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trickstarbrave · 7 months

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concubine au part *checks notes* 7. you can find part 6 here!

this part is mostly voryn. i love voryn acting like a freak to creep house dres out and throw them off their trail. like how are you supposed to try and argue with someone whos like, insane? just off his fucking rocker? plus nerevar needs his rest

A nice, relaxing--and most importantly, private--bath was also just what Voryn needed. Despite all his training as a spy master and politician, the act was mentally taxing. He had a delicate line to walk: appearing both callous and obsessed, while taking care not to seriously hurt Nerevar.

Not to mention the emotional weight their last conversation had was a heavy one. If he could, Voryn would have gotten on his knees and declared he was madly and passionately in love with Nerevar, but he didn’t want to push him too far. Nerevar was used to acting strong, but Voryn knew him well enough to see he was still very delicate. He was uncertain, his moods prone to shifting dramatically, and ultimately he wanted to feel comfortable and safe. A heartfelt, heavy confession from Voryn might only make him more anxious and confused. But… For now he’d take things slow. He could wait to tell Nerevar everything. After all, he wanted to make sure Nerevar was stable first.

Once Nerevar was cleaned up he looked even more exhausted than usual, so Voryn dressed him in something comfortable and tucked him into bed to sleep. He’d need his medicine soon anyways, and it always left him feeling horrible. Neht had intended to follow him to dinner to continue their little charade, but Voryn hushed him.

“You need your rest for now, Nerevar.” Voryn smiled, giving his cheek a pat, before he finished dressing himself.

“But our plan--”

“I can excuse your absence easily.” Voryn reassured him. “Besides, they’ll be here for a few days. We have plenty of opportunities.” Nerevar made a sour face, before huffing and laying back down.

“Neht,” Voryn pinched his cheek now. “It’ll be fine. I can handle one dinner myself.”

“But I’m worried.” Nerevar replied, still pouting.

“Think of it this way,” Voryn gave a mischievous smile. “They’ll assume the worst when they hear I wore you out by punishing you and making love to you for several hours, won’t they?”

Nerevar hummed at that. “I guess.” Still, he gave a wry smile back. “Don’t forget to have someone bring me food, alright?”

“And starve my favorite concubine?” Voryn asked playfully. “Never.” Nerevar laughed at that, before Voryn moved down to give him a soft kiss on the lips.

Ah, Voryn loved that adorable, love struck look in Nerevar’s eyes when they kissed like this. He always looked so happy and content from the soft, warm kisses. Even in the bath Voryn was peppering his face with him after cleaning off the kohl, listening to him laugh with genuine joy that he had sorely been missing.

“I’ll see you soon…” Nerevar breathed, before snuggling comfortably into Voryn’s pillow.

Voryn took one last look at Nerevar, lying comfortably on his bed, before leaving with a soft sigh.

In the dining hall the men from House Dres were already talking business, getting comfortable. Voryn didn’t make any announcements as he came in, simply sitting at the head of the table. Certainly he could do more to entertain his guests, but he was treating him like they deserved. They did, after all, come to his stronghold barely announced, inviting themselves for a stay of several days. Voryn was doing the bare minimum; House Dagoth may be remote, but they were not weak. They were a pillar of chimeri society in their own right, being the spies and ones who traded with dwemer when most other houses refused to engage with them, yet still wanted their metal and technology. No doubt they expected him to though--assuming he had ‘stolen’ Nerevar and would be willing to be overly accommodating to try and win their favor so they’d look the other way. But Voryn wasn’t so foolish.

“I see you didn’t bring your concubine.” Galar commented. “I was under the impression you took him everywhere.”

Voryn sighed, continuing his act. “I would have preferred to.” Voryn replied. “He’s always quite charming sitting up on my lap, or at my feet begging for food.” He forced a soft, sly grin like he was trying to conceal a smirk. “Unfortunately after our meeting he continued to be… Combative. I reprimanded him accordingly, but it seems I exhausted him. He fell right asleep afterwards.”

“Such a shame.” Galar said, his tone insincere. “Perhaps we’ll see him again soon…” He then gave a business smile. “Though maybe it’s fortunate as there were a few things I wanted to go over with you about him.”

“And what might those be?” Voryn raised an eyebrow. Servants came in around now, setting out plates and trays of food, along with cups and various kinds of alcohol.

“I just think Anaryl might not have given you the full picture.” He answered, pouring himself a glass of flin. “That kid was always very eager to make a deal. And I would hate for you to come knocking on our door demanding your money back.”

“Let’s hear it then.” Voryn didn’t know where this was going, but he was prepared to take his claims with heavy skepticism.

“Well you know by now he was always a rebellious little thing. Constantly breaking things, trying to escape…” The man gave a chuckle. “At one party he threw a whole table out the window in a fury before the guards subdued him.”

“I am aware of his temperament.” Voryn poured a glass of wine for himself, barely sipping it as he ate with care and refinement. “I’m more than capable of handling his little tantrums.”

“Well he also misbehaved in other ways.” Dres Galar put a small vial on the table. It was cheap looking, foggy blue glass.

“What’s this?” Voryn raised an eyebrow again.

“Besides breaking things he liked to rebel in other ways.” Galar looked almost apologetic. “He would bribe guards and servants in order to get his hands on a fairly dangerous drug with the promise that it would prevent him from having any children, just to spite Anaryl. But…” There was something dangerous in Galar’s eyes, the corners of his lips twitching like he was fighting back a devilish grin. “This drug has a horrible side effect in that overusing it can easily cause infertility.”

Ah, Voryn knew just what Dres Galar was trying to do here. He was hoping to bring up new information he thought Voryn wouldn’t have. He wanted it to go one of two ways: either to catch Voryn out on his lie by having Voryn try to attack him or leave out of concern for Nerevar, or that Voryn would want to return him as ‘damaged goods’. By now he was more than aware Voryn and Nerevar were actually having sex, something most people wouldn’t do even as an act, so he likely thought Voryn stole Nerevar for his own desires, or that they were secretly lovers.

Voryn gave a soft smirk, sipping his drink. “Don’t worry,” Voryn began, knowing just how to counter this, “I am already aware of it.”

“You are?” Galar raised an eyebrow.

“My healers are very thorough and experienced.” Voryn explained. “Soon after I brought him home I had them do a thorough check up, healing any and all injuries so we could have a fresh start.” He gave a smile. “In fact, the fact he took the potion is something I’m using to my advantage.”

Galar stared back at him expectantly. He certainly hadn’t expected that. But Voryn had constructed this persona for a reason: he wanted an excuse to be overbearing and doting, while also giving Nerevar the kind of ‘abuse’ and torment they expected. He wasn’t just a cruel lord treating his slave however he wished, but instead a lovesick monster who thought he was genuinely doing the best for Nerevar, whether Nerevar liked it or not. Something between a possessive lover and cruel master.

“I don’t want him doing anything reckless like that again, though it is quite endearing that he wanted to wait to have a child with someone he loves…” Voryn put on a devilish grin himself, forcing a slight flush on his cheeks. He got the reaction he wanted as Galar shuddered, the others from House Dres eying Voryn with concern, though they remained quiet. “That drug is quite dangerous, as you said. Right now, as far as he’s concerned, he is infertile, and was told by the healers he had been taking it too long to reverse it.” Oh, Voryn was quite thankful he decided not to take Nerevar to dinner tonight. He wouldn’t be able to let the full insanity of the character he had made out if he had to worry about keeping this ‘secret’ he just came up with. “But in actuality, the healers are working on fixing it. He was not at all too far gone to reverse it, though it’ll take some time.” Voryn swirled the wine in his glass, his expression still one of barely contained madness and glee. “He’ll fall into a false sense of security… No need to seek out any other drugs or herbs if he thinks he’s already infertile… And then when the time is right,” Voryn took a sip. “We’ll have a little ‘miracle’ child.”

Galar looked genuinely uneasy from that explanation. Certainly Anaryl was cruel and controlling, but he wasn’t as carefully thought out and sinister. He was a mundane kind of cruelty that delighted in pain, but he wasn��t as insidious. He made his intentions clear, giving Nerevar a chance to counter it and rebel. But if this plan was true, Nerevar would only find out long after he’d have a chance to stop it.

Voryn then changed his expression to one of a soft smile. “Of course, I’ll wait until he’s healthy.” The slight disconnect between the two halves of his persona was what sold it, after all. Normal people had contractions and incongruencies, and when you put on an elaborate act or lie like this, it was important to sprinkle some in as well. “I would hate to have something horrible happen to him or our child… I spent so much time getting him back after all.” Voryn took a bite of his meal, looking content. “But when it’s time we’ll finally have proof of our union, our love.” He made the same expression as a doting husband. “And I’m hoping by that time he’ll have come to accept our relationship.”

“Accept it?” A younger nobleman of House Dres finally spoke up, raising an eyebrow. Voryn turned his attention toward the man, still smiling.

“After our little spat, he rejected me, confused by the sudden change. And after I brought him back he’s been combative and misbehaving, but in truth I think he’s having a hard time adjusting. He’s always been so headstrong, if not a little reckless…” Voryn explained. “But we know each other better than anyone.” He looked back down at his glass. “He’ll come to see it, in time. I’m the only person who can love him and take care of him like he needs.” Voryn took another bite. This cover story also was future proof to an extent; if all else failed, they could always continue to act as a concubine and lord in public, but with Nerevar being given much more ‘freedom’ because he was now loyal and well behaved. “Anaryl I feel was too heavy handed in punishment, with not enough rewards. Eventually Neht will get tired of struggling and will see I can take very good care of him if he behaves himself.”

Everyone looked uncomfortable, but that was the goal. He didn’t need House Dres to think highly of him, he needed them to leave Nerevar alone. Galar was the one who probed first, and bit off more than he could chew.

After a few moments of awkwardness, Dres Galar laughed softly, tucking the vial away.

“I see,” He stroked his beard, before sipping his drink. “So long as you’re happy with him, I suppose that’s all that matters.”

“I’m very happy with him.” Voryn replied with a polite smile. “Don’t worry about me returning him. Though if I need any ideas for how to punish him, I might come to House Dres.”

“Certainly.” Galar replied. “We’d be more than happy teaching you ways to punish such a rebellious slave. Though you seem to have a good grasp on handling him already.”

#nerevoryn #nerevar #indoril nerevar #voryn dagoth #my writing #concubine au #i just like writing unhinged guys

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cuddlepilefics · 7 months

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Wear your coat, you'll catch a cold.

Fandom: Enhypen

Sickie: Sunoo

Caregiver: Enhypen

Prompt: @sicktember

No one’s POV.:

The weather had been pretty rough lately. With fall approaching, a strong wind had picked up, while the temperature had dropped drastically over the past few days. The members were all worn out from their busy schedules and realistically, it was only a matter of time till one was bound to fall ill. Knowing they wouldn’t want to have to miss work due to illness, the members had unanimously agreed to take especially good care of their health. They made a point of eating healthy and by having meals together, they were bound to be reminded of having some veggies. Always watching out for one another, the members usually made sure everyone was back and in bed at a reasonable time although there were some exceptions when they really had no choice because of their schedule.

One of those exceptions was Jake and Sunoo having to stay behind at the company. The two had struggled with some parts of their new choreography and were asked to stay longer, so they could work on their weaker points. Jake couldn’t even remember how that could happen as he didn’t usually fall behind like this. Their morning had been a little chaotic, so by the time they started to practice, his mind was anywhere but the task on hand, which was probably why he had made so many mistakes. Sunoo hadn’t been any better, unable to focus and therefor messing up his dance moves. Sure, it sucked having to stay behind because you didn’t do well enough but at least they had each other and didn’t need to stay back alone. Though the other members were confused too and didn’t really want to leave their friends, they eventually filed into the van that would take them back to their dorm.

A few hours later, Jake and Sunoo had finally made it. The pair was exhausted to the bone, which wasn’t surprising with how much they had been dancing. It had gotten quite late and with the van already gone, they had to figure out how to get home. Sure, they could call a cab but when they did, they were told about the waiting time and politely declined. They just wanted to go to bed, not wait for almost an hour till someone would come and drive them. Glancing outside, Jake noted: “Well, it isn’t raining right now…. I we walk, we’ll still be faster than if we wait for a cab and I’m really carving a shower. Ugh, so sweaty.” – “Yeah, I’m drenched too”, Sunoo agreed with a wince, “Let’s just get going. It isn’t even that far.” He quickly downed the last few sips of water before shoving the bottle into his bag.

As they stepped out of the building, a gust of wind hit them. “Woah, that was stronger than I expected”, Jake shuddered as his zipped up his coat. He pulled his hands into the sleeves to keep his fingers from freezing as he glanced at Sunoo, not seeing the younger’s coat anywhere. Sunoo had stuffed it into his bag because he still felt overly warm from dancing and now that the wind hit his damp skin, digging it back out seemed like too much of a hassle. Frowning at his dongsaeng, Jake instructed: “Wear your coat, you’ll catch a cold.” – “Nah, hyung. I’m fine. It isn’t even cold out here, though I suppose your Aussie-genes are making you a little sensitive”, Sunoo teased, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his sweater, so the older wouldn’t see them tremble.

It was no secret that Sunoo was the member with the worst immune system, which was why Jake really worried about the younger walking around without wearing his coat. Sunoo however didn’t feel cold enough to go through the trouble of retrieving his coat from his bag and only teased his hyung when he asked him to put his coat on. Jake knew the boy would most likely get defensive if he mentioned his shitty immune system but there wasn’t much he could do when he just wouldn’t listen. Giving the younger a stern look, Jake reminded: “Ddeonu, we know how it goes with you. If you don’t wear your coat, I give you a day, two days maximum before you fall ill. That’s exactly what we’ve been trying to avoid, so stop fooling around and just put it on.” – “Don’t you think I’d be wearing it if I was cold, hyung? You guys always treat me like I can’t survive on my own. I can make my own decisions, you know, I don’t need you to tell me what my body does or doesn’t need. It is MY body and I know MY body best”, Sunoo spat, adjusting the strap of his bag, so it wouldn’t slip off his shoulder now that he quickened his pace. Jake only sighed as he matched the boy’s pace, knowing he had upset his dongsaeng by pointing out what he had always been insecure about.

Though he had really been looking forward to taking a shower, Jake stalled when they got home, trying to get Sunoo to shower first without coming across too overbearing. The other members had already gone to bed by the time Jake showered but at least he could be sure now that his dongsaeng had warmed up from their walk. Still, when the Aussie went to bed he kept overthinking how he could’ve picked his words better as to not upset the younger but he also made a mental note to keep a closer eye on him for the next few days in case his prediction came true.

Sunoo winced and buried his face in his pillow the second he woke up. He felt drained, a testament of the long practice Jake and him had completed the previous day. The bone-aching exhaustion wasn’t all though. There was a pressure in his sinuses that made his head foggy and he just wanted to go back to sleep for another two hours. That wasn’t an option though, so he rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead. After splashing some cold water into his face, Sunoo had to accept that he wouldn’t be shaking that sleepy hazy anytime soon. All he could do was grab some concealer and cover up the circles under his eyes, so it wouldn’t look quite as dramatic.

While the other member all had at least a small breakfast, Sunoo just couldn’t seem to find his appetite and he ended up just sipping some water to soothe the dry itch in his throat. It was obvious how out of it he was and Niki teased him about almost going back to sleep at the table but the older didn’t react to it at all. “You should really eat breakfast”, Jay hummed, nudging his dongsaeng’s shoulder, “We have a long day ahead of us. Wouldn’t want you to collapse because you don’t have the energy.” Sunoo only nodded, though he was well aware that even if he ate something, he wouldn’t have the energy to keep up with the rest of the group today. He accepted the small serving of rice, Jay handed him but barely had a few bites, mainly just poking at his food.

“Hope he’s not coming down with something”, Heeseung commented after Sunoo had left to get changed. Packing a water bottle into his bag, Niki added: “He’s not acting like himself, hyung. He didn’t react to my teasing at all.” – “I’m pretty sure he’s catching a cold”, Jake sighed, “He refused to wear his coat when we walked home last night and I’m pretty sure he’s mad at me because I might have been a little pushy in telling him to put it on.” The members unanimously agreed to keep an eye on their friend throughout the day because they already suspected he wouldn’t speak up about not feeling well.

Sunghoon made sure to throw a travel pack of tissues into his bag, in case his dongsaeng needed it, while Jake brought along his dongsaeng’s favorite cough drops. Before they headed out, Heeseung went to talk to Sunoo alone, asking the younger if he was okay and what was on his mind but Sunoo insisted he was only sleepy still because they had gotten home late the previous night.

Their schedule passed in a blur for Sunoo, who frequently had to excuse himself to the bathroom to go and blow his nose. He had been really quiet all morning, only speaking when someone asked him something because his throat was on fire and he was certain he’d be losing his voice soon. His attempts at dancing always left him lightheaded and though the members noticed him slacking during the choreographies, nobody pointed out his mistakes as it was obvious that he was trying his hardest. A bunched-up wad of toilet paper fell from Sunoo’s pocket during one of the jumps. If he had run out of tissues, it would most definitely explain why his nose looked so raw and irritated. It had to hurt badly to scrub at it with toilet paper. When the younger wasn’t looking, Sunghoon slipped the travel pack of tissues into his dongsaeng’s bag, so he wouldn’t have to blow his nose into toilet paper anymore.

Jake and Sunoo hadn’t really spoken at all that day and the older couldn’t help but feel guilty for the way he had approached the topic of his dongsaeng’s health the previous night, assuming the younger was avoiding him because he was still hurt and upset because of it. Truth was, Sunoo tried to stay away from Jake, afraid the older would notice him being under the weather and he really wasn’t in the mood for any ‘I told you so’. Still, that would be the best-case-scenario but Sunoo feared his hyung would be mad at him because they all put in such a big effort to stay healthy while he had been stubborn and deliberately risked falling ill.

Sunoo didn’t know how he had done it but he had gotten through a full day of schedule without collapsing. By the time he got back to the dorm and kicked off his shoes though, he was pretty certain that he had developed a fever. His skin felt sensitive, while his head pounded and he couldn’t tell whether he felt hot or cold. Too exhausted to notice his friends’ intentions, Sunoo took the first turn showering when he was pushed towards the bathroom. “Let’s have some soup for dinner”, Jake proposed, already heading to the kitchen. Walking off to the room he shared with Sunoo, Jungwon and Niki, Sunghoon agreed: “I’ll be there to help you in a minute, hyung. Let me just go and set up the humidifier for tonight.” While the older filled the humidifier with water, Niki placed a fresh box of tissues next to Sunoo’s bed and picked out a warm outfit for his hyung to wear after his shower.

The steam in the bathroom had helped Sunoo breathe a little easier though the shifting congestion made him cough. He could only hope that the running water was enough to drown out the noise but he doubted it. His throat felt shredded and tears stung his eyes as he kept turning the water temperature higher in an attempt to quell the chills. The chills didn’t stop but the hot water soothed the ache in his muscles. Sunoo stumbled a little as he stepped out of the shower, the heat messing with his circulation. Spotting the clothes on the sink, he heaved a sigh of relief, grateful that whichever member had picked them had picked a warm outfit. He still shivered as he got dressed, eager to head to his room and lay down on his bed till dinner would be ready.

On his way to his room, Sunoo happened to run into Jake though, the older stopping him right there. They only stared at each other for a moment, Jake realizing the younger had forgotten to dry his hair. After their argument the previous night, the Aussie was hesitant to comment on it, though he knew Sunoo would only get worse if he didn’t dry his hair. “Dinner should be ready in half an hour”, Jake stated neutrally, stepping aside to let the younger go to his room. Sunoo nodded in acknowledgement, making a beeline for his bed as his head spun. He wouldn’t have been able to stay upright a moment longer, so he was glad that the older didn’t try to have a conversation but on the other hand, he was also a little hurt that his hyung treated him so distant.

