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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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Eunoia - Harry Styles

a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!

pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)

word count: 9.5k

masterlist

Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.

Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.

He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.

It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.

As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.

By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.

Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.

As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.

She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.

Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.

An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.

“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.

Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.

“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.

“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.

“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.

“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.

That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.

“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.

“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.

“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.

“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.

“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.

“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.

“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.

“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”

“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.

“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.

“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”

“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.

“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.

“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”

Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.

“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.

Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.

“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”

Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.

“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.

“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.

“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”

“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.

“That’s not needed at all.”

They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.

“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.

“Of course.”

“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”

“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.

“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”

“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.

“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”

“Oh, what’s that about?”

“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.

“Any particular reason why you chose it?”

“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”

Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.

Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.

“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.

“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.

“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”

She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.

“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.

He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.

When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.

“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”

“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.

“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”

Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.

Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.

Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.

As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.

A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.

“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.

“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.

“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”

“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.

“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.

“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.

“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.

“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.

Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.

It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.

“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.

“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”

“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”

“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.

“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”

“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.

“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.

“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“The Aztecs?”

“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.

“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.

“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”

“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”

“I do not,” he shakes his head.

“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”

“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.

“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.

“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.

“Like what?”

“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”

“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”

“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.

“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”

“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”

Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.

“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.

“I don’t.”

“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”

“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.

“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.

They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.

Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.

His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.

Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.

“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.

“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.

“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”

She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.

“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.

“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”

“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.

“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.

Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.

He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.

As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.

“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.

“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”

“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.

“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.

“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.

Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.

“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!

She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.

“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.

“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.

“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.

“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.

“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.

“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.

“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”

“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.

Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.

“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.

“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.

“I just… love how you said when and not if.”

“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”

“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”

“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”

“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.

“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.

Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.

This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.

Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.

He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.

Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.

The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.

Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.

“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.

“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.

“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”

The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.

“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.

“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.

“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”

“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”

“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”

Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.

“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.

“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”

“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”

“You said you have some tests to go through.”

“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”

“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.

“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.

“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.

“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.

“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.

“Yes, Lilian?”

“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.

“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”

The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.

“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.

“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.

Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.

“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.

“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.

Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.

“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.

“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”

“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.

“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.

“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.

“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.

They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.

When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.

He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.

As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.

“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.

“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.

The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.

Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.

“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.

“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.

“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”

“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.

“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”

“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”

“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.

“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”

“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.

“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.

“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”

“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”

“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.

“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.

“You like it?”

“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.

“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.

“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”

“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”

“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.

“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.

“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.

“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.

“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.

“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.

“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.

“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.

Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?

“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.

“I just asked,” he mutters.

“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.

So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.

“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.

“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot

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betelgeuse-1988 · 3 years

Text

pale blue eyes: obi-wan/reader

hey so i fell in love with ewan mcgregor recently and proceeded to watch all of the prequels and started the clone wars. how dangerous! probably more obi-wan content in the near future. sorry if this isn't canon compliant...i don't know enough about star wars and i'm so sorry!! give me tips if you have any

obi-wan is also probably totally ooc and i’ve definitely disregarded the jedi code (bc screw the code!) but...i don’t care...obi-wan is too beautiful for that lmao. if anyone can handle a little temptation from the darkside and still be a good jedi, it’s obi

tags: smut, fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort, grief/mourning (mention of death), master/padawan dynamic (sorta), possessive sex/behavior, rough sex, marking (hickies), smoking, implied age difference, porn with feelings (and maybe plot), dirty talk

There was something oh so terrifying about being a Padawan. Of course, it was all you had ever known, but realizing that there would be a day when no one would be there to hold your hand as you traversed the daily experiences of being a Jedi was overwhelmingly terrifying. But, what was even more terrifying was the thought alone of losing your Master.

Actually losing her before you’d finished your training could only be described as unquantifiable.

Obi-Wan broke the news to you soon after reporting to the council after the mission on some outer-rim planet went wrong and led to several Jedi being killed. He spared you the details as you broke down in front of him, apologizing immediately for letting your emotions get the best of you. You tried your best to keep everything in, especially in front of one of the best Jedi Masters. Obi-Wan looked down the hallway before slowly walking you back into your quarters. He sat you down on your small bed, taking a seat next to you.

“I know how you feel right now, as I too lost my Master. But, you must remember your Master has returned to the Force. She has become something better and will always be with you. It will be difficult, but as time passes the intensity of your emotions will fade.”

You looked up into his blue eyes, the truth behind them reinforcing what you sensed in the Force. His statements were genuine, facts that had been seen in countless other Jedi who had experienced what you did; but, his eyes (and the Force) held a sadness that seemed as if it was too big and too fragile to even consider touching. Having heard some pieces of what had happened to Master Kenobi and his Padawan, it seemed as if he never had enough time to grieve. He never had time to consider what loss meant and how to deal with it. The words he spoke seemed to be monotonous, as if they were a mantra he thought to himself often. An attempt to rid himself of emotions that council members told him that he would be drawn to the darkside because of them.

“And yet,” you said, pausing to control your breathing, a few tears escaping your eyes now and then. “Those emotions will never go away, huh?”

Obi-Wan broke your gaze, sighing and rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m...I’m sorry, I’m not helping, am I?” He let out a sad chuckle before looking back at you. “It’s just...I know too well how you feel. And yet, I cannot bring myself to tell you that you must rid yourself of these emotions because they will lead you astray. I so wish that one person would have allowed me to feel, just for one moment.”

You take his hand into yours, unable to bring yourself to look him in the eyes. “You’ve helped me more than you know, Master Kenobi. And I only hope that you are able to take your own advice, too.”

“I will try, young one.”

After this moment, you found yourself drawn to Obi-Wan in the late hours of the night. Master Windu took over the last few weeks of your training before your trials. When you were not training or sleeping and Obi-Wan was not training his Padawan, you were together. This often caused you both to spend late nights in one of your quarters (most often his, as they were bigger). At first there was nothing sexual or even romantic about these meetings. They allowed you both to explore your grief and help each other control emotions most Jedi would consider distracting or unwanted. It was nice to feel safe in your emotions.

At least, until your emotions became romantic feelings for Obi-Wan.

This realization hit you like a podracer a few weeks after you became a Jedi. You had been given a mission to protect a queen from an outer-rim planet visiting Naboo for a week. The distance alone is not what caused you to realize these feelings. Obi-Wan and his Padawan had been sent on small missions in the past few weeks, causing you to go days without seeing him. Sure, you missed him, but training for your trials could fill the void he left. But, now, being away and nearly bored out of your mind in your down time was horrible. You felt a constant sense of longing and desire that you could only trace back to Master Kenobi. Your thoughts would drift back to late nights you spent with the sweet man who could comfort you with only a smile. Thoughts of running your hands through his auburn hair as you begged him to keep growing it out, especially with the beard. Watching his eyes flutter closed as you gave him a massage through his undershirt. He lets out little groans and moans, telling you to push harder in certain spots. Holding his large, calloused hand in yours as you cuddle close together on his bed. It wasn’t until the final day of your assignment that these thoughts turned sexual.

You laid in bed, too excited over going back to Coruscant and having a few days off. A half-dreaming vision formed in your mind of Obi-Wan laying in his bed. The image became clearer and you realized that his sleeping pants were pushed down slightly, his hand grasping his cock tightly. A moan slipped past his lips, the words he choked out indecipherable as he thrusted harshly into his fist. You attempt to will away this vision but it’s stuck--almost engraved--in your mind, drifting in and out like a boat rocking back and forth on waves. His thrusts seemed desperate, as if he had been attempting to reach his climax long before you created this vision. He moans again, this time it is clearer and louder than before: your name. It slips past his lips smoothly as he finally tenses slightly, forcing his hips upwards. Cum shot out of his cock as his thrusts stuttered to a stop and his hand took over. Some particularly thick shots hit his lower stomach, covering the hair above his cock. The rest flooded slowly over the tip and down onto his hand. He groaned all through his climax, panting once he had finished completely. Your mind often drifted back to these images as you fell in and out of sleep throughout the night.

Getting back to Coruscant was a welcome return home. After your report to the council, you saw Obi-Wan and Anakin waiting for you outside of the chambers. You found it difficult, at first, to hold Obi-Wan’s gaze as he greeted you.

“Hello, Master Kenobi. What are you doing here?”

“I heard you got back. If you’d like, Anakin and I would like to take you to Dex’s,” he says simply, a wide smile on his face. Anakin gave you a toothy grin, excited to gorge himself on greasy diner food.”How was your mission, young one?”

You smiled widely, slightly forgetting about the waking-dream that had been plaguing your mind. “Sounds like a great idea. I can tell you all about my mission over dinner, then, I suppose?” Obi-Wan nodded in response, a smile (albeit smaller) on his face mirroring yours and Anakin’s.

After dinner at Dex’s, Obi-Wan dismissed Anakin to his chambers (though, Obi would confide in you that he knew for a fact his was talking to his fellow Padawans late into the night, to which you would chastise him for doing the same thing with you) and invited you to his own to meditate. The walk there was quiet, yet comfortable. But, as you reached his quarters, you saw the bed that was ingrained into your visions from the night before. The panic and embarrassment ran through you, piling heavy in your stomach and causing you to stop in your tracks at his doorway. Obi-Wan took off his boots quickly and made his way to the large window at the opposite side of the room.

“You can come all the way in, y’know?” Obi-Wan said once he realized you had not followed, his tone light and playful. He was teasing you, like he always did, always a flirt. And yet, tonight, it made you nervous. You took slow steps towards him after taking your boots off by the door, meeting him at the window he liked to meditate at. “Are you okay? No witty comeback for your favorite Jedi?” He moved to cup your face but you turned away, noticing it was the hand he had so elegantly wrapped around his cock in your vision.

You looked back at him and shook your head, your eyes becoming watery out of embarrassment and fear. You knew you needed to talk to him before this got any worse. “C-can I talk to you about something?” He nodded, his face becoming serious, and sat down on the plush cushions he used to begin meditating. He patted on one next to him and you sat after taking off your cloak. You two sat almost too close, knees touching. You could almost smell him and could almost feel the calming warmth radiating off of him. “I...During my missions I was plagued by visions, Master Kenobi.”

He frowned slightly at what you said, worried about the potential dangers of visions Jedi see. “You do not need to use my title in my quarters, young one,” he said, calmly, so as not to scare you or make you feel he was reprimanding you. “But you can tell me anything. What were in these visions, young one?”

You sighed, attempting to muster the strength in admitting what you saw. Obi-Wan could sense your struggle and reached out to touch your knee gently. You placed your hand over his and squeezed gently, closing your eyes to center yourself. The minute you opened your mouth, the word-vomit flowed fast. “They were of you. They began as nice and comforting. Domestic moments. Like holding your hand or cuddling. I could see myself doing that with any friend. But...last night, it was sexual. I, uhm, watched you...pleasure yourself. Y-you moaned my name. Maker, I feel like I’ve used you, I am so sorry, Master Kenobi.”

“This happened last night?” he asked, blushing slightly under your curious gaze. You nodded slowly, unsure of where he was going with this. “Then I don’t think you were making these visions up, darling.”

Your jaw dropped, with Obi-Wan only smirking back at you. “W-what do you mean?”

“I think you saw me, somehow. I saw some of those visions you described earlier in the week, too. Perhaps we are connected, young one.” He looked at you processing what he just said and smiled. “I like you, a lot. I admire your work as a Jedi and I am so proud to see how much you have grown since I first talked to you that night your master died.” He moved the hand that was resting in his lap to cup your cheek. “I believe I have fallen for you. I am sorry that you had to see me in such an inappropriate state, however. I would understand if you didn’t want to be with me.”

“No! I mean, I do. I want to be with you. I never imagined that you would ever want to be with someone like me.” You smiled brightly, giddy about this change in your relationship with Obi-Wan. “And, if I may say, you looked quite beautiful last night. I am honored that you thought of me just as I have thought of you. Although, you have a much different imagination than I do.” The man in front of you blushed and chuckled brightly, almost proud of what he had done.

The hand on your knee tentatively moved further up your thigh. “Perhaps I can spark your imagination?”

You shifted to be on your knees, placing your hands on his thighs. You leaned close to him, almost brushing your lips against his. You were able to feel the tickle of his beard on your face as you whispered out, “Perhaps I can fulfill yours?” You pressed your lips against his as he shoves his hands through your hair, tugging on it slightly. Even as he moaned, you tasted the strawberry milkshake you shared with him at Dex’s. But, as you kissed him deeper, tongues exploring each other’s mouths, you tasted tabac, causing your mind to wander. You never thought of Obi-Wan indulging in the toxic substance, but you can’t bring yourself to be surprised. Images of Obi-Wan shirtless, just-fucked and sweaty, his hair a mess, flooded your mind. A cigarra hung from his mouth, barely hanging on to it as he took puffs from it.

A nasty habit Obi’s voice rings through your mind, almost embarrassed, I can’t seem to kick it, young one. I hope you aren’t angry.

You pulled away and cupped his face. Not wanting to ruin the tender moment of vulnerability, you kissed him lightly and projected your thoughts to him, I could not be mad at you. I find it shamefully attractive, but if you are ready to quit, I know you can.

He smiled into the kiss as you pulled away to begin stripping. “Allow me to help you,” he said, moving to push your robes off your shoulders as you took off the belt around your waist. You shrugged the robes off of you completely and threw them to the side, followed by your undershirt. Obi-Wan moved to help you take your pants off, but you stopped him.

“Allow me to help you, Master Kenobi?” he blushed and leaned back, copying your actions by starting with his belt. You help to shrug off his outer robes followed by his undershirt. You admire his chest, speckled with freckles. You pushed him down lightly, his back hitting his carpeted floor lightly. “You are truly beautiful, Master.” You kissed his chest lightly, kneeling at his side and helping him to shove his pants and undergarments off. Even though you had seen his member the night before, it was different in person and being able to see it uncovered by his hand. Semi-hard, all you could think was that it would look even more beautiful in the moonlight and neon lights streaming from the window. You flicked your hand, flipping the light switch by the door.

“I was going to ask if you liked what you saw, young one, but it seems I was wrong,” Obi-Wan hummed.

You smirked, taking his cock in your hands. “Oh, I do, but I am one for aesthetics and I would prefer to be fucked under the moonlight.” You jerk him off slightly, getting him hard. As your movements become a tad more difficult, you hold your hand up to the man’s mouth. “Spit, please.” He looked at you with a raised brow but spits. You rubbed it up and down his cock, making your movements much smoother. You squeezed lightly around his cock and he began to thrust lightly under your touch. You moved to lean down and use your mouth on his cock, but Obi-Wan stopped you.

“Let me get you ready so I can fuck you under the moonlight, just like you want, my young one.”

He moved you down to lay on the floor, pushing one of his cushions underneath your head. After helping you out of your remaining clothes, he shoved the other pillow under your hips, angling them upwards. He then kissed down your chest, as if attempting to kiss away the moonlight with how fervently he pressed his lips to your skin. Yet, as you pushed his hair back to get a clear view of his serene face, you thought he may be trying to pin down the moonlight to your skin. The way his gaze locked with yours showed how intensely he cared about this moment. His kisses acted as an attempt to encapsulate you in the light, an attempt to preserve this moment forever. You were not just another nightly escapade (not that either of you had many of those, both unknowingly too caught up in being smitten by the other). Rather, in this moment, Obi-Wan was declaring he was going to make love to you with each and every kiss pressed to your skin. The final kiss he pressed to your skin was your clit. Once this was finished, he began fingering you, stretching you with two fingers immediately and suckling on your clit. You gasped and moaned under his touch, fingers diving into his hair.

I want to make you mine, young one. After we began talking I wished I had fought with the council more to train you instead for the remainder of your time as a Padawan. Perhaps we could have been here sooner.

“Master Kenobi,” you moaned aloud. Not being able to form words verbally, you responded with the Force. How I began to wish the same. I suppose, then, I was always yours?

He pulled off of you, but added a third finger to his thrusts, smiling up at you brightly. “Yes. And I suppose I was always yours, then, too?”

“Yes,” you moaned out, high pitched, almost squeaking. You hummed and tried again, regardless of if Obi heard you the first time, “Yes, Master, you’re mine.” Obi-Wan’s smile somehow grew, but he quickly went back to working on you with his mouth. However, this time, he leaned more on his arm that he’s using to finger you. That way, his other hand was free to jerk himself off. You only noticed when he moaned against your clit lightly. “Master Kenobi, are you--”

Yes, he sent you, almost strained as if he was speaking, I think I could cum just by eating you out, I wouldn’t even need to touch myself.

“I wouldn’t want that,” you said, pushing his head lightly, “so why don’t you fuck me instead?”

He pulled his head up and smiled, “Anything for you, my darling.” He stood up, pulling you to join him, and guided you toward the bed, stopping by his drawers to grab a condom. Laying down on the bed, you watched him roll the condom over his cock and climb onto the bed with you. He kneeled between your legs, pulling up your leg to rest it on his hip. He used his other hand to grip your hip and pulled you towards him. You gasped, both at the sudden movement and his member pushing into your pussy slowly. “Such a good girl, taking me so perfectly. You can take me all, right, my young one?” You nodded your head fiercely, unable to form a coherent thought as he continued to thrust in and out of you, each thrust going deeper than the last.

Once he settled into you completely, your hands fisted his bedsheets roughly. “So full, you fill me up so nice, Master Kenobi.” You shifted your hips against him, attempting to get him to thrust into you. His grip on your hip dissipated as he moved to push down on them. You moved your hand over his, pushing down on it lightly while also gripping his hand.

“Is there something you need from your Master, young Jedi?” Your grip on his hand tightened as you nodded. “What do you need? You can use your words.” You blushed as you attempted to quantify what you wanted him to do. You attempted to shift your hips as the position became uncomfortable from being held for so long without moving. “Please, princess. I want to give you what you want, but I will not move until you tell me.”

“I want you...I…” you trailed off, becoming embarrassed for what you were trying to ask. You threw your head to the side and thought to him, I want you to mark me. I don’t care if it hurts. I want to know, as long as the bruises last, that I am yours. I want to hold on to this moment.

“Is that all, young one?” You nodded in response, trying not to embarrass yourself more than you felt you had. “There is nothing to be embarrassed over, sweet girl. I want to please you, and the only way I can do that is if I know what you want. Never be embarrassed when asking for what you want.”

You smiled as his hand moved back to your hip, his grip stronger than before. Timidly, you add on, “Can you also move, Obi-Wan? I...I need it.” He silently responded by squeezing your hip and thrusting into you. He quickly picked up speed, however, thrusting into you desperately. Obi-Wan shifts, dropping the leg he held at his hip to be able to lean over you. Moaning at the new angle, you wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close. Your fingers delved into his hair, tugging at it as he thrust into you just right. Obi-Wan moaned at that, flicking his hips faster in response.

“Where do you want me to mark you, hm? Maybe a place above your robes so all the other Jedi Masters will see and know you’re mine?” You tensed slightly under him, even as your pussy clenched. “No, darling? I didn’t mean to worry you. I will make sure no one can see.” Obi-Was pressed light kisses to your collarbone, as he had before, but quickly began to suck on your collarbone and lined it with love bites.

Too overwhelmed with the pleasure, you think to Obi-Wan, Perhaps another time, you can make them more visible. Let everyone know I am yours and yours alone.

He only hummed in response as he busied himself with bruising your skin. You shoved a hand between the two of you, rubbing your clit in small circles.

Am I not good enough for you, young one?

You stopped your movements and began to stammer out an excuse.

I am only teasing, darling. I want you to cum on my cock. And, you’re making it much easier for me to achieve that goal.

You both continued like this, attempting to reach your climaxes by pulling on Obi’s hair, him suckling on your skin to leave marks, and you circling your clit. Eventually, your legs tensed and you lifted your hips up towards him. You gasped, the inner walls of your pussy fluttering around his cock. “Obi-Wan, I’m cumming,” you exclaimed, moaning even more as you flung your head back against the pillows.

“Let go, love. Cum for me, show me you’re mine.”

Your hips stuttered against his, legs tensing and shaking on either side of the Jedi Master. He pulled up and off of you, shifting back onto his knees. He thrust through your orgasm, attempting to reach his own. He moved his hands again to grip your hips tightly, bringing you against him roughly. Obi-Wan moaned as he thrust into you as fast as he could, wanting to cum so badly. “Cum for me, Master. I can sense how desperate you are, n’ I wanna know I made you cum. You came inside your young Jedi’s cunt, all for her. Only for her.” His hips began to stutter irregularly against you as he came, moaning your name just as he did the night before. Obi-Wan eventually stalled against you, collapsing slightly. “After that show, you can put your full weight on me. You deserve it, and I don’t want you to pull out just yet,” You said, rubbing his head gently..

“I always had a feeling you’d be insatiable,” Obi-Wan chuckled. He leaned his full weight on top of you. It was surprisingly comforting, especially after his rough grip and bruising kisses. He snuggled into your neck, pressing sloppy kisses against it, as your hands settled at his waist. “I can only hope to completely satiate you, one day, I suppose.”

“You did perfectly fine, Obi-Wan. For now.” He finally pulled off of you, forcing you to come to his refresher with him to clean up. When you finally laid back down in his bed, both of you naked and comfortable in each other’s arms, you were too tired to do anything more than hum in content. Just as you were trailing off to sleep, a warm thought entered your brain.

I love you, young one. Never forget that.

You responded quickly, though you assumed the sleepiness that would have been present in your voice was also present in your thoughts.

I love you, too, Obi.

#obi wan imagine #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #fanfic #obi-wan smut #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan fic

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shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

“Fuck You!””I Just Might.”

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 7.1k holy hecc

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : nasty nasties hehe.. choking, angry sex, dom bakugou (what’s new lmao), lots of sexy vengeful teasing, & almost being caught (? idk what to call that haha)

bio : You and Ground Zero are far from getting along in almost every aspect… except for getting off perhaps.

author’s note : wow another smut whodathunkit !!! This isn’t super romantic (Happy VDay my sweets!!) but goddamn if u thirstin today drink tf up bc the SALOON IS OPEN AND HERE’S THE SPECIAL ON DA HOUSE

side note: (Y/H/N) = your hero name, also the sidekick is 100% out my ass not real bc I didn’t feel like doing legit research heheh. also, all characters are aged up to long past UA-grad in this (so everyone is 18+!!)

tagging: @lordexplosionsextra per request -- hope you enjoy bb :) happy vday!

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄰rms crossed, chest puffing in defiance, your gaze shoots daggers into his stupid smirk. “I’m not your fucking sidekick, Boom-Boy, so you can crawl back into the putrid swamp you came from and take your damn paperwork with you!”

