in your core, your muscles tensing around him as your walls flutter and tighten, forcing his mouth to part from yours as he lets out a low moan of your name.

Hearing his voice, full of hunger and desperation moaning your name is what does it for you, pleasure cascades through your body as you wrap your arms around his back to ground you, the course texture of his uniform heightening the experience as wave after wave of pure ecstasy rips a harsh moan of his name from your lips.

His pace becomes even more forceful, his hips slamming almost painfully against yours as he chases his own high. His mouth finds your neck again, biting down as you feel his muscles tense, letting out a long low groan against your neck as he finishes inside you. You feel each throb and pulse of his cock as he fills you, his hips moving in short thrusts as he rides out his own high, his breathing ragged.

You both stay there, panting, bodies entwined as you come down. He gives you a long, passionate kiss before extracting himself, pulling out slowly, he looks down at your cunt, his cum slowly beginning to leak out of you and his mouth quirks again, into that ghost of a smile, like he’s proud of himself, before he moves your panties back into place and begins to straighten himself out.

You have no idea what to say as he tucks himself away and smooths his hair, after a short time, he looks immaculate yet again, barely a hair out of place, nor a crease on his uniform, meanwhile you look like well fucked mess, hickeys and love bites litter your neck and chest as you move off your desk on unstable legs to grab your bra and dress, you pause as you see the small statue, the ‘Pwriss’ as Thrawn had called it sitting on your desk. You blush as you move to put it away in the storeroom again.

Thrawn is standing, back straight as he looks at you from across your office, hands clasped behind his back. “I appreciate you taking the time to show me the artwork the gallery has to offer” he inclines his head politely “I’m glad the sculptures were to your liking” you smile at him as you redress.

“Oh yes, I suppose the sculptures were lovely too”.  

Not tagging my usual Crosswhore taglist because IDK how many of you are interested in Thrawn, but I'm tagging some people I think might be interested. Let me know if you don't want me to tag you in the future.

@khapikat222 @vibratingbonesbis@al-astakbar

[whowantslovergirl]

Feather

JJ Maybank x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: SELF RESPECT, JJ is kinda toxic in this, just Y/N being THAT BITCH, and my queen Sabrina Carpenter, ^this means start the song💋 hope you enjoy my lovers 🤍

outer banks masterlist

Summary: Y/N is so happy now that JJ is out of her life

posted: February 5,2024

Y/n and JJ. JJ and Y/n. The perfect couple until JJ thought it was funny to sleep with other girls behind Y/n’s back. They broke up as soon as she found out.

After they broke up, she never realized how draining JJ was.

She feels so free. ^

Oh, it's like that, I'm your dream come true

When it's on a platter for you

Then you pull back when I try to make plans

More than two hours in advance, mm

Another plan that Y/n made that JJ canceled.

Three days before the actual plan.

She had her suspicions but she never acted on it.

______

“Hey Jay. Why’d you cancel on me? I was really excited to go out.”

“Just couldn’t make it baby. Never would have cancelled willingly.” He said through a fake smile.

That is such a lie.

I slam the door, I hit ignore

I'm saying, "No, no, no, no more"

I got you blocked

After this, an afterthought

“Get out! You fucking cheater!” Y/n found out about JJ’s girls. And now he’s saying that it didn’t mean anything and he loves her all that bullshit.

But Y/n is not buying it.

“Baby just hear me out.” She’s pushing him out the door and when he was finally out.

“No! We’re over!” She slammed the door and left him outside of her room. He didn’t even try to get her to open the door.

Y/n knew he never cared.

______

‘Hey it’s Y/n I don’t check my voicemails so just text me!’

He called you five times and they always go straight to voicemail. Then he texted you. Apologizing.

loml jj 🤍

Baby please (not delivered)

They didn’t mean anything to me (not delivered)

Fine be like that (not delivered)

You know I love you Y/n (not delivered)

She blocked him.

He threw his phone and ran his hands through his hair. They’re really over.

I finally cut you off

I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind, ah

Floatin' through the memories like whatever

You're a waste of time, ah

It’s been two months since the infamous break up of Y/n and JJ.

People can tell that JJ is doing terrible and you’re doing absolutely amazing.

You’ve been partying, living your best life and you realized how much JJ was a burden. He would never let you drink this much or party in general for that matter.

God, you feel so much lighter than a feather with him off your mind.

Your signals are mixed, you act like a bitch

You fit every stereotype, "Send a pic"

I feel so much lighter like a feather with you out my life

With you out my life

When you guys were together, he sent you so many mixed signals. One time he’s happy and telling you he loves you and wants to marry you. Then five minutes later yelling at you saying he hates you.

And don’t forget about the begging for nudes.

**Flashback**

loml jj 🤍

come on bby, just one picture

**End of Flashback*

Ew, it makes you disgusted just thinking about it.

Like a feather, like a feather, like a feather, yeah

It feels so good not carin' where you are tonight

And it feels so good not pretendin' to like the wine you like

You’re in your bed watching to hot too handle, you hate it but it’s very interesting. It’s like 12am and you would usually be worrying where JJ is. But you’re not and you love that.

Drinking sprite instead of that nasty beer JJ liked. It feels so good.

You loveeee being single.

I slam the door (Slam the door), I hit ignore (Hit ignore)

I'm saying, "No, no, no, no more"

I got you blocked, excited to never talk, I

I'm so sorry for your loss

“Oh my god JJ! Get out!” JJ went up to your room through your window. Your window.

“You know you should really start locking that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Get out!”

“No not until you talk to me Y/n.”

You just let him speak and he takes a deep breath.

“Yes I cheated but it didn’t mean anything baby. You know I love you and I just wasn’t in the right state of mind when it happened.”

You just roll your eyes. “That sounds like bullshit JJ. Nothing is a reliable excuse for what you did.”

Before he can speak you pushed him out of your house.

“I’m sorry for your loss JJ.” Then you slammed the door on him.

I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind, ah

Floatin' through the memories like whatever

You're a waste of time, ah

Your signals are mixed, you act like a bitch (A bitch)

After JJ snuck in your room, you just stared at the ceiling wondering if what he was saying is true.

Wait why are you thinking about that? It’s over. He’s a cheater and you are having a great time where you’re at.

You fit every stereotype, "Send a pic"

I feel so much lighter like a feather with you out my life

With you out my life

He’s finally out of your life and you feel amazing. He’s a great guy don’t get me wrong, but he’s a cheater.

Whatever you feel amazing with him out of your life.

Like a feather, like a feather, like a feather

You want me? I'm done

You miss me? No duh

Where I'm at, I'm up where I'm at

“I want you baby. I didn’t mean it!”

“JJ I’m done!”

You want me? I'm done (I'm done)

You miss me? No duh (No duh)

Where I'm at, I'm up (I'm up) where I'm at

“You know I miss you Y/n.”

“Yeah who wouldn’t JJ?”

You want me? I'm done

(I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind)

You miss me? No duh

Where I'm at, I'm up where I'm at

“JJ you can’t help your case. I’m finally happy. I feel like a weight just came off my shoulders. Please leave me alone.”

(Like a feather, like a feather, like a feather)

You want me? I'm done

(I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind)

You miss me? No duh

Where I'm at, I'm up where I'm at

After you told JJ to leave you alone, he finally left you alone. You can’t believe it only took three words. You do feel a little bad but whatever it’s his loss.

(Like a feather, like a feather, like a feather, yeah)

An: SABRINA CARPENTER MENTIONED RAHHHHH but hope yall enjoyed my lovers 🤍🤍 and don’t mind the mistakes they’re gonna be fixed