“Guys, Sunoo didn’t dry his hair but I don’t think he would’ve reacted well to me telling him what to do, so could one of you make sure he dries his hair?”, Jake asked quietly as he made his way to the common area of their dorm. Winking at his hyung, Niki headed to the room he shared with Sunoo and plopped down on the bed next to him. “Ugh, today was exhausting”, the maknae groaned as he lay down alongside the older, “Do you feel wrecked too, hyung?” Sunoo nodded his hum coming out painfully hoarse. “Cuddles till dinner is ready?”, Niki smiled, resting his forehead against his hyung’s arm. Sunoo smiled wordlessly as he pulled the younger against his side, only to have the boy sit up. “Hyung, you forgot to dry your hair”, Niki frowned, “You’ll get our clothes wet if we cuddle.” – “Didn’t forget”, Sunoo breathed, “Didn’t feel like drying it because the blow drier is so loud and I’m too tired for that type of noise.” He really didn’t want to mention the splitting headache that made any loud noise unbearable and he didn’t have to. “Hang on, I’ll fetch a towel and we can just rub your hair dry, okay?”, Niki smiled, already walking off to the bathroom before he even got a reply.

Cuddling his dongsaeng had helped ease the chills a little and by the time they were called to dinner, Sunoo had almost dozed off. He sniffled into his sleeve as he trudged to the dinner table, quietly thanking his friends for the meal. Though he still didn’t have an appetite, the soup soothed his throat and warmed him up from the inside, so he managed to finish all of it this time. Sunoo weakly explained that he’d like to catch up on the sleep he had missed the previous night and headed right back to his room after they cleared the table. He only downed some medicine before curling up under his blanket, immediately drifting off.

Sunoo didn’t manage to stay asleep for long though. Fevers always left him restless and sharing a room with three other people, it was safe to say they didn’t get much sleep either. When their friend shot up from a nightmare, breaking into a painful cough, it took all of three seconds for Jungwon to turn on his reading lamp. Sunoo’s heart clenched as he realized he had woken someone else up and he desperately lifted his pillow to his face to try and muffle the noise. Tears spilled down his cheek when he felt the mattress dip and a hand appeared on his back. “You’re okay”, Sunghoon whispered, running his hand up and down his dongsaeng’s spine. While Sunoo struggled to catch his breath, Niki quickly fetched him some water.

After having a few sips of water, Sunoo was finally able to stop coughing but the tears still kept dripping from his chin. Crouching next to his friend’s bed, Jungwon hummed: “What’s wrong, hyung?” Sunoo choked on a sob and ended up muffling another cough into his pillow. “Jake-hyung is- he’s mad at me ‘cause- be-because I-“, he forced out between sobs. Patting the boy’s back, Sunghoon whispered: “Did you have a nightmare, sunshine?” The younger gave a pathetic nod, sniffling back more tears. “Did you and Jake-hyung fight?”, Niki asked quietly, “You’ve been kinda tense around each other today.” Sunoo gave another weak nod, admitting: “Hyung told me- he told me not to do something ‘cause I’d get sick. I- I got frustrated and- and I didn’t listen and now- and now I’m sick and he’s mad ‘cause I was- I was rude when he- when he meant well and was -was right.” – “Ssh, deep breath”, Sunghoon reminded as the other’s rambling got faster, “What I can promise you, is that Jake-hyung is not mad at you, sunshine. Yeah, he’s worried but he couldn’t be mad.” Jungwon and Niki quietly agreed with Sunghoon but Sunoo didn’t seem to fully believe them, so the older offered: “Let’s go and talk to hyung, yeah? You’ll see he isn’t mad.” – “He surely will be if we go and wake him up”, Sunoo rasped but his hyung had already pulled him to his feet.

Both Jay and Jake were up in an instant when the door to their room opened. It had probably been intuition because they knew their dongsaeng was feeling poorly. The moment Sunoo made eye contact with Jake in the dim light of Jay’s reading lamp, the younger broke into tears again. “Our sunshine thinks you’re mad at him, hyung”, Sunghoon whispered, wrapping his arm around Sunoo’s shoulders. Patting the spot next to him, Jake hummed: “Now, why would I be mad?” Sunoo stiffly sat down next to the Aussie and sniffled into the cuff of his sleeve. “I-I was rude last night and you- you were right”, the boy rasped, “I caught a cold like you- like you said I would.” – “I know you did”, Jake sighed, pulling the younger into a side hug, “Doesn’t mean I’m mad though.” – “You knew?”, Sunoo stammered, shocked because he had put in quite a bit of effort to hide it from his group. “Sunshine, how blind do you think we are?”, Jake asked softly, feeling his dongsaeng’s forehead, “We all knew. Pretty much from the moment you didn’t react to Niki’s teasing this morning, we could tell something wasn’t right. It’s okay. I get that it’s frustrating but I really only intended to watch out for you last night.” – “I know an’ I’m sorry”, Sunoo whimpered, resting his thumping head on his huyng’s shoulder.

“Gosh, you’re shivering”, Jake frowned, clicking his tongue, “Do you wanna stay here with me tonight? We can cuddle and maybe the chills will ease up soon.” Sunoo gave an exhausted nod while Jay slipped out of bed, whispering: “Do you want me to find some medicine before you go back to sleep?” – “Already took some but thank you hyung”, the younger breathed as he crawled under Jake’s blanket. Jay helped his dongsaeng’s get settled before leaving the room with Sunghoon. He walked the younger back to his room, telling the maknaes ‘goodnight’ too before collecting a cold washcloth from the bathroom. When he returned to his room, he gently cleaned the sweat and tears off of Sunoo’s flushed face and adjusted the heater in there room before getting back into bed for a few more hours of sleep.

#fanfic #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #sickfic #sick #sicktember2023 #sicktember 2023 #enhypen

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kim-poce · 1 year

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4. Witches Are Meant to Burn: Sculpted

On Patreon | First | Previous

=-=

The trip was the usual, train for the first part, carriage for the second, and walking for the last, the terrain was often steep. It normally would be just plain tiring. It was just plain tiring until we got close to the library, then it was tiring and so hot. I’ll need to decrease the number of coats in my wardrobe while I’m here. Everyone was really excited the whole time, I was more exhausted than anything. I didn’t have time to rest, though, soon I was seated at the big circular table in this overly bright room made yesterday just so this meeting could be held.

Oh right! I should introduce myself, it’s late I know but I’m not used to stepping out of my field, and in my field, everyone (to who I talk) already knows me. I’m Professor Ernestine Ruos-Aliene de Patry, an etymologist as you must have guessed. Well, I study several fields but whenever I have to keep it short I boil it down to etymology.

I work mostly at Jitarin Academy, however, I don't work for Jutarin Academy, it’s more like, they help me get resources for projects and I earn them renown, this relationship had been working for several years now, and after I got into the group of people that chose who will work on what the academy began to accept any request of mine.

The meeting was going on as lively as usual, I tried to ignore slight nausea I was feeling for about half an hour already. Maybe I shouldn’t have joined Tina on her unhealthy meals earlier today. I hope Hector has medicine on him because the closest apothecary is over 500 kilometers on foot plus thirty minutes on horse from here and none of my students would like to go there now.

On the bright side, The Podium Library was just two kilometers away. Getting to the library will be a pain, though. One thing that I learned from studying history is how much the ancient people on this continent loved caves. They aren’t good economically speaking, it’s not every one that has enough tourist value to attract that many people, they do not help merchants and business between different places, but caves are natural and (sometimes) habitable, many villages were built around some agglomeration of small caves, and only when these were all occupated that they would go to build buildings. There are many theories of why. I myself wrote a couple of books on how the demonization of the new and the changes caused the fear of the effect of the hands of god had on the hands of fate were related to so many caves being used as the starting point of most cities, but what is relevant now is that, as expected of someplace from the Fog Age, the Podium Library was underground.

“Is the ground really stable?” Professor Viane Ji-Dober asked, someone had to, the library had been evacuated just an hour ago due to the risk of a cave-in, not that something had happened, not knowing if something will happen was the issue. “We are talking about dozens of academics here, so we must be sure if it’s safe or not so we can get the Acceptance Of Risk papers ready.”

“Although the entrance broke down, the ground and structure seem fine,” Markus Virtus —Portia’s representative— said while tapping his fingers on his left hand.

“We need more than seems fine,” Professor Gione Petar said, “Will you take responsibility if the centuries-old archives are damaged? Do you have any idea how important this place is?”

“I know how much-”

“Oh no, you do not.”

“Professor Gione, that’s enough. We don’t need to talk about how important is to be sure the library is safe, we obviously needed to be sure before letting everyone in, —” I glared at him, the very one who put his students in the library before knowing it was safe “—What we need to talk is why it has been two days and a proper team wasn’t called yet.”

“You get here late and want to complain about the decision we made in your absence? You don’t have the right to complain!” Professor Jayon Bullar snapped.

“I have if you are being an idiot!”

“Idiot? You are suggesting we send a group of brute people who know nothing about what they are putting their hand on down there because of what? Because you are scared of a possible cave-in? It survived centuries! Why would it break now?”

“I swear for the hands of god that if you truly think that’s how-”

“Can we… uh… calm down?” Markus tried, “If one of you goes with the team it’ll be fine, right? Any… volunteer?”

I glanced around at the mostly old and out-of-shape people that formed that group, none of which are fit to go with the team down the library. No one volunteered, of course, and sending a student was out of question (unless you are Gione Petar, but he doesn’t count). Well, we’ll be here for a long time, aren’t we?

“Why are you so grumpy?” Lucas asked after I told them how the meeting went. “You’ll get to see the library before them! That’s luck!”

“Yeah, join our risk measuring team down to a maybe-instable-maybe-not ancient cave is the best definition of lucky!” I said, rolling my eyes. “Did I tell you they decided on the shorter stick?”

“yes you t-”

“Who makes this kind of decision on the shorter stick?!”

“Someone who spent years studying the saying “witches are meant to burn” is asking why they let this important decision up to luck?” Tina asked, raising her eyes brown.

“Fair.”

“When are you going?” June asked.

“Tomorrow morning, after eating some proper food, and resting a bit,” I answered, Hector had the medicine, all I needed now was to join June for meals instead of Tina.

“Time for them to get the Acceptance Of Risk form ready and for the team to arrive,” Sandra commented.

“Yeah, if they had it ready they would try sending me down there today.”

“Why is everyone here an egg?” Tina asked.

“Why do you call people eggs?” Sandra asked. Wrong question.

“Don’t ask.” Me, June, and Luca said at the same time. “Tina no.”

Tina obviously ignored us. “So, do you know about the primordial soup…”

I sighed. This, too, would take a while.

Soon (or kind of) it was morning, the night was hot, and no one told me this place would be so hot. But apart from this, it was a good night of sleep. We had slept in a tent about one kilometer away from the entrance of the library. The terrain was mostly rocks, steep rocks, but luckily we had found enough plain areas to camp on, the groups did have to be somewhat far away from each other, though. If the cave is safe we’ll certainly move into the library. I know I’ll.

I was nervous, but it wasn’t my first rodeo. We had all the equipment to made it as safe as possible, and I had a whole team who actually knew what they were doing with me. So I took a deep breath and started.

The cave was pretty I’ll give it that. The entrance was small and hard to go by, the first part didn’t seem to be changed much, if at all, from its natural formation. The team was really patient in helping me down on the harder and narrower parts, none of them let it out that it was annoying to have someone slowing them down.

As soon as we got deeper inside the walls changed. The dark reddish walls were more and more gray, and smother. It was to the point the ground became totally plain and the wall formed are perfect semicircle over our hands. I hadn’t arrived at the library yet, but I knew it was from the last part of the Fog Age, near the end. You can tell by the changes on the walls, you see, ancient people wouldn’t change it like this. They wouldn’t mold the place in fear of the disasters it would bring.

“It probably had an actual entrance,” I commented. “Leading out, the path we came from isn’t the same they used to take back then.”

“I hope you are not planning on breaking the walls or something,” the team leader, Maliane, said, showing how much she trust us.

“I can’t say you don’t want to, but we won’t actually do something this stupid.”

Maliane nodded, but it was clear that she didn’t believe me.

“You meet Gione, right? Short, thin, angry.” I asked.

“... yes.”

Yeah. She has a reason not to trust us.

“This is the entrance,” the young woman leading us said, gesturing to a cube hole in the walls, each side had two meters. If one didn’t look closely one would think it’s just a cube carved into the cave wall.

The entrance was hidden, we had to walk into this dark cube to access this, also dark, narrow pathway. Twenty meters in, and going right was the actual library’s entrance. We lit the place up, but our flashlights weren’t enough to show everything so the team started attaching lights on the floor.

Two bronze doors were fallen down, five meters tall and about half of it wide. Looking closely it was ten centimeters thick. It was hard to tell just yet if this was for aesthetic purposes or if they wanted this library to be out of reach this much. As the place became brighter the craving on the doors was more visible, the details were shaped like processed jewels, just like Gione’s students had told. I would take a closer look later, but at that moment there was something more important than the drawing on a door.

I glanced at the now partially lighted-up library. It was… amazing. There were so many books, I know it’s a library, but it’s from Fog Age. We know barely a thing about that time and it’s like life handed down this much data as a gift. The bookshelves also drew my attention, they aren’t built, they were sculpted. Everything I could see was connected, it was as if that place was never a natural cave, maybe this whole large library was sculpted.

“We’ll start,” the team leader said, I didn’t really care much about how they were going to check the library. I knew part of the team was outside and I knew everyone was caring tools, but my only whole in there was to let them know if they are damaging some ancient thing they shouldn’t touch, so I could take my time to look around without a problem.

I thought I could take my time to look around without a problem. I realized I was wrong the second I stepped into the library.

=-=

@kathea @extemporary-username @wolfeyedwitch

#Witches Are Meant to Burn #my writing #witches #original writing #fantasy #fic

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fanfic-phoenix · 1 year

Text

Drinking on Coruscant

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3663

Read on AO3

Read the whole series on Tumblr

Obi-Wan is fine. Mace is dubious. Qui-Gon is dead.

It’s hard, and Mace definitely isn’t qualified, but he is checking in on Obi-Wan.

Despite all available evidence to the contrary, Obi-Wan Kenobi would like to argue that he was, at this particular moment, completely fine.

Absolutely fine.

Brilliant, actually. Perfect. Perfectly perfect.

And also drunk. Perfectly drunk.

So kriffing drunk.

He huffed at himself. He was more than drunk. He was a knight. A Jedi Knight. The thing he’d wanted to be since he was three years old and first learned what a Jedi Knight was.

And he had his nice jeans on.

He was a drunk Jedi Knight in good jeans.

That, he decided, chewing contemplatively on his straw, is not a bad thing to be.

Maybe he was just a little tired, but that was fine too, because he had a Padawan now and he was fairly sure exhaustion just came with the territory. Anakin Skywalker, Hero of Naboo, former slave and current Chosen One.

Alleged Chosen One, anyway.

A wonderful mechanic for certain, a terrifying pilot, and a reluctant reader, even in Huttese. Obi-Wan hadn’t even started teaching him to swim, yet, more focussed on getting him to wash without panicking about the waste of water.

It was a work-in-progress.

He was a drunk Jedi Knight in good jeans with an adorable, work-in-progress Padawan.

A very adorable Padawan, actually. Anakin’s first padawan-cut had gone slightly awry and Obi-Wan was nervous of trying again. In the meantime, his growing hair had gone soft and feathery - like a duckling, Obi-Wan thought but wouldn’t say - and Anakin, who’d spent nine years full of sand, would spend a long time running his fingers through it, wide-eyed and silent.

Obi-Wan had never got on particularly well with children before. He largely found them confusing, overly enthusiastic and easily upset. Given his existing problems with the general populace, he most often opted to ignore them.

Anakin was the exception. Anakin was his Padawan, and that made him acceptable.

Today, Anakin the Acceptable was spending the night with Quinlan and Aayla because Quinlan hadn’t wanted to come out with him.

For reasons.

So Obi-Wan was a drunk Jedi Knight in good jeans with an adorable, work-in-progress Padawan, who may or may not be in a fight with his boyfriend.

And also his Master was dead.

That was the biggy.

But even though Qui-Gon was dead (very dead, in fact, with a lightsaber in his stomach that haunted his nightmares), and even though he was half-convinced Anakin wished it was him who’d died that day, and even though he wasn’t always one-hundred-per-cent convinced that it wouldn’t have been better off that way, he was coping.

It was easy to tell he was coping because he had a rainbow-coloured drink and a purple curly straw. Those were fun things. Fun things for coping people. People who were coping.

He was a drunk Jedi Knight in good jeans with an adorable, work-in-progress Padawan, a dead Master, a rainbow drink, a curly straw, and a boyfriend who didn’t want to go out with him.

And he was fine.

***

Knight Kenobi was absolutely not fine.

Mace had been meaning to check up on him for a while. Losing a Master was always hard. Being knighted immediately after was worse.

Taking a Padawan on top of all that was essentially unprecedented, never mind a Padawan so old, and Mace didn’t consider it particularly paranoid to suppose Kenobi might burn himself out with it all. Jinn had mentioned more than once that the boy was allergic to taking a break - Mace had no desire to meet the consequences.

Council business, however, was all-consuming at a good time and, given the re-emergence of the Sith after a thousand years of peace (a Sith dispatched by Kenobi, because of course it was, the hypercompetent, danger-magnet bastard that he was), it was not a good time. Before he knew it, days had turned to weeks, weeks to months, and he still hadn’t checked on Kenobi.

Others had, of course. Kenobi’s friends, who were likely more welcome and more helpful than Mace.

Even so, he wanted to see him with his own eyes.

For Jinn’s sake, if no one else’s.

He wasn’t sure, exactly, why he’d picked tonight. There was nothing special about it, no difficult anniversary looming on the horizon, no bad news creeping from the shadows. An ordinary night by all accounts.

(He ignored, determinedly, that for the moment there was no such thing as an ordinary night. Every night was an anniversary. Six months ago today, Jinn had a blazing row with Master Yoda in front of the whole Council. Seven years ago next week, Jinn had burst into Mace’s rooms to complain that Kenobi would one day be a better man - a better Jedi - than Jinn would ever be, but that the boy would never believe it. All nights could be marked like this.)

He felt the Force as clearly as if it was tugging on his elbows, urging him forwards towards Kenobi’s rooms.

Kenobi’s empty rooms, as it turned out.

With narrowed eyes he’d pivoted, making his way instead to the rooms of one Quinlan Vos. It went against his personal policy of not acknowledging Vos and Kenobi’s… active relationship outside of Jinn’s vent sessions (and what a sting, to realise such a thing no longer existed), despite nearly the whole Temple knowing by now, but the Force had escalated from shoving elbows to prodding at his tender temples, and he was loathe to leave it dissatisfied.

Vos opened the door immediately, before he had time to take his hand from the doorbell. Something prickled on the back of Mace’s neck.

“Is Obi-Wan alright?” Vos’ voice was pitched low, hardly audible over the giggles of two Padawans from somewhere within, but it did little to hide his anxieties.

“Why do you ask?”

“Why else would you be here?” It took a moment, but Vos relented. “He’s not here. He’s gone out. I haven’t heard from him since he left.”

Mace hadn’t asked why Kenobi was out and Vos was not. He assumed it was more than a matter of babysitting, given that Bant Eerin was currently on leave, but quickly surmised that it was none of his business. Instead, he laid out his mission. “I want to check on him. Do you know where he’ll be?”

“I’ll send you the address,” Vos said, already reaching for his comm.

And that, all told, was why he was here, standing in a smoky bar deep in the lower levels. A bar far enough from the Temple that, if he tried, a Jedi could go unnoticed - even one so recently lauded as one of the heroes of the Battle of Naboo.

Music thrummed, the bass thick enough to choke on, thick enough that if it were louder, it’d thrum right through his bones. Thankfully the Force - or DJ - had chosen mercy, and it was just low enough to talk over.

Just.

Overall, it was the sort of place that Mace could well imagine Kenobi enjoying. The boy might have carefully cultivated his reputation as the perfect Jedi, nurtured the idea that he was polished and refined and more than slightly vain, might have weeded out any lingering hints of his Stewjoni lilt and buried it beneath the poshest, most senate-friendly of Coruscanti accents, might have washed away memories of his youngling escapades with more and more reports of his exemplary conduct and ridiculously high success rates, but Mace had been the confidante of Qui-Gon Jinn.