“H-hey now,” Bakugou’s sidekick laughs nervously, hands waving in front of him as he shakes off the jab you just took at him inadvertently.

Bakugou laces his gloved fingers over his lap and kicks back in his chair, straightening his legs so his boots rest on the table across from you. “Listen, Princess, you know the rules. Whoever gets the final blow doesn’t have to do the nitty-gritty shit,” he answers, shrugging nonchalantly.

“You only got the finisher in ‘cuz I was busy doing everything else! You pop in at the last second and get all the credit and no busywork? Fuck off,” you fume, hooking your foot around the leg of his chair and ripping it toward you. Bakugou’s eyes widen as he falls backwards, tumbling onto the hard floor. He grimaces at you from the floor, vermillion eyes ablaze.

“It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to strategize! Don’t start shit you can’t fucking finish yourself!” He barks, voice spiking with fury. Ouch, that one stung your pride a little.

“You’re such an asshole,” you snarl, shoving the stack of papers off the table. The pages swirl in the air and scatter onto the tiled floor, some landing on the instigator’s lap. Bakugou’s palms crackle as his breath is stolen at your audacity. Your sidekick lets out a startled noise, jumping at the sudden popping. Bakugou’s sidekick has his hand on his temple, attempting to rub out the headache forming at this mess.

Why did you two have to hate each other so much?

The two sidekicks stand stiffly against the wall as you shove by them, Bakugou glaring at your ass as your hips swing around the doorway, out of his sight.

It’s late, the purple sky littered with the lights of the lively city. The villain you— or Bakugou, you suppose— had taken down earlier had been the last job of the day and you’re tired of the stupid bullshit he always serves you when the two of you work together.

Usually your agency kept the two of you on opposite boundaries of the patrol area, but you had begrudgingly needed help with this last offender of the day. Your quirk didn’t do incredibly well against villains with close-combat styles, but you could still manage. Unfortunately, the guy that had been causing mayhem earlier was beyond powerful up close, and he had landed a hit that knocked the wind out of you and made you slower than usual. It wasn’t a major injury or anything, but you’d probably have a nasty bruise on your torso after you took off this goddamn gimp-suit of a costume. Luckily, you had visited the in-house, agency healer in the infirmary upon arrival from the job, and they had sucked the nasty welt off your skin and redirected it somewhere else as their quirk allowed. The pain subsided mostly, just a bit sore where the bruise would’ve been.

You close the door to your office gently, a heavy sigh releasing as you make your way toward the desk. It was almost quitting time, but you still had to finish up the paperwork from the other case you had dealt with this morning. Clicking on the desk lamp, you breathe in to calm your frayed nerves, eyes closing briefly as you try to find the energy to finish your work.

The door bursts open, slamming almost immediately and tearing you out of your attempt at meditation. Bakugou stands in there, steam practically billowing from his nose and scarlet eyes flashing with agitation.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snarls, prowling toward you with an accusatory, gloved finger raised.

“Excuse me?” You quip, irritation revitalized almost instantly. “Who do you think you are, storming into my office after the shit you pulled today?”

He stops in front of you, glowering down at you. You turn your face slightly, your eye level meeting his chest and not wanting to look at that. He was kind of muscular up close like this, you’d never noticed because you’d always created the most distance as possible between you two.

“Oh, you mean me saving your ass? Yeah, my bad, woman,” he growls, letting his gaze linger on the way your eyelashes kiss your cheek bones as you scoff, eyes closed in annoyance.

You glare at him, infuriated. “I didn’t need your fucking help! Did I ask you to come?”

He takes his time to reply, stare holding your attention briefly before he licks his lips. “No, but your sidekick did.”

The sentence is like a cold slap to the face, and you push him backwards with newfound anger. “Don’t fucking lie to me Bakugou,” you seethe, hands clenched into fists. “If you’re gonna lie at least come up with something believable!”

“Tch. She did call me, brat, and she begged me to come to your rescue like you were a goddamn damsel in distress,” he grunts, breaking eye contact with you as he hunches slightly, strong hands shoved into his pockets. Bristling at the refreshed anger rippling off of you, he already knows what you’re going to say. “She said that shitty villain got his hands on you, yeah right you had it under control.”

You don’t know what to say. You can’t really refute that the assailant had managed to hurt you, but you still wish Bakugou hadn’t heard that information. The asshole already thinks he’s the hottest shit in the agency, you really don’t want to give him any evidence of your weaknesses. So you sit on the edge of your desk, sighing once again. “I can handle one hit, dipshit,” you mutter. “It’s already healed anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can take care of yourself,” he grumbles, gaze flickering to your grim expression before he looks intently at the picture on your wall.

The silence that ensues is uncomfortable. You had never really talked to Bakugou before-- usually every time the two of you were together you were having a shouting match, throwing insults back and forth relentlessly. You aren’t really sure how to reply, and you absolutely did not want to acknowledge that he had come to your rescue when you actually needed him.

Bakugou is as silent as you are. He wonders where you’d been hit momentarily, before pushing off the thought because god forbid he show emotions. He’d already had his fill of feelings for the day. He sure as hell would never tell a soul, but the second he had seen your sidekick’s name flash across his phone screen this evening, his stomach dropped like he’d been the one to receive the villain's punch, not you. Shoving away the intrusive thought, his trademark scowl surfaces to his face.

“You know, I still haven’t heard a ‘thank you’.”

His irritating voice slices through the tension in the room, and you bristle at his impudence. “Gee, Ground Zero,” he ruffles at his hero name, a frown bending his thin lips,” thanks so much for stealing my job and taking the credit for it too, and really— thank you so much for the paperwork as well. I’m just so grateful.”

“Tch. Don’t be so bitchy, you know I saved your ass today so just fess up and thank me already. You’ll feel better once you spit it out,” he provokes, thick arms crossing over his chest.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, scowling at his smug face. The snarl that breaks his lips is ignored as your eyes turn to slits directed toward him.

He laughs at your malicious look, mouth transforming into a sleazy grin. He can’t stop himself even though he’s a tad hesitant, but his bold and loud nature wins out and he says cooly, “I just might.”

You gape at him, the smile on his mouth escalating your agitation. “W-What?” You choke out meekly, palms pushing you off the desk to stand upright.

He has the gall to grin, taking a step toward you. His heavy boots clunk against the floor, and you move backwards only to bump into the desk again. You cast a futile glare at the desk, and when you look back at him, he’s looming over you. “I think it’s time we acknowledge this thing we have, (Y/H/N).”

Your lips part in surprise, the blush tainting your cheeks slightly. “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” you stammer. Your arms crossing over your chest, he can’t help but notice how your breasts squish upwards, cleavage visible through your skin-tight costume.

“I think you do,” he chuckles with a low voice, gaze regarding the pink pigment gracing your cheeks. He savors it, lips curling into a smirk. His hands meeting the edge of your desk as he leans in, his body brushes against your arms. You rear back, shock evident on your face with lips parted as he tips his head to the side. He cages you in, an unfamiliar look simmering in his crimson irises. “You can feel the tension between us too. I know it, Princess.”

You’re once again at a loss for words. What the hell is happening right now? You think, mind reeling desperately to change the subject. “I hate it when you call me that,” you spit out, looking up to catch his intense stare. It wasn’t dishonest, you hated his pet name for you. Just because you weren’t as careless as him, he’d tacked the snide nickname to you awhile back because he knew it pissed you off. “It’s a stupid name that only your idiot brain could come up with.”

Take the bait, please take the bait.

“The way you treat me like I’m beneath you, what else can I call you?” His breath fans against your cheek and you hate to admit it’s fresh and minty, not at all as nasty and troll-like as you’d convinced yourself it would be. “But I guess that’s ‘cuz you really wouldn’t mind having me under your lap, right?”

You gasp at his crude suggestion, knees smacking together as your thighs clench automatically. “Fuck off, Bakugou,” your voice trembles slightly, your palms hesitantly landing on his chest. Your attempt to push him is less than half-hearted, and he smiles at your crumbling resolve.

His fingers skim along the small of your back, perching his hand on your waist. You can feel its warmth through your costume and his glove, and your body bends into his hold on its own accord, your ass pushing back while your chest grazes his. He exhales harshly, his other hand docking on the top of your stiffened thigh, thumb falling into the curve between your legs. You wish it was higher up, and the recognition of your craving makes your blush a few shades darker.

“What was that?” He snickers, lips brushing your earlobe as his nose pushes away your cascading hair. He didn’t expect you to smell so good after a long day of fighting crime.

Your fingers grab onto his costume, clawing at the material and you’re not sure if it’s in anger or desire. But Bakugou is sure, his fingers rubbing your waist as he glances at your restless hold on his costume. “Oh, bite me,” you spit out, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

His lips touch your jaw, and you can feel the sneer that rests so prominently there. “Manners, Princess… say please,” he chides, tongue poking out to trace the soft skin there.

A quiet moan escapes you and Bakugou groans loudly in response. He draws his face back to lock eyes with you, stare taught with the tension the two of you have built over all this time.

“You gonna tell me you’ve never thought about us fucking?” He inquires, eyes darting to your lips and returning to your gaze. “All those times we riled each other up, every time we pushed each other’s buttons over and over— you gonna say you never thought about getting me to shut the hell up by any means necessary?”

Your eyes roll in your head, from a combination of lust and disbelief. You cannot believe you're letting him hold you like butter in his hot hands, melting you and licking you up. You glare at him, his lips just close enough to distract you. You weren’t going to let him mould you like putty anymore. “I bet you wanna think that I have, Bakugou,” you whisper, and he looks at you with mild surprise adorning his handsome face. Your blush infects him immediately, a flush spreading over his own cheeks and he’s suddenly very glad his costume has a mask. “You think I haven’t noticed you checking me out every second of the day, Boom-Boy?”

He seems at a loss for words as your wrists wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down and level to yours. His brow bursts into a sweat as one of your hand curls around his costume’s throat piece, trailing south and following the delicious line between his pecs down his abs. Your fingernails scraping through his costume, his skin prickles as he gasps. Your lips meet his stubbled jaw, mirroring the action he had performed to you a moment ago. His fingers tighten their hold on you, his body jerking almost invisibly at the contact. “You ogle at me much more, little Miss Priss,” he says cockily even though his voice sounds forced.

It was your turn to curl your lips into a sultry smile, half-lidded eyes regarding his shocked, eager stare. “I thought I told you not to tell your phony lies, Bakugou,” your murmur against his jawline, hand curving around his pelvis and to drag down his outer thigh. “It’s a sin to lie, you know.” Your fingers skim the very ridge of the bulge in his pants, teasingly tracing the outline and watching him close his eyes, his grin seeming strained.

“You know a lot about sins, then?” he pants, sliding his hand down from your waist slowly, fingertips stretching eagerly to push into your plush ass.

You nip at his skin playfully, and he shudders in response. Your raise your head to meet his hungry gaze, your coy smile still beaming. “I might… You want me to demonstrate my knowledge?” Your tongue parts your lips, eyes falling to his slightly agape mouth. Your breath tangles, and his eyelids flutter shut as your lips graze.

The hand on your thigh grips your flesh tighter and you whimper, your mouth tingling at the harder contact of the kiss. His other hand slides south and cups your tailbone, calloused fingers bringing your ass toward him. The sudden movement surprises you, and you grab onto his neck, making his chin dip down as your hips slide into his crotch. You clash into him, your lips colliding as sparks fly through the air.

You both moan into each other’s mouths, the kiss desperate and hot. Your tongue pokes out to probe his bottom lip and he gladly receives your wet muscle with his own. Your legs trapped between his shuffle as you wiggle your hips, savoring his fiery hands gliding over your figure.

Bakugou’s hands are firm but warm, caressing your waist and hips and heating them up. He growls as your hips buck against his, rubbing the tent in his baggy pants. One of his hands slides along the smooth fabric of your hero suit, cupping the swell of your breast in his large palm as his thumb runs over your nipple. You throw your head back, and his lips gladly blaze the trail of your throat with a scorching urgency. Your fingers move to his arm pieces, clamoring at the top of the machinery near his elbows. He gladly slides the gadgets off, placing them in one of the chairs facing your desk while he rips off his black gloves. He hastily throws the neck piece onto the seat as well before he turns and captures your lips once more.

When his fingers return to your hips, you can feel the true heat of his burning palms through your bodysuit, making you arch into him wantonly. His tongue battles yours fiercely, both of you fighting for dominance as his hands glide up to your waist and fumble with your belt. You can feel his rigid muscles through his thin tank top, your hands wandering greedily underneath the right material to touch his smooth skin.

Bakugou smirks as your belt falls onto the desk, hands falling and grabbing onto your ass cheeks eagerly, pulling you closer to his body. You take the chance to shove your tongue into his mouth and he groans at the impact, jaw slackening as he allows your tongue to take control. He grinds into you slowly, making your thighs tremble with apprehension. His mouth detaches from yours, and the string of saliva connecting your tongues is sliced as his shirt flies through the air. You drink in the sight of his naked chest, muscles swelling and flexing, tapering down into a delicious V that disappears underneath his belt.

You grab the belt, yanking his body close to yours again and sighing as your lips meet once more. “You’re really man-handling me Princess,” he comments amusedly into your lips as your fingers grapple with his belt, toying with the latch.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and harnessing a moan from him,” and touch me already, pussy.”

His vermillion gaze ignites, mouth crashing onto yours as his fingers slide underneath the swell of your ass. He lifts you like you’re but a paperweight, and you moan as your legs wrap around his hips. His tongue crushing yours, his kisses so intense that your head leans back at the sizzling force. You jump slightly as your ass meets the cushion of your desk chair, eyes opening to see he’d rounded the desk and knelt in front of you. His knees on the ground, he looks up at you haughtily, hands coasting slowly down your legs toward your center. “Is this where you want me?” he feigns innocence and you glare down at him. His thumb hooks the crotch of your leotard, and he shoves the material to the side roughly, making you gasp.

The cool office air greets your cunt, making it throb even more in arousal. “Bakugou,” you whine as he watches your face, shifting your hips in a feeble attempt to catch his attention. He slinks down, lips brushing over your panties softly as he watches you squirm. He grins against the black lace, thumb curling around the skinny part of the thong over your asshole, making you shiver.

“You’re right Princess,” he grumbles, tongue gliding over the wet spot that had leaked through the material, inhaling your scent pervertedly as he closes his eyes in triumph. Your bottom lip is prisoner to your teeth again as you watch his teasing movements, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Sometimes when you’ve got me all riled up, I jerk off thinking about how good your bratty little ass would look bouncing on my dick.” You can’t help but whimper at his confession, rolling your hips against his mouth in desperation.

He smirks up at you, crimson irises glittering with savory mischief. His hands snake around your thighs, clutching onto the junction they meet your hips with vigor. He pushes your body down into the seat so you can’t wriggle any longer, and he feels your cunt clench against his chin when he nips at your panties, teeth dragging along your clit. You wail his name again lowly, harsh breaths ripping through your lungs.

He growls in response, thumb ripping the lace to the side and exhaling at the sight of your swollen cunt, grin broadening at the excessive glaze that he had caused. “Fuck,” he laments, tongue poking out to graze your clit experimentally. Satisfied with the way your hand flies to cover your mouth, he places a teasing kiss there. “You know,” he murmurs against your slick nerve,” More than once I’ve wondered how hot and sweet your cunt must be, hiding underneath this skimpy little leotard.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyebrows cinching as you glower down at him, meeting his pleased gaze. “Why don’t you find out for yourself then?” you hiss, baring your teeth at his infuriatingly proud smirk.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” Bakugou’s tongue glides along the side of your slit, making you stiffen and shut your eyes tightly. Of course he’s a fucking tease.

A knock sounds at your door to pull you out of your collapsing mind, and you sit up straight, eyes wide as Bakugou’s sidekick peeks into the room.

Bakugou stills, unsure as to who it is, staying hidden behind your desk and still holding your hips harshly.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen Ground Zero possibly? He’s stormed off as usual and I can’t find him anywhere,” the sidekick says, blinking at you with unsuspecting eyes.

“Oh, H-Hikaru,” you gulp, hesitantly placing your hands on your desk. Bakugou is quiet underneath you but you’re preparing yourself for the little shit to pull something stupid.

And he does.

Bakugou’s tongue slips between your folds suddenly, licking a large stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit, sucking in your clit and rolling his tongue around it brazenly.

“Oh my god!” you yell, hand slapping over your mouth too late. Hikaru looks at you incredulously, regarding your pink cheeks and sweaty forehead. “I can’t believe him! W-what an asshole!” you pant as Bakugou sucks harder, your pussy clenching onto itself. “He probably left so you’d do the paper… mmm, paperwork for h-him.” You abs are flexed so hard, straining in order to restrain the mess of moans that Bakugou is summoning.

Hikaru finds your tone a bit peculiar, but he continues anyway. “Uh, probably… Are you okay Y/N? You look kind of… sick,” he comments, head tilting to the left. “Did you get that jab checked out yet? I can take you to the infirmary if you want. If it’s bad I can drop you off at your place, too.”

Bakugou doesn’t like that suggestion. He doesn’t need to lick his fingers, your drenched core welcomes the digits instantly. Your walls accommodate his middle and ring finger eagerly and he smirks as they sink into you, knuckle-deep.

“Yes!” you shriek, quickly shooting a glare down at the blonde, your hair covering your face from his sidekick. “I mean— yes, I had it checked out and I’m f-fine, thank you for the concern, Hikaru,” you explain, a forced smile on your lips as you silently beg him to leave.

Bakugou stretches his fingers inside you, scissoring them to coat them in your essence before he puts them together again. His wrist strained in the forced position, he flicks the digits back and forth, almost laughing in glee as he recognizes that soft velvety spot deep within you.

Hikaru blinks at you again before he nods half-heartedly. “Okay… Well if you need me, I’ll be in the conference room doing Bakugou’s job,” he laughs, tucking out of the door and closing it finally.

“He wishes he could do my job, fucker,” Bakugou grunts, mouth immediately returning to satiating your needy hole.

You sag into the chair, a quiet moan floating out of you as Bakugou continues to finger you, his lips slurping up your clit once more. Shooting a heated look at him, you bare your teeth at him, and choke out a hiss,” Fuck you!”

Bakugou only chuckles, savoring the way your cunt throbs around his digits. “I didn’t think you were so impatient, brat.” He doesn’t slow his actions though, knuckles ramming against your skin. He enjoys the way you gasp as he moves your thigh over his shoulder, his tidy fingernails pressing into your trembling leg. “You taste pretty good, Y/N. I guess it’s just your personality that’s bitter,” he remarks, smiling against your sex as his fingers slide out of you.

You toss him a pointed look as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “Excuse you, Boom-Boy,” you chide,” only my friends get to call me that!”

“Tch, I get to eat your pussy but I can’t call you by your name? You really know how to make a guy work for it,” he scoffs, sounding mock-hurt, and now menacing over you.

You frown in response but it quickly melts into a smirk. “Don’t worry, Katsuki,” you observe how he closes his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching as his hand turns into a fist,” I’ll return the favor.” You tentatively place your hands on his belt, undoing the clasp and resting the heel of your palm against his clothed, hard cock. You gently undo the fastenings around his thick thighs, placing the belt with his grenades onto your desk cautiously. You weren’t trying to be blown up just for some dick.

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of both his black pants and underwear, annoyed with you taking your sweet ass time. His bare cock springs free, greeting your hungry gaze with an inviting sheen of sticky precum trailing down his hard length. You gawk at the sight, genuinely surprised to find he was so… well equipped.

“So this is why you’re so cocky, huh?” you state, eyes following the protruding vein running the entirety of his full, flushed member.

He barks out a laugh which dies in his throat as you press a chaste kiss to his weeping pink tip. Your tongue flat against your bottom lip, you slide his cock into your mouth and moan at the salty, provocative taste of him. His length almost as thick as your throat itself, you gag gently as you take him whole into your mouth before quickly pulling back. You place your hand around the base of his now-slick cock, your mouth sucking and bobbing on the top half of him as you jerk your fist at the same tempo.

Bakugou is much louder than you expected him to be, and the way his erotic, serrated breath is tearing from his lungs makes your pussy clench in desire. His chest heaves, the bulging muscles on his torso tense underneath his surprisingly smooth skin. Your other hand wanders up his abs, enjoying the way the ridges between them are so defined. He growls as your finger rubs over his nipple, his hand catching your wrist in a tight grasp but not doing anything to stop the action.

You purr on his cock, slippery hand leaving the base to cup his balls, eliciting a hiss from him as he sucks air in between his gnashing teeth. Confidence torrenting through your veins at his reaction, your jaw drops as wide as you can muster, your mouth gliding further down his length.

Bakugou’s empty hand collects the hair falling around your face, holding it for you as you weave back and forth. His jaw falls slack as the head of his dick rubs the back of your throat, summoning a soft gag that makes your mouth vibrate around him. Your wrist hurts a little from his tight grasp, but the way his fingernails dig into your skin makes your core shiver in delight. “Shit, Y/N.”

You don’t bother to correct him this time, thumb running over his balls just hard enough to make him shake a bit, savoring the way he is panting and quaking before you. The hand grasping your hair nimbly shimmies closer to your skull, his fingers twisting almost too tightly onto the roots of your hair. You allow him to coax your mouth closer, his arm guiding your face to take his length deeply. A low growl tears from the bottom of his lungs as you lock eyes with his impassioned stare. His hips nudge smally against your lips, his tongue poking out to run over his lip as he pulls back and glides back inside your sweltering throat.

You moan forcefully, savoring the the strangled noise that slithers from his now gaping mouth. Taking initiative once more, you begin to jerk your neck back and forth quickly, wincing as his grip tightens on your wrist. Bakugou tries his best to repress his moans but the way your bratty throat welcomes his hard cock makes him see tiny, fizzling explosions when he closes his eyes.

His hips rear back, and you almost fall off the chair as you lean in to close the distance. He catches you easily, hot hands landing on your shoulders as his gaze locks with yours, inexplicable desire sizzling between the two of you. His hands fly down to collect your ass cheeks, and he picks you up just to place the apple of your cheeks on the desk behind him. Teetering on the edge of the wooden furniture, your legs wrap around his waist, and his lips slam onto yours again. His fingers frantically running over your super suit, he snarls in frustration when he can’t find the zipper.

You laugh at him mockingly, catching his eye as you pinch the zipper on the side of your neck, the material shrinking away immediately with elasticity. He watches as your breasts pop out of the silky, neoprene-like fabric, bouncing with hardened, pink nipples standing perkily to greet him.