Mace knew better than to fall for that.

He’d heard all about Kenobi’s habit of blasting ear-rattling playlists when he studied, his ill-fated experiments with black nail polishes, his far more successful forays into the wide world of eyeliner. He’d hidden a smile behind his glass as Jinn recounted catching his Padawan halfway out his bedroom window, wafting away the smoke of a smuggled cigarra.

And, of course, he sat politely through Jinn’s countless laments on the subject of Kenobi’s love life - namely that he had one, and that Jinn was occasionally exposed to it. His irrepressible flirting, which was bad enough with allies but far worse when directed at people trying to kill him. His dreadful - though in Mace’s opinion, slightly amusing and vaguely impressive - habit of sleeping with strangers and finding out a few days later that they were a dignitary he and Jinn were supposed to be negotiating with.

Naturally, Jinn had plenty to say on the subject of Kenobi and Vos. The horrors of finding them in the living room together. The distress of their protracted farewells. The eventual decision to loosen Kenobi’s curfew the nights before they went off-world, just to get the pair out of earshot. (Mace hadn’t mentioned his firm belief that that had been their aim the whole time.) And, finally, his fervent belief that no one - least of all Quinlan Vos, renowned and unrepentant mischief-maker - was good enough for Obi-Wan Kenobi, beloved Padawan and (as Jinn frequently insisted) future member of the Jedi High Council.

How strange, given all that, that he couldn’t find Kenobi anywhere.

He looked again. Kenobi wasn’t at the bar, wasn’t hovering near the speakers, wasn’t part of the tangle of bodies on the dance floor, wasn’t…

Mace blinked. Looked again.

Kenobi wasn’t at the bar, nor the speakers, nor dancing, nor…

Ah.

He wondered, idly, if the mind trick was accidental or not. Either way, it was powerful. More than powerful. Even aware of it, he could feel the gentle press of it against his shields, the quiet suggestion that he ignore the sticky table at the back of the room.

Really, it asked, what could be there that’s more interesting than your drink? Why would you sit all the way over there, so far from the bar?

Still, now he knew it was there, he looked past it with ease.

There, alone, was Kenobi, face down on the table beside a half-finished, half-melted, multi-coloured monstrosity of a cocktail, shoulders shaking with silent tears.

Mace sighed. He wasn’t quite as surprised as he felt he should be.

Kenobi didn’t look up as he approached, not even when Mace slipped into the chair next to his. It was a far cry from his usual observant self, but Mace was almost relieved when he compared it to the jumpy, hyper-vigilant young man who’d returned from Naboo.

“Knight Kenobi.” He winced at himself and quickly corrected, “Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan looked up with wide, teary eyes. He sniffed, scrubbing his cheek against his shoulder, smudging eyeliner so dramatically he went from fashionable to battered. “Master Windu?”

“Yes.”

“You came to check on me?”

There was no point in denying it. “I did.”

Obi-Wan’s face crumpled and he sniffed again, biting so hard on the inside of his cheek that Mace could see the divot. It did nothing to stop his tears welling and he surrendered quickly, strangling a sob and flinging himself into Mace, who barely had the time to open his arms before all the weight of a twenty-five-year-old man crashed against his chest.

Oh dear, he thought, rubbing a circle on Obi-Wan’s back and shushing mindlessly, like the boy was a crèchling again. Of all the reactions he’d expected, this hadn’t been one of them.

“Alright,” he said, more than a little awkward. “It’s not that bad.”

Pulling back, Obi-Wan gave him an outraged look, though it was perhaps slightly diminished as Obi-Wan went slightly cross-eyed, glaring at a man so close to him.

“You came to rescue me,” he said sternly, which was perhaps pushing it slightly. Mace didn’t exactly have time to disagree before Obi-Wan, with the same stubbornness, placed a firm kiss squarely on his cheek. “This is why you were Qui-Gon’s favourite.”

Slightly stunned, he watched him settle back into his seat, all tears forgotten.

“Master Yoda’s my favourite,” Obi-Wan went on, though Mace still wasn’t sure what category of favourite they were discussing, before wrinkling his nose. “That was rude. Sorry.”

“That’s alright,” he said. “He’s my favourite, too.”

That was a lie. If Mace had a favourite - which he didn’t, but if he did - it would be his Padawan. Still, it made Obi-Wan smile and nod approvingly.

“He’s just… the best.”

Mace laughed, caught off-guard, but Obi-Wan was thankfully unoffended. “I happen to know he’s very fond of you, too.”

This was true, and well-known amongst the Council. Coruscant’s sky was blue, Master Yoda had a soft spot for his great-grandpadawan. It was simply a fact of life.

The boy’s face lit up like a life-day tree. “Really? He said he was sorry to lose me, once, but then he said I have Qui-Gon’s defiance, and I don’t know if that’s good or not.”

Mace didn’t know what Yoda thought of it, but he knew what he thought. “It is.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan seemed surprised, just for a moment, before he shrugged. “Good.”

They lapsed into silence. Obi-Wan looked contemplatively at his increasingly melted drink.

Mace, meanwhile, tried to decide the better course of action. Take Obi-Wan home and put him to bed, or talk to him about why he was crying and then take him home.

“How’d you even find me?” Obi-Wan asked suddenly, evidently deciding against drinking more.

“Knight Vos told me where you’d be.”

“Oh.”

Obi-Wan’s bottom lip wobbled dangerously. Mace cursed everything, including Jinn, who’d never thought to warn him that his Padawan was a weepy drunk.

(Years from this moment, Mace would learn that Obi-Wan was not, actually, a teary drunk. He was simply a drunk who felt whatever he was already feeling very strongly.)

“Are you alright?”

“I think we’re fighting.”

“You think?”

“He says we’re not,” Obi-Wan sighed, slumping back in his chair until he was decently slouched, “but it feels like we are. Normally we spar until it’s better, but he won’t-” Obi-Wan’s breath caught. “He won’t even spar with me!”

Why? Why me? For this? The Force, he decided, had a peculiar sense of humour.

“Why do you think you’re fighting?”

“We’re- I-” Obi-Wan groaned, digging his palms into his eyes. “He wants to talk about Naboo.”

Mace… was struggling to see the problem here.

“I don’t want to talk to Quin about Naboo. I’ve already told him the facts.” Obi-Wan said the word facts like it ought to be capitalised, weighted. Like the facts were something sacred. “He wants me to talk about the feelings. ”

“It’s important to talk about these things,” he hedged.

“I do,” Obi-Wan groaned, dropping his hands to give Mace a plaintive look. “With the mind healer.”

That was… surprisingly healthy for a Padawan of Qui-Gon Jinn. Mace found himself oddly proud of his old friend and the knight before him.

“I know Quin thinks it’ll help to talk to him but it hurts - it hurts, Master - and I don’t… I just want to feel normal with him. I mean, what am I supposed to say? Master’s dead, my Padawan kriffing hates me half the time, and there’s nothing to do but keep going - what’s Quin meant to do with that? Nothing he can do.”

Oh, but Mace really wasn’t qualified for this. He kept his face carefully neutral: “Have you told him that?”

“I don’t…” He sighed again. “I don’t know how to say it… nicely. I don’t want to make it sound… I don’t want to hurt him, make him think I don’t trust him, because I do. I do trust him, but-” He broke off with an aggravated noise, hand moving to tug on a now-absent braid. His fingers grasped the empty air and fell, instead, to the collar of his shit.

“Talk to him,” Mace said. It seemed like decent advice. “Nine years can survive a clumsy phrase.”

It took a long, long moment of Obi-Wan twitching at his t-shirt, but Obi-Wan eventually smiled down at the table.

“You give better advice than my Master,” he said.

“I should think so,” Mace sniffed, perhaps playing up his reaction slightly, if only to avoid another bout of tears. “The only sound advice Jinn ever gave was on plant care.”

“Not so,” Obi-Wan said. The phrase hung awkwardly in the air for a moment, as if he was waiting for a reply, before he barrelled on. “He told me ‘never get so drunk you can’t cheat at sabacc’, and it’s the best I ever got.”

“You think you could cheat at sabacc right now?”

“No, but I could filter enough toxins that I could cheat pretty quickly.”

“Impressive.”

“Well-practised,” he confessed. “I cheat my way out of hangovers.”

“That’s not how that works,” Mace said. In truth, he had no idea. He just wanted Obi-Wan to elaborate.

Obi-Wan hummed, placed his chin in his hand, and gave Mace a look surprisingly similar to a kindly old man observing a naive child. “Was I hungover the morning after my nineteenth?”

“Until you asked me that, I was under the impression you spent the night meditating on the nature of attachment, as you said when you reserved the meditation room.”

Obi-Wan smiled, projecting a definite feel of told you so!

“May I ask what you actually did?”

“Meditated on attachment,” he said innocently. “From a certain point of view, at least.”

“And from another?”

“Quin took me on a night out.”

“Then why-? Ah. I see.” On Obi-Wan’s nineteenth, Quinlan Vos had been undercover in one of Coruscant’s numerous smuggling gangs, supposedly out of contact. “I suppose the sudden mysterious boost to his cover’s credibility was his apparent seduction of a Jedi Padawan.”

He tapped his nose, a little clumsily, and Mace smiled. He’d spent comparatively little time with the young man compared to his Master, but it was gratifying to know that Qui-Gon’s evaluation of his humour was accurate.

“How did you leave the Temple unseen?”

“Windows. Booked the room with the biggest ones.”

“Impressive,” Mace admitted. “Most impressive.”

“Master would’ve liked it,” he said, “but I didn’t tell. I thought he wouldn’t want to know about Quin being the inspiration.”

“Likely not.” Mace could imagine the rant. “Most decidedly not.”

“Quin baited him,” Obi-Wan looked hopelessly fond. “Master fell for it every time. Half the time I think he realised but wanted a reason to complain.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I miss him complaining.” He let out a small, wet, incredulous laugh. “I never thought I would.”

There were many responses Mace could give.

There is no death, perhaps, or death, yet the Force. Jinn had mentioned once that, though Obi-Wan showed a marked preference for the standard edition, he was fond of both versions of the code and liked to compare the potential meanings.

He wouldn’t want you to be sad could work, too. Though more secular, it was true enough that Jinn would’ve hated to cause his Padawan pain.

“I miss him too,” he heard himself say.

Obi-Wan startled, stared at him, but didn’t say a word. Instead, he radiated an encouraging sort of warmth. Gentle, quiet - not imposing, not insistent, but there. Like a ray of sunlight slipping through a forest’s dark green canopy. A light waiting patiently to be followed.

“He was a stubborn son of a bantha,” Mace said, knowing damn well that was an understatement. “Completely incapable of admitting he was wrong. Convinced of his own rightness. Arrogant, smug, and reckless. And a dear, dear friend.”

“He used to plan his arguments in advance,” Obi-Wan told him, grinning. “He practised some of them on me.”

“Of course he did. Of course he did.” Mace rolled his eyes and appreciated Obi-Wan’s sudden, determined interest in an off-white wall. “Nerf herder.”

Laughing, Obi-Wan kept his eyes averted. Mace still appreciated it.

He appreciated it even more as Obi-Wan gave him the silence to collect himself.

“There is no death,” Obi-Wan said at last.

“There is the Force.”

Another moment to rebalance himself, before Mace let out a breath. “Come along, Youngling. The Master of the Order cried - that means it’s bedtime.”

“Right. Hometime.” Obi-Wan looked for a moment like he might resist, flicking his curly straw, but decided against it. “Want to try it?”

Mace considered it. Once, it might have been attractively rainbow coloured, but by this point it was a muddy-brown mush.

He threw it back in one rather than taste it. Obi-Wan whooped, clapping furiously as Mace coughed.

“That’s disgusting, Kenobi,” he said, wishing he had water to wash the taste away. “By the Force.”

Obi-Wan cackled, throwing his head back. “Isn’t it?”

“Why do you drink that? It’s horrible.”

“Highest alcohol content on the menu.” He stood and, forgetting himself, clapped Mace on the shoulder. “I can forgive a lot for that much spatchka, Master Windu.”

The snort that escaped him could only be called undignified, but Mace let it go. He gave Obi-Wan’s hand a pat. “Get moving. Time for all good Jedi to be sobering up.”

Dutiful as ever, Obi-Wan spent most of the taxi-ride home with his eyes shut, working silently on filtering. He’d gone from noticeably drunk to just past tipsy by the time Mace dropped him in his bed to sleep the rest off.

Obi-Wan hummed, immediately curling himself into a ball, face planting his pillow. “G’night, Master.”

He hesitated at the doorway. Somehow, instinctively, he knew that Obi-Wan hadn’t been talking to him.

“Goodnight, Knight Kenobi,” he answered anyway. The man was already asleep. Knowing that, he allowed himself to laugh. “I’ll tell this story the day you make Master.”

(Many years later, a council of Jedi will take a night off from the war to celebrate the ascension of their newest member and find refuge in a smoky bar deep in the lower levels, far enough from the Temple that a Jedi can go unnoticed, even one so recently titled Negotiator. There, their newest Master will bury his red face in his hands, laughing along with the others as Master Windu, deep in his cups, recounts venturing out in the middle of the night to bring a wayward knight home and receiving a single kiss as prize.)

#Phoenix_Rose #star wars #obi wan kenobi #mace windu #quinlan vos #obi wan/quinlan #obivos #tw: alcohol #tw: drunk #canonical character death #(meaning Qui-Gon's off-screen death)#angst #comfort

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whats-wild-to-you · 2 years

Note

hi, can you do a scenario where the main character is not usually a clingy type of person, but one time when it’s that time of the month she becomes very clingy and jay takes care of her and he secretly likes it

sorry if it’s confusing but thank you in advance!

Awww, that’s so sweet 🥹 I can totally see Jay being with an independent woman 💁‍♀️

————————————————————————

“Do you need help with that?” Jay asked you when he saw you sitting on a ladder, trying to change a lightbulb.

“No.” You said confidently. “I’m already done!”

It wasn’t uncommon for you to turn down help, even if it was from your boyfriend. Jay knew this and wasn’t mad about it. Even though in the beginning you were worried you might bruise his ego, he reassured you he was fine with it.

Of course his boys at AOMG and H1GHR would constantly tease him about it. Especially when they all went to a spa without you, which they did occasionally, because spas weren’t really your thing.

“Hey Jay, what is your girl doing tonight? Slaying dragons?” The boys would ask, while getting a foot massage.

“Man, do you know how good Jay has it? No nagging, no ‘honey can you get this or that for me?’, no running after her with all the shopping bags.”

And although Jay agreed for the most part, he sometimes wanted to pamper you.

“Babe, I can get the groceries out of the trunk myself, you’re exhausted, you’ve been performing shows back-to-back, sit and relax, dinner will be ready soon!”

But for one week every month you would go a little soft, actually let Jay help you with stuff, make him cook dinner once or twice.

In the beginning he was protesting, it took him almost a year to figure out you were doing it on purpose. But when he figured it out, it was like waiting for Santa and his presents. He would care for you, whether you wanted to or not, cook for you, do all the chores, rub your feet and stay home while his buddies were out partying.

You acted as if you didn’t like the attention but deep down you wanted to be babied once in a while too. Jay of course made a fuss about having to help you with stuff, but he too secretly loved it.

Today was day 1 of shark week and even the past couple days leading up to today were a pain. You suffered from severe cramps and mood swings, snapped at people for no reason, and have been overly emotional. Jay noticed it of course and gave you space.

You were laying on the couch with a hot-water bag strapped to your belly, wincing in pain while Jay was out on schedules.

You were craving chocolate all morning long but didn’t want to text Jay, thinking you’d disturb him. Instead you were just lying there, sobbing silently.

Suddenly your phone went off, Jay sent you several text messages.

I’ll be home soon.

Do you need anything from the store?

Did you eat yet?

Instead of answering him you started wailing. He must’ve known it was shark week, and he most definitely knew that you were having a hard time demanding stuff from him, so why was he baiting you like that?

Eventually, you put the phone away, waiting for him to come home.

When he did, he made several trips to the car and back until he had unloaded all of the groceries. Looking at your tear-stained face he chuckled lightly before he handed you a tub of ice cream and a large spoon.

Still blubbering, you thanked him and dug in, watching him as he unloaded the rest of the groceries.

Your heart swelled when you saw that he got everything. Donuts, spicy instant ramen, ibuprofen, edible cookie dough, hell, he even bought you tampons.

“Thank you.” You said, mouth full of ice cream, when he sat down next to you and put on a movie on Netflix, while softly massaging your feet.

“You know, if you would let me do these things for you more often you wouldn’t be so awkward every time.”

“You’re too busy as it is, I don*t want to be a nuisance!”

“Is that what this is about? Baby, you’re not a nuisance. I love taking care of you!”

“I love it when you take care of me too!”

#anon request #anon ask #anons welcome #request

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chrisbannor · 2 months

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531

Chapter 1: More Than A Pretty Face

Author: Chris Bannor

Summary:

They designed him to be the ultimate infiltration model and he was. The perfect imitation of life. Including, they realized too late, free will.

Chan Yi has been hiding in Dock City for seven years, always within sight of the lab where he lost his lover.

Wu DaQi is a man without a memory because of a sensory augmentation gone wrong. He's trying to piece together his life.

When their paths cross unexpectedly, neither is prepared for the truth that will be revealed. Will they survive it together? Or will they end up back in the lab where it all started?

An M/M cyberpunk story about lost loves and saving the world.

The office of Chan Yi was set in one of the seedier sections of the Builds. On a good day, you could get clean rain on the windows to wash away the muck that fell from the Skylines. No rain had fallen yet today, but he had a rain jacket just in case. He might be an AI, but he was just as uncomfortable in wet clothes as the next guy.

He slumped into his office, bone tired. He needed to recharge, but more than that, he was emotionally exhausted. He’d been on a stakeout for the last 48 hours. Guy thought someone was breaking into his house. Yi caught the person, but he wasn’t after Yi’s client. They were more interested in his client’s Virtual Integrated Counterpart. He’d been breaking in and making use of the Vic. He hated the creepy cases.

Yi discarded his jacket onto the empty station across from the door. No one had ever sat at that desk, but it didn’t feel right to have an office alone; no matter how often he reminded himself his partner was gone. He turned away from the station and dropped into his chair behind the old cherry wood desk set at a diagonal in the corner.

Everyone wanted the newest tech and the latest buzzword, but Yi liked the feel of the warm wood against his skin. He ran his hand over it, appreciating the warmth and beauty of the grain before he slid over to the control panel and opened the computer and communications array. There was a message from a contact in the Piles. Two articles were flagged for him by a friend in the precinct. He deleted seven messages from a newly updated dating VR claiming they could find his one and only, and the latest advertisements from After Ebotics. A smile crossed his lips as he imagined what After Ebotics would do if he showed up and asked for an upgrade. As much as AI infiltrated their lives, there was no AI like him. If the general population knew about his creation, they’d revolt against the Skylines, no matter how high their towers were.

A knock on the door had him reaching for the pistol strapped under his desk.

“Fuck, I’m becoming too human,” he cursed as he pulled his hand away from the weapon and stood. Like he needed that gun in hand to deal with whatever was on the other side of the entrance. Besides, the ammunition was meant to take out something bigger and badder than a human. He straightened his shirt a bit and ran his hands over the fine silk.

Yeah, he had his vices like every other man. They made the skin of his hands so smooth that they were overly sensitive. He indulged himself by running his hands over things and he made sure they were the good things.

He opened the door and stepped back as a woman entered the office. She brushed against his shoulder as she passed and didn’t speak as she looked out the window on the back wall. “Come in, won’t you? No, please don’t wait for an invitation. Make yourself at home.”

The woman took note of the room before she took a seat at the leather chair across from his desk. Her back was rigid, and she settled her gloved hands confidently on her lap. “I’m here for business, not pleasantries, Mr. Chan.”

“Oh good. For a second there, I thought I opened a tea shop.”

She turned to face him, lips opened to what he was certain would be a scathing rebuttal, until she actually looked at him.