“No bra?” He reprimands but his time sounds more turned on than accusatory. “Princess, you’re so naughty.” His hands fly to your tits, groping the soft and supple flesh with fervor. You unzip the rest of your side, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and carefully angling your hips so you can slide the suit off into a crumpled pile on the ground. In just your tiny little thong now, Bakugou closes the gap, pressing flush against your clothed center and grinding his wet cock against your damp underwear.

Your head tilts back and you whine, gasping as his mouth slides along your throat, hot tongue caressing the tender skin. “Please, Bakugou,” you wail, his thumbs rubbing your sensitive nipples hastily.

“God, you must be tight if you’re this high-strung,” he purrs next to your ear, enjoying the way your cunt clenches noticeably underneath your panties. Speaking of those… his fingers snatch the delicate lace to the side, his other hand grabbing his dick and running his swollen tip over your slit. He dips the head into your hole but recedes instantly, brushing it over your glistening trove before repeating the action. The teasing has your head spinning, harsh pants falling from you both and mingling in the thin divide between you. He can’t take it any longer, his hips snapping into yours as his dick easily disappears halfway into your steamy, aching cunt. “I fucking knew it,” he grunts, jaw clenching as your velvety walls embrace his girth, your cry of pleasure music to his ears. “Your cunt is so snug around my cock.”

His hips push into your thighs further, only stopping once he’s balls-deep, sunk completely in your flittering sex. Hand leaving your thong to the side of your cunt, he grabs your hip and pulls your ass close. You groan at his cock nestling even deeper into your sopping hole, and your hips jerk against his as his hand curls around your lower back, securing itself so his fingers coil snugly around your waist. You choke on a sob as he thrusts into you again, his thick member prodding you in a very private place.

“You better fuck me already,” you growl at his pace that was testing your nerves, ready to be fucked into submission. Not that you were going to go down without a fight.

He chuckles cockily, a sly grin on his lips. “Your wish is my command.” His hips slam against yours and your teeth sink into his shoulder, muffling a scream of desire. He ruts into you with ease, your arousal making it almost effortless for his cock to spread the tense walls of your desperate pussy. His free hand claps against the swell of your ass, the noise slicing through the air and you scowl at him. It’s like he wants to be caught.

Ragged breaths tumble from the both of you, your saliva trickling down his chest as your teeth are still fastened into his broad shoulder. “F-Fuck, Bakugou,” you keen, each time his pelvis pressing against you tightly forcing your vision to shake.

“Katsuki,” he huffs, his left hand pushing your chin up to capture your half-lidded gaze. “Say it, Princess— fuck, tell me who’s making you feel so good,” he demands, eager to hear his name leave your lips in such an intimate way once more. His hips change tempo from his fast and hard pace to a slower, more sensual rolling motion, milking the desired reaction out of you.

The novel movement pressing deliciously against your clit, your unabashed whimpers fall onto his eager ears. Your fingers raise to pinch the top of his black eye mask, pushing the material up over his forehead so it tucks his ash blonde hair back. Looking into his eyes and admiring his uncovered, handsome features, you shoot him a sinful pout. “Ka— ah! Oh, Katsuki,” you gasp, your hands flying up to claw desperately at his muscular back.

Bakugou relishes in your lewd reply, eyes rolling back into his skull in delight. He lets out a gravely groan, increasing the tempo to a needy, impatient pace. The extra stimulation on your clit makes your legs shiver around him, your heels digging into the plush top of his ass. His hand slides back to grip around the back of your neck, leaning in to take the side of your ear between his teeth. His fingers on your throat press into your skin, his thumb pushed into your racing pulse. Hand squeezing just the right amount, it becomes pleasurably harder to breathe and you pant, tongue poking out as you wanton gaze meets his. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard Y/N,” he growls, almost snarling at you as your body bounces against his, watching your hair dance and shake around the erotic expression on your face.

“Eat shit,” your nose twitches in annoyance,” You’re gonna burst any minute now.” Your cheeks are dusted in a telling flush, your body feeling heat spread throughout. His hand tightens on your throat and you moan, loving the way your breath tears slightly.

“You’ve been clenched down on me this whole time,” he reasons, lips close enough so you can feel his ragged breath. “You can’t deny how your body reacts to me, even if you don’t want it to.”

You roll your eyes. Even buried between your legs at a time like this, he insists on pushing your buttons. “Oh, you want me to clench, Katsuki?” you inquire, tone confident in contrast to the wanton shake of your body.

He shivers as his name leaves your sinful lips, and the breath in his lungs is sucked out of him as you clamp your pussy as tight as you can around him. His hips stutter and you revel in the lustful way his face contorts, his eyes screwing shut temporarily.

When his vermillion eyes open again, his predatory gaze adding wood to the fire between your legs. “Bad girl,” he admonishes, an unruly grin lifting the corners of his mouth. His hips slam against yours, railing into you at an unimaginable speed and harshness. “That’s a cute try, Princess, but you’re gonna cum before me no matter what.”

You can’t even respond as he thrusts into you, your pants ripping through the air and mingling with the quick slapping noise echoing through the room. You hate to let him win but you can’t hold yourself off from your impending orgasm, the pressure in your core multiplying at an alarming rate as each thrust deliciously stimulates your deepest, most secret place.

“Katsuki,” you whimper, your spine arching into his touch while his hand keeps its hold on your throat. “I’m so close, please,” you beg, your toes curling forcefully as your eyes roll back.

Bakugou smiles at your submissive tone, purring out, “That’s better.” His hand leaving your throat to rub his finger on your clit, your body trembles in his hands. He leans into you and his lips conquer yours passionately, tongue darting in between your lips to caress with yours. His tongue pulls back as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, his wolfish stare daring you to follow his ensuing command. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Your body tenses as you reach your climax, but Bakugou continues to assault your g-spot mercilessly. Your arms shake in euphoria, nails pressing in to form desperate scratches on his skin. It feels like he is snapping you in two, and you absolutely love it. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you wail out, relief washing over your limbs feeling like ice cold lemonade on a torrid summer day.

Pussy fluttering around his cock so deliciously, Bakugou moans at the new intensity. He swears as he keeps going, despite his own orgasm approaching. The image of you squirming in ecstasy underneath him makes him gasp immodestly. His hands clasp down on your hips roughly, making it even easier for him to pound into your soaked cunt as his teeth release your reddened lip. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he huffs, sweat glistening on his built chest as he thrusts into you particularly hard. “So much better than I could’ve ever imagined, holy shit, Princess.” He moans a little loudly, not holding anything back anymore. He is so fucking close.

“Katsuki, please,” you sob, your g-spot still being pummeled relentlessly, never getting a break from his assault and dragging your orgasm out longer than you thought possible. “I want your cum on me so bad!”

Bakugou throws his chin into the air, harsh breaths floating out as the flesh of your hips turns white under his oppressive grip. He grunts as he pulls out, his searing streaks of cum spurting out forcefully, shooting up to lace over your tits and down your stomach. His thighs tremble as he snarls, his first immediately jerking his cock as more of his cum gushes out of the tip. He gasps for breath, and he groans as your lips press to his captivatingly. He leans into your kiss, savoring the feeling of your sweet lips against his.

You shift in his hands, the once-rough palms now sliding over your skin carefully, fondling your body as his lips nibble at your own. You entertain it for a moment, nails trailing down his chest, thumbs rubbing into the ample muscles beneath his skin.

He pulls back, a lazy grin and satisfied eyes regarding you. “Well, that was hot,” he admits, eyebrow quirking upwards as he tries to even his choppy breath. You pull a handful of tissues out of the box on the corner of your desk, handing him a few which he gladly wipes over his drenched member. You sigh in content, head leaning back as you regulate your own breathing.

Bakugou makes you jump in surprise as he runs a new tissue along your torso, cleaning up his mess. You eye him playfully, secretly relishing in the way he is so considerate. He shuffles back a step like he can feel you appreciating his uncharacteristically caring actions, tugging up his underwear and tucking himself in with a smug grin on his lips.

“It was pretty good,” you say casually, sliding off the desk and pausing as your still-tingling core shifts, making you realize how tender you already are.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, handing you your costume from the floor. You snatch it out of his grasp condescendingly, glaring at him as you step into the leotard with quivering legs. “Pretty good?” he barks, eyeing your slow movements. “You’re still shaking, Princess.”

You shoot a glare at him, arms slipping into your costume and tucking your breasts away from his lingering eyes. “Fuck you.”

“You just did.” He replies smugly, and you ponder relieving the sudden urge you have to slap the look off his face.

“Whatever, Boom-Boy,” you quip, zipping up the side of your suit.

Bakugou chortles as he pulls on his shirt, fastening the loops around his thighs. “By the way,” he looks sideways at you with a smirk. “You came first, so I won.”

“You were, like, ten seconds behind me,” you scoff.

“After you, nonetheless,” he almost chirps, savoring in the irritation visibly building in you. He slips on his gloves, sliding his arms into his grenade-looking arm pieces. “Do I get a prize, Princess?”

You glance at his suggestive crimson eyes, pondering the idea of it. “You can choose the place next time,” you wink at him, clipping the belt on your waist with finality.

He seems pleased with the answer, his smirk widening as he steps closer to you. Your fingers pinch the bottom of his mask, dragging the material down to its correct location over his eyes. He shamelessly allows his gaze to rove over your body, recalling how tight and needy you’d been just minutes ago.

“Next time, I’m gonna make you beg,” he warns, opening the door and slipping through, seductive gaze locking with yours. “Can’t wait ‘til then, Y/H/N.”

And after that, working together became a whole lot easier.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

make sure to shoot me a comment/ask/reblog if you enjoyed ♥︎ I’d love to receive any feedback!!!

thank you so much for reading!! Happy Valentine’s Day sweethearts :)

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#whewwwww #somebody call the fire departmentttt lawd #lmao not to toot my own horn but this was hot #i finished this ln when i was lit af and was so pleased to find this morning when editing minimal errors and i managed to stay on track woo #ok ok ill get over myself now #bakugou fic #bnha fic #mha fic #ground zero fic #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo smut #my fics #my fics katsuki

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

physical - pjm | m

lights out and follow the noise. baby keep on dancing like you ain't got a choice. so come on, let's get physical - physical, dua lipa

↳ summary- you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.

↳ rating- explicit

↳ word count- 6.2k

↳ pairing- park jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, fluff, comedy, fitness instructor!jimin, honestly this is pwp but with like 20% plot

↳ warnings- oral sex (m/f receiving) penetrative sex, sex in public, exhibitionism, spitting, slightly dom!jimin, jimin is v mouthy during sex, jimin is also a brat,

↳ a/n- hiiiii we back at it again. this fic brings me to 1 fic per member so i can finally feel good about repeats looloooolll also, this was very fun to write because i got to incorporate my love for exercise classes and my bias uwu. also jimin 100% would be the worst instructor to take a class from bc i would NEVER focus EVER AGAIN. pls feel free to message, comment, etc etc bc i love friendship. enjoy!!!!!

The sound of your spin shoes clipping into the pedals is like music to your ears.

You feel your shoulders relax as you roll them, warming and stretching the muscles of your arms and back. EDM beats play lightly over the impressive sound system, encouraging the riders to cycle to warm up for 45 minutes of adrenaline and heart-pumping cardio.

Spin class is one of your happy places. Group fitness classes give you a rush that solo workouts can’t compare to. You love the camaraderie, the support and the built in friendships. Plus, you love having someone at the front of the room tell you exactly what to do. So what, you’re a little subservient?

You smile at the ladies clipping into the bikes next to you, not knowing who they are but finding that everyone is friendly and wants the best for themselves and the group. It’s why you love these types of classes. Strangers become teammates.

You hadn’t bothered to check who was instructing today, having clicked on the class time that fit your schedule best. You hoped it was your favorite Hoseok, but had learned that all the instructors were just as good Hoseok was just so vibrant, he made you work harder.

The heat in your legs builds upon a low simmer, muscles warming for an intense class. A melodic voice sounds over the speakers, your instructor coming in and securing their place at the front of the room.

You take a moment to stop gaping. In front of you is quite possibly the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen in your short life.

He’s incredibly toned, wearing a tight adidas tank and second skin-like leggings. He clips into the bike on the podium and smiles at the class.

You’re sure you’re salivating. You curse yourself for picking the bike front and center today, now acutely aware how likely you were to drool over the instructor the entire time.

He notices your stare and winks before he adjusts his mic and speaks again.

“Good morning, everyone! I’ll be your instructor today. My name is Jimin and I’m happy to be here,” his voice is light and sounds like honey. It slithers down your skin and oozes into you. “Let’s get started at a quick pace of 90 rpm’s and warm up those legs!”

His dirty blonde hair glistens in the spotlight, thighs flex and ripple in his leggings. You’re frozen in your seat and it takes you four thumping heart beats to realize the class has started. Fuck. He will be the death of you. Nothing makes you lose focus in class.

You push your legs and begin, and he turns his gaze back on to you. It’s as if he lights a match and throws it on you, the way your body reacts under his stare. You wonder what it feels like to touch his chest, his toned arms. You bite your lip and pant, breathlessness unrelated to the exercise.

Class is torture. Everything Jimin says is a double entendre to your ears and you find your core aching and wet only 15 minutes in. Jimin looks perfect, up in third position on the bike, standing and hips pushed back. You can see his pert little ass in the mirror, and you want to cry. It’s beautiful, just like the rest of him.

“All right, let’s tap it back in 4, 3, 2, 1!”

Jimin pushes his hips to tap the seat with his ass, before standing back up as he pedals in time with the music. He looks delicious, sweat on his forehead. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and you nearly pass out at the sly smile curved on his face.

You attempt to do the workout but feel yourself faltering, missing the beat often. It frustrates you. Normally, you are at the top of the leaderboard, soaring above the others with your effort. Today you land near the bottom. All because of fucking Jimin and his perfect fucking body.

The arms circuit comes next and you are grateful for the reprieve from heavy resistance on your legs and a chance to sit and catch your breath. You grab the weight bar and hold it in your palms, ready to do bicep curls at the count of your instructor.

Jimin unclips from his bike and grabs his bar, before walking the length of the front of the room. He begins with the bicep curls and you choke. His arms ripple with the effort and his hands look so strong and veiny; your mind immediately fills with thoughts of his strong hands fingering you to completion. He counts out the numbers and winks at you again as you falter in your push and pull. You shut your eyes, avoiding looking at him, and focus on the curl of your arms.

It’s infuriating. You take pride in your fitness and find yourself most satisfied after an intense workout. This class has proven to be intense in a whole different manner, but you’re upset at the lost opportunity to push yourself and focus.

As your eyes flutter open again, Jimin moves to put the bar away and clip back into his bike. Only 15 minutes left. You can do this.

You definitely did not do it. The last fifteen minutes were pure torture. Jimin kept his monologue of encouragement going, but his voice was tinged with fatigue and he panted hard into the mic. Sometimes, during particularly tough resistance, he would add little grunts and “uh!”s to his countdowns. You felt your thighs tremble with each one, gasping at the fantasy of his grunts as he fucked into you.

Blessedly, the class ended and Jimin was leading the group through relaxing stretches to calm you down. It didn’t calm you in the least. You watch as he folds himself in half over the bike to stretch his hamstrings and you’re mesmerized when he stands on his bike to stretch his back out. You want to lick every inch of him, tease your tongue down every hard line of muscle you could see until it landed directly on his coc-

“Thank you, everyone! You did incredible!” Jimin cooes over the mic as he stands next to the bike. He bows slightly in reverence to the group, and the class is dismissed.

You’re not sure if you want to book it out of the room first or linger. You’re sure if he tries to talk to you, you’ll implode. Maybe you can leave in a crowd, while he’s talking to one of the older ladies sure to hit on him.

You pack up your water bottle and towel, patting the sweat on your face as you try to sneak past in a crowd of elderly women.

“Hey!” Jimin calls and you freeze. You look up to find the object of your frustrations smiling at you. Fuck. He was talking to you.

“Great job today,” he grins.

Little shit, you grumble internally. He knows perfectly well that you did dreadfully, coming in 12th place out of 15. A woman three times your age got first place, and it burned you more than you cared to admit.

“Thanks,” you murmur, awkwardly patting your face dry. You’re positive you look terrible. Red faced from exertion and arousal, sweating like a pig.

“You come here often, princess?” He asks as he walks closer to you. You find your breath catch in your throat and you’re unable to reply. He chuckles.

“Cat got your tongue?” His smirk is legendary and you want to slap or kiss it right off.

“I’m-,” you croak out, then clear your throat and steel yourself. “I come every other day. Sometimes more.”

Jimin can’t take his eyes off of you. He smirks again. “You should take another class of mine, doll.”

You blush, and you hope the already flushed color of your cheeks hides it.

“You could use the practice. Soon, you’ll get the hang of it.” He gives you a wink and leaves, leaving you stewing in anger and frustration at his words.

How dare he?! He assumed you were a novice! Your pride and ego burned. You were a regular! You always came in the top 3 of the class! It’s his fucking fault you couldn’t focus on class!

You grab your things from the locker you stored it in, change your shoes, and stomp out of the spin studio with only one thought on your mind.

The asshole, Park Jimin.

You avoided spin like the plague. You rationally knew he didn’t teach every single class there, but you couldn’t face it, face the place where he hurt your pride so quickly and turned your insides into molten lava.

You dragged your best friend Jungkook with you to yoga, a quick and heated vinyasa class. Jungkook was more of a weight lifting guy, but you had recently talked him into trying yoga, explaining the benefits of meditation and the stretching of his muscles and sinew would help improve his form. He caved and quickly found he liked it.

You spread your mat down on the warm wooden floor and let out a sigh. You had been looking forward to this class all week, and you were finally here. You ensured you were taking the class from your favorite instructor, Taehyung, when you booked you and Jungkook’s spot.

You smile at Jungkook as he settles himself into his mat, and you both begin stretching and chatting lightly before class begins.

The door opens just as you get into child’s pose, face toward the mat in between your thighs and arms stretched high above your head on the floor.

A silky voice, most decidedly not Taehyung’s, rolls over your body.

“Welcome everyone. I’m your substitute teacher today. My name is Park Jimin.”

Your head snaps up and you stifle a groan at the sight you’re welcomed with.

Jimin stands on the mat at the front of the class, directly in front of you, wearing nothing but long, lululemon tights that cling to his skin. Again, you chose to be front and fucking center. You can see the way his legs form in his leggings. His chest is bare, and you can’t stop staring at the defined lines of his abs. You want to cry.

He’s invaded your favorite spots twice now.

He recognizes you, startled for a moment, but quickly covers it with a wink in your direction. You let your head fall to the mat with a thunk.

The class is hot, literally. It’s 102 degrees Fahrenheit and you’re dripping with sweat. You move with precision through each sun salutation, ashtanga, and tree pose. The moves flow into one another, your favorite thing about vinyasa, and you pointedly avoid even looking at the instructor. You’re grateful you know all the moves by heart and can position yourself into them by memory.

You’re proud that you only falter a few times, heart stuttering every time Jimin walks by you to note your pose and call out the next position. You’ve never wanted to simultaneously fight and fuck someone so bad in your life.

It’s the final, relaxing poses of the class and you sigh with relief as you maneuver into sleeping swan. You slide out of down dog and slip your right knee between your hands, lean a bit to the right, and press your hips forward towards the ground. You can feel the delicious stretch in your hips and your eyes flutter at the release of tension. You lay down over your knee, allowing your arms to lay flat above your knee and press your hips down as far as you can.

It’s quiet, all you can hear is your breath. You see Jimin out of the corner of your eye assisting others push deeper into the pose, pressing his hands where they need the help. You gulp. Fuck.

You turn your head back towards the mat and focus only on your breathing and the stretch in your body. Jimin indicates to switch legs, and you do so effortlessly, sliding your left knee to the center and putting your right knee back.

It feels good to stretch, especially on your weaker left side. You inhale deeply and let it out as you try to push your hip forward more.

Suddenly, warm hands are on your lower back, right above the cleft of your ass. You bite your lip tight, knowing it’s Jimin, guiding you deeper. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Your breath catches as he presses down, humming his approval as your hips move with his hands and you gasp at the feel of the stretch. It feels even better going further than you could on your own. He laughs quietly through his nostrils, as he smooths his warm hands up under your shirt to rest on the skin of your back.

You feel as if you will explode. Just as your body reacts to his touch and caress, it’s gone and he’s moving to Jungkook to guide the weightlifter through his own pose.

The class ends and Jungkook smiles at you as you both lift from your ‘namaste’ bow.

“That was great!” He grins as he rolls up his mat. “Jimin’s a great teacher! We should take more of his classes.”

You silently cry, not sure your weak heart and pussy can handle any more of Jimin and his stupidly hot body and his ridiculous smile.

“Yeah, Kook,” you half-heartedly agree, not interested in divulging your sordid secret crush on the asshole who embarrassed you.

You’re packed up and exiting the room when the same familiar voice chimes.

“Hey, princess!”

You and Jungkook both turn around to see Jimin smiling at the head of the room. Jungkook looks at you questioningly, wondering why the instructor is calling you princess.

“You did good today,” Jimin notes. “You should come again sometime. We can make sure you’re really getting stretched out.”

Your cheeks flame impossibly red and you splutter. Jimin winks at you. This fucking asshole.

“Your hips seem a little tight. We can work on that.” He knows exactly what he’s fucking doing and you want to kick him in the dick just as much as you want to kneel in front of him to suck it.

“Sure, Jimin,” you grumble out before you drag Jungkook from the heated room.

Jungkook is all grins. “What was THAT?” He asks as you exit the yoga studio and head towards the subway. “He was basically asking to fuck you right there! How do you know him?!”

You pout at your best friend. “He doesn’t want to fuck! He just enjoys getting me worked up,” you sigh. “He was my spin instructor the other day, and he got me so fucking heated I nearly came in last place! In a class full of grandmas!”

Jungkook snickers as you both tap your metro cards and lean against the wall to wait for the next train.

“Girl, he was offering to help you stretch you out. He wants you.”

As much as it thrilled you, you couldn’t comprehend it. Jimin was ethereal. He surely had women throwing themselves at him. He simply enjoyed the teasing.

“Whatever, Kook. He told me I need practice at cycling. ME! I’m the goddamn spin queen!” The crowd around you watches you and you pale at the embarrassment. You lower your voice. “He just wants to see me fired up, for no fucking reason.”

“Okay, delusional,” he sighs, patting your sweaty head. “Believe what you want.”

You hmph in reply and watch as a train approaches to take you home.

You most definitely will believe what you want.

Jimin is fucking everywhere. If he’s not instructing, he’s taking the same fucking classes as you. Barre, Pilates, yin yoga, CrossFit. He’s always there and always taunting you with his perfect fucking body and teasing words and your fantasies of him drilling you into a mattress until you can’t talk.

You avoid group classes altogether. You can’t face him. Your fitness is suffering because of it.

You suck it up and go to the gym, the regular ass gym with no classes, and you’re determined to run a few miles on the treadmill and maybe get a good 20 minute lift in. It’s been too long since you’ve had the thrill of a good workout, the satisfying ache in your muscles. The gym will suffice. It’s missing the level of companionship that group classes provide, but it’s better than nothing.

You pop your earphones into your ears and click on some music, not caring what it was as long as it was quick, and press begin on the treadmill.

Running is easy. The strangers around you melt away and it’s just you and the treadmill. You love the way your heart is beating, sweat forming at your forehead. Finally. A good fucking workout.

All thoughts sweep away as you run, and your only thought process is on the push down of your feet on the treadmill belt and the pull up of your legs to lengthen your stride. The runner’s high was something you lived for, and you realize you should incorporate more running into your routine.

You don’t even pause for water, so wrapped up in the run's high that you don’t feel thirsty.

Your watch vibrates against your wrist, notifying you that the 60 minutes you set to run is up, and you slow your pace to a complete stop. You feel like you’re high. Your heart is racing and your body feels like it’s vibrating. This is what you had been missing in the weeks of unsatisfying classes. The flood of endorphins after a perfect workout.

You suck down some water, before removing your earbuds from your ears. The roar of the gym is loud, music and TVs and chatter from the gymgoers.

“You’ve got great running form, you know.” A familiar sultry voice is suddenly next to you, and your arms prickle.

You turn to gaze at the intruder and feel your body coil tight.

Park fucking Jimin. And his fucking ridiculously sexy smirk and perfect hair and godly body.

“Are you following me?!” You accuse. How the fuck is he everywhere you go!?

Jimin laughs out loud and leans against the treadmill next to you. “It’s not my fault you’re taking all my classes! One might think you’re following me.”

You scowl and push yourself off the treadmill.

“Hey, wait, don’t go!” he calls and grabs your arm.

You turn to glare at him. “You going to tell me I need more practice at running too?” your tone is harsh but you don’t care.

Jimin bites his lip and smiles at you. “Damn, is that why you hate me?” He asks.

“You told me I needed more practice at cycling! I'm great at cycling! Better than most!”

You’re aware that others are watching, but you can’t find it in you to care. You cross your arms underneath you, pressed up against your sports bra you deemed appropriate as a shirt.

“You looked like a beginner! I’m sorry!” He apologizes. “Hoseok told me later that you’re, like, one of the best! I have to reach out to the new riders! It’s mandatory!”

You suck your teeth, still unimpressed.

“When I saw you in yoga doing everything from memory, I knew you weren’t just some novice! I’m sorry for assuming, okay?” He sighs. “What had you so fucked up in spin, anyway?”

Your heart thuds to a skidding brake. There’s no way you can tell him the reason you sucked so bad in class was because you could only focus on how his cock would feel stuffed up inside you.

“I,” you falter. For the second time, Jimin has you stumbling over your words. “I didn’t feel well,” you lie.

Jimin snorts. “Bullshit.”

Your cheeks flush and you stay silent.

“You got distracted by me, didn’t you?” He smirks. You gape at the size of his ego. You wonder if his cock compares in size and then kick yourself for still thinking about his fucking dick.

“I’ll take the silence as a yes,” he winks as he throws an arm around your shoulder.

“You’re an arrogant prick, you know that?” You snark as you push his delicious, toned, silky arm off you.

“And you’re a selfish, competitive bitch.”

The grin on his face is shit-eating, and you find your blood boiling.

“You take that back!” You demand.

“Tell me I distracted you, that my presence fucked up the great ___, spin queen extraordinaire, and I will.”

All you see is red. Red, fiery anger. No. There was no fucking way you would let him win, revel in your shame in the middle of a crowded gym. You drag Jimin by his Nike tank top that shows almost 100% of his body, to the nearest ‘family shower’, pulling him inside and locking the heavy door behind you.

You push him against the door and press a finger to his chest.

“Fine! You did. You distracted me throughout fucking class,” you hiss. “All I could think about was sucking you off and seeing your lips on my pussy and riding your dick until we both can’t talk. Okay?! Happy now?!” You’re fuming, chest heaving with intensity.

Jimin's grin lights up ten times brighter.

“I thought the same things during class too,” he admits coolly.

Jimin has you speechless for the nth time. “What?” You breathe.

“When I saw you on the bike, I couldn’t stop staring at your tits and your lips. You looked so good. And then in yoga, that tight little ass was begging for me to spank it. While you were running, I was wondering what you’d look like cumming around my cock.”

He shrugs, the words rolling off his tongue as if he isn’t admitting he wants to defile you as much as you do him.

“Are you serious!!?” You squeak, heart beat thundering in your ears.

“100%,” he smirks and rests the back of his head against the door.

It’s silent for a beat as you stare each other down.

Fuck it.

Next thing you know, you’re launching yourself forward to press your lips to his in a searing hot kiss.

Jimin kisses back fervently, tongue swirling into your mouth as his hands wrap around your body. He finds purchase on your ass and squeezes it through the tight leggings.

You gasp and shudder at his hands roaming your backside. Jimin pulls his lips away and smirks. God, that fucking smirk.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“Yeah?” You ask as you move your hands to the front of his chest. He nods. “You know what I’ve wanted to do for a while?”

He grins and tilts his head. “What, princess?”

You drop to your knees, tugging his adidas tights down with you. His cock springs free, and you gape at the enormity of it.

“Shit,” he hisses suddenly as cool air hits him. “That was fucking hot.”

You’re encouraged by him and you wink up at him, before you’re wrapping your hand around his length to give it an introductory pump.

Jimin rewards you with a moan, unabashed in his volume. He doesn’t care who the fuck hears you two, this is the hottest thing he’s done in his life.

“So thick,” you murmur. “I wondered how big it was.”

Jimin can’t reply, because your lips are latching onto his dick with fervor and you lick and suckle at his length. Jimin’s eyes nearly roll back into his head at the suction of your mouth.

“Oh, my god,” he gasps. “Y-You’re ridiculously good at that.”

You preen under his praise and continue, allowing his length to the back of your throat. You let him gag you, saliva and tears both gathering at the sensation and Jimin stifles a cry. Your hand comes to his cock as you pull away and take a harsh breath, wiping away the tears from your gag reflex. You stroke him quickly, loving the way his weighty cock feels in your hands. As you pump him, the tip of your tongue teases at the slit of his head and Jimin swears loudly.

“Fuck! Christ, gonna make me cum,” he’s whiny. It’s adorable. He purses his pretty puffy lips as he moans for more, more of you. “Such a good girl, shit, ahhhhh,” he gasps as you suck him into your mouth again.

It doesn’t take long, the sensation of your hot mouth and hand jerking him sends him flying and he’s cumming hot stripes down your throat. You feel you’re on cloud nine as you swallow his seed, sucking at the tip until he hisses from overstimulation.

As you pull away, you open your mouth and extend your tongue to show him you dutifully swallowed his cum, and he groans.

“You’re a fucking filthy little thing, aren’t you?”

You nod in reply, and Jimin grips your jaw in his hand, forcing your mouth to stay open.

You jerk in his grasp as he spits into your mouth; the saliva hitting your tongue. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He releases you, and you swallow again.

“Kinky bitch,” Jimin cooes. “All for me.”

He pulls you up to stand in front of him, pressing his lips to yours again for another burning kiss.

It’s too short for your liking, as Jimin pulls away and manhandles you to sit on the sink. You’re obedient, smiling prettily. Fuck, you can’t believe it’s happening. You just sucked Jimin off, the same Jimin you’ve ogled and anguished over for weeks now.

“Let me see these tits,” he asserts as he tugs up the sports bra from your body. You comply, raising your arms up to allow him to pull it off.

He throws the bra to the floor and cups your breasts.

“Fuck,” he breathes as his thumbs rub across your nipples. You shiver from the cold air and the heat of his thumbs. “I jerked off thinking about these tits after spin.”

He lowers himself to lick at a nipple and you’re whining for more.

“Thought about pushing them together and fucking them like a pussy.” He bites down on your nub, causing you to squeal and jump. He soothes the flesh with a suck from his lips and languid circling of his tongue.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He smirks, eyes boring into yours as he roves your nipple with his delicious tongue “My kinky little whore wants her yoga instructor to fuck her pretty tits.”

You’re thriving, his words making your cunt ache. It’s dripping wet. You’re sure it’s leaking through the fabric of your leggings by now. Jimin being just as rough and filthy as your fantasies has you reeling.

“Yes,” you whine. “I want you to fuck your cock in my tits.”

Jimin hums around your nipple before switching to the other, ravaging it with the same attention as its twin received.

“God, you’re a fucking whore,” he whispers as he bites at your nipple hard enough to make you jerk in his grasp. “I love it.”

Your hips are moving against his body, desperate for friction where you need it most. It’s not lost on Jimin and he pulls off your tits with a pop. He marvels at his work. Your nipples are suckled fresh and red, perking and pebbling in the cold air.

“Mmm, does princess want some attention here?” He asks as he slides a hand down to grip your aching quim.

You gasp in response, shuddering at the feel of his palm against your core.

“P-please! Pretty please!” You beg.

He kisses at your breasts again, before he tugs your shoes and socks off, and pulls the leggings down your smooth legs and throws them to join the matching bra on the floor. He’s pleased when he notes you aren’t wearing panties.

You don’t care how you look, wanton and desperate. You spread your thighs wide, feet resting on the edge of the sink. Jimin gazes at you like you’re fine art, the Mona Lisa at the Louvre.

“Look at you,” he adores. “Spread out for me like a slut. And you’re dripping wet too, mmm.” He rubs a finger up and down your silky thigh.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He grips your chin with one hand while the other continues rubbing at your inner thigh. “A good little bitch for me.”

You nod and gasp as his fingers skim impossibly close to your cunt.

“Do you deserve it, princess? After you were so mean to me earlier?”

You pout and shiver. “I’m sorry!” You gasp as his finger hovered over your pussy. “I’m s-sorry! I was j-just upset! I didn’t meaaaaaaan it!” His finger dips and taps at your clit, feather light, and you’re crying at the feeling.

Jimin shushes you, finger still impossibly light on your clit. “Hush, baby. I forgive you. You sucked my cock so well, made me cum so hard.”

The finger increases pressure slightly and you’re aching, trembling for more.

“Good little sluts get rewarded, hm? I think you’ve earned yours, princess.”

You’re not given an opportunity to reply as Jimin harshly thrusts two fingers into your cunt and fucks you furiously. Your moan is impossibly loud, loud enough you’re sure the rest of the gym can hear you but all you can focus on is Jimin, Jimin, Jimin and his thick fucking fingers thrusting into you.

He lowers down and licks at your clit, flicking it up and down. He watches as your body trembles, wails echoing off the tile walls.

“Mmm, my pretty little princess, so fucking wet for me.” He emphasizes with a kiss to your clit, before he sucks it into his lips. The tugging makes stars shine in your vision, nearly blacking out from how good it feels.

Jimin can feel that you are close, and as much as he wants to get you off with his fingers, he wants you to cum on his cock more. He pulls away from you, and you’re whining at the loss.

“Hush, princess,” he sighs. “Be good, no whining.”

You quiet immediately but still feel a throb in your core. He delivers a harsh slap to your cunt, surprising you and making you yelp. Jimin grins and kisses your lips.

“Stand up and turn around and face the mirror, doll.”

You move to comply, hop off the counter to turn and press your back against Jimin. You can see yourself in the gym mirror now. You look fucked out completely. Your tits are blooming red where he suckled at your nipples, eyes hooded and blown wide with lust.

Jimin’s lips tickle at your ear and he whispers, “This is what I imagined during spin class. Seeing you so fucked out and wet for me. These pretty tits marked by me,” he cups one, and pinches at the nipple. “My sweet little princess.”

His hand moves up to your throat, giving it a solid squeeze, and you shut your eyes. Euphoria. Pure bliss.

“That’s right, baby,” he kisses the shell of your ear. “All mine. Such a slut for me.”

You’re nodding, eyes still closed, as he removes his hand and pressed your head down towards the sink. You wiggle your ass and rub against his length, giggling at the feel.

“I want you to watch yourself get fucked by me. You’re gonna watch me ruin this tiny little cunt,” he grunts. “You’re going to watch what I fantasized about in every fucking class I saw you in.”

You realize you’re moaning loudly, the sound spilling out of your lips subconsciously as the head of his dick rubs your pussy lips. He hisses at the wetness, loving the way it slicks up his cock with ease.

“Eyes open, my love,” he orders gently when he notices you’ve closed them. They snap open and your gaze falls on him in the mirror. He looks so fucking good, so hot and feral. His muscles glisten in the light, a sheen of sweat from his workout and from the heat of your bodies pressing together.

He winks at you, the same one he gave you that fucking blasted day at spin, and then pushes into your tight heat in one go.

“Oh, fuck, Jimin!” you’re gasping as your walls stretch to accommodate him.

He grits his teeth for a moment, savoring the feel of your silken walls. “Told you we needed to stretch you out, need to get you nice and loose.”

You shiver as he remains still inside of you, but he’s quickly pulling out of you to impale you again. The sound of flesh slapping on flesh fills the room and you can hear the wetness of your cunt around him.

“Shit,” he moans. “You’re so fucking tight, unghhhh. Gonna ruin this little pussy, baby. Gonna make you never want another cock in you except mine.”

You believe him. You’re sure after this you’ll never even notice another man. Jimin has you wrapped around his finger, he has since the first day you met at spin.

“All yours,” you squeak through the thrusts, watching your tits jiggle. He notices your stare and roughly grabs at one, squeezing it until you reward him with a loud groan and the tightening of your cunt.

“That’s right. You’re mine. Ahhhh, wanna make you my girl, baby. Gonna fuck this little hole every night. You’d like that, huh?” You nod in reply, and he slaps your ass with his free hand. “Use your filthy words, bitch.”

You gasp at the sharp sting and splitter a response. “P-please! I want you! Only want you inside me.” You’re half coherent to the words you’re speaking, his dick is literally fucking you stupid.

He grins in reply, swatting your ass again. The pain sends a tingle straight to your clit and you squeeze his cock inside you, causing him to groan out loud.

“God, you’re so perfect. So fucking perfect for me,” he babbles. “Gonna fuck you in the spin studio. And at yoga. Gonna fuck you in barre while everyone watches.”

The high you’re feeling is unparalleled. You’re sure you’ve felt nothing quite like this, never been fucked so good in your lifetime. Jimin knows how to work you up, both emotionally and physically, and brings out the beast in you.

You can feel your release building, already so close from his incessant fingering and tonguing of your clit.

“J-Jimin!” You’re heaving his name, harsh pants signaling your oncoming climax. “S-so close!”

He becomes rabid, fucking into you at a pace you’re sure isn’t human. He angles his dick to hit right at your spongy wall, thrusting into your g-spot with ease, as if he knows your body inside and out.

“Yeah, cum for me, whore. Cum on my cock.”

It feels heady, feeling him thrust inside you and murmur such filth to you. He wants you and only you. The notion is as orgasmic as his cock itself. The tightness in your core builds, builds, leaning on the precipice of euphoria.

“Cum for me, baby, come on. Mark me as yours.”

His possessive tone is the last thing you hear before the waves of orgasm pound over you like a typhoon. Your cunt clenches and flutters hard around his dick and he’s moaning your name. You feel how tight you are, his cock stilling inside you as he reaches his own high.

“Oh, shit! Shit shit shit!” he gasps. “Gonna be full of my cum, baby! You’re mine!”

Hot ropes of cum coat your core, and you’re relishing in the feeling.

“My god,” Jimin sighs. He lets his softening cock remain inside you as he presses a kiss to your back.

“Is it too early to say I love you?” He jokes. Your heart flutters as you wiggle your ass.

“No, but take me to dinner first.”

He slaps at your red ass lightly, right where he spanked it before. His grin lights up the room.

“With pleasure.”

“Hi, welcome to class, I’ll be your instructor today. My name is Jimin. Let’s get started.”

You smile from your seat, front and center, and move your legs in time with the music.

The instructor catches your eye and winks at you.

Spin is even better now, if that’s possible. You spend your time in class with your deliciously sweaty boyfriend, who doesn’t go easy on you. He pushes you, makes you better and faster and stronger. He rewards your first place spots by eating your pussy until you cry.

Life is better. You’ve found your person, the one who will do everything with you, for you. He loves you, completely and fully. You’ve never felt more cherished in your long years of living.

Class ends before you know it, and you linger as the group meanders out to the lobby, leaving Jimin and you alone.

“Hey, princess,” he calls to you as you rub the sweat from your face.

You look up to see a sly smile on his face.

“You should stay back and practice. I think you need it,” he chides, teasingly.

Your heart skips a beat as he closes the door, barring you from exiting the room full of bikes, and approaches you with a leer.

“Oh, yeah?” You place a hand on your hip.

“Yeah, and I think I know just the instructor who can help.”

Jimin pounces on you with a kiss, and your giggles fill the room.

Life is better now, and it will get even more so. Jimin glances back at the podium as you scurry to get your leggings off, his eyes resting on the velvet ring box.

Yeah, it will definitely get better.

#maknaesmutsociety #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswritersnet #heartsforbts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts jimin #bts park jimin #bts fic #bts fanfic #jimin smut

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dr-imagines-modfuyuhiko · 4 years

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hiya, mod fuyu !! hope you've been well !! i was wondering if i could rq a fuyuhiko x GN!reader imagine where the reader confesses to fuyu but he rejects them bc he doesn't want them to get hurt or targeted? (since he's a yakuza n stuff-) could end happily or sadly, i am up for both !! thank you so much in advance !! <3

Fuyuhiko rejecting GN!reader to keep them safe

I have been well, thank you! I hope the same for you <3

I actually have an idea for this one cause I was recently talking about this kinda issue with a friend (we were making Love Hotel scenes for the characters in the first 2 games, may or may not post them at some point). I may or may not rewrite it better? I haven’t decided yet, but I probably will.

Another request!!

Category: Angst to fluff imagine

Specifics: GN!reader, takes place in the anime Despair Arc, no Ultimate (reserve course), affiliation- well you’ll see ;)

Warnings: Mentions and vague descriptions of gangs/violence, spoilers for game and anime

When you had figured out you had a crush on a gangster, you knew there were risks.

So you can imagine your own disappointment in yourself when you realized the gangster you liked was the Ultimate Gangster. A Kuzuryu. You fell in love with a Kuzuryu.

But oh lord did you fall deep.

You were already friends with Natsumi, you were used to dealing with the overly aggressive and arrogant front from your brothers. So becoming friends with the girl was easy. Hajime didn’t see how you were able to do such a thing, but appreciated it since it meant he had to break up less fights between her and Sato.

But then there was the day you met the older brother of the (self-proclaimed) Ultimate Little Sister.

The boy hated you at first, especially when he saw what looked to be a gang symbol on that jacket you wore almost all the time. But he mostly hated you due to his overprotective nature of Natsumi. Even though he wouldn’t say it out loud, it was painfully obvious that he was simply looking out for her. You understood, of course. Your own older brother was like that constantly when he was alive. And now that you were the oldest sibling, it was your job to be that way with your other brother.

After a little while though, he learned to not pay much mind when he heard your motorcycle come up to the school. Or when he would see you next to Natsumi. Nor when she would bring you up in conversation like you were the only one she actively hung out with. Through further investigation, he found this was exactly the case. It took longer than he would’ve liked, but he found that Natsumi only had one actual friend. And that was you. That’s when he started to appreciate you a bit.

However, he noticed rather quickly that she only ever used your first name. She never mentioned your last. This made Fuyuhiko suspicious, but he figured she didn’t want your name out amongst the clan.

After Natsumi died, the boy began to see and hear of you even more often. Apparently you had made friends with Peko at the funeral, which he certainly did not expect. He didn’t even realize she had invited you to the funeral by demand of his father. But it was that fact that got him to finally take an interest in you.

Your first meeting that wasn’t a simple wave from you followed by a scoff from him was when you were with Peko in the dojo. He watched the two of you train and meditate, not saying too much until you mentioned your little brother. You had an angry little sibling, that’s how you became friends with Natsumi...

So naturally, that’s what he brought up when the three of you left. You and Fuyuhiko were walking next to each other to your motorcycle home while Peko went her respective route (as to not be connected as Fuyuhiko’s bodyguard). The two of you got along well, surprising the short boy. You could handle his anger issues and calm him down just as well as you did with his sister.

Eventually it had gotten to the point where you got along too well. Which is what lead to today...

—————

You found yourself running out of the reserve course building faster than Hajime even. He watched you run off with a chuckle, wishing you luck on your mission. What was that mission exactly? Confessing your feelings to a certain yakuza.

You had met up with Peko earlier that day, she helped you prepare the letter and cookies. She then took them to her classroom and placed them on Fuyuhiko’s desk. When he had first seen the two, he immediately asked Peko who put them there.

“I did.” She said nonchalantly before quickly adding, “I was asked to by someone.”

Fuyuhiko raised an eyebrow, curious as to why she hadn’t given a name. He knew it couldn’t be from Peko, he would’ve seen her make the cookies. He also knew she wouldn’t deliver him anything that was unsafe, so he opened the letter before the bag of sweets.

—————

Dear Fuyu,

Before you ask, you do know me, but I’m not telling you who I am just yet. All you need to know for now is that I really like you, I have for a while. Even before we met, I admired you from a distance, which is kinda embarrassing to tell you.

If you‘re at all interested in who sent you this, I’ll be waiting at the fountain between the reserve and main course buildings. Hope to see you there... <3

—————

Now this got the gears in Fuyuhiko’s head turning. Someone liked him? Why? How?? Who???

Peko refuses to tell him either, using the excuse “you said I don’t work for you while at school” with a small playful smirk. He wanted to yell at her but it was Peko, he just can’t bring himself to yell at her.

He spent the rest of the day trying to figure out who sent it. It wouldn’t be anyone in class cause Peko put it there. He wasn’t close with many others in different classes. Part of him thought it was someone in the reserve course because it said to meet them between the two course buildings. Except Y/n was the only one he was close with in the reserve course, plus they were the only person to call him “Fuyu”. But there was no way they liked him back... right?

So he went with the only option he had, he was going to see who gave him this letter.

—————

You sat there at the fountain. Hajime had told you it’d be a good place to meet up with Fuyuhiko, since he often sat here with Chiaki. He told her to meet him somewhere else today for you. So here you sat, waiting for someone who may not be interested in coming.