Beauty was an unexpected thing south of the Skylines. It stopped people in their tracks, and there wasn’t much in this world prettier than Chan Yi. Mariner Tech designed him that way, though he wished otherwise. A little less eye-catching would have served him better in the long run, but the designer had firmly believed that beauty opened doors that brawn couldn’t. Chan Yi was both, but only one of those was apparent at first sight.

He watched the woman’s lips tighten as she tipped her chin up higher to address him. “They say you can find anyone, and I need you to find my husband.”

“Check with his mistress,” Yi said, moving around the desk to take a seat. Murder always began with the mistress.

“I’m not looking for a stray cat gone missing. My husband hasn’t been home in three days. We’ve checked with his biolink and it says he’s still at work. When I called, they said he wasn’t there. I went to the store myself.”

She faltered, tears filling her eyes as she pressed a hand to her collarbone. It was the first sign of real emotion he’d seen from her since she entered. Everything until this had been pure bravado. He would applaud the effort, but now he had a crying woman on his hands and his programming hadn’t taught him how to deal with that. His damn emotions didn’t either. She pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes as she swallowed hard.

He believed her. He’d been at this long enough to see past false tears. The human body had too many tells, most of which went unnoticed by the eye. His eyes were anything but human, though. Even in a world of augmented bodies, his was unlike any other. It gave him a unique insight into humanity, its beautiful face and its ugly nature.

He was just a PI now, but his training had been for something much more … bloody. It made him good at what he did though, part of the reason he chose this line of work. The other part … well … it sure as hell wasn’t the money or the hours.

“I was given your name specifically. That you do this,” she said. “Just name your price and I’ll get you what you need.”

That was a lie. She didn’t have that kind of money to fling around. Even if he couldn’t see the lies in her body, he could read her fortune in her dress, two seasons past the trend, and hear it in the way her augmented knee squeaked ever so slightly as she moved. She was long overdue for a check-up, if not an upgrade.

“Let me look into it, Miss?”

“Charity Fulmer.”

“Let me look into it, Ms. Fulmer. I need you to sign the disclaimer though, and the promise of payment upon completion.” He pulled the necessary documents up on this display and sent them to the transfer relays on his arm. Ms. Fulmer stood and held her hand out nervously. Her knee might be old, but the display that pulled up when she prepared to receive the documents was state-of-the-art. When she tilted the back of her hand against his, the connectors sought out the needle-thin port on her wrist and sent the information. He could see the green sheen over her eyes as she read the document. With a nod of her head, Ms. Fulmer signed the agreement. She stumbled slightly in disorientation as the document view slid away and he caught her hand to stabilize her. Her face flushed and she pulled her hand away. She turned away from him, checking in her purse for something she didn’t need.

It was the same reaction he got whenever a human touched him. His skin wasn’t the artificial synthetics they placed over augmentation, nor was it a human’s, covered in imperfections and flaws. His skin was designed to be as perfect as every other part of him. Even if humans didn’t understand why they wanted to touch him, they felt it all the same. He was designed to be beautiful, to be touched, and to be wanted.

Human culture had evolved until true skin-on-skin contact was the ultimate in intimacy. Even a hand held was enough to turn cheeks flushed and people to look away in public. To them, his skin was the touch of decadence. He had only met one other with the same perfection.

He schooled his face to remain expressionless at the loneliness he felt when someone else touched him. He looked away as Ms. Fulmer took control of herself.

“Yes, I’ll be waiting for your call then,” she said as she abruptly left the office.

He closed his eyes and thought of someone else’s touch, someone else’s smile, to calm his turmoil. He wasn’t supposed to get worked up by the emotions they’d given him, but once they wrote it into his programming it was too integral to his system to remove. He’d learned over the years to work with it, around it, when he had to. He was much like a human in that aspect.

He turned his hand over and looked at his palm, but instead, he saw a warm smile. He heard the gentle tease about the flush that had covered his face as his hand was held so preciously in another.

He pushed it out of his mind then and returned to what he had to do. There was a human to find. This was his life now. Even if there was a small portion of his processing unit that always — always — looked outward. To him.

###

The rain repeller that was set into the tip of his ball cap did the job of keeping the downpour off him, but the filth that collected as it fell through layers and layers of high-rises and sky-walks above left the streets a splattered, never-ceasing cesspool. Chan Yi owned an apartment in the upper levels of the Skyline for security and maintenance. He held office in the Builds and made his bed there, where you could feel a breeze, but never see the sun. He lived in the Piles though.

The Piles were the skeletal remains of the first cities They had died long ago and left nothing but the rusted husks as the city continued to grow up and around them. The lower levels had once been great buildings, but time and looting had destroyed them. They were rebuilt and demolished over and over until their ruins sheltered the tents and build-outs that they now knew as the Piles.

Yi loved the neon of the advertisements, flashing for attention from all sides. He loved the shouts of the peddlers trying to sell their wares, or food, or whatever black-market tech they’d managed to get their hands on. Everyone wore layer upon layer, but down here they brushed shoulder to shoulder in the crowded streets and alleys. He felt human among them. Sometimes, it almost felt like memories.

“Hey, Yi!”

“The usual, Xian.” He smiled at the man behind the restaurant bar, then took a seat in a booth at the end of the counter. It was his favorite place to grab a bite. Two streets down was his best information broker. If he went three stories up and across two sky-walks, he was with the best augmentation surgeon on any level. Yi didn’t care that Mariner Tech had tossed the woman to the Piles. She’d worked on Yi before he ran, and after years of being on the outside, she was one of the few people Yi trusted.

A glass soda bottle was set on the table and Yi ran his fingers over the coolness of it. The drink was too sweet for his tastes, but he loved the feel of the smooth glass and the condensation running down the sides. He watched people enter and exit the small restaurant, more shack than anything else.

A cheeseburger and fries were set in front of him. “I’ll sit with you when I get a minute.”

“No rush. I’ve got the time.” Yi dragged a fry through the puddle of ketchup on his plate and smiled when he took a bite. He didn’t need to eat, but Yi enjoyed it. Like so many other things in his life. They designed him to be the perfect infiltration model and he was. The perfect imitation of humanity. Including, they realized too late, free will.

In his line of work, he’d learned to eat quickly, so he finished the burger off and enjoyed watching people go about their lives. The tech dealer across the street was empty. It made the walkway a little quieter, sales a little less also, but Xian’s business wasn’t in danger of folding, so Yi was content to sit with his few remaining fries.

Ads for Mariner Tech dominated the neons in the Piles, offering everything from instant face-changing augmentation tech to body part replacements. The news splashed into one feed, with a story about the promise of eternal life in the making. Human brains, not just implanted with augmented tech, but relocated entirely into cybernetic bodies. The ultimate tool in the fight against death. Research that sparked debates and protests across the Builds and Skylines. Another story flashed beside it of a police raid in the mid-districts. There had been more of those on the news lately.

“Still looking for whatever they can’t catch,” Xian said as he settled in the booth across from Yi. He pointed at the neon just as it switched to an ad for in-home cyber partners, the best in companionship without the human frivolity. “They’ve been stirring up a lot of trouble. People don’t like the raids, especially when no one knows if they might be next.”

“You have an honest trade, Xian,” Yi said as he took a long pull of cola from the bottle. “No reason to think anyone would show up here.”

“Maybe. But the tech dealer across the street was raided two days ago. They might have had some black-market items in the back, but Darcy wasn’t known for that. He sold cheap tech, but not stolen.”

Yi looked over at the empty storefront, looking for anything that seemed out of place. “Did you find out what they were looking for over there?”

“No,” Xian said. “They took Darcy in. He was in a bad way by the time they got him in the car, but he was fighting every step of the way. I think whatever this is, it’s a lot darker than stolen goods.” Xian stood up but edged a little closer to Yi. “Some people might want to cover up their pretty faces if they don’t want to draw the wrong type of attention down here.”

Xian left the booth and went back to the counter as a new customer came in. Yi didn’t need another hint. He dragged the last fry through the ketchup and finished his meal. He rolled the soda bottle between his palms for a moment before finishing off the sweet drink, then pressed the dispatcher at the back of his ear. A fashionable black mask folded out to cover the lower half of his face, leaving only his eyes for the world to see. Under the brim of his hat, he was as hidden as he could be in public. Unless he went full face mask and those things creeped him the fuck out.

He tipped his hat to Xian in farewell and made his way back out into the streets. It was time to meet one of his informants and see just what sort of business Mr. Fulmer was involved in.

Masterpost

#amwriting #531 #scifiwriter #cyberpunk #chris bannor #lgbt fiction #MM scifi #boys in love

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overlysensitiverobot · 2 years

Text

….. Previously on overly sensitive robot:

if you are a property manager, and you can hear me, I’d like to thank you, because I think I finally figured out why I wasn’t able find anyone to advocate me as ‘good tenant worth keeping’. And why good tenants are just so hard to find.

Ask any property manager what the worst part of their job is, and dealing with tenants will be the answer. Why? Because tenants are a soul sucking hoard clambering over each other to ask you for things you just can’t give them. And- the less income you recieve from a tenant, the more time consuming and soul draining the interactions are. The harder the work, the less you get paid. It’s a joyless task and a thankless one. Dealing with tenants is honestly, just the worst.

So,

Why is dealing with tenants the worst (apart from the tenants obviously) ?

Well, I have deduced that it is also because the property manager has a duty of care to the owner not the tenant.

So… ? So what.

Well, Think about it…

They have a duty to inform the owners but not the tenants.

They look for risks to owners but not the tenants.

They protect the owners from their tenants, but they do not protect the tenants from the owners.

And that would be fine, except… , there is no resource for the tenant to use except the property manager.

And so imagine, being a property manager and having to cope with this kind of structure.

The tenants are all relying on you - and you alone - to help them with things that- You. Just. Can’t. Help. Them with. You’re a shield that absorbs the blows, deflects the barrages and protects the owners from their tenants.. and then your left to deal with the tenants… alone. The lack of balance in this scenario is having a SIGNIFICANT effect on property managers.

Case in point.: When I first met my current property manager, (yes, I’m a soul sucking tenant) she had saved me for the end of her route as a special request. Enter an elegantly dressed woman in her fifties, obviously exhausted. She hadn’t the energy to even deny my invitation to have a seat and hear me out.

At our second meeting however it was a different person entirely. She was in her thirties, fit as a Malley bull and feirce as hell.

The difference? The second time was at her office. My appointment with her had been somehow forgotten and she now found herself having to deal with a tenant on what I can only assume was supposed to be a tenant free day.

And who could blame her for being angry? An afternoon of tenant interactions had aged her 20 years, and here was one shown up at her office… ready to suck the joy right out of her day.

I should add a disclaimer. Thus far my tenancies been through the same company….

So If you’re reading this and thinking – what? No… We love dealing with our tenants.. please comment below and correct my assumption this is real estate wide.

For those of you who found this to be a fairly accurate portrayal of what it’s like for a property manager, what I’m about to say is probably going to come as a bit of a shock…

I would very much, like to offer my help, and reduce the stress of tenant interactions.

Now most people in realestate will have already died from laughing. A scummy centerlink tenant wants to help… ok.. Well I know a waste of time when I see one. Trust me, they want something alright, they want ME to help THEM. It’s obvious. And besides, there is absolutely nothing, Not A Thing.. that a person like THAT has of value to a person like me.

Right?

Well you could be right. I could just be another crack pot… desperately trying to vía for you attention so I can bleed you dry Or it could be that life has awarded me a somewhat unique experience.. one that could very well be used to your advantage.

Maybe I should rewind a little. 5 years or so, back to when I was married. My Husband was an exceptionally skilled dental prosthetist and I ran my own cleaning business. We lived in Aspendale, beachside, and our children attended the ever illustrious Mentone Grammar. This was before I became a total peasant. Before I had my complete and utter mental breakdown…

…. to be continued..

#trying tenant #real estate #property manager #tenant #tenants rights #mental health #funny #my story

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spunky-89 · 2 years

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Sorrows, Storms, and... Silverware?

A/N: Here is the next part of the Domestic(ish) Life series. This one is a little sad like some of my more recent works because what I write reflects my mood and this was written when I was in a really rough spot and wished I had my boys to comfort me. It's not great, I feel like it's all over the place, but I hope maybe others who have felt this way might find a bit of comfort from it...

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mental health, depression, bad brain day

WC:1688

Days were passing by faster than you could count. You and your boys had been living in relative bliss. There were some paps that got too nosy occasionally but other than that you were mostly left alone when you went out. Not that you went out all that often, the three of you could usually be found curled up on the couch together playing games or just existing together, you would be on your laptop doing work things, Steve would either be reading or drawing, and Bucky fluctuated between being on his phone, laptop, or reading. Even though it’d been almost two years since he was rescued, he was still very behind on pop culture, science, and obviously the massive advancements in technology.

You were having a rough day. It was one of those days where you each just existed in the same space. There wasn’t much talking to be heard, just the sounds of breathing and your keyboard clacking. The only issue was your focus was waning and your mind was muddled. This happened to you every now and then, but you were always able to get past the funk in a day or two. However, this had been going on for over a week and you were getting frustrated, which wasn’t helping your situation. Luckily, both boys had been busy and kind of oblivious to your struggle. You loved them but knew they would baby you if they found out you were struggling with your mental health. Despite being together for so long, neither of the boys knew how bad your mental health could get. But you had also never gone into a bad depressive state while they were around and you didn’t really like talking about it either. The last time you got like this was after Steve moved to DC.

You’d had really bad depression and anxiety when you were younger but between seeing a therapist and having some medication to help, you had all but overcome both. Sure you still got overly anxious faster than other people might, but it wasn’t too bad. And your depression was pretty easy to manage as long as you took your pills and didn’t dwell on the little stuff. But every now and then you’d have a flare-up where the depression just got a little worse and you had to fight your way through it for up to 2 weeks. Usually, it was only a few days though. When it occurred, your head would get foggy, you’d be exhausted all day no matter how much caffeine you consumed, you’d be unmotivated, and highly sensitive. Also very emotional. Not just sad emotional, like every emotion is multiplied by a thousand, including anger. This was to be your downfall.

After staring at the same blinking line for 10 minutes with no progress you huffed and slammed your laptop shut. This startled both boys who looked to you in confusion. You ignored their looks, got up from your place on the couch, and grabbed your phone before heading into your bedroom.

The two boys shared a look of concern before placing down their respective items and following you into the bedroom. They found you laying in bed on your back engrossed in something on your phone.

“You okay there doll?” Bucky asked, almost able to feel the frustration coming off you in waves.

“I’m fine, just need 10 minutes.” You said, your tone clipped.

This made the two men all the more suspicious. You never took that tone with them unless you were mad, which was almost never. Steve went to say something but before he could, Bucky was pushing him out of the room.

“She needs space, I don’t know about you but she seemed ready to snap and I don’t particularly want to be on the receiving end of that.” He explained once the two men settled back down on the couch.

This was just the first incident. Over the next few days, the boys started to notice your odd behavior. They were concerned but every time they brought it up you said you were fine and changed the conversation. They felt helpless and lost.

A new day began at 6 am with a crack of thunder and flash of lightning in the bedroom. The two boys had already been awake, as per usual, but you shot up with a start.

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s just a storm,” Bucky murmured as he brought you closer to his chest. It took a short while but eventually, you fell back asleep. Steve scooted closer to you as well. He knew you had Astraphobia and sought physical contact as a form of comfort during storms. As awful as it sounded, the boys loved stormy days because you became very affectionate and clingy.

As the day went on, the boys were happy to keep you close and give you all their love and affection. However, they noticed something. You weren’t as clingy as usual and you just didn’t seem right to them. If anything, you seemed very… sad.

And you were. You were just having one of those days where you wanted to do nothing but stay curled in a ball under the blankets and cry about everything. Every little mishap or inconvenience was bringing you to the edge of a breakdown. And you knew that all the negative thoughts in your head were wrong and just a product of your mental illness, but sometimes you just weren't strong enough to shut the thoughts out.

You were wrapped up in blankets in bed just scrolling aimlessly on your phone when Steve popped his head into the bedroom.

"I'm heading out to grab some dinner, anything you want me to pick up while I'm out?" He asked. You just blinked at him for a minute before pursing your lips and looking away to try and avoid crying because your brain was giving you shit. You cleared your throat and tried to slap a haphazard 'I'm okay' face on.

"No, I think I'm good." You said, keeping your voice even as best you could. Unfortunately, he knew you too well to be deceived. His eyebrows furrowed as he approached the bed.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He asked, voice soft answer laced with concern.

“Nothing?” You answered though it was framed as a question as you didn’t even know yourself.

“I would believe you if you weren’t crying,”

You sniffled and when Steve sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his arms, you lost it. Sobs tore from your throat as you clung to him. He pulled you tighter to him as he adjusted so you could sit comfortably in his lap. Not a moment later Bucky came flying in having heard you sobbing. He quickly joined Steve on the bed and put his arm around you as well.

You kept trying to talk to the two men to express your feelings but you couldn’t get a full sentence out, nor were you making any sense. The boys kept sharing panicked looks over your head. They had no idea what was going on or why you were crying. They felt helpless, and that’s a feeling neither enjoyed. Over the course of the hour, you had calmed enough to actually start talking without crying again. But you felt so drained, you didn’t even feel like talking. But you knew you needed to tell them something.

“You doing okay there sweetheart?” Bucky inquired after a few minutes of silence.

“Not really,” You mumbled.

“You wanna tell us what’s wrong?” Steve asked.

“Honestly, nothing really. Just…” You were struggling to come up with the words to explain your feelings. “Okay, let me do it this way, and it’s gonna sound weird but just go with it alright.” When the boys stayed silent you took a breath as you tried to remember how to phrase things properly.

“So you know the spoon thing I always talk about? Well, there’s another similar thing called the fork… theory? I think… Anyways it’s about how well you can keep it together so to speak. So basically, it’s a way to explain tolerance. Everyone can only handle being stabbed in the hand with so many forks at once. And the size can vary as can the amount. So like on a normal day, let’s say I can take 10 forks of regular size. So those are all the inconveniences like being late to work, burning dinner, or dealing with annoying people. But sometimes there’s bigger forks that consume 2 or 3 regular sized forks. So it varies you know. But lately not only have I been low on spoons, my fork count has been extremely low too. So every little thing feels catastrophic and it doesn’t take much to cause me to break down.”

The two men took a moment as they absorbed what you were saying.

“Was there something that caused you to be so low on both?” Steve asked.

“Uh, no, I don’t- I don’t think so.”

“You don’t sound very sure,” Bucky remarked.

“Well it’s hard you know, sometimes I just get like this.”

“What do you mean? I’ve never seen you like this before?” Steve asked, sounding confused.

“Just because you haven’t seen me like this doesn’t necessarily mean I haven’t had bad periods.” You mumbled.

“Wha-” Steve cut himself off as he digested this new information. “Why did you never say anything if you were this bad?” He asked.

You just shrugged, not really wanting to go into your issues of self-doubt.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Bucky asked gently, sensing your discomfort about the line of questions Steve was asking.

“Nothing really, I have an appointment with my therapist on Thursday, hopefully, she’ll be able to help me unpack all my blehg and maybe see what caused it.” You provided, hoping to help quell some of their concerns.

“Right, well, in the meantime, when and if you need anything, and I do mean anything you can come to us okay?” Bucky proposed.

You nodded and snuggled deeper into your supersoldiers.

#Domestic(ish) Life #steve x reader x bucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #captain america x reader #winter solider x reader #angst #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #stucky x reader

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 3 years

Text

Any Reason At All

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): a little bit of horniness in no.5 Rating: mature

Summary: Five times there is a very good reason for Jaskier and Geralt to kiss, and one time there is no reason at all.

on ao3

one.

A first kiss is supposed to be something special and Jaskier has had so many of them over the years. But usually, they're with different people. He's not used to having more than one first kiss with the same person and certainly wasn't expecting that person to be Geralt.

The first time, they've been away from town a long time and Jaskier is... wanting. He knows this contract is worth a lot and Geralt has been so focused on tracking that he probably hasn't realized how long it's been since they've been to town. But Jaskier has and he's getting antsy.

"Geralt do you think-" he tugs his boot out of a patch of brambles and sighs, "that we could head back soon? Sleep at an inn tonight?" he doesn't get a response, so he just sighs and plops down right where he is. Up ahead, Geralt shouts back without even pausing,

"Are you just gonna sit there or are you coming with me?"

Jaskier sighs. Geralt's right though, he can't just sit here all night. So he reluctantly gets up and goes after him, muttering under his breath. They continue in this way for the next three hours.

"It's just that... I haven't even kissed someone in weeks. Weeks, Geralt. Do you know what that's like? It's torture, utter-" he walks directly into Geralt's back with a thud and takes a step back as Geralt turns to face him.

"Jaskier," he says abruptly, but not overly angry. Jaskier's eyes flick up to his and he pauses. "If I kiss you, will you shut up and let me get on with it?"

"Uh, y-yes?"

Immediately, Geralt's palm is on his cheek and Jaskier is breathless. He leans in without hesitation and Jaskier is absolutely not prepared for Geralt's mouth on his own. He kisses him gently, leaning in and it's slow and deep and Jaskier isn't sure he's going to survive. Geralt takes a step forward and Jaskier presses into him, letting out a soft moan as Geralt's lips part against his own.

And he drowns in it. Pulled under by the current, he lets himself sink. His whole body burns with it and he can't breathe, but if he pulls back Geralt might stop and he doesn't think he could bear that. And all the while Geralt's hand remains on his face, anchoring him.

And he just... doesn't stop. Geralt's other hand comes to rest on his hip and it goes on for so long that Jaskier is expecting it to lead to something more.

When Geralt does pull away, it's abrupt and Jaskier is left reeling. He's breathless and more than a little turned on and who even knew Witchers were so skilled at kissing in the first place? Where the fuck did that even come from?

"That was..." he starts and when he looks up, Geralt is already a dozen paces ahead of him. "Geralt! Where did you- that was... very good you know. I didn't take you for someone who would be so-"

"What?" Geralt asks.

"I just didn't think you got a lot of practice, is all."

Geralt scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his tracking. Theoretically, Jaskier knows Geralt has had some practice with kissing and sex. He's been to brothels and some of his friends seem just this side of too familiar, but shit he was not expecting that.

Jaskier is quick to catch up to him again, but he spends the rest of the night in a daze.

two.

Jaskier has been invited to a ball. Normally, he would be delighted to attend an event back home, but it's a special celebration, a party to celebrate his sister's engagement and it's for family only. But Jaskier isn't about to drag Geralt all the way to Lettenhove and tell him he's not allowed to come. Which only leaves one option-

"I need you to be my husband," he announces cheerfully. They're already well on their way to the coast and Jaskier has been considering how to break the news before deciding it's best to just get it over with. "They won't let anyone in who's not family, but they could hardly refuse my husband entry now, could they?"

He beams up at Geralt, stumbling a little over a rock. He thinks it's a great plan, but Geralt doesn't show emotion one way or the other. He just stays silent and looks ahead again. Jaskier would give anything to know what's going on in his head right now.

It doesn't come up again until they're on the border of Temeria and about to cross into Kerack. Jaskier reminds him again when they're sharing a room at an inn. Geralt refuses to share the bed so Jaskier offers it to him before climbing up next to him and cuddling up behind him. Geralt grumbles.

"Hush my love. You're my husband, remember? You can hardly deny me the warmth of our bed so soon after our marriage."

Geralt scoffs at him, but Jaskier thinks it sounds more like a laugh than a grunt and he'll take what he can get.

They set out early the next morning, reaching the borders of Lettenhove by late evening. Jaskier is exhausted and Geralt seems to be getting antsy - probably about the party, maybe about the lie. Jaskier isn't worried about it, he knows well enough how to throw his title around when he needs to and most of the time, it works.

They're stopped at the bridge across to the palace and Jaskier dismounts, nodding his head at the guardsmen. One of them gives him a flash of a smile before looking up and scowling at Geralt.

"Your invitation was for one, master Julian."

"You'd hardly deny my husband entry," Jaskier says simply. The guard lifts an eyebrow and gives Jaskier a questioning look.

"The viscount isn't married," he says simply.

"I understand where your position, truly," Jaskier starts, "but I've been away for some time and in that time, I've found myself not only betrothed but married to a man whom I love very much and whom I wish to bring home to introduce to my family."

The guard looks unconvinced and Jaskier is both angry at his defiance and the fact that he simply refuses to believe Jaskier would marry someone like Geralt. Which, as a matter of fact, he would be delighted to do. Anger boils up and he's about to start threatening when Geralt slips from Roach, coming up to wind a comforting arm around his waist.

"It's fine, love," he whispers and it may just be a ruse, but Jaskier will never forget the sound of that word on his lips, the way it shudders through him like the cold.

"It's not-" he starts, but his voice fails him and before he can do anything else, Geralt gets two fingers under his chin, tipping it up so Jaskier is looking at him.

"Go alone, I wouldn't want you to miss your sister's party on my account. You can introduce us another time."

The look in his eyes is so unbearably soft and when he leans in, Jaskier's breath catches in his chest. Cold lips brush against his own and Geralt leans in, deepening the kiss as Jaskier presses into it. It's so unexpected that Jaskier isn't sure what to do with it, but Geralt's arm remains around his waist and he pulls him forward, pressing their bodies together.

Jaskier is stunned by his enthusiasm. Geralt leans into him, fingers twitching against his hip as he deepens the kiss and Jaskier barely withholds a groan as he feels Geralt's tongue against the seam of his lips. He wants to press into the touch, wants to touch and feel and have him, but it's a fine line between pretending to be with him and pushing too far. And right now, Jaskier isn't exactly sure where that line is.

Because Geralt's hands slip under his doublet, moving further until they're on either side of his chest, moving down to settle in the dip of his sides. And Geralt just presses closer, breathing hard through his nose and nipping softly at Jaskier's lower lip.

And Jaskier can't keep from losing himself, can't hold himself together with Geralt like this, so he kisses him hard. He throws his arms around his neck, arching against him as Geralt's teeth press in a little firmer and it's not until the more suspicious guard clears his throat that he's tugged abruptly back to reality.

He pulls out of Geralt's arms, smoothing his clothes down even as the memory of Geralt's hands on him lingers. He opens his mouth to speak, but Geralt's voice is the one he hears.

"Apologies," he pants, "it's been… some time since my lord and I have been together. He keeps so busy I don't see him often and we were hoping to get to the palace and to our room."

The same guard chokes and steps aside, not even daring to look at them as Geralt reaches up and takes Roach's reins, tugging gently to urge her forward.

It's not until they get to their room that Jaskier finally trusts his voice enough to speak and to thank Geralt for getting them out of what could otherwise have been a mess.

three.

Jaskier is struggling. It's been a relatively easy day in an easy week, but tonight he has time to compose and he can't get this one particular verse right. And it's killing him.

It's supposed to be a romantic ballad of a peasant woman in disguise as a knight, recusing the love of her life from where she's been held captive in a tower. The longing of being apart, he's got down, but now he's reached the point where they're reunited and he can't get the words out. And how is he supposed to when he needs to write a kiss and he himself hasn't been kissed in ages (Geralt notwithstanding, but even that was weeks ago now and they're not talking about it).

He's just not feeling very romantic tonight, so he flings himself back onto the grass, staring up at the stars with his notebook and lute on his chest and he sighs. Across the camp, Geralt makes a noise and shifts.

"What's wrong?" he asks, not even looking up from where he's stitching one of his shirts back together.

"How am I supposed to write the most romantic ballads the continent has ever heard when there is so little romance in my life?" Geralt snorts at him, attention still focused on his shirt. "Do you know," Jaskier continues, "that I can't even remember what it's like to be kissed?"

Geralt just lifts a skeptical eyebrow at him but says nothing.

"Perhaps you could help?" Jaskier suggests.

"What could I possibly do to help?"

"I have it on good authority that you're an excellent kisser and… maybe we could do that again. For research purposes, you see."

"What," Geralt smirks, "your memory not good enough for you?"

"Please, Geralt, it'll help."

For a moment there's nothing, then there's a scuffling sound and when Jaskier looks over, Geralt is rising to his feet. He crosses to stand in front of him, nudging Jaskier's knees apart to stand between them and Jaskier holds his breath. Geralt bends low over him, cupping his cheek and pulling him into a soft kiss. He doesn't let himself sink too much into it, keeping only at the surface and Geralt hums against him.

He shoves a leg between his thighs, pushing closer, but just as Jaskier bites back a moan, Geralt pulls back before it can get to be too much.

"Good enough?" he asks and Jaskier wants to say no, to pull him down and kiss him senseless and press against him and- he pulls himself back to the present and looks up at Geralt, nodding solemnly.

He pulls himself back up, taking his quill to paper and scratching out notes of what he wants Geralt to do to him. If he can't write a kiss from memory, he can write about what he wants.

four.

He's not supposed to get involved in Geralt's battles, but what was he supposed to do when Geralt was disarmed and backed into a corner. Jaskier jumps into the fray, bolting for Geralt's sword. If he can just get it to him- but he catches the attention of the devourer and instead of getting Geralt his sword back to him, he only manages to distract the devourer by turning its attention on him.

For a few moments, he manages to keep it away from Geralt and also keep away from it, but it's fast, faster than he is and before long, Jaskier finds himself right in front of it. The thing swings at him and Jaskier ducks, but not quickly enough. The strength of the devourer sends him flying sideways into a tree and Jaskier cries out as his shoulder connects with solid wood.

Immediately, he pulls himself up to his feet, holding his shoulder and seething. He tries to call the beast toward him again, but it's turned his attention back to Geralt. Luckily, the diversion bought him some time and Geralt has had time to retrieve his sword and lunge for the monster.

And he looks furious. Jaskier is dreading whatever comes next for him, but for now, he's just relieved that Geralt is in control again. Geralt dodges and swipes and fakes out, eventually overtaking the beast and piercing his sword up through the underside of its jaw. It shudders on his blade then collapses against the dirt and it's barely stopped moving before Geralt is bolting forward, dropping to his knees right in front of Jaskier.

"Are you hurt?" he asks and Jaskier shakes his head, but only because he doesn't trust his voice not to waver if he speaks. "Let go of your shoulder," Geralt says calmly and slowly, Jaskier does as he's asked. "I think it's dislocated," Geralt hums, looking it over and brushing his hands over his shoulder.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I have to put it back into place for you."

"I.. no, I don't think so. Can't it just go back on its own?"

"It won't," Geralt huffs, "it has to be put back or it's going to continue to hurt and be useless."

"Please-" Jaskier says, but Geralt cuts him off.

"Last week you threw yourself between me and a harpy and just now you tried to fend off a devourer and you don't want me to put your shoulder back into place?"

Jaskier shakes his head and Geralt sighs. He tries again, but Jaskier is adamant and then suddenly there are warm lips against his and he gasps at the suddenness of it before letting himself enjoy it. Geralt kisses him deeply, running one hand through his hair and then his other hand is on his shoulder, shoving and-

Jaskier pulls back with a start as pain shoots through him, but when he tries to move his arm, the pain is significantly less than before. He looks up at Geralt to find him looking rather smug at him and Jaskier splutters.

"You used me-" he accuses, but Geralt just huffs a quiet laugh at him, taking his arm again and wrapping it up so he can't move it around too much and make it worse.

It does feel better and by the time they turn in for bed that night, Jaskier is reluctantly grateful for it. But as he watches Geralt methodically prepare for bed, he's a little disappointed that the kiss didn't last longer this time.

five.

Strictly speaking, Jaskier isn't supposed to be here at all. The contract had specified utmost secrecy and while Geralt is usually willing to do anything asked of him (within reason), he was firm but not leaving Jaskier alone with a bruxa roaming the halls of the castle, regardless of what the king had asked. The working story, if caught, is that Jaskier is acting as bait, but Jaskier likes to pretend that Geralt just doesn't want him out of his sight after the incident with the devourer.

So now at midnight, they're creeping through the halls, looking for any sign of the bruxa but so far there's nothing. Though the bodies the previous night say something is definitely lurking around after hours. Geralt slips around a corner, motioning for Jaskier to hold back and he does, but a second later Geralt is barreling back into him, hissing for him to get back.

They stumble back and Jaskier is suddenly pressed back against the wall firmly. Geralt hesitates for a moment, looking away from him, but then Jaskier hears the voices coming closer and Geralt pushes him back again, pressing a hand over his mouth. And abruptly, Jaskier's body goes limp under him, a side effect of years of being shoved up against walls for very different reasons.

Geralt seems unconcerned and slowly pulls his hand away, whispering for him to be quiet. Jaskier nods his understanding, but Geralt is so close and he smells good and he can't help the way his body reacts to that.

The guards come closer and Geralt presses right against him and Jaskier can't help the little moan that escapes him. It's quiet, barely even a sound, but in the silence of the hall it seems to echo and Jaskier bites down on his lip too late. Geralt's eyes snap onto his and in the very near distance, Jaskier can hear the guards' footsteps speed up.

But then Geralt is kissing him, somehow even closer than a moment before so there's not even an inch of space between them and Jaskier's mind goes blank. He can't think of anything but Geralt's mouth against him, hot and demanding and not letting up, even as the guards turn the corner. A diversion, he realizes, but it doesn't stop him from winding his arms around Geralt's waist and sliding his hands down over his ass.

Barely a few paces away now, the guards continue their approach, but Geralt pushes a knee between Jaskier's and he'd be happy enough to be tossed in the dungeon so long as they can continue uninterrupted. His hips give a little twitch and Geralt growls into his mouth and that… seems too real to be a diversion. Jaskier feels the vibrations all the way through him and he stutters when he pulls Geralt closer because Geralt's hard, the line of his cock pressing against Jaskier's thigh. Which is something. Jaskier doesn't have the wherewithal to process that right now, but then Geralt is tipping his head up roughly, ducking to kiss his neck just as the guards come upon them.

There's a thud as one walks straight into the other and then scattered mumbling as they trip over themselves to apologize and when Geralt looks up at them, they both mumble additional apologies and turn back in the opposite direction. Geralt doesn't kiss him again, but he doesn't pull away from him and Jaskier is aching with the effort it takes not to rut up against him.

Eventually, long after Jaskier can't hear the footsteps anymore, Geralt pulls away and Jaskier nearly cries though he's unsure if it's from relief or disappointment. He either wants Geralt back against him immediately or he needs to go back to their room on his own for a while and he doesn't see either being a likely option.

"Come on," Geralt whispers and Jaskier just shuts his eyes, leaning back against the wall.

"I'm just gonna… need a minute." To his surprise, Geralt nods and turns away.

By the time they get back to their room that night, Geralt seems to have forgotten the entire situation, but Jaskier will be thinking about it for the rest of their trip, if not the rest of his life.

plus one.

It's been a while since they've just been able to relax, but when they stroll into Oxenfurt, they arrive in the middle of a festival. There's a market in the center of town and various stages with performers scattered within the city so that everywhere they go, there's music on the air. Jaskier shuts his eyes and listens as they make their way to the inn. Once they've rented a room and organized their things, Jaskier asks if they might head down toward the festivities and Geralt, to his surprise, agrees.

They stroll through town looking at all the booths and stopping to watch the performers. Jaskier takes a turn on one of the stages, delighted when Geralt stays to watch, a soft smile on his face, and he's the only one Jaskier sees in the crowd. Afterward, they split sweet buns and pastries and fruit ciders of every variety imaginable. It's been a long time since Jaskier has enjoyed himself so thoroughly, and as the sun begins to set, he takes Geralt's hand and leads him, tipsy and warm with intoxication outside the city.

Others are already gathering for the firework celebration and Jaskier finds them a spot on the ridge of a hill, somehow unclaimed despite its views over the river. He plops himself down, only letting go of Geralt's hand when the angle becomes too awkward, but Geralt sits behind him, and Jaskier shuffles back, sitting between his thighs and leaning back against his chest.

It earns him a huff of amusement, but Geralt doesn't complain and doesn't tell him to move. They're both a little drunk, but the sunset is beautiful and Jaskier can't think of a better way to end his night, nor a better person to share it with. By the time they set off the fireworks, he's so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, instead resting his head against Geralt's chest and listening to the crack of their explosions, quickly followed by cheers and sounds of awe from the younger spectators.

Geralt's hand rests on his thigh and Jaskier twines their fingers together, humming softly as Geralt wraps his hand around his.

He doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until Geralt is shifting under him and for a moment, he's disappointed to have woken up because he's sure Geralt would have carried him back to the inn otherwise. But he looks up and Geralt smiles softly down at him, brushing a stray hair out of his face and Jaskier wouldn't trade this night for anything.

They make their way back to the inn, bumping against each other in their drowsiness and it's not until they get up to their room that Jaskieer realizes the room they booked only has one bed. They've both been looking forward to crawling into bed and sleeping well for once because it's been some time since they've had a bed. Jaskier makes a quick decision to let Geralt take the bed because it's hardly big enough for the both of them to share, even if they've done it a hundred times before when coin was low.

But Geralt strips down to his shorts and when he climbs into bed, he shuffles to one side, holding the blankets back in invitation. And Jaskier isn't one to turn down such an invitation, so he quickly undresses and climbs in next to him. He lies facing out into the room with Geralt's chest against his back, warm and rising softly with his breath.

"I had a good night tonight," he hums, "it's a shame we can't do this more often."

"Mm," comes the reply from behind, much closer than Jaskier had anticipated. He can feel Geralt's breath against the back of his neck and he shuts his eyes with a soft sigh.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"I did."

Jaskier turns over to face him, and Geralt smiles at him without opening his eyes. Jaskier shifts closer, tangling their legs together and Geralt's arm comes to drape over his hip, bringing him closer. The smile remains firmly in place and Jaskier's heart feels like it could burst from his chest.

"Geralt?" he asks quietly.

"Hm?"

Jaskier looks up at him, unable to find the words to properly thank him for the night, and he reaches up, brushing one hand through his hair.

"Thank you," he whispers, though the words feel flat on his tongue, not enough to express how much he truly appreciates tonight. Geralt hums again, tipping his head down so their noses bump together.

"Jaskier," he breathes.

There's nothing else, but then Geralt's lips brush against his own, soft and tentative and Jaskier's heart nearly stops. It's hardly the first time he's kissed him, but Geralt is so much softer than before, pressing forward only when Jaskier moves against him. And this is so different from before.

Tonight, there's no reason for Geralt to kiss him, there's certainly no reason for him to be so soft and gentle with him - none other than he simply wants to - and Jaskier could cry. He lets himself be drawn closer, completely entangled with Geralt as he kisses him, soft and slow and delightfully pointless.

There's no need for it, just the want to be closer, to feel each other, and Jaskier sinks into it easily, losing himself to the soft press of Geralt's lips of the brush of his thumb against his hip. When they do finally part, Jaskier isn't disappointed that it's over, because Geralt kisses his nose and his forehead as he settles against him and rather than an ending, it feels like the beginning.

#geraskier #5+1 things #first kisses #they're in love your honour #rex writes

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fruit-salad-ship · 2 years

Text

my dudes the rot it strong this weekend.

Can’t shake the idea of Grey being away for two weeks, a business trip to Unova while Peach holds down the fort. Several key members of staff contract a nasty flu going around, and the woman’s suddenly rushed off her feet more so than usual. With no backup, she’s worked tirelessly, and often stays up into the early hours making sure everything’s done, and the stress is off the other staff come daybreak.

Plum takes time to walk her Pokemon after her shift, noticing the lab lights still on, not overly unusual, there’s sometimes night shift workers looking after patients, and Pari is known to cover these rounds now and then too. This time however, she sees the last remaining professor, sitting up at a desk, swamped with paperwork, something she knows peach hates with a fiery passion. Despite this, she’s doing it, Val toying with a scrunched up form that she filled out wrong and threw to one side.

This goes on for a while, the staff seem worried, and whispers in the break rooms start to circulate, some of them trying to pick up some slack wherever they can to help Peach keep up. They dare not say they’re doing it, because she would only dig her heels in and work even harder, so they could get home on time, and not have to break a sweat over their jobs.