Just as you were considering giving up and going home, you caught a glimpse of a short blonde boy in a main course uniform.

��Y/n..?” He sounded like he didn’t believe you were there. You gave an awkward wave.

“Did you like the cookies?” Your voice was light as he walked up to you, standing only a few feet away.

“Yeah.. they were really good..”

Fuyuhiko’s face was slightly scrunched, like he was thinking about something serious. It left you concerned but you didn’t know what to say. Instead there was a short and kind of awkward silence. It was deafening. After about a minute, he voiced his thoughts.

“You realize how dangerous this is, right?”

Your head tilted in question, making the boy sigh.

“Don’t.. get me wrong, Y/n. I... I-I really like you too.” Your face lit up for a moment, making his next words hard for him to let out. “But.. I’m a yakuza- the heir to the most dangerous gang in Japan.. people are gonna target you. I can’t have that.” He let out another sigh.

Your own face contorted into one of slight confusion. It slowly turned into amusement, causing you to cover your mouth to let out a stifled laugh. Fuyuhiko looked back up, clearly irritated.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?!”

His angry voice was amusing to you and made you laugh even more. This only pissed the boy off further. He stepped forward again and grabbed you by the shoulders, bringing your face close to his.

“This fucking is serious, Y/n! I don’t want to get some call that someone has you hostage! I don’t want to make you go into hiding cause someone threatened to hurt you! I don’t want to end up with you beaten to a pulp! I don’t want to find you dead in a warehouse cause they want to get back at the Kuzuryu clan! I just fucking can’t! Not after.. not after Natsumi..”

His hurt words forced you to calm yourself down. You took a breath and brought your hands from your mouth to his face, his freckled and blush-marked cheeks in your palms. A reassuring smile was steady on your lips.

“Fuyu, what’s my last name?”

The question took him off-guard for the third time that day. He knew Natsumi never mentioned it, neither did Peko. Why did this matter?

“I-I don’t know,” he answered honestly anyways. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he waited for a response.

“Owada.”

Fuyuhiko froze for a second. Owada? As in the biker gang Crazy Diamond?? How did he not figure that out??? Your motorcycle, the jacket you almost always wore, hell even the mention of your dead older brother and alive younger one should’ve been a hint.

It took him a minute to realize why you would bring that up. You had protection from that sort of thing. You were used to being targeted. You could defend yourself with ease. You weren’t gong to end up beaten to a pulp or dead in a warehouse like he had feared. You could take care of yourself even with all the violence surrounding gangs, cause you were the coleader of one. Or at least, your brother was the leader and the gang would protect you.

Once again, you let out a small laugh at his facial expression. It had snapped him out of his thoughts before he angrily grabbed you by the collar. He gave one last look into your happy eyes before kissing you.

To say it was inexperienced was an understatement. But you couldn’t care less, this boy was yours. He felt you soften up and let himself do the same, relaxing into the feeling of your connected lips.

Pulling away, you could see the smile on his face grow wide and the red on his face spread even wider. Both of you stood there for a while, simply staring into each other’s eyes. That is until you heard the engine of a motorcycle in the street.

“Y/n!” You let out a sigh and turned to your younger brother with a deadpan face.

“Mondo, I’m in the middle of something here.”

“You can have your fuckin kissy-face shit later, right now the dudes n chicks are wondering where their soon-to-be former leader is! You’re late for your step down party!”

Step down party? Fuyuhiko decided not to question it too much, he’ll probably ask about it later though.

Mondo stood from his bike and took a few strides towards you and the short boy, causing Fuyuhiko to look around to see if Peko had followed him like she usually did. And of course, she had, right behind the bushes surrounding the fountain. He turned back to see you next to your brother, smacking the back of your his head and messing up his pompadour. He looked like he wanted to smack you back but he knew he’d be in some deep shitif he tried. You turned back to Fuyuhiko, kissing him on the cheek lightly.

“I gotta head back, but I was thinking maybe I could get you a ride around town on my bike tomorrow? Like as a first date maybe?”

His smile couldn’t be wider.

“Yeah, I’d really like that- but don’t fuckin crash and kill me!”

“Just cause I’m stepping down as leader for Mondo doesn’t mean I won’t know how to drive a motorcycle anymore, Fuyu!”

He smiled as you let out a final laugh, turning towards the motorcycle Mondo had driven as getting on the backseat. Said brother tried to turn and yell at Fuyuhiko one last time.

“Hurt them and I fuckin swear-”

“-Mondo shut the fuck up and get on.”

“Peko, you’re not killing my partner’s brother.”

#fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #fuyuhiko #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu x reader #fuyuhiko x reader #danganronpa fuyuhiko #dr2 #dr2 imagines #dr2 fuyuhiko

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prfctparis · 3 years

Text

Red Jell-O and A Trip to the Healers

AO3 Link

summary: in which mace windu spends part of night with two of the most stubborn kids in the jedi order. if he had any hair, they might make him go gray within the hour.

a/n: ok so basically, lately my mind has been super duper focused on my star wars au (which exists solely in my head right now) where anakin doesn’t turn to the dark side mostly bc he has a little sister (aka my oc zariza) and other factors, and instead of rambling about that for paragraphs on end i’ll just say: this is a drabble/one shot thing that takes place in that au, but years before the clone wars begins. if you’re curious, and if i did my math right, anakin is 14 here and zariza is 10. but yeah, hope u enjoy reading this!

Master Jedi Mace Windu stares at the young girl with a carefully blank expression. The youngling – an initiate, no older than ten, if he remembers correctly – stares back, almost as if she is daring him to say something, which… Doesn’t surprise him. Not in the slightest. This is Skywalker Number Two, after all, and even though she is much quieter than her older brother, she no doubt causes as much mayhem as he does.

He just wants a snack. He ran out of them in his own quarters. Looking at the young girl, something tells him he won’t be getting the snack.

Mace refrains from sighing.

This is not how he thought his night was going to go.

“Initiate Skywalker,” he begins, hoping it comes off as a greeting than a silent reprimand. “What a coincidence it is seeing you here.”

Her dark eyes narrow the slightest bit. The expression simultaneously looks like Anakin yet nothing like him at all.

Honestly, though he is loath to admit it, sometimes he forgets the two are brother and sister. After all, they hardly look anything alike – different fathers, he remembers Master Healer Che explain to him and the Council members when they were wondering if they were actually related. Anakin has blond hair that is bleached light from his years on Tatooine yet now is slowly darkening with age, and bright blue eyes and tanned, fair skin, whereas his sister has wild and wavy dark brown hair that almost looks black with eyes to match, and light brown skin. She also has abnormally sharp canines for a human – no doubt a hint at whatever type of alien race that is in her blood; they have yet been able to figure it out.

They both do that damn stubborn chin tilt thing, though.

It can be…aggravating, to say the least, when someone is trying to get them to do something and they don’t want to.

Mace gives into sighing when she doesn’t budge. “Zariza,” he tries again, “what are you doing? It is midnight.”

The stubborn chin tilt stays. Kriff. “I could ask you the same thing,” she says.

“You should be sleeping.”

“…So should you.”

“Skywalker.”

“Window.”

Mace’s brow twitches. Okay. Okay, he can deal with a ten year old. He successfully taught Depa, didn’t he?

(Then again, Depa hadn’t been a child who was hell bent on infuriating him on purpose; she had also been thirteen, and the only chaos she brought and still brings are the occasional pranks on him and the jokes about his bald head; luckily the padawan drama ended with the beginning of her Knighthood.)

If only Master Rheba Toome was available – or Kenobi. They both have somehow managed to become the designated Skywalker Wranglers, as Master Koon had once said after an incident when a slightly murderous droid with a flesh eating plant attached to it got loose in the Temple last year.

An idea comes to him suddenly. “You tell me why you are in the Temple’s kitchens so late, and I will say nothing to your crèche master. I might even let you leave with what you came for–,” he doesn’t miss the subtle yet sudden jolt of suspicious relief, “–but if you don’t, I will take you out of here myself and speak to Crèche Master Aryn the moment we get back to your clan.”

There’s a long, tense silence where Zariza debates with herself in her head. So long that Mace wonders if he will have to repeat himself. Then, “Ani’s sick.”

That…is not what Mace had been expecting. He raises a brow. “He is?”

She nods, and points to the fridge a few feet away. “And he likes the red jell-o.”

“Is he in the Halls?” Mace asks, growing slightly concerned because Obi-Wan got sent out to a solo mission just the day before and Padawan Skywalker hadn’t been allowed to go. He didn’t put up much of a fight, which shocked yet pleased everyone. Now, he knows possibly why he didn’t, and that makes the situation slightly worrying.

Zariza opens her mouth, pauses, closes it with pursed lips, and shakes her head no.

“And why isn’t he?”

She shrugs, a bit defensively. “I dunno. Probably thinks he’s fine. He went to his lessons all day – Aayla tried talking him into going to Healer Bant but it didn’t work.”

Mace frowns with furrowed brows, but quickly smooths his expression when gets a sense of guilt and shame and a vague impression of an apology, though he doesn’t know what for. He kneels down without a second thought, and hates (that’s not the Jedi way–) how her chin is tilted down, eyes casted to the side, as if expecting some harsh punishment for…what? Caring for her brother? Telling Mace that he’s sick? If he was any less of a Jedi, the ones who enslaved the Skywalkers would be six feet under.

He makes sure to release the anger into the Force before speaking again; he will need to meditate later. “I am not upset with you, little one. Not anymore, at least. I’m simply concerned about your brother’s health right now,” he assures her.

Zariza huffs, still looking away, but she’s no longer tucking her chin into her chest. “So am I,” she mumbles petulantly. “S’why I want the red jell-o. He likes it.”

“So you have said. Can you tell me how he was feeling last time you saw him? Or in your Force bond, right now?”

“Uh… Sick.” A beat; Mace refrains from spouting a heavily sarcastic remark to a ten year old. “Um. He threw up once he got back to his and Obi-Wan’s rooms. Said something ‘bout being really, really tired earlier. He’s sleeping now.”

Mace hums, and stands up. “All right. Well then, let’s go. I want to check on him, and if needed I will be taking him to the Halls of Healing.”

Zariza frowns as she finally looks at him, but then her eyes travel to the fridge. There’s a silent question there. She goes to ask it but stops herself, and nods. “Okay,” she says instead, almost a mumble, and turns to leave.

He watches her for a second, glances at the fridge that holds the red jell-o, and then moves to walk beside her. “If I was sure it would not upset his stomach, I would let you take some jell-o to him now. But… Maybe tomorrow, if he is feeling better, you can.”

As she tilts her head to look up at Mace in surprise, he makes sure to stare straight ahead. “…Really?”

Mace nods. Then, looks down at her and gives her the barest of smiles. “Really.”

Zariza’s eyes narrow once again. “You promise?”

“I promise– but only if he feels better,” he emphasizes when she starts to grin. “No other time than that.”

“What if he asks for some and he doesn’t feel better?”

Patience, he reminds himself as they walk through the sun halls of the Temple. “Then ask Master Healer Che, or one of the other Healers.”

He gets silence as a response and he glances down to make sure she hasn’t suddenly run off. It’s happened before with her crèche master and Master Rheba Toome and Knight Kenobi – one could say she has a knack for simply sneaking off at the most random times – and he would very much dislike if she snuck away from him in the dark hallways. But, she’s still at his side, clearly thinking about something. Hopefully about what Mace just said and not about putting another flesh eating plant on a half working droid of Anakin’s.

“…What if there aren’t any Healers around?”

“There will be.”

“But what if there aren’t?” she presses.

Mace sighs quietly, hopefully enough to where Zariza doesn’t notice. “Then wait for one.”

More silence. Another glance. She’s still there.

“…I guess I can do that,” she says.

That is, well, kind of concerning. But better than the girl outright disagreeing with him, that’s for sure.

The rest of the walk to Knight Kenobi’s and Padawan Skywalker’s room is done in silence. Mace acknowledges the nocturnal Jedi with a nod, and Zariza shyly waves at the ones who notice her. When they get there Zariza let’s herself in, unlocking the quarters with zero problem, and hurries inside. Mace follows at more relaxed pace. He notices as she takes one look at the living area’s couch, frowns, and makes her way to the little hallway. Mace looks as well, and notices the padawan’s abandoned holopads for a few of his lessons, as well as just a general mess of the area that one would expect from a 14 year old when left alone.

Zariza speaking tears Mace’s attention away from the mess.

“Why the kark are you lying on the bathroom floor? ”

“E chu ta, Zari! None of your business.”

Ah. Huttese cuss words. Nothing unusual, but still.

“Watch your language, young ones,” Mace reprimands lightly, and makes his way to the bathroom where Anakin, indeed, lying on the bathroom floor.

Anakin groans. “Ah, chuba, why’d you bring him?” He sounds pitiful, so much so that it comes out as a whine more than anything. He’s sweating, too, and sickly pale, with visible bags under his eyes from where Mace and Zariza stand at the bathroom entrance. By the smell, Mace and tell that he’s thrown up again. None of is visible, so he’s sincerely hoping Anakin made it to the toilet in time and flushed.

“Because you’re a sick koochoo,” Zariza says.

“Language,” Mace says almost absentmindedly.

She huffs and crosses her arms. “I only called him an idiot.”

“I’m not sick,” the teen denies. It’s a weak argument. Mace can only raise an eyebrow. “And I’m not an idiot, either!” Raising his voice defensively sends Anakin into a coughing fit that ends rather quickly. He groans and curls into a ball, all the while keeping his face on the tile flooring.

Zariza rolls her eyes. “And I’m Jabba.”

Mace sighs and enters the bathroom. He crouches down to Anakin, and places the back of his hand on the boy’s forehead. He jerks away just as quickly, though that doesn’t keep Anakin from making a pitiful sound at the loss of contact. Mace’s lips form a thin line. “I think it’s best if I take you to the Healers, Padawan Skywalker,” he says.

“Nooo, I’m not sick!”

Mace shakes his head. “You are – you have a fever, Skywalker, and it’s best we take you to the Halls of Healing since Knight Kenobi is off planet.”

He mumbles and groans something indiscernible.

Zariza walks over and nudges Anakin’s side with her foot. “Do you want some red jell-o?”

“Kriff no.”

Mace almost tells them to watch their language again, but decides that is a fight he will have with them another day. Preferably during daylight hours and not at midnight when they were all supposed to be healthy and sleeping. Preferably, it won’t be him having such conversations with them.

(Truthfully, he loves the children in the Order, the Skywalker siblings included – but right now in his exhausted, slightly hangry state, he can only spend so much time with them.)

She hums. “What about tomorrow?”

Anakin stills. “…Maybe.”

The initiate grins and looks at Mace, clearly pleased with the answer.

He nods and gives her a smile of acknowledgment, then refocuses on the task at hand. “Can you get up and walk? Or will I be carrying you?”

Anakin gives another response that might as well be in another language, and Mace closes his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He breathes in slowly a few times, centers himself, and opens his eyes again a few moments later.

“Okay. Carrying, it is.”

Anakin hardly protests – well, he tries, at least, but it can hardly be counted as anything – and Mace picks up him with not too much difficulty; one arm around the boy’s shoulders, the other under his knees. As Mace leaves the rooms, Zariza follows and turns off the lights along the way, and even locks the door once they are out into the hallway.

And then she starts talking. Continuously.

It’s a vast difference from earlier, and it catches Mace by surprise. Quickly, though, it dawns on him that she’s talking for her brother’s benefit. From droids to podraces to Master Yoda’s swamp stew to the names of new plants she has learned about, and so and so forth. Something about the rambling must help, because Anakin relaxes more as the walk to the Halls of Healing goes by. So much so that he gives up on holding his head up and rests it on Mace’s shoulder, almost passing out completely by the time they make it to the Halls, Zariza tapering off about a holoshow she heard one of the older initiates talk about the other day.

“Master Windu,” one of the Master Healers, a nocturnal species, greets with a bow. Dark, large eyes focus on the brother and sister once they stand straight. “Ah, and the Skywalkers,” they say, playfully flicking their tail in Zariza’s direction to get a giggle out of her.

“Hullo,” she says, smiling up at the Healer.

“Healer Rou,” Mace returns the greeting. “I’m afraid we have a sick padawan on our hands.”

“Hm, yes I see,” Healer Rou says, and moves closer to rest a hand on Anakin’s forehead just like Mace had done before. They remove it quickly, though not as fast Mace did. “He definitely has a fever. How long has he been feeling badly?”

The question is aimed to Mace, but he looks down at Zariza for the answer.

Her eyebrows raise at the realization. “What? Oh, uh… Last night, maybe?” She shrugs, shuffling awkwardly. “I dunno, really, I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize, little one,” Healer Rou assures her. They pat her head with a kind smile. “It is okay if you don’t know.”

Zariza nods, relaxing a little. “He, uh, he’s puked a couple of times.”

Healer Rou hums, and motions for them to follow them. They do. “It is most likely a stomach virus of sorts, nothing too serious and nothing we can’t handle. It has been going around this month, I’m afraid. Padawan Skywalker will be the fifth one to have gotten it. I am assuming the plan is to have him spend the time here while he gets better? Until Knight Kenobi returns, that is.”

Mace nods while they enter a medical room, and carefully sets Anakin on the bed after Zariza dashes forward to pull the covers back. “Yes, it is. And Initiate Skywalker wants to give him his favorite red jell-o tomorrow if able.”

Healer Rou smiles, amused. “Of course. Come by at lunch and if he can stomach it, whoever’s rotation it is should allow it. Now; I have got everything under control from here, Master Windu – I will be sure to keep you updated, and will send a message out to Knight Kenobi letting him now as well.”

“Thank you, Healer Rou,” Mace tells them.

“Yeah, thanks Healer Rou!” Zariza exclaims, and rushes to hug the Jedi.

Healer Rou chuckles, hugging the young girl back. “Of course. Head on off to bed, now; we don’t need two sick Skywalkers,” they tease.

“Fine, I guess,” she sighs, far too dramatically for a ten year old that has both adults stifling their laughs.

But unfortunately, it actually takes ten more minutes to leave. Master Vokara Che appears, and speaks to Mace about how long Anakin might have to stay while Healer Rou pulls up Anakin’s medical file. Mace signs what he needs to, double checks with Vokara Che and Rou what he knows about any medicinal allergies he might have, and then leaves. Zariza sticks like glue to him the entire time.

Two steps out of the Halls of Healing, Mace stops in his tracks and picks her up after she yawns three times in less than two minutes.

“Th’nks fo’ helpin’, Window,” she mumbles into his shoulder with muffled, half asleep words.

Mace sighs, but smiles despite himself. He gently pats her back. “Of course, Zariza. Let’s get you back to your clan, hm?”

The answering soft snore he gets in return has him chuckling.

He hadn’t planned on his night to go this way, but he would be lying if he said he regrets it.

#star wars oc #mace windu #anakin skywalker #oc: zariza #take the fear that i don’t need #my writing #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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hellothereobi · 4 years

Text

Obi-Wan x Reader

Request: “Hi, I noticed you were taking request and well its very cold and snowy where I am so I was wondering if you could write a really fluffy Obi Wan Kenobi fic where he and the reader are just both really cuddly bc its cold. If possible could you use gender neutral terms? Thanks ❤.”

I really hope you enjoy this!! and once again I’m so sorry about the wait!

****************************************************************************************************

Snow cascaded down from the dark sky, landing on two figures making their way through a fairly empty town. Y/N tried to maintain their calmness by drawing the force to them, trying to keep warm through the force was a weak point of their Jedi training.

“Master, perhaps we should stop somewhere,” Y/N shivered, while rubbing their hands along their arms, hoping to gather enough friction to warm up slightly.

Obi-Wan glanced over to Y/N, noticing how cold they seemed to be. He sighed inwardly, they really ought to keep moving along if they were to reach their destination at the right time, but a cold, tired padawan was really no good to him.

Obi-Wan stopped walking and began to look around, his eyes laid upon a small inn.

“We shall rest over at that inn, my dear.” he smiled softly Y/N.

Relief shot through Y/N’s body, a smile widened across their face, “Thank you, Master!”

Obi-Wan nodded in return as he walked over to the entrance of the inn, he opened the door for his fellow padawan.

Y/N quickly ran through the threshold of the inn, their padawan braid flying behind. Warmth instantly ran through their body as they entered the warm inn, Y/N headed over to the fireplace holding their hands out to let warmth gather in their palms.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan greeted the owner of the inn, with a polite smile.

“Hi there folks!” the owner greeted warmly while throwing a hand out to Obi-Wan to shake.

“We need a room for two for just tonight.”

Y/N headed over to the two men talking, once they could move their fingers.

“Of course!” the owner said as he grabbed a key for Obi-Wan, “you’re just in luck, we only have one room left.”

“Thank the stars!” Y/N replied as they tugged their braid, it was a nervous habit they had, had since they were a youngling.

The owner chuckled softly, “You’re room number is on the key chain.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan replied as he headed over to the stairs leading to the rooms.

Y/N quickly followed behind their Master.

“Now, Y/N we will have to leave bright and early so we can make it back in time to meet up with the council,” Obi-Wan explained to Y/N as he unlocked their room.

Y/N nodded, “I understand, wha-” Y/N abruptly stopped as they took a look around the room.

One bed sat in the center of the room.

A blush settled on Y/N’s cheeks, “Should we try finding another place? Or I could just suck it up and we can continue our way to our destination?”

Obi-Wan controlled his emotions, and kept a neutral expression on his face, “No, you take the bed, young one, I shall take the floor.”

“But Master that can’t be comfortable for you!”

“My dear Padawan, I’ve slept on far more uncomfortable surfaces before,” Obi-Wan smiled, comfortably.

Y/N nodded slowly, “I’m sorry Master, I should’ve just pushed myself to keep walking.”

“Y/N it takes time controlling the force, you’re already doing amazing,” Obi-Wan smiled, “Everyday I find myself impressed on how you’re progressing, it won’t be long until I can’t teach you anything else.”

This should’ve brought comfort to Y/N, but it didn’t. They weren’t ready to let Obi-Wan go, perhaps they had gotten a little too attached.

Y/N quickly wiped their thoughts, they didn’t need Obi-Wan to get suspicious of that. He would be so disappointed, and it would be terrifying if he found out.

“Thank you, Master,” Y/N smiled, while tugging at their braid.

A hand reached out to grab the hand tugging at their braid. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as Obi-Wan’s warm hand pulled their hand away from the braid, his thumb slightly rubbed the back of Y/N’s hand.

Y/N could feel their heart beating fast, as their cheeks flushed once again.

“You’re going to pull your hair out, my dear,” Obi-Wan said softly, his eyes held Y/N’s in an intense stare.

Y/N slightly gulped, “I’ll work on it, Master.”

Obi-Wan released Y/N’s hand before running a hand through his hair, “Well shall we get to bed?”

Y/N nodded quickly, and began to remove their cloak, placing it on the chair next to the bed.

Once Y/N got settled in the bed and was covered up, they spared a glance at their Master. He was grabbing a few spare blankets from the tiny closet next to the front door. Once he got them laid out, he began to remove his cloak, revealing his lean body.

“He’s so handsome,” Y/N thought to themselves, then quickly shook their head, “I shouldn’t be having these thoughts.”

Y/N settled down in their bed pulling blankets even closer to themselves.

“Goodnight Y/N,” Obi-Wan called out, as he settled in his makeshift bed.

“Goodnight.. Obi-Wan,” Y/N cringed as they said that, very rarely did they refer to the Master Jedi by their first name.

Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind.

With a wave of his hand Obi-Wan shut the lights off with the force.

Y/N slowly drifted to sleep.

*few hours later*

The temperature began to drop as time passed, it eventually woke up Y/N, shivering.

Y/N’s teeth chattered slightly as they sat up looking around for the thermostat. When their eyes fell on it, they quickly got up out of bed and made their way to the thermostat the screen was blank.

Y/N glanced over to Obi-Wan, he was still sleeping soundly, his soft breathing brought comfort to themselves. Y/N turned back to the thermostat and tried to kick the heat in, but the screen remained blank.

“Great, it's broken,” Y/N muttered to themselves, as they wrapped their arms around themselves.

“Y/N?” a soft accented voice called out, slightly husky from sleep.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up Master, I was just trying to get heat back in here,” Y/N said, apologetically, with a soft smile.

Y/N walked back to the bed and curled up under the blankets to try and get warmth to go through their body.

Obi-Wan sat up glancing over Y/N, he watched as shivers ran through their body. He wasn’t sure what caused him to act out, but he slowly got up and headed over to the bed.

“Move over,” he softly told Y/N.

Y/N’s head whipped towards him, but moved over as they were told.

Obi-Wan moved in behind Y/N, his body heat radiated against Y/N.

“When we return back to Coruscant we really need to work on you using the force to retain more heat,” Obi-Wan teased lightly.

Y/N giggled slightly, their eyes gleaming in the dark, “I agree, wholeheartedly, with you Master.”

Cautiously Obi-Wan wrapped his arm around Y/N pulling them closer to him. Y/N felt their heart fluttering.

“Master maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” they said, softly, while fiddling with the edge of their pillow.

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan pressed on.

A deep silence fell between them, tension grew slowly.

Finally Y/N sighed, “Master I have feelings for you.”

Obi-Wan remained silent.

“I’m sorry, I’ve tried to get rid of it. I’ve meditated on this many times, but it’s hard.” Y/N felt tears well up in their eyes.

“I know,” Obi-Wan said gently.

Y/N’s eyes widened as they jerked around to face Obi-Wan, “What?”

“My dear, I’ve known for quite some time, after all you’re not always the best at concealing your emotions. I will admit I haven’t these emotions from you for quite some time, so you’ve improved,” he teased, as a smirk settled on his lips.

Y/N felt a blush rest on their cheeks, as their mouth gaped open slightly, “I don’t know what to say.”

Obi-Wan smiled, “I understand.”

“Do you feel the same way?” the question slipped from Y/N’s mouth before they could stop it.

Obi-Wan looked into Y/N’s eyes, “What do your feelings tell you?”

Y/N thought, then nodded slowly.

“Exactly, dear one,” Obi-Wan smiled.

Y/N couldn’t control themselves as they threw themselves at Obi-Wan. They wrapped arms around the Jedi Master tightly, and to their enjoyment, arms wrapped around their body.

Y/N pulled back slightly to look into Obi-Wan’s eyes, and a sense of comfort and happiness fell upon them. They focused only on this moment, they knew things would be different tomorrow, but for now they could settle for this.

The two Jedi slowly drifted to sleep once again, their limbs tangled together, and soft smiles on their faces.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan star wars #padawan reader #star wars #star war prequels #imagines #star wars imagine #Ewan McGregor #Ewan McGregor imagine #obi wan oneshot #obi wan x you #gender neutral #obi-wan x you #obi wan imagine #requests #star wars requests

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black-streak · 4 years

Text

Waiting for the Worms - Another Brick in the Wall

Part 8

Me? Rapidly updating a story for the sake of satiating my own curiosity for how this will continue? It's more likely than you think. Did I spend upward of ten minutes deciding and researching the weapons and blade types used just for one paragraph worth of text? Absolutely.

You know, the mentions of neglect and child abuse and violence is actually kind of light considering. Still very present though.

Closed list that I've been hitting up the last three days: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Training with Talia's personal squadron the day after waking from the pits came as no surprise. Starting up history and world languages classes however, took her a bit off guard.

Marinette was already fluent in french and english from her own volition, and picked up spanish from Jason over time after finding his own fluidity and background with the language. The two had been slowly learning mandarin after her uncle's visit a few years back and Jason insisted they figure it out together with her own heritage being a driving force. She had died before they could become fully conversational.

When Marinette offered this information up to Talia, bypassing the reason she spoke so many languages already and passing it off as Jason's love for knowledge and literature combining, Talia immediately turned her over to two teachers; one to teach mandarin and eventually expand into cantonese and another to focus in on arabic. The second was seen as the priority what with location and its commonality within the complex. Obviously, the league's personal dialect was taught as a subset to these lessons, though it was ensured she knew the differences.

History focused in on Asia, occasionally falling off track into South American and African history, her western knowledge cohesive and complex enough to satisfy Talia, which came as no surprise seeing as though Europe and North America tended to focus only on their own history. She couldn't help but think how jealous Jason would be to know she received extensive free education that wasn't the same rhetoric he'd been hearing since he was five, granted with more reality and detailing as time passed.

They held off on teaching the League history until they felt her world knowledge was comprehensive enough to appreciate the way their personal history tied into it all.

The physical training took up about six hours every day. An hour of stretching, followed by two hours of hand to hand combat, then two hours specializing in weapons, and finally another hour of stretching. Her weapons focus geared towards close combat mostly, with a preference for the F-S fighting knife, a double-edged blade sitting just short of eight inches and a BC-41, essentially a set of brass knuckles with a blade running through the inner palm and extending outwards by a good 5 inches. When maintaining some distance and using more of her martial arts training, she leaned heavily towards a double bladed staff. The experience of twirling a weaponized yoyo for a year made using the staff a comfortable transition.

It took three months before Talia felt comfortable sending her out on a mission with her team. It ended up a bloodbath. They were meant to track down a league member gone rogue, only to find the woman training others. They took out the entire group, Marinette falling to the bloodthirsty voice echoing in her head at all times. By the time she came fully to, dead bodies littered the ground about her. She suppressed herself to the back of her own mind, forcefully disassociating until they arrived back at the underground city three days later, hiding away in her rooms before breaking down. Talia found her in the midst of a panic attack and talked her down, explaining how the pit caused the worst of her to form into a tangent voice in her head, how it took time and practice to tamper it down to the almost nonexistent form it took before her dip. How it wasn't her fault she fell pray to it and the objective had been to take out the target anyways. That the defective leader would've trained that group to come back and take them out. That it would've threatened her life in the complex had she not killed in front of the other assassins. The idea that it all was a form of self defense helped ease her mind, though she vowed to try harder, to take back control from the pit madness that overwhelmed her in that moment.

The week after, she took up meditation in her down time. While the reminder of her mother hurt, the peace and mental fortitude it offered held too high of an appeal to bypass. It helped that it seemed a common practice across the city. Whether to aid others in suppressing their own demons or just for the ritualistic quality, she didn't know, but the practice further blended her into the community, something Talia took great pride in.

By her fifth month living amongst the League, her already decent mandarin had been perfected and they finally focused in on cantonese. Her arabic and league dialect progressed rapidly, but only due to constant exposure. Even one day spent away from the city ended with butchered words and completely horrific pronunciations of even the basics. Due to this, she never spoke outside of her lessons or the confines of her or Talia's rooms. It came as quite the embarrassment when the team had to rely entirely on hand signals during missions she accompanied. Sure, that was the standard anyways, but they all knew the option of speech was impeded by her. Luckily, they were all led to believe her mute instead of simply incompetent.

In her sixth month, she relapsed during a fight again, losing her mind until she locked herself in her rooms once more. It took Talia three days to get her to let the guilt pass once more.

It was around this time, Talia started pointing out specific escape routes and pathways that were blocked off or unknown to most. She started teaching her how to hide from even the assassins. Started to train her in private how to break through the other's defenses, to counteract their own training. They kept it all out of the public eye, where it could make its way back to Ras. Marinette couldn't say what the woman was preparing her for, but she took it all to heart.

It was only a week after this development that she moved to a new training room. It held some of the higher ups within Talia's group and strangely enough, one small child. The kid was barely four feet, but quickly proved extremely adept with a katana. The two never faced each other, but he obviously took note of the newest member within the room.

After a month in the new room, Talia seemed to relax once more, taking pride in Marinette having not relapsed in the passing time and showing no signs of backtracking. The child in the room only seemed to grow more observant as the days passed. It was on one of these days, that Marinette decided to make a move of her own. The head trainer had cut the kid down, the small body splayed on the mat, bruises and cuts littering his body, Talia standing in quiet observation from the corner. Marinette saw the glint of concern hidden within her eyes and reacted instinctively. She took her bladed staff and slipped behind the trainer who stood berating the boy below, laying the side of one sharpened end up on the man's shoulder, blade barely touching his neck, she waited until he turned towards her slowly and tilted her head with a condescending sneer, challenging him without a word spoken.

The man took his focus entirely off the kid, only to be swept off his feet and placed under a sharp blade, the child standing over him now.

"Lesson one, never lose track of the number of enemies in a room," the boy stated, hinting at a snarl.

"Damian," Talia called in a demanding tone.

The boy immediately backed off and allowed the master back onto his feet, his face expressionless beyond a tiny twitch next to his right eye. Both were dismissed for the day.

The next day, the trainer singled Marinette out. Upon his approach, she took up the staff once more. While she preferred her knives, she knew she needed an upperhand in this fight and had too much talent with the easily spun weapon to pass it up. She expected to lose, but refused to go down easily. As he stood before her, she waited patiently, slowly twirling the staff lightly between her fingers, not breaking into any specific stance. Best not to trap herself in a range of motions, but to keep open to move in any direction at a moment's notice. Talia trained her better than to lose for something as simple as having an attack come from a source her stance didn't allow a counter movement for.

Eventually, the man's built up resentment and frustration came through and he struck first.

From there, the fight continued in an almost rhythmic, dance for her, an angry tsunami of movement for him. She was surprised how much the counteractions Talia taught her came in to use. She must have been training her in a parallel to the man before her, wanting her to best him. And with most of the assassins specialized in staffs using non-bladed forms, the easy twirl of twin blades always at him, it gave her a leg up over him. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the others had slowed their motions, watching their battle without fully stopping their own. The kid, Damian, had turned fully to watch, having ended the fight with his current trainer some moments before.

Both her and the trainer had a slew of shallow cuts along flanks when finally, she landed a blow across his face, slashing from above an eyebrow, down the bridge of his nose and down the opposite cheek. With blood dripping into his eye, she managed to disable the man and bring them to a stand still. She might not be able to best Talia or even some of the more uniquely members within the group, but she could take down the lead trainer. The approving look of her own mentor and the curious stare of the young one was enough for her. She left the room with her head held high.

Talia increased her training tenfold afterwards, convinced she could take the workload now. Sent her on a more intensive mission and then promptly benched her, publicly for unknown reasons, privately to increase her lessons with Talia, herself.

At eight months, Damian cautiously approached her. The curiosity had grown and with the obviously protective manner of her challenge to the master, it seemed to ease him towards her.

He glanced at Talia who observed them with a closed off expression and turned back towards her with a determined look.

"So you're her new pet project?"

Marinette rose a single eyebrow in response.

"I'm her son," he growled out, amusing in his tiny, unbroken voice, if not for the accompanying words.

Without outwardly showing it, Marinette quickly processed her surprise, realization striking. Damian was her son. She had shown her how to take down most any enemy, how to escape, how to protect. Talia never showed any outward connection towards the child in front of her, practically ignored him until he stepped out of line. Marinette had seen the concern though. The fear and regret glinting towards the boy in odd moments when nobody was looking. All of the training, the private lessons, all hinting at an eventual escape. Talia wanted her to take Damian out of here. To escape with him. Needed someone unattached, with no connections in the world to hold them back with the right background. Jason just so happened to also hold an emotional connection for her with his past with Bruce reminiscent of her own. Used and forgotten. It was a way of offering a life to her own son while giving Jason a connection of his own when he had nothing else. As far as she knew anyways.

And Marinette couldn't fault her for it. Couldn't see a way to begrudge the woman this. Where would she be otherwise, if maybe a little less murderous? Out on the streets, alone and broken. Lost in the world. She felt gratitude, despite the woman blatantly using her. Somehow she knew that had circumstances been different, if Jason had a life to return to, she'd never have kidnapped her all those months ago.

This all flashed within her mind in a moment, glancing at Talia before refocusing on the kid. She offered a light hum in return. Damian took this as the acceptance it was and went on his way. That was okay, she knew the lack of rebuttal and ease of her demeanor would draw him back soon enough. Looking up, she met Talia's eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod, not imagining the way the woman's eyes lit up.

#jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #WFTW #part 8

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ifridiot · 4 years

Text

Golem!Verse Fic: Just as Good

Tagging @ohnoagremlin, @cajunspoons and @micerhat bc once upon a once upon y’all really liked this plotline.

---

The waiting is the worst part.

Paul is not a patient man, not really. His colleagues are often far worse and, by and large, insufferable when it comes to their sense of importance in creating new life, but if he only wants to stand out among a crowd of swaggering narcissists then he hardly needs to be here.

Synthetic breeding requires a keen mind, this is something he is willing to admit. It isn't something anyone off the street can be hired on to do; it takes more than memorization of timing and doses and formulae, more than the knowledge of code. It takes daring and impulsiveness to create something that will live the long and healthy life it deserves.

It does not, however, take patience. Patience is a lauded virtue, so the folks in this field play at it, and poorly. Many a Sculptor will float from function to function, from lab to lab, across the rooms and down the halls, all while forcefully projecting an air of manufactured tranquility and above-it-all zen.

Paul has no time for that horseshit. He’s a man with work to be done.

In truth, Paul doesn't think Sculpting takes any sense of artistry either. His Synths are plain creatures, and he isn't given over to the ridiculous notion of 'symbolism' behind the markings the law insists are required. Take a Synth's blood, any idiot can find the genetic markers that prove them nonhuman. Even the drive to make a Synth's eyes different from a standard human's is unnecessary, forcible visual segregation.

All a man needs to be any good at this job, Paul believes, is timeliness, and awareness of patterns, and a decent drive. This is true intellect, in his opinion. Biology and gene sculpting are all skills and knowledge pools anyone can bathe themselves in. The innate needs, the ability to manage time well, pay attention to the patterns, and be willing to put in the work, were entirely different, and couldn’t be taught.

Most Synthetics, in Paul's opinion, could be better Sculptors than any hume, including himself.

The project's end takes the biggest toll on Paul's nonexistent patience. There are ways to speed up a growth cycle, though doing that at too high a concentration is provably detrimental to the Synthetic overall. Of course, everyone does it to some extent; they can't very well sit around waiting for twenty-odd years for the fetus to develop.

There are ways to speed through the rest of this too, as well as all that comes after, but again -- the more one races through anything, the sloppier the end result. Paul tries not to do it much, though honestly he is often working with such large batches of Synthetics for his sponsors that his personal Imprinting is negligible. They are imprinted to their Companies or their branch of Service, and once free of the tank, they need little and less from him.

Tonight, he will Midwife his first vanity project.

Shi is a marvel. His tank-initiated Imprinting has been in and of itself a point of pride: a net of fine, flexible mesh rather than the standard shackles. Shi will be the artist Paul never was. Shi will have all his cleverness, all his drive, all his passion -- and none of the pain, none of the paranoia that jitters and scurries through his mind (the product of a faulty Organic brain and years of trauma in the Downs).

The Tank is another marvel. His own design, largely automated in processes that have never had or needed a tender human touch. Shi's Tank has already initiated the birthing process, and Paul, alone in his lab, is impatient.

He paces, he smokes. He has a dwindling supply of tobacco, but tonight he's powering through a bitter Safe Cig as he prowls the lab floor, moving between the tank, the feedback screens, and the console with the controls he needs. There is no false sense of stately calm about him. His colleagues laugh and blame his hot Texan blood. Behind their hands, they whisper their little jokes about their pet Anti-Buddha -- their little Chinese man who always forgets to do his daily meditations.

They're nothing, in the end. Humans are on the last leg of their flawed and rapacious rule of this world. He has a reason to be impatient.

The world is moving on, and he intends to build a better man to walk it in the aftermath of his own sad people.

The hydraulic hiss of the vacuum chambers pulls him from his own hectoring, harried thoughts, snapping his attention to Shi's Tank. The Salve, his own special brew of the stuff, once only as viscous as soapy dish water and now thicker than gravy, nearly gelatinous, exits smoothly; the Tank works perfectly along his design.

In five quick steps, he crosses the room. Most Synths try to breathe before they try to see, but Shi’s eyes are already open. Paul smiles; this is a deviance he approves of.

Impulsive, he opens the slide-front of the tank, and allows the last third of the spent Salve to flood the floor, rushing over his shoes, wetting the hems of his trousers. Shi sags against the cords feeding into his spinal column, then gasps his first ragged breath of natural, unfiltered air as the Tank retracts the needles from his back. The wounds will heal before Paul even gets him to the exam room; freshly born Synths always heal faster than anything.

When Shi staggers forward, Paul catches him. In a stunning display of functionality -- personality too, Paul would dare say, Shi catches his own weight and leans less than half of that weight on Paul, who is a good head and a half shorter than him.

"Can you walk?" Paul asks softly, speaking the language of childhood and holidays, and grins broadly when Shi answers in the same tongue.

"If I may have a moment to breathe," Shi replies in flawless Mandarin, looking around the lab. "I'm experiencing a bit of disorientation."

This is common enough not to be worth worrying about. One can hardly be faulted for being disoriented at their birthing.

"Do you know who you are?"

Shi turns his head, and Paul, for the first time in over a decade of Sculpting and Midwifing, is momentarily awed by his own work. Shi is no more beautiful than any of his other bare bones designs -- he's not an Artist, not in the way his colleagues obsess over being -- but Shi is fundamentally present in a way that Paul has never seen in a new-born Synthetic.

"My name is Shi," he says, head cocking just slightly to the right. "A name with many meanings. In this case, 'Honest'."

Fluid speech. Verbose, even. Everything according to Paul's Imprinting, but in action so much more wonderful than he could ever have imagined.

After a moment, Shi straightens up, lean and powerful. His eyes glint in the low light, pupils wide enough for the effect of the manufactured tapetum lucidum to be noticeable. He's striking, Paul thinks, and that's not pride alone talking.

"And who am I, Shi?" Paul asks, lowering the arm he'd been using to brace Shi.

"You are Pa Carlton," Shi says, and then frowns. It's a frown Paul has seen through the glass and the Salve many times; the frown of Shi processing something. "Pa-ll," he tries again, brows knitting together. "Pa-uhl. Pa-uhl Cartlon."

And Paul, who has never seen himself as a father, and never intended to be anything more personal than a teacher or a fleeting, momentary guide in this creature's long life, finds himself reaching out to take Shi's hand in his own, pressing it between both of his as he smiles. He hopes the tears he feels gathering aren't as noticeable as they feel.

"Pa is fine," he says quietly. "Pa works just as well. Now let's get you to the examination table."

#golem!verse #neoma writes #shi carlton #paul carlton #original fiction

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jedward5ever · 3 years

Text

Jacob and Edward

hey guys. just a little something. Jacob and Edward if you’re into that.

setting: cullen’s house they’re studying or smthn bella hasnt moved in yet

edward: so what did you get for number 5?

Jacob: uhhhhh…..i didnt do it

edward: ok. why?

Jacob: i don't really get this whole math thing...can u explain?

e: oh that’s okay. well first of all this is biology. so in question 5 they’re asking what is the first step of glycolysis, do you know what glycolysis is?

J: uhhhhh i turn into a wolf sometimes

e: *startled, looks away.* uh? ok well glycolysis is basically when glucose is split (glucose is sugar and like……. sweet) and the final product is two pyruvate molecules

J: *turns into a wolf* aaaaawooooooooooooo

e: *slaps him across the wolf face, once then twice* what the FUCK are you doing. you cant do ths in my house and u broke my antique glass table i stole from bulgaria

J: *turns back into a person* sorry bro i do that sometimes when im nervous

e: ………. *lights down spotlight on edward for brief monologue* i… i feel so guilty i slapped him to be or not to be? then i should aboiplogize *lgihts back on*... hey jacob im sorry is lapped u….. why r u nervous’

J: its ok bro…..im nervous bc...no i cant say it...its embarrassing

e: *caresses jacobs’ face where he slapped him* its ok. im sorry. sometimes i let my anger get the better of me

J: its ok ...its just that….i..i….

e: *starts getting mad* speak the fuck up. what are u saying

J: *mumbles something*

e: *starts meditating to calm down* what.

J: i said…..i….l...ll

e: WHAT YOU STUPID MUTT

j:......i….love……

e: what the fuck r u trying to say *flexes his hands ina nger*

J: i love y- *dies of unknown cause*

e: Hi, I’m edward cullen. im trained in first aid. can i help u? *no answer* hello? are you awake? bystander *points to alice* please contact ems adn let them know someone is about to be Turned *bites jacob*

J: *becomes a vampire but also still werewolf* bro……

e: ok. so do you understand glycolysis now?