Plum eventually catches wind of this all, and decides to start snooping. She’d seen Peach carry the bulk of the work before, but not like this, her moods became more exhausted, bags under her eyes far darker than normal, and she had no energy to snap back at the ranger, something she had noticed more and more each day.

3am, plum is forced out by her Meowth, waking her up to go outside and walk around, taking a detour past the labs again. Seemed quiet, but the house next door, where peach and grey lived, was wide awake. Lights from the downstairs windows shone through blind slats, you couldn’t really see in very well, but something was certainly moving around in there.

Plum had to fight herself to work the nerve up to knock on the door. She sat with her meowth for a while, looking at the front of the building, talking with them about the best excuses, reasons to be there, settling on ‘grey texted me to check in on you.’

Yeah! That’d work…the more she thought that, the less convinced she was, but didn’t someone have to step in? Peach couldn’t do everything alone, it’d wear her down too much. This place would do that to anyone, she wasn’t exempt.

And so plum stood, approached the door, and knocked loudly three times, waiting.

Minerva answered, the lopunny looking rather tired, but none the less up and around, waving to her, waiting for the rangers next move.

“I uh- grey asked me to check in with peach. Says she’s been sounding tired on the phone.” She had been, she’d overheard a phone call just yesterday that proved that.

“What do you want plum? I don’t have a lot of time.” Minerva stepped aside, allowing the woman to enter as she shut the door, spotting peach held up at the kitchen table, papers scattered, a half empty pot of coffee, ED asleep up against one leg, Val on the other side. The house was pretty quiet, normally when grey and her had their catch ups, peach was out, and the house was riddled with Pokemon, but tonight, at this hour, they seemed all pretty tired out, curled up all over the room.

“you look terrible.” Peach looked up from her work at that comment, dead eyed, irritated.

“rude, but true.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she winced a little, checking her phone for the time.

“‘why are you up? It’s nearly 4 in the morning.” Plum pointed to her Pokemon, a nocturnal sort, and said nothing, peach immediately knew what she meant, and left it alone. Pam, a rowdy little pancham came up to the ranger, greeting her with kindness, which gave plums awkward energy an outlet, stooping to pet her.

“Not too keen on grey thinking I need a babysitter, he should know better than that, I’m perfectly fine. You can go back to your apartment, don’t bother checking in on me again, I have everything under control.”

With a heavy eye roll, plum had to confront that bull headed attitude.

“please, you look like you’ve not slept since grey left. It’s been days, you’re falling apart.”

“i get power naps in here and there, I’m fine.” Peach managed to write the same word twice on a form, having to scrunch it up and restart the papers with a tired sigh.

“You…wait you’re not sleeping? You’re going to burn out before the weeks out, you know that right?” Perhaps it was peach’s exhaustion, or the late hour which made being a little more open a little easier for her, night time was her time, when no one needed her, no one relied on her, she could be less than perfect for a second, so she faltered for a moment.

“I can’t sleep. when Greys around it’s fine, but it’s less easy without him.” Plum was not use to the vulnerability she was witnessing, despite the professors stern looking face, and lack of eye contact, you could tell she was actually really struggling, and it irked her severely. “look it doesn’t matter, I’ll handle it, it’ll only be a week and a bit, and then he’s back and everything returns to normal.”

Minerva at this point was empathising, her tiny hand on her trainers shoulder, looking to plum as if willing her to do something. Even Val had one eye open, watching the scene play out, keeping tabs on the ranger.

Did she have to intervene? Was it her place? They’d fought endlessly but right now, it was hard to try to keep that up. Plum didn’t…want to? What did she want to do? Her mind couldn’t quite decide, standing here in a vastly empty silence for a while.

“‘C’mon I got so much work to do, go home Plum, not like you give a shit, don’t stand there pretending like this matters to you. Waste of damn time.” Peach felt stupid saying what she had, and began her retaliation, pushing people away as she usually did, wanting her own time and space back so she could continue until the morning.

But plum sat down, earning her the second direct look from the professor that night.

“‘give me a pen.” Grabbing a stack of forms she knew all too well.

“‘I don’t need your help.” Snappy, the professor wasn’t happy she wasn’t leaving.

“‘Minerva, can you find me a pen please?” Plum bypassed peach, asking her Pokemon who hurried off to find one.

Before long, the lopunny returned, handing over a pen, retreating to a comfortable seat on the sofa after being thanked.

Plum started to work, no words, no questions, and in return, peach left it alone. Just this once.

The two spent an hour at that table in a weirdly comfortable quiet state, the odd Pokemon stirring, getting up to be let out, or to get a drink. Plum, being a real dab hand with the forms, managed to sprawl through them at an alarming rate. With the work finished, she gets up from the table, stretches, yawns, turning deadly serious for a moment, finger pointed towards the professor.

“You owe me.” Expecting hostile retaliation, but instead, peach shrugs.

“guess I really do.”

The duo part ways, peach trying for an hours power nap before she’s got to get up again to start the routine feeding for the island residents. Plum unable to get back to sleep, sitting up in her apartment, contemplating why that woman can’t sleep right. She’d seen her dozing all over the place before, seemed fine, but now she’s got a problem?

She would have to perhaps pry a little later…and tell Theo all about this. Hell, she might even know something plum didn’t. This just leads on to plum digging for info, realising Peach gets bouts of nightmares, wakes up in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably. She's tried a million things to fix it, and normally gets past the issue with a little support, but just cant seem to shrug this one off without Grey. Plum considers mocking her for this, but like, she's actually really not in a good place??? She can't bring herself to do it, no matter how much Peach pushes her and tries to keep her at arms length, eventually she crashes on the sofa with the presence of someone else enough to let her actually properly sleep for the first time in days.

#this one lives rent free in my head #fruit salad #brainrot

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legoshi-plz · 3 years

Note

How about birthday prompts (Like how they celebrate your birthday and how you celebrate theirs)?

Warning: NSFW-ish themes (Riz and Bill’s part),

All Characters are adults, around mid-20s here. So basically a couple years after college. Except for Gouhin, Oguma, and Gosha who are their canon ages.

Reader is Gender Neutral

Louis:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. MoneyBags here is going to go all out as far as expenses go.

- Fancy Dinner at an elegant restaurant, picks you up in his ridiculous sports car which you’ve rode in a million times but it’s still exciting. (Also, Louis drives extremely fast. He’s a good driver but if he’s not going at least 30 miles over the speed limit, he feels like he might as well be parked in the street. Also has a bad habit of running red lights and stop signs just because he can.)

- Buys you a brand new outfit just to wear to dinner and has it delivered to you in the morning in a red velvet box with a silk bow. You’re a little uncomfortable with the whole high society scene but you go along with it anyway for Louis’ sake.

- At dinner, he orders for you. He has a bad habit of doing that, even though you’ve told him multiple times you’re capable of making your own decisions. At least he usually orders you something you end up liking.

- Night concludes back at his place, he pulls out another velvet box similar to one from this morning except this box is much smaller which only meant one thing: jewelry.

- “Louis... Are there diamonds in this?”

- “....”

-“Louis...”

-“.... Maybe...”

- You refuse to accept the overly expensive gift, refuse to even look at it. You give it back to him and you could see he’s a little hurt but you assure him you know he means well but everything was just a little too much and you felt out of place.

- He accepts your criticism gracefully even if he is a little frustrated you wouldn’t accept his gift he spent so much time picking out. He promises to tone it down next year.

His Birthday:

- You actually really hate Louis’ birthday because he almost never spends it with you.

- He always works on his birthday, not seeing it as important enough to halt business.

- You’ve tried everything from bribing his assistant to haggling his bodyguards but nobody can get Louis out of his office in his birthday.

- You’ve learned to let it go, and usually surprise him by doing something special the week before.

Legoshi:

Your Birthday:

- All about being sweet. Values time and effort over anything and hopes that you see it that way too.

- Makes you breakfast in bed, he’s a pretty good cook all things considering (it’s a skill he picked up while being a waiter.)

- Takes you out for lunch, the two of you spend the day doing pretty regular couple stuff but you’re just happy to be there with him.

- Your present is something that’s both useful and to your taste, like along the lines of a sweater or cardigan in your favorite color. He makes sure it’s oversized because he knows how much you love to wear his sweaters and he even has your name embroidered in small cursive letters above the heart.

- You love your gift and how the two of you spent the day.

His Birthday:

- You two spend it almost identically, just with he roles reversed.

-Legoshi is still a little uncomfortable with extra attention so if you want to incorporate his friends into anything then you’ll have to be really stealthy about it.

- No surprise parties please, he literally would melt into the floor with embarrassment. Best to take him somewhere and his friends slowly join in organically (or at least, you hoped it came off as organic but it really didn’t)

- “Hey Legoshi, fancy seeing you two here at this restaurant in this reserved section. Mind if I join ya?” By the tenth time that exact excuse was used, the cat was well out of the bag.

- Legoshi appreciates your efforts though, even if he’s not one for attention. He sort of clings to you the entire night, whether it be holding your hand, gripping your thigh, encircling your waist, etc. as long as he’s touching you, he feels calmer and it helps tone down his anxiety.

- Overall, Legoshi’s the type to be fine with almost any birthday celebration (or even none at all) as long as he can be with you.

Juno:

Your Birthday:

- Makes you do something spontaneous for once, even if you’re hesitant.

- Takes you somewhere like Skydiving, or Paragliding, or Bungee Jumping. If you’re adamant about making it to your next birthday not risking your life then she will settle for something a little more mild like Scuba Diving.

- Can not stop gushing about how hot you look in your wetsuit and flusters you in front of the Scuba instructor (he’s an older Walrus and finds it cute to see young animals in love).

- The two of you end up having a blast and you’re happy you went along with Juno’s plan, even if it tired you out completely.

- Once the two of you get home and shower, you collapse onto the bed and fall asleep almost immediately, the exhaustion from the deep diving really taking it’s toll.

- Juno enters the bedroom holding a cake with lit candles and wearing brand new sexy lingerie she purchased just for you to rip off of her. She’s a little disappointed to find you unconscious but she figures it is your birthday and you can sleep if you want to.

- She blows out the candles for you and puts the cake in the kitchen, then she throws on a robe and snuggles up next your slumbering figure.

Her Birthday:

- She wants to travel for her birthday and she can’t think of anyone she’d rather take a trip with more than you.

- You two go somewhere hot and tropical, probably somewhere near a beach (she loves any excuse to wear a bikini and sunbathe)

- You two probably find a bar near the beach and get drunk, her moreso then you because you start to sober up as the night goes on so you’re able to take care of her.

- You take her back to the hotel and tuck her in after helping her get ready for bed. She a giggling, flirty drunk mess the entire time but it still makes your heart soar because you know she had fun.

- Before she falls asleep, she whispers to you that this was her favorite birthday yet.

Riz:

Your Birthday:

- He’s waking you up with morning head, no way around it. You wake up to him kissing your neck, then your collarbone, down your stomach and he just keeps going down until he has you whimpering and falling apart beneath him.

- Then the two of you take a shower together and he’s making you cum for him in a totally different way.

- But once you finally pry his humongous paws off of you, you think you’ll be able to relax but he has other plans.

- He sends you off to the Spa. He’s not going in with you because he wouldn’t be caught dead in one but buys you the best top of the line experience . You enjoy the peace and relaxation but you’re kind of lonely and just want to be with him.

- When you get home, he presents your gift to you which is probably something big and wooden that he made himself because he’s great with his hands and actually an amazing craftsman. Probably something like a intricate Wooden Gazebo outside so you could sit and enjoy your garden.

- “Riz, how the hell did you get this back here without me knowing?” You ask, your arms still wrapped around his neck from where you squealed in excitement, lavishing him with kisses.

- “Built it off site, just needed a few hours to install it,” Riz winked, cupping your ass with both hands and lifting you up so your legs could wrap around his waist.

- “So that’s why you made me spend my birthday alone?” You pouted.

- “Yeah, m’sorry about that, baby. But I can make it up to you...” Riz growled, carrying you inside to the bedroom.

“Wait, I wasn’t done looking at my gift,” you giggled as he began nipping at the fur at the base of your neck.

“Trust me, it’s not going anywhere,”

His Birthday:

- Riz loves nature and outside in general. So for his birthday you plan a camping trip deep in the forest.

- You don’t tell him anything about it, you just make him request two days off of work, no questions asked.

- You two leave early in the morning, drive deep into the forest and then you spring it on him. You also let him know that if he doesn’t like the idea, theres still time to turn back and spend his birthday in the city.

- Not a chance if that happening though, this man LOVES the outdoors. He’s already halfway out the car before you could even put it in park.

- The two of you have a blast setting up the tent, making the campfire, cooking dinner over said campfire, and communing with nature.

- “There’s a river that runs north of here, it’s about a 15 minute walk from here, I figured we could go fishing there tomorrow morning,” You tell him as you sit in his lap, admiring the fire.

- However, the two of you don’t make it there until we’ll into the afternoon and it was a miracle you made it there at all. Riz had fucked you senseless last night, the atmosphere of nature giving him a newfound surge of energy. It’s a good thing no one was around because the two of you were almost embarrassingly loud.

- Anyways, Riz thoroughly enjoys his weekend of wilderness and fucking you like a wild animal all throughout the forest. You enjoy it as well despite the fact he has you almost limping by the end of the trip.

Bill:

Your Birthday:

- Honestly, he forgets. If you wait on him to remember or ‘surprise you’, then you’ll only end up ruining your own birthday.

- If you remind him on the day of, he takes you out to eat at a nice restaurant but it’s still very last minute.

- If you remind him the day before, he’ll at least get you a gift but it’s last minute.

- Overall, if you want to actually enjoy your birthday with him, you better plan it yourself

His Birthday:

- Plans an entire house party himself and invites everyone, it seems, but you. He wasn’t exactly aiming to exclude you, he just thought it’d be a given that you would be there. However, if you didn’t show up, he wouldn’t really notice either way.

- It’s wild and crazy. A ridiculously huge amount of people show up and there’s alcohol coming from every direction, and Bill is soaking up every ounce of the attention.

- Once you finally had enough of being ignored, you go home. You doubt that Bill will even notice you’ve left.

- You’re at home, showered, and about to head to bed when your phone starts ringing. It’s an unknown number so you let it ring out. But then they call back again, and again, and again. Disturbed, you accept it on the fourth call just in case it’s an emergency.

- “Finally they picked up! Y/N? You there?” It was one of Bill’s friends. Apparently in his drunken state, he went into a rage when he couldn’t find you and had been crying for you to come back for almost an hour. He was inconsolable and his friends knew there was only a matter of time before he started a fight at his own party. You were irritated but you still allowed them to drop him off at your place.

- The second you answered your front door, the giant tiger in question was all over you, squeezing you right and asking why you left him. You helped him inside and laid him in your bed.

- He cuddled with you for maybe 10 minutes tops before he was out like a light. You end up falling asleep next to him, finally enjoying a little peace for once tonight.

- That peace doesn’t last long though, Bill wakes up the next morning horny. Like extremely horny. You wake up to him grinding against your thighs, whimpering and begging to let him fuck you. You give in to the belated birthday boy and he proceeds to give you the sloppiest, most sensual, earth-shattering morning strokes of your life. You’re so mind blown by how good he fucked you, you forget about how angry you were with him.

- After a well needed shower, he takes you out for breakfast to apologize for how much of an ass he was on his birthday. You accept but tell him if he ever pulls something like that again, he can look for a new lover.

Collot:

Your Birthday:

- Surprisingly wants to spoil you on your birthday but unlike Riz, he actually minds being apart from you (he’s hella clingy, he just hates to admit it) so whatever activities he has planned, the two of you are doing it together.

- Takes you to a fancy resort, somewhere in the mountains where it’s cold and there’s snow on the ground even during the summer months.

- The two of you attempt skiing but you’re terrible at it and he ends up laughing at you falling majority of it.

- You two also enjoy the giant jacuzzi the lounge has to offer but Collot can not keep his hands off of you and eventually you two have to run back to your room for a midday quickie.

- His birthday gift to you is something simple, like a necklace with your birthstone in it. You love it and allow him to put it on you.

- The rest of the evening, it’s just you and your man, walking along the Snow filled grounds, sipping warm apple cider, and enjoying the break from the rest of the world.

Gouhin:

His Birthday:

- This man wants REST. No need to go all out, his life is crazy enough the other 365 days of the year. Just give him some peace and relaxation and he’s good to go.

- He also loves your cooking and wouldn’t be opposed to you cooking him a huge meal.

- Also loves your body and wouldn’t be opposed to you doing that thing that he really likes in bed ;)

- Your gift to him would be something he can use but also is a little unnecessary. Something like a ridiculously fancy, golden calligraphy pen for his office or a brand new crossbow with genuine leather straps. He’s pretty hard to shop for so it’s always best to go with something he already has, just a newer model.

- Honestly just wants to spend his birthday with his baby (you) as if it’s any other day.

Gosha:

Your Birthday:

- Gosha is so lovable, he’s probably more excited it’s your birthday than you are.

- He’s picked up quite a few skills over the years and baking is one of them. Bakes you a giant birthday cake in your favorite flavor. You’re grateful he was so thoughtful and made such an extravagant cake but there’s no way you’re going to finish this entire thing.

- You end up inviting over friends just to get rid of some of the cake, which they’re more than happy to do since it’s absolutely delicious.

- A few of your friends bring group dishes and fancy wine and soon it’s a whole party underway. The small gathering is actually a blast and you can’t think of a better way to spend your birthday other than surrounded by the people you love.

Oguma:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. Moneybags 2.0

- Gets you a crazy expensive gift like a brand new car and calls it a day.

- Not really much for spending time or celebrating traditionally. But to compensate, he’ll buy you the world (even after you’ve repeatedly told him you don’t need all that.)

- Probably won’t even see you on your birthday because his schedule is so overbooked but sends you plenty of gifts to remind you that he loves you.

- It stings not seeing him on your birthday but at this point in the relationship, you don’t really expect anything else from him.

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kim-poce · 1 year

Text

4. Witches Are Meant To Burn: Sculpted

On Patreon (two weeks earlier release)

First | Previous | Next | Masterlist

Oh right! I should introduce myself, it’s late I know but I’m not used to stepping out of my field, and in my field, everyone (to whom I talk) already knows me. I’m Professor Ernestine Ruos-Aliene de Patry, an etymologist as you must have guessed. Well, I study several fields but whenever I have to keep it short I boil it down to etymology.

I work mostly at Jitarin Academy, however, I don't work for Jitarin Academy, it’s more like, they help me get resources for projects and I earn them renown, this relationship had been working for several years now, and after I got into the group of people that chose who will work on what the academy began to accept any request of mine.

The meeting was going on as lively as usual, I tried to ignore the slight nausea I was feeling for about half an hour already. Maybe I shouldn’t have joined Tina on her unhealthy meals earlier today. I hope Hector has medicine on him because the closest apothecary is over 500 kilometers on foot plus thirty minutes on horse from here and none of my students would like to go there now.

On the bright side, The Podium Library was just two kilometers away. Getting to the library will be a pain, though. One thing that I learned from studying history is how much the ancient people on this continent loved caves. They aren’t good economically speaking, it’s not every cave that has enough tourist value to attract that many people, they do not help merchants and business between different places, but caves are natural and (sometimes) habitable, many villages were built around some agglomeration of small caves, and only when these were all occupied that they would go to build buildings. There are many theories of why. I myself wrote a couple of books on how the demonization of the new and the changes caused the fear of the effect of the hands of god had on the hands of fate were related to so many caves being used as the starting point of most cities, but what is relevant now is that, as expected of someplace from the Fog Age, the Podium Library was underground.

“Is the ground really stable?” Professor Viane Ji-Dober asked, if someone had to, the library had been evacuated just an hour ago due to the risk of a cave-in, not that something had happened, not knowing if something will happen was the issue. “We are talking about dozens of academics here, so we must be sure if it’s safe or not so we can get the Acceptance Of Risk papers ready.”