J: yeah i do thanks bro that helped a lot

e: no problem, now onto question 6. wait. this isn’t a bio question. it says…. no i can’t read this filth

J: what does it say man

e: it… it *face turns red then green then purple* it…. ugh this is disgusting. you read it

J: i didnt want to tell u this bc i thought you would make fun of me but…..i cant read...

e: u fucking illiterate bastard. fine ill read it *clears throat* fuck i didnt copy pzste it hold on

Lmssoaooao dw ok it wont let me but *jacob x edward fanfiction*

LAMOAOAK

J: dude…...thats in the textbook????

e: yeah. its fucking disgusting. how did they know everything about us… actually wait it look s like someone wrote this by hand…

J: thats so weird…..who would have done that….so gross….

e: lemme check whose textbook this is. *flips to front*................................................................. *looks up at jacob with golden orbs and squints his eyes* it says its ur textbook

J: thats c-c-crazy bro ,,,,, i cant even read hahaha how could i write that hahaha

e:....... you fucking liar. yeah u can read. is this seriously how u thin k of me? of us? ur sick in the fucking head. i woulc neve.r;..... never fucking do that with u

J:....is that...is that realy how you feel?

e: *inexplicable rage* obviously u weirdo stupid werewolf dog *starts choking jacob*

J: *actually likes being choked* oh no…..oh no…..don't do this…. e: *notices hes into it* AHRHGHGHHGHGHHG (in rage) *choke slams him into the broken glass table* YOURE SO GROSS

J: *thinks* he will never love me the way i love him...maybe i should just end it all…..

e: *freeze frame…. lights down spotlight on edward again... monoglogu* wait…. what the fuck……… is that smell? i just realized i cannot read his mind? what the fuck is going on…………. *slideshow in the background with informational voice: it turns out that one of jacob’s sperm containing renesemee was i dont know hanging out which was already pyscihologucally connected to bella and stole bella’s power of smelling good and no thoughts then transferred it to jacob making him have those powers* *spotlight end* jacob…….. why the fuck…. cant i read ur mind… why do u smell so good…

J: i didnt know u could read minds….maybe i just don't have thoughts…..

e: everyone has fucking thoughts.l…… but i cant… read urs…

J: i don't know…….has that ever happened before?

e: no… *intense eye contact*

J; *blushes and looks down* im sorry im different

e: *looks away cus jacob looked away, then accidentally looks down* bro… is that….

J: no bro… its not what it looks like!!!

e: *stares at him then throws up to the side* i cant believe this… ur a nasty dog but i cant help but feel….. attracted to u

J: youre...attracted to me……

e: I dnt’ know why……. dont worry i cant get it up i have no blood

J: wait….we cant fuck??? Im out of here *turns to leave*

e: wait. there is a way…… *flashback on the slideshow to when edeawrd drank jacobs blodo to vampirize him this slideshow is viewable by edward and jacob*

J: well tell me,,,how do we fuck?????

e: u tell me

J: i don't know youve been a vampire longer than i have

e: bruh. so????? i follow the christian beliefs

J: stupid idiot we cant fuck then

e: *looks away* i guess. not like i wanted to anyways

J: you know what? I don't have to deal with this *turns to leave* call me when you want some dick

e: *when jacob is more than like 10m away suddenly intense pain hits them both* theres… something i forgot to tell u. when i vampirized u….. iut basically means ur bonded to me for like 1 month….

J: so youre telling me….im stuck with u for a month….and we cant fuck

e: well yeah more or less

the end

BREAKOUT ROOMS ENDED CLASS IS OVER LMAAOAOAOAGood rp bro SUCH A GOOD CLASS i agreed exactly to be continued

LOL EXCELLENT STORY it was honestly amazing great twists and turns, the tensini was high cant wait to see where this goes hope rob enjoys <3

setting: school assembly, principal andrew is doing a presentation on how to stay safe from these mysterious killings….. (vampires and werewolfs)

jacob and edward sit next to each other cus they cant be 10m apart.

e: ugh. u again.

J: stop talking as if this isnt ur fault

e: *whispering* ur the one who fucking died for no reason

J: ok and?? You didnt have to bring me back

e: *roll eyes* u know exactly why i had to

J:.........what do you mean…….

e: *looks at him with golden orbs then looks away* shut up. principal andrew is talking..

J: *is listening to every word andrew says bc he is so amazing but keeps looking at edward*......

e: * is listening and doesn’t notice j acob looking at him, then speaks to jacob without looking at him* look… they’re talking about killings… is this ur fucking tribe’s doing?

J: what the fuck no way its your stupid fucking family we keep our end of the agreement

e: *inhales sharply, then grips jacob’s leg with vampire strengthz* dont u fucking talk about my family like that u stupid mutt *people begin looking in their direction*

J: *is kind of turned on but would never admit it* stop being fucking gay people are staring

e: *notices people are staring and releases jacob, embarrassedly* just shut the fuck up and listen. *andrew begins talking about A CURFEW… they cannot leave their houses or some shit like basically e and j have to be together*

J:wait….how the fuck are we supposed to stay in our houses if we cant be away from each other….im not about to live with your weird incest family…

e: *enraged again, grabs the back of jacob’s neck at the pressure point* what the fuck. did. i say. about. talking. shit. about. my family. take that back right fucking now

J: *smirks* what are you gonna do about it…..be more gay?

e: *even more rage* i am not fucking gay —- cut off by andrew: Edward, Jacob, what the fuck are yall doing? *everyone turns to look, spotlight on them*

J: im sorry mr andrew….its just that edward attacked me…..hes so in love with me and he keeps assaulting me...im not gay though

andrew: oh thank god (he thought they were gay). edward, jacob immediately separate.

J:uhhhhhhhh i think we have to talk though…..sort this out with words…

e: *is extremely embarrassed to have everyones attention on him* Yes sir, andrew. i mean principal andrew. *grabs jacob by the scruff of his neck and drags him to the hallway and then slams him in to the lockers like bullies in the 80s* why the FUCK did u embarass me like that

J: bro you embarrassed urself…..you were all over me….just say youre into me itll be easier for both of us

e: ALL OVER YOU? *slams him again*

J:yeah like ur all ove me right now you cant keep your cold dead hands off of me

e: *moves back as if burned, walking away backwards while also throwing up, but then he is too far and they are both in intense pain*

J: dude calm down lets talk about this shit….we gotta make a plan

e: *refusing to come closer, so still are in pain* …...plan… for … what

J: the fucking…..cerfew…. Idiot…. Come back…..

e: *doesn’t come back, vomits once more* no… u fucking… smell…. what do … u mean…. the curfew…

J: were you not….listening to andrew… we have to stay inside our houses….but how can we do that if we cant be apart from each other

e: *looks away angrily* ….. we… will have to… stay apart… in pain… i guess…

J: you’re so fucking stubborn you did this to me and now youre making me suffer too

e: … i… don’t… care…. *walks even further, causing them more pain*

J: were only like 20m apart….and it already feels like this…..you think we can handle more thN THIs forever???? Youre so fucking stupid

e: *glares at him but doesnt come closer* shut. the … fuck up…. you fucking…. dog…

J: *steps closer* make...me…..

e: *doesn’t see him coming cus eyes are closed* shut…. up… stop… talking…

J: *steps closer* i said…...make….me

a/n: how fucking close are they now huh uhh like 3 ft apart ok

e: *smells jakob cus he stinks and opens eyes* GET AWAY FROM ME

J: make me *smirks*

a/n: LMFAO THANKS i need to formulate a perfect response lemmet hink of course take all the time you need

e: what the fuck do you mean make me? i will launch u across this hallway wolf boy

J: do it then…..

e: *grabs him by the neck again and slings him*

J: *dies*

e: *notices.( a/n: sigh) spotlight… on …. edward… monoglogue: i-........i cant believe i fucking killed him again…. the pain is gone but… literally wtf….. i…. grrr. *edward looks into the distance, pondering. then silently goes to jacob.* i have to save him. *begins cpr and mouth to mouth breathing*

J: *was never actually dead only pretending like romeo and juliet* *smirks*

a/n: I FUCKING KNEW IT LOL

e: *notices the smirk, then realizes he was alive the whole time* what the FUCK jacob? *slaps him across the face* you dirty bastard

a/n KALMASKDAOJDIJDOASOISO

J: so i guess you don't hate me that much huh?

e: *slaps him again* i thought you fucking died. i couldn’t let andrew discover a dead body in the hallway. and. and anyway i was going to eat you afterwards so yeah take that

J: yeah thats so believable…… just say you love me...i wont judge you *gay slur*

e: *is about to rage again* im literally. fucking straight. i love…. va-vgagag gaggaga *starts vomiting* WHAT THE FUCK DO U WANT FROM ME

a/n IM CRYING HAHA

J: dude...its 2020...its ok to be gay...you don't have to pretend to be someone youre not,,,, i aceppt you

e: *once again, he can’t help but be attracted to jacob bc of the science i explained in the previous thing, stares depeply into jacob’s orbs* what… do… you… want… from …. me … u fucking… dog

J: *stares back into edwards orbs* i just….i just want you to be happy…

e: *looks away* i am… happy. away from you.

J: *looks away from edward looking away* if thats really how you feel…...fine...ill take the pain….

e: *once a fucking gain. spotlight. monologue* in all my 118 years…. ive caused so much pain and destruction… should i really put this on poor jacob’ why did i see children see i mean sayy omg on poor jacob’s shoulders. no i cant.* no. no. we can. stay together. *teeth clenched* for. the curse, of course. so. you don’t have pain. not that. i . like u.

a/n TEARS MAN WHY IS EDWARD A TSUNDERE I DONT KNOW

J: fine...for the curse….whatever helps you sleep at night..

e: *touches jacob’s shoulder (only cus theyre so close) and pushes him back* yeah. you can stay at. my house. i guess

a/n: (u have to say no so ed goes to jacobs werewolf hq)

J: no way i cant be around all those incesty vampires its creepy as fuck you come to my place

e: *gasp* what the fuck. youre literally a VAMPIRE too. i…. i dont wanna go to ur place…

J: physically im a vampire but mentally im still a wolf and i will not be around so many dead sister fuckers

e: ….. i don’t wanna be around u stinky werewolves…. Unless….no.

J: what man???

e: *is disgusted firstly, by werewolves, and the way jacob speaks so heterosexually irks him* nothing. can’t we, like. get a hotel room.

J: that might not be a bad idea…..but im poor remember

e: *facepalms then says annoyedly* fine. we’ll go to ur fucking wolf den. but u have to make it up to me.

J: ……...how?

e: *rolls eyes* i don;’t fucking know. u tell me. it better be good cus i will never get that werewolf smell off of me.

J: i mean…...we could like…..if youre down…….

e: *squints at him* what.

J: we could……..you know…. ..

e: *understands, slaps him across the face for millionth time poor jacob probably has permanent hand prints* EW.

J: like i don't want to because im not gay but id do it for you

e: … you know. i used to be able to read ur mind up until a few weeks ago. so i do know what the fuck u thought of me…. what u thought—- *nearly vomits again*

J: but that was a long time ago...before we got close….now you made me straight

e: *extremely offended* what the fuck? you dont think im hot anymore?

J: why does it matter???? Youre not gay right

e: *hits him again* im not FUCKING gay. and it matters. b ecause, because,m because because because bcuae buse bcueacuab euacaubeucae BECAUSE. everyone thinks im hot. and if ur around him[edward] for the next month, u also need tot hink im hot.

a/n wtf is him oh of course a/n: edward is refering tohimself in third person

J: maybe if you were nicer to me id like you more...stop fucking hitting me and vomitting

a/n: lAMFPAOO,FP

e: *looks away in shame, then sighs shakily brings his cold vampirical hands to jacob’s bruised face* look. my hands. are so.. fucking cold they will heal ur bruies *doesnt look him in the eyes*

a/n HYDUHFUIEHWOIHOIDW

J: *doesnt make eye contact* thanks….i guess…

e: *keeps using vampircal cold hands to heal, then they accidentally make eye contact, edward looks away*

J: you don't have to look away…..

e: *glares back at him just to prove a point* fine.

J: *stares into edwards orbs with kindness and love* ……….

e: *stares back and recognizes what jacob is feeling, whispers* ur fucking gay

J: maybe…..but so are you…….

END

BREAKOUT ROOM ENDINGWHY THEY HAVE A COUNTDOWN. OK THIS SCENE ENDS HERE NEXT IS JACOB’S HOUSE ok it was really good today honestly excellent a/n are a perfect edditon except im losing my ability to type and spell we at 3k words BRUH LMOAAOAOA i love us ok bye

dun dun dun dun (tear in my heart). LMAO listening to it oh good u start bruh its ur hosue

setting: jacob’s den thing, also we need to have my immortal descriptions

J: so make yourself at home i guess…..

e: *carrying black bag with mcr pins on it , looks around in disgust* ….. u live like this?

J: yeah man sorry im not rich like you are

e: *is definitely thinking something offensive towards native people but disguised as against werewolves as stephanie meyer always does* ok…. so where am i sleeping..

a/n HUIHBUFOEWGEUI did i lie absolutely not

J;well like……...theres only one bed…

e: *mutters* could this get any more cliche. *notmutter* k. well im definitely not sleeping next to you. mind if i amazon prime a (whatever those fake small bed things are called)

J: if you want but theres not much room,,,,whatever,,,,,,*is disappointed*

e: *ignores jacob, typing on his phone to order the thing*

(Now Jacob’s family comes in I forgot their names but they’re here) billy is dad i think

J: oh hey guys this is edward he has to stay for a bit

Billy: *smells his ugly vampire smell* did you bring one of them….into my home????

edward: *visibly uncomfortable and surrounded by the werewolves, whispers to jacob* what the fuck… i didn’t know your whole pack was gonna be here…

J: *whispers back* this is our headquarters man….i didnt think theyd be so early thought *soeaks to fam* im sorry but a lot has happened….its necessary

a/n: k so im billy now? If u want

billy: *stares at edward for a while, assessing him.*

edward: …

billy: *sniffs him, then decides its ok* well then. if you say so jakey boy *claps edward on the shoulder* no biting ok?

edward: .

J: haha yeah….so were gonna go to my room now…..come on lets go

e: *glad to leave* yeah lets go right now

(The fam watches them go and its so awkward)

(in jacobs room)

J: so that was terrible but we’ll just stay up here as much as possible so that doesnt happen again

e: ugh that was so embarrassing… that was like when i introduced my ex gf to my family…. *realizes what he said* EW , not that WE are like that cus ewww gross *slaps jacob out of embarrassment*

a/n HAHAHAHAHA

J: *uncomfortable bc was slapped but also jealous of ex and sad ed don't like him like that* no man i get it….it happens all the time...cuz i bring so many chicks back here...not that we’re like that…..

e: yeah, obviously. *hand twitches in urge to slap him, but stops himself…. is upset because jacob brings back so many bitches and is jealous. so he goes to face the wall in anger* i need to ….. do./.. my chemistry homework

J: yeah whatever...i gotta do stuff too,,,,,im really busy….*looks down*

e: *is doing the chemistry homework standing up and super fast cus he’s been to high school for over 100 years, mutters* this is so easy ugh

J: why are you even in school anyways like you could be anywhere why do you want to learn the same shit over and over again

e: ………..Well if you woudl really like to know, it’s not the same thing over and over again. the school system has changed a lot since 1918 so it is actually pretty refreshing. i also like seeing how the trends change but are basically the same so yeah i do enjoy going to school, i don’t wanna work everyday because that’s different everyday plus school is easy for me and i get so many bitches cus im sexy.

J: yeah thats cool i guess *mad bc he gets so man bitches* but like if you get so many bitches...where are they???? Why do you hangout with me all the time???

e: *slaps jacob* BECAUSE IF WE ARENT CLOSE TOGETHER WE WILL FUCKING DIE DID YOU FORGET ABOUT THE CURSE OR SOMETHING

J: THE CURSE DOESN’T STOP YOU FROM HAVING BITCHES THO…..ITS ALMOST LIKE UR A FUCKING LIAR

e: *gasps, backhand slap now* OF COURSE I HAVE BITCHES. DID YOU FORGET I CAN READ MINDS. EVEN TEACHERS WANT ME. AND I KNOW THAT YOU DID TOO, AT one ponitn… .gerkgorjgopjfpwjgwprjgpwojgwo *slaps jacob again so he can’t see that edward is blushing*

J: yeah i did like you…….*turns away so edward doesnt see him cry*

e: *not even looking in his direction cause he’s embarrassed* um. ….. *stomach growl*.... oh….

J: oh do you need some fucking blood or something

e: *disgusted that he is being perceived* ugh. im a vegetarian, so i need to…. go hunting… probably

(but they on sacred land or smthn)

J: first of all thats not what vegetarian means idiot and second of all you cant fucking hunt here its sacred and so are all the animals that live here….so now what???

e: *rolls eyes and is for sure thinking racist things* ugh. lemme call alice maybe she can bring me some stored blood… *calls but there’s no service* what the FUCK…. i hate this place… lemme amazon prime some blood…

J: oh sorry you cant ubereats your fucking blood...and youre so addicted to your phone...maybe try living in the moment lke the rest of the world

e: *zones out for a second at the mention of ike aka the character someone in kelvin yo’s story plays in super smash bros, then jolts back to reality* i am living in the moment. you know whats happening in this moment? im fucking hungry bruh and i need blood. so u better get me some before i fucking start feeding and then ur dads gonna be mad

J: you. Cant. feed. Here. why is that so hard to understand….lets just fucking leave and you can go hunt or whatever

e: *eyes flash with anger and turn whatever the colour is when they are hungry* im. hungry. NOW. *starts doing whatever hungry vampires do like intense breathing*

J: dude…..calm down….*nervous*....we’ll get you some blood or whatever *backs into a wall*

e: don’t tell me to fucking calm down *supa hungry rn, then attacks jacob by slamming him OUT of the wall, yeah u read that right, the wall is broken now how sad* GIMME BLOODDDDDD *edward tries to bite jacob*

J: BRUH U BROKE MY FUKING HOUSE…..AND I DON'T HAVE BLOOD IM A FUCKING VAMPIRE TOO REMEBER??????? I CANT HELP U

e: *too hangry to hear him, bites into jacob’s neck with his fangs. out of his neck comes this disgusting sloshy black thing cus he no have blood* UGH WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS YOU TASTE DISGUSTING *spits it out onto the grass, then sees its black and calms down* waht the fuck………… *looks at broken wlal* huh….

J: oh are you back now???? Yeah i don't have fucking blood and you tried to kill me and my house….what the fuck man it always comes down to you killing me….i don't think i can do this anymore……

e: …….look. it’s not my fault. honestly you’re exaggerating things. i was hungry. i can’t help it and you should have known better than to be around me. and im still hungry. so.

J: wow so we’re victim blaming now????? No man i said i cant do this…..you never think about me

e: *rolls eyes uncomfortably, then notices jacob’s neck is still bleeding* well. im not. victim blaming. but. you’re still. bleeding. so my vampircal saliva is actually. healing . u.m . proertries. so umeme asmdaosmdsomaodmw. let. me . help . uoi. iok omo kok

a/n you ok man? i told u im losing brain cels

J: how can i trust you????? Everytime i trust you i die…….

e: *rolls eyes and then puts his hand on jacob’s face (like his face not the side of it)* just let . me . do my. fucking job *licks him*

J: *flinches but gives in* youre so fucking gay...if you wanted to makeout you could have jjust said so...i would have said no tho

e: *slams jacob’s head into the ground so powerfully that there is a jacob shaped crater in the ground* IM FUCKING HEALING YOU. *the bite mark has healed, slams jacob into the ground again* YOU STUPID FUCK IM NOT GAY

J: *dies*

e: *mad, spits on the ground next to jacob* i know ur not fucking dead. ur a vampire and a werewolf for fucks sake. get up.

J: *still dead*

e: you can’t just use the dead card everytime u want me to be nice to you. cause i wont. i literally wont.

J: *just a fucking corpse*

e: *stares at his dead body for a bit.* jacob. get the fuck up.

J: *not alive*

e: *hears billy’s wheelchair coming up* spotlight monolgoeu: well fuck. i can’t let him see i just killed his son for the third time. fuckfuckfuck what can i do i don’t have time to hide the body so… so ….. ok well hes a corpse and im a corpse too so this won’t be that weird

BREAKOUT ROOM ENDNEDINDENIEI TO BE CONTINUED YEAH RIGHTAHHAHAHHA JUST GETTING TO THE GOOD PART HOW EXCITING FOR TOMROW YES I CANNOT WAIT

*continuing edward monologue*

e: yeah … its totally not weird…. its cause i because because because because because because because because i need a cover thats why im doing totally not gay *kisses jacob*

(billy comes out from behind the house)

J: *obviously wasnt dead, wakes up, kisses edward back* oh hey dad

Billy: *supportive of his gay son* hey i thought i heard a fight *looks up* what the fuck happened to the wall

e: *sees jacob isn’t dead anymore, thinks that his kiss brought him back to life like in snow white, shocked* …….hhhh…….. wall?

J: sorry i don't know how that happened shits crazy ya know

Billy: *nods wisely* i do know…...well you boys have fun *leaves*

e: *stares at jacob in shock* …..do you….. remember… what happened before u died?

J: *does but wants to fuck with edward* wh….what? i…...i...d..died??????

e: *rolls eyes* yeah u fucking did. i brought u back though.

J: how…..???

e: ugh *hits him* obviously i just bit you to … bring u back.. to life….

J: so im already a vampire…...but now youve made me a double vampire??? Or does it cancel out and im human????

e: i dont fucking know. i— *remembers the curse and hopes jacob does not bring it up because the curse should double since jacob is double vampire* but don’t worry about the curse. obviosuyl .

J: oh does it double now that im a double vampire???

e: NO. and anyways. im still fucking hungry. so. be a good host and get me some mf food

J: yeah just let me check my fridge for some fucking blood…...idiot…..lets go somewhere so u can be a fake vegetarian

e: hmph. well let’s see if u can keep up. *runs away at vampire speed into the woods*

J: *turns into wolf and uses wolf and vampire speed and follows* awoooooooo

(the curse not acting up meaning theyre within 20m of each other)

e: *looks behind and sees jacob can keep up* slowpoke

ROB ENTERED MY CHAT YA SAME LOL ANYWAYS

J: who tf u callin slow *runs so fast that he almost next to edward*

e: *getting tired cus he is low on blood therefore energy* grrrrrrr

J: look we’re off sacred ground now go catch a deer or something

e: . im tired. u get something for me.

J: so now im ur personal chef?????? No get ur own shit

e: ive killed u three times already. dont make it a fourth.

J: *mumbles* whatever *leaves and smirks knowing he only actually died once* *gets a fucking deer or some

BREAKOUT ENDED????????? Ing WTF WHY WHO CARES LETS CONTINUE BRUH WHAT IS GOING ON DID U HEAR ERIC AND TINA THAT WAS SO AWKWARD I HATE THIS CLASS SO MUCH LILY LTIERALY WHAT BURH i do npt ccare at all

k anyways continue

J; here take this eat up

a/n: god i forgot how fucking ugky tina’s voice is fucking right

e: *bites into the deer, drinking the blood and makes direct eye contact w jacob* nomnomnom

J: feel better now?

e: *disgusted and spits blood at jacob’s feet* nomnomnomnom

J: *looks away cuz this is gross* the shit i do for u……

e: *slurps disgustingly* nomnomnom nom nOMnomON griwjodk

a/n wait lets hope we together obviously no omfg these bitches are talking im not speaking to u im puttig yall on mute good

J: *vomits cuz the noises r gross* could u be a little more quiet?????

e: *puts down the deer* dont fucking vomit in front of me and my food

J: your food is so much more disgusting than my vomit

e: then don’t look at me. *keeps drinking*

J: *rolls eyes*......

e: nomnomnomnom… *puts down again* i said dont fucking look at me.