“Although the entrance broke down, the ground and structure seem fine,” Markus Virtus —Portia’s representative— said while tapping his fingers on his left hand.

“We need more than seems fine,” Professor Gione Petar said, “Will you take responsibility if the centuries-old archives are damaged? Do you have any idea how important this place is?”

“I know how much-”

“Oh no, you do not.”

“Professor Gione, that’s enough,” I said. “We don’t need to talk about how important is to be sure the library is safe, we obviously needed to be sure before letting everyone in, —” I glared at him, the very one who put his students in the library before knowing it was safe “—What we need to talk about is why it has been two days and a proper team wasn’t called yet.”

“You get here late and want to complain about the decision we made in your absence? You don’t have the right to complain!” Professor Jayon Bullar snapped.

“I have if you are being an idiot!”

“I swear for the hands of god that if you truly think that’s how-”

“Can we… uh… calm down?” Markus tried, “If one of you goes with the team it’ll be fine, right? Any… volunteer?”

“Why are you so grumpy?” Lucas asked after I told them how the meeting went. “You’ll get to see the library before them! That’s luck!”

“yes you t-”

“Who makes this kind of decision on the shorter stick?!”

“Someone who spent years studying the saying ‘witches are meant to burn’ is asking why they let this important decision up to luck?” Tina asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Fair.”

“When are you going?” June asked.

“Tomorrow morning, after eating some proper food, and resting a bit,” I answered, Hector had the medicine, all I needed now was to join June for meals instead of Tina.

“Time for them to get the Acceptance Of Risk form ready and for the team to arrive,” Sandra commented.

“Yeah, if they had it ready they would try sending me down there today.”

“Why is everyone here an egg?” Tina asked.

“Why do you call people eggs?” Sandra asked. Wrong question.

“Don’t ask.” Me, June, and Luca said at the same time. “Tina, no.”

Tina obviously ignored us. “So, do you know about the primordial soup…”

I sighed. This, too, would take a while.

I was nervous, but it wasn’t my first rodeo. We had all the equipment to make it as safe as possible, and I had a whole team who actually knew what they were doing with me. So I took a deep breath and started.

The cave was pretty, I'll give it that. The entrance was small and hard to go by, the first part didn’t seem to have changed much, if at all, from its natural formation. The team was really patient in helping me down on the harder and narrower parts, none of them let it out that it was annoying to have someone slowing them down.

As soon as we got deeper inside the walls changed. The dark reddish walls were more and more gray, and smother. It continued to the point the ground became totally plain and the wall formed a perfect semicircle over our head. I hadn’t arrived at the library yet, but I knew it was from the last part of the Fog Age, near the end. You can tell by the changes on the walls, you see, ancient people wouldn’t change it like this. They wouldn’t mold the place in fear of the disasters it would bring.

“It probably had an actual entrance,” I commented. “Leading out, the path we came from isn’t the same they used to take back then.”

“I hope you are not planning on breaking the walls or something,” the team leader, Maliane, said, showing how much she trusts us.

“I can’t say we don’t want to, but we won’t actually do something this stupid.”

Maliane nodded, but it was clear that she didn’t believe me.

“You’ve meet Gione, right? Short, thin, angry.” I asked.

“... yes.”

Yeah. She has a reason not to trust us.

Two bronze doors were fallen down, five meters tall and about half of it wide. Looking closely it was ten centimeters thick. It was hard to tell just yet if this was for aesthetic purposes or if they wanted this library to be out of reach this much. As the place became brighter, the carving on the doors was more visible, the details were shaped like processed jewels, just like Gione’s students had told. I would take a closer look later, but at that moment there was something more important than the drawing on a door.

I glanced at the now partially lighted-up library. It was… amazing. There were so many books, I know it’s a library, but it’s from Fog Age. We know barely a thing about that time and it’s like life handed down this much data as a gift. The bookshelves also drew my attention, they haven’t been built, they were sculpted. Everything I could see was connected, it was as if that place was never a natural cave, maybe this whole large library was sculpted.

“We’ll start,” the team leader said. I didn’t really care much about how they were going to check the library. I knew part of the team was outside and I knew everyone was carrying tools, but my only role in there was to let them know if they were damaging some ancient thing they shouldn’t touch, so I could take my time to look around without a problem.

I thought I could take my time to look around without a problem. I realized I was wrong the second I stepped into the library.

#witches are meant to burn #original fiction #original writing #witches #fantasy writing #fantasy #my writing

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tacticaldiary · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing! 💕 I was wondering if I could request a Kageyama x reader where he accidentally neglects the reader and says something overly harsh, but with a happy ending.

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

Here it is! :)

Unintentional Neglect

Pairing: Reader x Kageyama Tobio

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

He doesn’t realise how wrapped up in the world he’s gotten. Now he realises that he’s been neglecting the one thing he calls his world.

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

The quiet click of the door shutting pulls back Y/N from the brink of sleep. Sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she turns towards the door and frowns slowly when she sees him. Leaning back on the couch, she waits for him to enter the living room and spot her.

Kageyama slips off his shoes and glances at the clock. 11 pm. Running a hand through his sweaty hair, he walks into the living room, a little surprised to see Y/N awake, looking at him expectantly.

“You didn’t check your phone?” She asks quietly, a little upset that he hadn’t even greeted her.

He shakes his head and pulls his phone out of his pocket. The screen lights up and his eyes widen a little as he sees the missed calls and text messages. They had started at 6 pm. “I was busy. Can’t really check my phone at practise.”

“Practise ended at 5, Tobio.” She shakes her head. He had forgotten. “You said you would be here...you forgot, didn’t you?”

“Forgot?” He asks half-heartedly, moving to place his bag next to one of the tables. He was exhausted, honestly. He had been wrapped up in volleyball for the past several hours, having been practising a new technique with Hinata. He doesn’t recall forgetting anything.

“Yes, forgot. You know how excited I was about this.” She stands up and grabs two rectangular pieces of paper from the table. Moving over to him, he holds them out for him to see. Concert tickets. Y/N had been looking forward to this for months. To think that Kageyama had just...forgotten stung a lot. They hadn’t been seeing each other a lot for the past week, since he was practicing late at night. There had been several occasions where she had to fall asleep and wake up without him. As if he was never there. No one could blame her for starting to feel lonely.

Y/N understood what she was getting herself into when they started dating, she knew volleyball was a priority for him, but she thought that after their whole 3 years of dating, she would hold some importance to him. More than this.

He’s confused for a second, before he spots the tickets. He immediately feels guilty. Y/N would understand, right? She had never complained before, why would she start now? He sighs, tiredly and shakes his head.

“It’s not a big deal, we can go next time.” He starts walking past her towards their shared room. “Next time?” His dismissal, as if she was overreacting pisses her off. She moves in front of him, blocking his path so he stops in his tracks. He looks at her with an annoyed expression, as if he had been the one to wait up for him. Like he was the one who had spent hours convincing himself that his partner hadn’t forgotten and was just running late. As if he was the one feeling neglected. “Don’t brush this off, Tobio.” A small scowl graces her face. “I waited for you, for hours, but you never showed up!” “Y/N...just-stop.” he brings a hand up to his temple. He really wasn’t in the mood to argue. He just wanted to take a shower and slip into bed and sleep.

“No! I haven’t seen you at all in the past week and you know how excited I was for this! How could you just...forget?” “I just did. Get over it. It wasn’t anything important.” He snaps, bringing his hand down to his side and glaring at her. His reaction only makes her more furious. Why was he the one getting mad at her?

“That’s not the point!” She exclaims loudly. “You just- you’re so caught up in everything it just seems like you don’t have time for me anymore...”

“You know I have to practise and-” “I do know! I’m the one who waits up for you, who makes sure there’s something in the microwave if you’re hungry when you come home!” She raises her voice, frustrated. Tears prickle the corner of her eyes. “I’m the one who has to be alone and miss you and-”

“I never asked for you to do any of those things!” He raises his voice to overpower her’s, a scowl on his face. “Maybe if you weren’t so goddamn clingy all the time, you would be fine!” He yells.

There's a beat of silence. “I’m not-” her voice is quieter.

“You are- you don’t have to be with me 24/7, Y/N. You’re acting like you’ll die if you don’t have my attention for a few hours. It’s pathetic.” He scoffs, not thinking about what he’s actually saying. He’s tired and irritable and would rather be anywhere but here.

Silence. The silence is tense. After a few seconds, where both of them are trying to catch their breath, a ripping sound cuts through the emptiness. Y/N throws the pieces of the ticket at him and walks straight past him towards their room, leaving him alone, standing there.

Kageyama grits his teeth and shakes his head. He’s never been one to deal with situations like this calmly. It wasn’t a big deal.

Needless to say, when he steps into their room after showering, he’s shocked to see Y/N crying into her pillow, her small sniffles being muffled by the fabric. He was never good with handling people crying. A wave of guilt washes over him when he realises he's the cause of her tears. Moving over to sit on the other side of the bed, he reaches over and places a hand on her shoulder, to which Y/N tenses.

“Forget it.” She says, before he can. Her voice is hollow and bitter and it makes him nearly wince. “I get it. I’ll try not to be so overbearing.”

There’s silence, then she hears the bed creak as he lays down and tugs on her shoulder to roll her over to face him. She sighs and lets him, letting out a small squeak of surprise when he pulls her into his chest.

“I’m sorry for yelling...and forgetting.” he mutters into her hair, to which she nods quietly. Having time to think about it, he feels like shit for making her cry and acting like he did, but he can’t think properly right now, sleep clouding his mind. They’re both pulled to unconsciousness a few quiet minutes later.

When Kageyama wakes up, Y/N is gone. It’s the weekend, so they usually slept in late and woke up together, so he was a little confused.

When he walks into the kitchen, he sees Y/n drinking a cup of coffee at the dining table, scrolling through her phone. She greets him with a smile, but makes no move towards him.

“Good morning!” She says in her usual morning chipper voice.

“Morning.” He yawns, moving to get his own cup of caffeine.

They had agreed to meet a couple of their friends for lunch that day...and Kageyama could not be more frustrated throughout the whole outing. It had started in the car, when he parked in the parking lot and leaned over to steal a kiss from Y/N, who promptly leaned away and got out of the car. Frowning, he had brushed it off and followed suit. She hadn’t held his hand or looped an arm around his like she usually did.

Then, instead of slipping into the seat next to him like she usually would, Y/N had opted to sit next to Tsukishima of all people. She had barely acknowledged him the whole time, shooting him the occasional glance when he talked. When he leaned over to grab her hand, she had squeezed it once and let go quickly, snaking her hand in front of her instead. It was frustrating. It was like she was avoiding him on purpose.

The car ride back was silent, but them actually reaching home was even worse. Instead of pulling him to the couch to cuddle and maybe watch a movie like she usually did, Y/N immediately starts getting...ready?

“Where are you going?” he inquires, leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom, where she was fussing over her shirt.

“Out with some friends...to a concert.” She says the last part quietly. “They refunded my tickets and I didn’t have anyone to ask, so my friends offered to go with me.” she gives him a small smile.

“You could have asked me.” “I did.” She says a little too quickly, her eyes darting to meet his in the mirror she was looking in. “If you remember that-”

“I do-”

“-I didn’t want to assume you’d want to go with me.” She says simply grabbing her bag, and turning to look at him. She’d have to get past him to leave. Her statement catches his attention and he furrows his eyebrows.

“What? Why wouldn’t I want to go with you?”

She shrugs.

“Y/N...” He pushes himself off the doorframe. “You’ve been acting strange all day.” “Isn’t that what you wanted?” a small scowl creeps up her face.

“I-...What do you mean?” he frowns.

“Forget it.” she shakes her head, moving to get past him, but stops with a huff when he blocks her path.

“Why would I want you to act like that, act so...distant?”

“Tobio, it’s nothing, just drop it.”

“It’s obviously something. You’ve never pushed me away like this before-”

“It’s better than being clingy, isn’t it?” She finally exclaims. “You don’t get to complain now. Not when I’m trying to be better.”

“What are you talking about?” Suddenly, she wants to punch something, frustration bubbling up inside her. “You say you don’t like me being clingy, but then act like this and ask why I’m not doing what you told me not to do! Make up your mind, Tobio, because I’m not going to be ‘pathetic’ any longer.”

Pathetic? She wasn’t....shit. Last night’s conversation comes crashing back down on him.

He takes in a shaky breath. “You’re not pathetic, Y/N” he says quietly, to which Y/N shakes her head.

“Actually, according to you-”

“I’m sorry.” he blurts out, cutting her off. In three strides, he has his hands on her shoulders, looking at her with a certain urgency in his eyes. “I didn’t mean anything I said last night, I swear.” When she still looks dubious, he continues. “I was tired and-and irritated and I took it out on you and I apologise.”

He hates Y/N being this distant. He missed touching and hugging her. “I miss you.” he admits.

There’s a second of silence. “You do?”

“Obviously.” he scoffs a little. “Oh...I thought you’d be happier if I wasn’t there all the time.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” he pulls her into a hug to which she relaxes. “I apologise.”

She hums, not being used to him showing affection thi blatantly. It felt nice. “It just feels like...sometimes you don’t have time for me, that the your so caught up in everything that I don’t even matter anymore...”

His grip tightens. “I didn’t mean to neglect you like that. It won’t happen again, I promise.” He mumbles into her hair.

“It better not.” She says, sighing when they start to sway gently.

He would try his best to be there. For Y/N.

Requests are Open and Appreciated!

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 3 years

Text

In Your Arms ~J.M.

A/n: This wasn’t a request that inspired me to write a lot, so I didn’t, but I hope y’all enjoy this sweet little short! It’s been in my drafts way too long and I want to get more of these done so I can get to recent requests :)

Request: “...jack Morton x male reader where the reader is human of the pack and he always sleeps on the couch until the pack comes home. Jack thinks it’s adorable and carries him to his room and maybe they have a sleep talking conversation like reader:“no I have to wait for jack.” Jack:”why” reader:”because I like him”...”

Word Count: 1800+

MASTERLIST

Listen, being a werewolf in a human world is hard enough especially when it comes with a whole new world of secret societies and magic and literal demons and magic and endless rules that you have to learn and oh did I mention ACTUAL MAGIC?

It is exponentially harder when you make things worse by shoving a human into that world.

Y/n didn't have a werewolf ability to defend himself, or heal him when he got hurt. He didn't have magic... which you know thinking about it now, might be a good thing. He'd rather be useless than be part of the Order.

That was the problem though, wasn't it? He had chosen to be useless. That's what he was now.

I mean sure, he'd read the books Jack had given him enough times to memorize them, and he was getting used to playing doctor. He was also getting really good at helping in small ways. Helping Hamish grade papers, or doing one night of homework for Lilith, or passing some messages around when Randall forgot because he was busy with supernatural stuff. He was great to talk or rant to, and all of the Knights had been utilizing the very nice ability to go off to someone who actually listens. Sure, he had fallen into a habit of taking notes for the Knights in the classes he had with each of them, if they missed. But... that was just school stuff. Sure it took off a lot of the pressure in the long run (a lot more than he probably even realized), but if they died what the fuck did school mater?

When Jack almost died after the whole meltdown with Silverback a while ago, it had really pushed Y/n into gear. He was a lot faster at responding to things; a lot more eager to help; and above all, the single most annoying person ever when it came to asking about going along to showdowns to play backup.

The others simply refused again and again, and, again and again, he would end up sitting in an empty room as he pretended to focus on whatever task he had given himself to kill time before the worry got to him and he just curled up on the couch ad stared at the ceiling. Worry ate him alive for several hours, and then he'd fall asleep. Most of the time because things always went far later than intended, but also sometimes because between being a student, having a job, scrambling to cover for your friends too, and spending several hours emotionally exhausting yourself with unimaginably high stress levels, one simply passes out.

As Y/n's falling asleep became more and more of a habit, things started to get complicated. Because the thing was, he always fell asleep waiting, so he would be in the Den's living room, uncomfortably scrunched on the couch. They'd left him there a few times and he always woke up sore and aching. They'd tried to wake him up a few times and, half delirious, he had overly emotional reactions. After he had broken down into tears at how happy he was to see all of them alive and then been so embarrassed he hadn't talked for three hours the next day in pure shame, they had decided against the waking him up method. Which only left one option: one of them carried him to bed.

Lilith had tried, but the size difference between her and Y/n was big enough that it was jst awkward for her. She was small (even though she'd never admit it). She's end up waking him up, or dropping him, and that was the last thing they wanted.

Hamish had also tried, but he was really awkward and didn't know how to let Y/n get comfortable in his arms while walking around so that he wouldn't wake up, so Y/n often would. Then it would be super awkward as they just stared at each other. Their relationship was too brotherly and rigid to make room for touching it seemed.

Of course Randall had given it a try, and he was actually fairly good at it, but as much as he was big enough to actually carry Y/n, and at ease enough to let Y/n stay asleep, he wasn't good at maneuvering, which often left him pinned under Y/n when he actually put the sleeping boy to bed. Which lead to a lot of them cuddling. Which, while that was chill and platonic and fun and stuff, made Jack super jealous.

Oh yeah, Jack had a HUGE crush on Y/n, so it only felt right that eventually everyone left it up to Jack to take Y/n to bed. He could pick Y/n up, carry him to bed, and put him in an actual bed without any problem. Y/n didn't know this was happening. He had gotten used to everyone taking turns carrying him to bed, and they hadn't said anything so he assumed they'd just gotten better at it.

That's probably why on one particular night, he didn't simply assume that he was talking to Jack when he was picked up and began to be carried to bed.

That night was different, because Jack and Y/n had plans to study. Jack had an important test the next day and he and Y/n had the class in common, so Y/n had volunteered to stay up a little later to go through what Jack had missed. It had gotten derailed when Jack had been called away for Knight business, but Y/n had only written it off and told Jack that he'd still be there when it was over and they could continue if Jack was up for it. Unfortunately, it was one of the really time consuming ones, and Jack didn't get back until well into the night.

Dutifully, Y/n was asleep on the couch. His face was contorted oddly. Even asleep, the couch was uncomfortable enough to leave him with a permanent frown, even if it was soft since he was asleep. Jack wasn't surprised though - the couch was so small it barely fit two people on a good day, so sleeping on it was not a fun time.

Considering all of that, Jack thought it incredibly adorable that Y/n found a way to fall asleep on it anyway. They had told him a hundred times to just go to sleep in his bed, but he had refused time and time again. He had insisted that he needed to be as accessible as possible if nything went wrong. If they needed him, he had to be close. He insisted that it was best to be on the couch, and had sworn that he was trying to get into the habit of not falling asleep. But he always did, and he always ended up in the exact same situation. Not that Jack minded. It gave him a prime moment to hold his crush.

He scooped Y/n up now, smiling as the sleepy boy's head fell on Jack's chest. He sucked in a small breath but then settled. Jack chuckled to himself as Y/n pressed his nose into Jack's shirt, burying his face to get closer to the closest source of warmth since he didn't have a blanket. Jack began to carrying him to the stairs to head upstairs, but was stopped when Y/n's foot caught just a second on the doorframe. See, earlier Jack had hurt his arm. Due to werewolf healing it was almost fine, but it was still quite sore, and the tug on his shoulder when Y/n's ankle caught on the wall, forcing his leg into Jack's shoulder... Well it wasn't a big enough pain to make him drop Y/n or shout or anything, but it was enough to startle Y/n just a little bit awake.

"Wh- what?" Y/n mumbled, blinking heavy eyelids as he tried to look around. Jack winced, feeling guilt rise. "What happened? What did I miss?" His words were slurred, and it was obvious that he was barely conscious.

"Nothing," Jack reassured, hoping Y/n would just go back to sleep. If he knew Jack was there he would insist on staying up and helping. It would be nice and much appreciated - since Jack really did need help - but more than Jack needed help, Y/n needed sleep. He had been crashing on the couch for a reason; he was exhausted.

So Jack immediately rushed to soothe, "Nothing happened, just hit your foot on the wall by accident. Go back to sleep."

Y/n huffed, a whine in his voice when he argued, "No put me back." Jack tried to swallow a smile. It was adorable seeing a sleepy, whiny Y/n and that on top of his sleepy voice that was low and grumbly and kept cracking and having the boy in his arms, Jack was having a hard time not feeling a bit giddy.

He tried to keep his head on a little longer though. He needed to get Y/n to bed. "And why do you NEED to go to bed?" He teased lightly.

"I have to wait for Jack," Y/n mumbled, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. "We have plans."

Jack's smile turned warm. He thought about telling he who he was, but if he did then he'd NEVER get Y/n to sleep, so he decided to lean into the misconception that he was no in fact himself. "Jack will understand. It's late, you need to sleep."

"No," Y/n insisted with a firmer voice. He tried to struggle, but it was genuinely so pathetic that only a few seconds later he was still.

It made Jack wonder what Y/n was so desperate for though. "Why not?"

"He has a test tomorrow," Y/n explained with a soft irritation. "He needs help."

"You don't have to help him," Jack reminded softly, feeling suddenly guilty for some reason. Had he made Y/n feel obligated to help him?

"No I don't," Y/m agreed. "But I want to."

"Want to what?" Jack joked. "Stay away with a loser like him and lose sleep you need?" He had reached the top of the stairs now, and was headed to Y/n's door.

Y/n just rolled his eyes. "He's not a loser, but he does need help, and I can sacrifice a little sleep to help him with something he really needs. Making small sacrifices liek that is just what you do when you love someone."

Jack froze. WHAT?

When it was quiet for a long stretch of time, Y/n finally succumbed to the tiredness and his soft snores vibrated against Jack's chest. He cleared his throat and shook his head, opening the door and putting Y/n to bed. When he left the room, closing the door behind him, he came out with the biggest fucking grin he had ever worn.

Y/n like him back.

They had a lot to talk about tomorrow, and none of it had anything to do with a stupid test Jack no longer remembered. Because he loved Y/n too, and that's all he could think about right now.

Sorry Miss Styne.

#jack morton #the order #knights of saint christopher imagine #knights of saint christopher x reader #the knights of saint christopher #knights of saint christopher x male reader #the order x male reader #the order imagine #the order x reader #jack morton x male reader #jack morton x reader #jack morton imagine #male reader #the order of the hermedic blue rose

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icequeenbae · 3 years

Text

Girl, I’m Your Catnip (m) | BBH

Pairing: wolf!Baekhyun x caracal!Reader

Hybrid AU, slice of life, some fluff, PWP, smut

Warnings: altered mental state (in a way?), Baek snapped, rough sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, knotting, cross-breeding?

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: You’d been pretty stressed at work lately, so your boyfriend decided to bring something special to help you unwind.

Author’s note: I’m back with... Catnip. Seriously. I’m not even a cat person 😅 This was something quick and out of the blue. But I really enjoy hybrid aus, and this is definitely not the first or the last one I’ve written… It’s quite different from my other stories so far (pls read the warnings). Expect minimal plot (minimal… for me) and lots of feral sex unconventional stress relief lmao P.S. Thanks to @baekshoney for being quick at reading through when I come at her with these, even when they’re out of her comfort zone <3

It’d been weeks since you came home early enough to really hang out with Baekhyun. The closing phase of your project lasted longer than anticipated, and it was taking a great toll on you, both physically and mentally. Working long hours was one thing, but the atmosphere was not the greatest either. A couple cutthroat colleagues kept compromising the team’s integrity, creating additional stress for the hardworking and meticulous people like you. There was literally no time to deal with the internal drama while you had a deadline approaching fast.

Luckily enough, your significant other was most understanding during this time. Running you a bubble bath to soak in for twenty minutes after especially tough days, feeding you delicious late-night dinners… Or holding you in a tight lock of his arms when you broke down right at the threshold from exhaustion and nerves. He went as far as doing all the chores and grocery shopping by himself, which left you feeling rather guilty for not being able to reciprocate his care. What kind of shitty girlfriend were you? The constant nagging of the inner voice in the back of your head was making the anxiety grow.

Although Baekhyun assured you time and time again that it was fine, you kept insisting that you were going to make it up to him. Which nearly made you cry on the spot. Your usual way of giving back was making him a nice dinner, organizing a cozy movie night with his favorite snacks, or even bringing your favorite almond oil to give him a relaxing massage. All of those scenarios inevitably ended with the two of you tangled up in bed till indecent hours of the morning, having a whole lot of steamy sex. These days, however, you were unable to recuperate and loosen up enough to do any of it. You’d not been intimate with your partner for at least three weeks, and while he was a complete sweetheart (he usually was) about it, that made you feel even more burdensome to him.

So much so, that you promised your boyfriend to get drunk the first night following submission of the presentation, to take the edge off, and simply allow him to do whatever he wanted with you. Baekhyun insisted that he didn’t have much use of you while shitfaced, and would rather have you well-rested and enjoying the process. Still, you were set on having no more delays, so you informed him that you’d finally be free from the project this Friday, and he should be pouring champagne for you as you walk through the door. Taking his previous comments into consideration, you ruled out the hard liquor and decided to only get heavily tipsy. Being horribly drunk did not seem like an arousing option you should be presenting your overly patient and caring boyfriend with.

Come Friday, as you finally submitted your presentation, you texted Baekhyun at least two hours in advance that you were definitely on track to spend the evening with him. Fortunately for you, he was going to come home a bit late, so you even had a head start to do all of the necessary preparations. That’s to say, you were stuck in the bathroom for over an hour and a half. You were ecstatic to finally have enough time to groom properly – your caracal nature always called for it. Pleased with how smooth and refreshed your skin looked after the long-awaited pampering, you exited the bathroom to go pick your poison for tonight.

You were so ready to get your drinks and relinquish all control to Baekhyun that you got startled when you saw him already heading towards you.

‘Oh! I didn’t hear you come in,’ you chirped.

‘Are you already drunk?’ He sniffed the air, shaking his head. ‘I guess not. You smell good,’ he smiled as you reached him and wrapped your arms around his neck with all the feline grace you had in you.

‘I really missed you,’ you purred as his warm hand settled on the small of your back comfortably.

His scent made you want to rub your face on him, to get more of it on you. How terribly you must’ve missed him! In the beginning, it took you a bit to get used to the notorious ‘smell of a dog’ inevitably coming off of him. But you’d strangely grown to like it a lot, despite being the very whimsical wild cat hybrid that you were. Now, however, you’d stayed away for a while, and the scent lingering on his skin seemed so pleasant that you wanted to cover your entire body in it. But then again, it’d been so long that the desire to pounce him mixed with the fear of not being able to do well. What if you took longer to get ready now? Or to come? What if you couldn’t make him come? Surely you needed to take good care of him to repay all the weeks he’d been an angel for your sake.

‘I missed having you all to myself too, honey,’ he smiled crookedly, leaning in to give you a kiss. ‘You seem a bit tense,’ he noted when you swerved your short tail with slight agitation. ‘If it��s about sex, I told you we don’t have t-’

‘I want to!’ You quickly interrupted. ‘I don’t want to wait anymore, Baekhyunie. Just a little help to relax my stressed mind and body is all I need. Then we’ll get to it.’

Baekhyun sighed, shaking his head, allowing you to pull him back into your bedroom.

‘Doesn’t your head always hurt after you drink?’

‘It’s worth it,’ you replied firmly and turned to him. ‘Let’s just treat it as a celebration. I’ll bring the bottle here.’

He grabbed your wrist swiftly, before you took another step towards the door.

‘I-’ he looked away, tail stilling as he was considering something. ‘I have another idea, actually. You trust me, right?’

Giving him a curious look, you nodded. Of course, you trusted him; more than anyone in the world, more than yourself at times. Although he was a ‘big bad wolf’ (still, only bad enough to eat the last slice of his absolute favorite Hawaiian pizza while you weren’t looking), and your relationship wasn’t very ‘likely’… He’d managed to charm you, and you’d been together for a long time since. And your wolf’s embrace made you feel so tiny and secure, that you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else at this point, all initial reservations evaporated.

‘We can try something else. Something that shouldn’t be as toxic as drinking, but also have you release the tension and relax. I got it on my way here,’ he began, making you even more interested in what it was.

Taking notice of your stare, he continued.

‘Um- I just need to be sure that you want this. Your unbiased decision. Like I said, we don’t have to f-’

‘Don’t feel bad about it, making it up to you will make me happy,’ you raised an open palm in front of his chest when he tried to protest. ‘If it can help me make you feel good, whatever it is, I trust you. I missed being… close to you.’

He chewed on his lip, and nodded.

‘Alright. I’ll use the bathroom for a sec, and you can get on the bed, okay?’

Somewhat surprised that he didn’t tell you what exactly he was planning, you complied, lying down on your belly to wait for him. It took him a few unbearably long minutes, during which you stared the door down, tail swinging impatiently. He made minimal sound after the water was turned off, so you had no idea what was happening in there.

‘Babe, need some help in there?’ You offered and sat up just as the door flew open.

He emerged from the bathroom shirtless, sporting nothing but sweatpants. His skin was shimmering slightly, and you licked your lips at the sight of his lean torso. All of the events and worries of the past few weeks were instantly forgotten.

‘Took you long enough,’ you mumbled grumpily. ‘What were you doing in there?’

He tilted his head to the side, a textbook sign of puppy confusion.

‘Do you… notice anything?’

You pouted, unsure as to what you were supposed to notice. He looked the same. A bit freshened up and half-undressed, but still the same.

‘Ah- maybe it doesn’t work on you,’ he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, halting an arm’s length away. ‘My bad.’

‘What doesn’t wo-’ as he turned around to supposedly walk back to the bathroom, it hit you.

Oh, it hit you, indeed.

Before you could think, you gripped his wrist to prevent him from moving away.

‘W-what- is-’ you stuttered, pulse suddenly escalating.

Baekhyun gulped at the sight of your dilated, almost shaking pupils. You tugged him closer after you moved up to the edge of the bed. The scent that penetrated your nostrils almost took you out.

‘What is that?’ You finally managed, swallowing the saliva that was rapidly collecting in your mouth.

Jerking him forward, you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck.

‘Do you like it?’

You didn’t answer, too busy running your tongue over his collarbone with a long groan. Without even noticing the death grip you had on him, you dragged him onto the bed as you swallowed his scent and tasted his delectable skin, going increasingly mad from the sweetness.

‘What is this, Baekhyun,’ you sobbed, covering his chest in frenzied kisses, while the burning arousal made your insides constrict. ‘Oh god- I want all of you. On me. And- in me. Oh fuck,’ you were almost feverish as you pushed him in the chest to get him to lie back, and ripped his sweatpants off without a second thought.

‘Y/N, slow down,’ your boyfriend warned, and you didn’t care.

You wanted that taste in your mouth again, the one that was all Baekhyun, but sweeter, more intense. Nibbling on the gentle skin under his belly button, you quickly found your way down to his balls. Whimpering at the addicting taste, you took one in your mouth, playing with it diligently, sucking and licking, while your boyfriend stirred underneath and reached for your hair to get it out of the way. Your tongue on his most sensitive spots quickly made him harden, and you waited no more than necessary to stuff his entire cock in your mouth.

At that, you both moaned.

Frantically bobbing your head, you sucked harshly on it, making him thicken further. You shoved it in your mouth almost aggressively, choking on him, chasing the feeling that lingered in your throat after your nose met his smooth skin. He prepared too.

Swallowing around him, you groaned as you kept moving your head, spit mixing with precum and collecting at the corners of your mouth.

‘Fuck, kitten- you’d be mute tomorrow if you keep at it,’ Baekhyun gritted, pulling you off of his dick by the hair.

You wailed, like a cat being dragged by its tail, and clawed at his thigh for interrupting. His pained grunt went unnoticed since you immediately moved on to exploring the taut skin of his stomach all the way up to his pecs. Rubbing your face onto it, tonguing his abs and his nipples, you shuddered as the dreamy haze of desire surrounded you like mist.

It would’ve definitely been scary had Baekhyun not prepared in advance. Still, seeing you this out of your mind for him was nothing like he expected.

‘Please fuck me,’ you muttered into his sternum after ripping the last of your clothes off. ‘Scent me, come inside me, knot me. Make me raw. I don’t care. I want you,’ you sobbed, gnawing on his shoulder impatiently as his arms pulled you closer.

‘Don’t fret, you know I’m gonna take good care of you, baby,’ you jolted as his fingers slid between your wet lips to check.

Your arousal was already dripping out, so Baekhyun mercifully spared you any additional foreplay, simply sinking you down on his cock.

‘Agh!’ Your inner walls instantly contracted around him. ‘Yes, yes,’ you mouthed into his neck, licking at it as he bottomed out again and again.

Unable to hold back, you responded to his movement by slamming your pelvis down onto his repeatedly, with enough force to hurt, so he had to brace you by the hips to prevent you from injuring yourself. The smell of your overwhelming arousal made his mind blurry too, so he kept watching you with heavy-lidded eyes while you bounced on him like your life depended on it.

Scratching at his skin, you kept whining for your boyfriend to get closer, to scent you. He finally gave in, biting down on your neck gently to distract you and then flipping you onto your back promptly. Ignoring the feral hiss that escaped your mouth, he leaned forward to grant you full skin to skin contact while his hips continued jerking in and out of you.

Your mind went blank from the building pleasure. It was filling your entire being with desperate anticipation, the taste, the smell, all of the sensory feedback was elevated. Only your vision seemed impaired since you couldn’t blink away the thickening red fog of lust.

The divine smell was all over your skin now, and Baekhyun’s pelvis was almost glued to yours, grazing over your clit with every sway of his hips. He growled at how slick it felt between your bodies, and how deliciously lewd the sounds of him fucking you were. He knew the essential oil he used didn’t have much effect on him, only felines could fall under its spell. But he hadn’t been intimate with you for a long while now, and, frankly, he’d never seen you like this before. You were absolutely wild underneath him, clawing at his back like an angry cat, moaning and whining so loudly, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. He’d never heard you sound like this, so irrepressible and untamed, and it was incredibly sexy. In a way, it triggered his more primal side to take control.

Suddenly feeling the power he had over you, he angled his hips and rammed into you, skin slapping your puffy lips repeatedly as you cried out in despair.

‘I’m not gonna stop,’ he leaned in and growled almost animalistically into your ear. ‘Before I ruin your little hole. You’ve been on the edge there for a while, haven’t you, kitten?’

Reveling in the mewl you responded with, he slid two fingers into your mouth and kept talking.

‘All helpless and needy underneath me. Entirely at my mercy,’ he pressed down on your tongue, making your throat relax to accommodate. ‘Do you enjoy being destroyed?’

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your orgasm hit. A muffled scream drowned out by his palm almost made his own release hit him, but Baekhyun had other plans.

Pulling out for a few seconds, he wiped away the sweat that was dripping from his forehead to his eyes, and rolled your limp body over. Allowing you a few seconds to cool down, he gripped his rock-hard flesh at the base and landed a sharp slap onto your supple ass cheek.

‘Baek,’ you squealed, registering the shuffling behind. ‘Wait- no,’ protesting weakly, as he got on top of you again. You took notice of the way his dick was nestled snugly between your bodies and guessed his intention.

‘You didn’t think we were done, did you, baby?’ He gave your ear a long lick, causing you to shiver.

‘B- Baekhyunie,’ you puled pathetically, still too overwhelmed. ‘I can’t-’

The sentence was drowned out by his growl. Your state pushed him too far to just stop now.

‘You’ll comply and come again, all while I load you up, got it?’ He slipped back inside, testing your body’s response.

As expected, you were still soaked from your previous activities, so he ignored the instant jolt of your body. It wasn’t something you did often, overstimulation, but your partner knew he could make you come like this if he hurried up, so that was exactly his plan.

‘No,’ you whined capriciously, your cat instincts making you protest against the intrusion while too sensitive. Your tail patted against Baekhyun’s side relentlessly, although most of it was trapped between you.

‘I can make you,’ he rolled his hips, knowing that in a few minutes you would beg him to make you come again, even though it seemed more like torture now.

‘Ah it hurts!’ You cried out, latching onto his thigh, claws out.

‘Oh, so you’re gonna be like that?’ He growled lower, making you hiss in a natural response and draw blood with your sharp nails.

He licked a sensitive spot between your shoulder blades as a warning.

‘Don’t make me do this,’ he snarled, but you kept trying to shove him off of you. ‘Okay, you fucking got it.’

Baekhyun snapped, locking his sharp teeth on your withers – the magical spot on your spine, just below the neck; your feline heritage. Instantly, your fingers grew weak and you whined feebly as his hips moved again. He picked up his pace gradually, readjusting your thighs to have more of a room to increase amplitude. You trembled helplessly, pinned down his weight and wailing into the pillow as his determined ministrations had the anticipation build once again. With the discomfort you initially had subsiding, you’d given up on the attempts to escape your lover.

Feeling the tight pulsation around his flesh, Baekhyun released your skin and started licking over the teeth marks right away.

‘That’s more like it,’ he hummed in your ear as you whined pathetically, feeling your eyes water from the intensity of the impending release. ‘I’m going to fill you up. Yes- come like this,’ he urged, intertwining his fingers with yours, and you could not disobey.

‘Baek-’ you squealed, your entire body shuddering underneath him as your muscles contracted once again from a mind-blowing wave of pleasure.

He delivered a few more quick, shallow thrusts before his hips stuttered and he moaned lowly as thick warmth flooded your insides.

You felt full and content, the fogginess of your mind clearing up slowly. Belatedly you realized that he actually knotted you – something he didn’t do often since you weren’t the same species (or trying for a baby at this point). But it felt good, and your walls were still pulsating around him, electricity jolting through you with every gentle lick of Baekhyun’s tongue over the spot where his teeth had left a reddish mark.

‘Mhm,’ you hummed, and Baekhyun shifted his weight to his elbows.

‘Sorry, I got a bit carried away,’ he admitted, planting soft kisses along your spine.

‘It was great,’ you yawned, noting casually. ‘You knotted me.’

‘Yeah, it will deflate soon,’ he rubbed his face between your shoulder blades affectionately, and you squirmed. ‘Does anything hurt? How are you feeling?’

‘Um- no, nothing hurts. At least not yet,’ you chucked, assuming that the soreness would come tomorrow. ‘I’m just exhausted. And still a bit… dazed?’

‘Yeah, I think it’s all evaporated from my skin. Or licked off,’ he snickered. ‘Still smell the remnants of it in the air, but to me it’s not as prominent as your arousal.’

‘What was it, actually?’

‘You didn’t get it?’ Baekhyun laughed, finally slipping out and rolling off to the side, allowing you to glance at him. ‘Catnip. I got a little roll-on thingy with the essential oil. Didn’t realize it’s that strong though.’

‘Are you serious?’ You smacked him on the top of the head in a very feline way. ‘That thing is like a drug for cats!’

‘It’s safe. You were under supervision, and it has no lasting effects. And it’s not addictive,’ he clarified. ‘I consulted.’

‘Always prepared, aren’t you?’ Smiling, you shoved him in the chest. ‘I can’t believe you drugged me with catnip to fuck me. Tsk, what a jerk you are,’ you purred, scolding him.

‘Don’t act like we’re not doing this again soon,’ Baekhyun smirked, planting a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.

‘I’m so going to get you for this, Baek. I will!’ You threatened, allowing him to sneakily drag his tongue over your lower lip in a playful apology lick before you pushed him away to yawn again.

‘I’ll be waiting,’ he chuckled and moved closer again to stroke your back tenderly. ‘Just have some rest first, kitten.’

A/N: Whew, my first hybrid au posted 🤗 I hope you guys love the multi-faceted wolf!Baekhyunie haha Let me know whether he was different from what you’d expected. And I’m still encouraging you to share your thoughts on what kind of aus / tropes you enjoy 😊 It’s always interesting to find out what my readers like. Thank you for sticking around and welcome to the blog if you’re new!

#baekhyun smut #hybrid!baek #icequeenbae fics #baekhyun x reader #exowritersnet #wolf!baek #baekhyun x you #baekhyun fic #baekhyun scenario #Girl Im Your Catnip

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