J: *says nothing but keeps looking*

e: *slurp* u want some then?

J: absolutely not

e: *rolls eyes* i know ur a carnivore, come here

J: nah i don't want that shit youve fuccking destroyed it its disgusting

e: *the deer isnt destroyed like literally one puncture, but edward gets mad at the accusation, so he rips off the backlegs of the deer* i know u want some *throws the legs at jacob*

(catch it with ur mouth PLS Like a wolf)

a/n LMAO like throw drink but then u swallow it all dark blue hell post YES

J: *catches it with his mouth perfectly while making intense eye contact* …..

e: fucking mutt…. *goes back to drinking the blood* nomnomnomnomnom

J: *eats deer leg like it chicken wing* this shit isnt even good….

e: ur the one who hunted it.

J: whatever tommorow we going to mcdicks

e: what the fucks a mcdicks

J: bro…….youve never had a shit burger……..

e: why would i eat shit … in a burger…

J: of course your small mind could never understand….ugh

e: *spits blood in a perfect arch that lands right on jacobs shirt* dont call me small minded ever again

J: dude what the fuck…..and ill call u what i want

e: *finished drinking* no the fuck u won’t. *gestures to deer* u gonna eat my leftovers or what

J: i will not...and what the fuck r u gonna do about it???

e: do about what

J: me calling you small minded idiot

e: *slaps him* shut the fuck up

J: *turns the tables and slaps edward* it doesnt feel so good huh???

a’=./n: HAHAHAHHA

e: *holds his face in shock* WHHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT????????????? MY VAMPIRE HAND DOESNT HURT AS MUCH U FUCKING IDIOT

J: yeah ok but i slapped you once and youve slapped me at least a billion times so it adds up….funny how you can give it but not take it….weak…

e: *thinks about how he could say a few things about that last phrase but doesn’t* i’ve literally killed u so many fucking times *raises fist* i will do it again…..

J: *steps closer* do it then

e: why… the fuck … do you ALWAYS provoke me… kNOWING you will die? *pushes him back*

J: because i know you need an excuse to make out with me every once and awhile *smirks*

e: *gasp* WHAT THE FUFK? HOW DID U KNOW THAT *HITS HIM IN THE FACE*

J: bro you didnt think i was actually dead did you…...i thought you would have known better by now *still smirking*

e: *speechless and wishes he could use his mindpowers on jacob but it doesnt work* ………..

J: yeah so maybe you should try being nicer

e: absolutely not. once this month is over im moving to korea

BREAKOUT ROMM ENDINGNOOOOOOOO AKWAYDS WHEN IT GETS GOOD I KNOW RIGHT UGH ITS OK BUT YEAH THERE NEEDS TO BE AN EMOTIAONL CONNECTION SOON BEFOREMARRIAGE OH OF COURSE I CANT WAIT WE WILL WORK MORE TMRW NO SATUDAY MONDAY WOOOOWOOOO I THINK WE SHOULD MAKE A FILM OF THIS YESSSSSSS MONDAY OK HAHAHA

e: *continued* and im never speaking to u again.

J: yeah right you always say that shit…..but then you come crawling back

e: *rolls eyes* i’ve literally never done that. ur schizophrenia’s acting up because weve never had any fucking relationship before this……. i DONT LIKE YOU

J: uh huh but you always bring me back to life and make out with my corpse so what does that mean???

e: first of all, WE ARE BOTH CORPSES. so its not weird. second, i dont wanna get in trouble for killing a werewolf. so thats that. *turns away and starts walking back to the house but its the wrong direction*

J: yeah thats a likely story…….you know thats not the way home right…*smirks*

e: obviously ….. i was tricking u….. *goes the other way*

J: *rolls eyes and still smirks* so what do you wanna do when we get home

e: nothing *hes still going the wrong way but this time a different wrong*

J: well whatever….how long are you planning on going the wrong way before you ask me for help?

e: buddy.. this is the right way *shows map on phone*

(............ how can this be??????? ARE THEY IN a diffeernte realm)

a/n LMSOAAIOOAAO faerie realm

J: no i swear……..it……*turns in a circle confused* we definitely came from………

e: so what the fucks going on? is this one of ur stupid pranks bc ur native or whatever

J: can you stop being racist for two seconds this is weird….whatever maybe i messed up….lets just follow your phone…

(they follow the directions on the phone but they find that theyre just going in circles eneding up back to the dead dear…. a strange mist is rising*

e: uh…………….. what the fucks going on……….

J: uhhhhhh…….this has never happened before…...what the fuck do we do,....

e: wait. do u hear that……..

(from in the mist they hear something coming……………. its this really hot woman coming out, her name……. bella swan)

bella: …… *in sexy voice* hello boys

a/n GYDSUFGEYORGFBOREW

J: uh…..who the fuck are you….

b: *tosses her head back and laughs, long luscious dark locks of dark of hair of brown falling behind her, then opens her blue? brown? idk her orb colour and stares at them…. she notices edward’s extremely strong gay aura so doesnt go to him. looks at jacob* im bella. bella swan…. youre in my swamp….

J: ok…...but we’re lost...so could you help us out….?

e: *uncomfotable.*

bela: hahhahahah… of course…. *walks up to jacob and touches his face* but the thing is….. humans who come into my territory….. must …… how tf do i say this….. they need to gift me something…. or else u are cursed to work as my servant forever.

J: well we’re not human...hes a vampire and im half werewolf half double vampire…..so that wont apply to us right??

b: *gasps*..... HAHAHAHAHAHHA…… you truly don’t know who i am? bella swan (shes part swan ig) collects HALF WEREWOLF HALF DOUBLE VAMPIRE boys……. jacob….. *licks lips* you will be my prize

e: hhhhhhhhhh

J: so like….if i fuck you….can you tell us how to get home??

bella: *slaps him across the face in the same way that edward does* FUCK ME? hahahahha you’re fucking stupid. i knew it. all of u are. i don’t want u like that buddy, i need to use ur dna to make skins. *grabs him and tries to bring him into the mist*

e: wait…. u can’t

bella: y?

e: um……. bc….

J: *is kind of turned on bc bella slapped him like edward and pavlovs dogs ya know* ……….

e: *was about to say to bella that she cant take jacob, but then realizes he has no say in what jacob can or can’t do…. plus… jacob looks really happy with bella….. but still…. he can’t just let jacob get fucking killed again… even if he’s into it* um. bella. maybe? um u could take me as well?

b: no ur fucking gay i don’t want u. jacob wants to come w me , right jakey? (how does she know his name?)

J: *dream like* yeah…….wait…...did i tell you my name?

bella: *eyes widening in delight* NOOOOOO YOU DIDNT!!!!! LUCKY GUESS!!!!! NOW THAT I KNOW UR NAME……. *turns to edward* u know what happens when fairies know ur name right? *smirks* e

e: *also kind of into that smirk bc pavlovian response* wait… no… JACOB U IDIOT

bella: i feel some homosexual tension between yall …. how about this *curses jacob so that he is like idk evil and will kill edward so then bella wont have to fight him and then can kill jacob le8ter*

J: *eyes rolll back into head like tik tok boy* *lunges at edward* ……

(famous last words by mcr starts playing straight from bella’s mouth for some background music) a/n YESSSSSS

e: *dodges jacob* JACOB. STOP SNAP OUT OF IT

J: …………*jumps at edward again*

e: *barely dodges his snapping jaws*

(in the background …….but can I SPEAK is it hard understanding…….. im incompletel)

e: BNELLA STOP PLEASEEEE

J: *keeps jumping at edward with impossible amounts of force and energy* ……

(a love that’s so demanding…………. IEIODAIOJEWIOADJIOA WHWYY cann ii get WEAKK!!!! I AM NOT AFRAID OFtikwpoerkwopk)

e: *doesn’t want to use force to stop jaconn, but he’s forced to* jacob *does the thing whjere girls try to stop the guy from fighting* jacob its me! stop!!!!!!!!

bella: omg so cringe stop pls

J: *stops for a second but then goes back to fighting* ……

(awake and unafraid asleep)

e: *gets scratched by his werewolf claws, stares at the blood then gets mad* JACOB U STUPID FUCKING MUTT LOOK WHAT U DID TO MY PERFECT SKIN *restrains him with both arms*

J: *when yelled at fully stops but then shakes head and goes back to rage* …..

b: *notices that jacob stopped* omg… wtf *curses him stronger*

e: AHHHHHHHHHHHH

(the song is now… hmmm….. u decide… nanananananaanana LOL ok)

J: *goes at edward so hard knocks him over*........

e: hmmmm,...... jacob i don’t wanna fight u STOP

(na na na na so many security sto every enemy)

J: *stops for half a second blink and youll miss it but then goes back with even more anger*..

e: *thinking: wtf i do’? i cant fight bella to stop him cus then itll be 2 v 1 ./../….///.. .wait…. * *remmebres jacob;’s expression when bella slapped him,..... what if i…. what if* (jacob comes at him again but edward waits UNTIL he is close enough adn then slaps him across the face extremely hard that like he slams into a tree behind him* U STUPID FUCKING DOG

j: *slides down tree and colapses on the ground….almost unconsiodusio* …….e…..edward….

(na na na is over and fades slowly bc bella closes her mouth)

b: waht the fucking fukc did u fucking do u stupid sparkly gay boy????///// THAT WAS MY NEXT SKIN

e: *ignores her and goes to jacob* jacob…… r u ok…

J: *opens eyes slowly* ye….yeah…..i *inhales sharply bc pain or smth* im good…..

e: *checks him for wounds*

bella: *comes up behind edward and grabs him by the head then yeets him backwards* I SAID THATS MY SKIN STAY AWAY FROM him

J: EDWARD *tries to get up to fight her but stumbles*

b: stay down. that’s an order u dog

e: *comes back running* NYAHHHHHHHH

(bela and edward engage in a super epic battle u can imagine it however u want ok…..)

J: ………..

(they r far away enough that jacob can’t hear them….)

b: bro why r u fighting so hard to save ur friend or is that even a friend

e: *blushes* bro not right now

b: no seriously

e: …..

b: *thinking oh….* ew so yall r like that?

e: ….

b: *sigh* fine… u can have him… but under one condition

(what is this condition lemme think)

b: welcome to paradise…. dun dun dun dundu ndund a gunshot rings at the station………… ok i found it: u owe me ur firstborn child

e: ok (?)

(that’s how bella gets renesmee u decide how that happens)

e: *goes back to jacob* helo

J: are you ok…….what went down??????

e: nothing we totally didnt like f u ck or anything wtf why would u even ask that

J: *thinks wtf did they fuck….get kinda jealoudssss* oh…...so can we leave??

(the mist rises)

e: ok…. can you even walk?

J: yeah im fine *tries to stand but winces and leans against tree*

e: *is worried, but rolls eyes anyway* le,me call an uber

BREKAOUT ROOOM OVER NONOOOOOOOO ITS OK WE FINISHED THIS ARC TODAY WAS SO GOOD ABSOLUTELY BRILLAITN AS USUAL WE ARE AT 840 PERIODS LMAOAAAOOOO GOOD UGH HOW AMAZING IM EXCITED TO REREAD IT TOMOROW YESSS ME FUCKING TOO GAHAHAH

a/n Are they waiting for the uber or at home alreafy? first of all, use a/n, second up to u

(jacobs room)

J: ok im fine stop worrying

(the whole werewolf clan is surrounding jacob who is lying on his bed, edward is standing facing the corner awkwardly and covering his nose)

biylly: No son. you were attacked by some fucking fairyand i dont mean him *points to edward* like this is serious shit…. we should call a doctor… but who….

e: *quietly*……. i know… a doctor

a/n laksaodjjefiureyueryhu

J: who…….

e: *turns to face the gang, wich includes seth who i thnk is sexy* um……. carlisle…

J: wait your dad….leader of your incest clan….went to med school???

e: *hand twitches wanting to slap him, but can’t do so in front of his family, so restrains himself* ahem. yes. and we’re not an incest clan.

Billy: i aint bringing you to no vampire doctor we have to find someone else

J: no…..its ok…..i don't even need a doctor….

seth: *is a niner* dude… ur not even okl…. (what were his injuries again?) ur like body is like broken in multiple places…. but. *glares at edward* we can’t have more of Them in here……

e: *rolls eyes at seth* so what the fuck do u propose we do huh niner

seth: ……………… well if u really wanna know, i took grade 9 biology and also first aid….. i’m basically a doctor

a/n i really forget what happened to jacob but lets pretend hes basically dying (when isnt he)

J: uh no thanks seth…..really guys im ok….ive had worse….at least im alive…….

e: *still wants to slap him so bad but cant so instead slaps himself*

billy: wtf… *back to jacob* listen son. ur literally fukcing dying *gets emotional now* ….. we need to do something… *looks at seth* son… *(seth isn’t his son?) will u treat him?

seth: *smirks* ya of course billy…. *turns to jacob* listen ….. we can’t have u dying here…. us alphas need to look out for each other.

J; uhhhhhhhhh well like im kind of more beta…….but…...are you sure you know what youre doing????

billy: JACOB (does he have a middle name) BLACK NEVER CALL URSELF A BETA EVER A FUCKING GAIN THE BLAHJBLAHBLAH TRIBE HAS BLAHDDBASBDOISDHIAOSJDIASJAJ …..

seth: yea h jacob ur definitely an a**a wtf ok . so first i need to see ur injuries…. where r u hurt?

J: basically everywhere…..she kind of fucked me up….but its cool

e: *still doesn’t know what to do so goes back to facing the wall*

seth: okay well… im gonna need u to like… ahem…. u know…. .disrobe…

J: oh...yeahok….*glances at edward who is still facing the wall**starts to take off shirt revealing 12 pack abs*

a;/n: lMFAO

(collective gasp as they see jacob’s injuries)

e: *begins slamming his head into the wall*

billy: oh my god son. …… this is horrible

seth: alright uhhhhhhhh *is overwhelmed* um …. ,... well u have… um …. ur bleeding… and ur ribs are briken… so i gusss…… polysporin? edward can u pass it to me

e: *still staring at the wall* no

J: dude why are you always so difficult….plus after seth heals me hes gonna have to check you for a concussionos…..wtf r u doing????

e: *rolls eyes and turns around, but hes hit his head on the wall so hard that blood is dripping from his head into his eyes, blinding him (da blood from da dear ofc* he doesn’t need to fucking heal me. and i’ll get the polysporin. where is it?

J: in the bathroom i think…...down the hall to the left…

e: *goes to get it, blindly obviously and yeah he got it* *hands the polysporin to who he thinks is seth but he can’t actually see who he’s handing it to*

J: man are you ok??? Like maybe sit down for a bit…...thats not seth thats my dad

e: *angirly moves so hes handing it to seth, but in the process slaps seth in the face maybe not so accidentlly*

s: OH my fucking GOd *mutters* i fucking hate vampires stupid fucks *begins putting polysporin on jacob*

J: uhhhhh is this gonna work…..like my ribs are broken...maybe we should call edwards dad….*looks down knowing they gonna be mad at the idea*

e: *has reverted to sitting in the corner staring at the wall blindly so not actually staring ig*

billy: shut the fuck up jacob. seth is doing an awesome job. looks better already kid

seth: *smirks, looking in edward’s direction* yeah im doing awesome

J: but like…….whatever….if youre done leave edward and i alone for a second…

seth: *finishes bandagnig jacob up* ok. .. but if u need anything… .anythng,... just call ok buddy?

billy: *leaves*

J: so i think i need a real doctor now

s: no u don’t im all u need *leaves*

J: i definitely need a real doctor now…..can you call your dad?

e: he’s not my dad…. and i cant.

J: bruh why not u said u would earlier

e: *can’t really remember due to insane brain damage* uh…… well he’s in italy now. so . ……….. i mean… yeah.

J: dude come here let me see your head

e: no

J: not in a gay way in a im actually worried about your health way

e: *doesn’t actually know where he is in the room bc he refuses to wipe the blood from his eyes* um………………. fine….. *starts walking then trips on jacob’s textbook* wtf….

J: come here sit down *reaches over and grabs his arm guiding him to the bed* here dumbass *wipes blood away from his eyes* does it hurt really bad??

e: *flatly* im a vampire . nothing hurts me. *looks at his bandagings * what the fuck did he do. *rolls eyes* this is unacceptable… *under his breath* stupid dumb fucking niner idiot who fcuckgirn ais trying to one up me i kwjeoijfdoijdeow grrr

J: sorry i didnt hear that last part whats up?

e: oh my god just stfu and *tyler tehecreator voice* elt me do what i need to fucking do *violently rips his bandages off* lemme do it properly because carlisle is in….. china… like i siad

J: uh you said he was in like france or something...also this fucking hurts can you stop being so angry???

e: *no reply. begins piecing his ribs back together w surgical tools he pulled from his pocket* dont move

J: yeah whatever…...why do you have all this shit….nerd…

e: *bc jacob’s ribs were literally sepeareted from what is it called in the centre of the ribs forgot, but his heart is exposed* stfu…. why is ur heart still beating……. *grabs his beating heart*

J: bro what the fuck….don't do that whats wrong with you….maybe bc im still half werewolf???? idk…

e: *eyes change colour….. he goes very still*

(they are both covered in jacob;s blood)

J: uhhhhhhhh edward…..youre scaring me man…...maybe you should go...or just say something please…

e: * eyes r still that whatever colour, but goes back to work silently, and releases the heart* ………………………….. *finishes and starts sewing the skin back up, then looks jacob in the eyes* u rlly should stop begging me bruh,........ it onlymakes me hungrier

J: oh uuhhhhhh sorry????

e: *bandages are finished, assess his work….* ugh finally ur better…… *slaps him* ive been waiting to do that

J: dude wtf…..why are you like this

e: ………….. well i need to do my english project if u don’t mind *goes to face the wall and closes his eyes*..... ……… …

J: you know you can like sit down right…..you don't have to stand t=in the corner

e: *sighs audibly then moves backwards with his eyes still closed and sits on the corner of jacob’s bed but he’s basically just hovering over it*

J: youre so fucking dramatic….youre stuck with me for like two weeks or something so you should probably get used to being around me

e: *opens his eyes and glares at jacob* it’s one month first of all. and i don’t want to get used to you. you fucking stink and ur covered in blood.

J: *smirks* i thouht you liked blood...and you smell like shit too you know

BREAKOUIT ROROM ENDINGUIRNGTRIGNT NOOOOOOOOOOO FUCK UAK WHATS COMING NEXT EW IT WAS ME AND ROB FOR A SECOND EW OMG BRO WE BE WRITING 1K WORDS PER DAY BRUHHHHH OUR FIUCKING POWER ITS SO AMAZING

e: *smells himself* no i dont’ smell like i shit

J: *smirks* you do to me...ugly vampire smell

e: you really should respect me more…. im the one who fixed ur fucking ribs not like seth who used fucking POLYSPORIN

J: its ok….you don't need to be jealous of seth…..i don't like him like that

e: what the fuck>>??? im not jealous of him i literally never said that…… isn’t he ur fucking brother?

a/n hes not lmao edward doesn tknow that

J: wtf????? U thot he was my brother???? Not all native american werewolves are related asshole

e: yall arent….. then why tf are yall in the same tribe huh riddle me that

J: i……...we….how do you think tribes work?????

e: u tell me

a/n I GOT JUMPSCARED BY ROBS VOICE SO HARD LMAO LOL CAN HE STFU IDC AT ALL ME TOO YALL SHUT UP i straight up dont care this sucksnot interested in yalls feedback for us stfu with the “no one is left out” GUESS WHAT U WILL BE LEFT OUT IN LIFE THATS HOW IT IS ESPECIALLY IF UR FUCKING UGLY LIKE SOME OF YALL stfu with math bulshit 6 is divided by 4 simply will it to be TINA STFU LOL YES HAHAHA we will excluse ourselves “andie doesnt count” how dare u sigh there is no feedback they could possibly give us LMAO RIGHT ugh fuck this and i don't need yall yall can be a group if u wanna we always do anyways yall back to work stfu

J: we….just like hangout…...we aren’t related…….at all……

e: ……….oh……………………………………. well i had no idea thats how tribes work

J: you could have just asked…..

e: *doesn’t reply and goes back to work on his english project*

J: *rolls eyes* youre so fucking lame can u not be a nerd for 5 minutes???

e: *throws pencil like a dart and it sticks in jacobs forehead* LITERALLY WTF DO U WANT ME TO DO HUH. I DONT WANNA FUCKING BE HERE. BUT WE CANT GO OUTSIDE CUS ITS NIGHT (flashbacK: andrew’s curfew for who fucking knows why)

J: *dies*

e: *rolls eyes* i literally know ur not dead cus the curse is still on

J: *still dead*

e: *sighs* ……. * thinks about fall out boy specifically how whats his name never eununciates anything* helloooooooooooooo wake tf up ugly

J: *dead*

e: this aint a scene its a godamn ahms rahce , like why does he say it like that

J: idk man but its a banger tho

e: disagree its so fcuking annoinyg. ahms rahce ahms ahms and like when he says down he doesnt even say down its like dawhhhh

J: i mean yeah but its a classic….and his voice….iconic….

e: *shrugs* yeah ur right…. you know………………. back in the 60s i used to be in a band…

J: oh shit deadasss? Were yall any good????

e: *slaps his uninjured leg* obvioisl;y we were fucking good…. we were really popular too…. *sigh* i had so many bitches

J: *mad kind of bc bitches* well if u were so popular would i know any of your songs??? What was the band called???

e: ……….well ….. *pulls out guitar and drum kit and like every instrument and begins playing them* it goes alittle like this….. here comes the sun dododododood here comes the sun … .

a/n IM CRYING

J: wtf that shits sucks….ive literally never heard that before

e: *rolls eyes* obviously it sucks now , but back in the segragation days,,,,,,, this shit was spectuacualr.. ….. and btw, this is the BEATLES … which by the way,,,,,, i was in

J: wtf i have never heard of yall….u named ur band after a bug thats so weird…..ur shit is trash man

e: *slaps him but this time on the face* shtut he fuck up and stop talking shit about my band… ive literally never seen u do anything of worth in ur what…. how fucking old are u,.... like 16 years of life

J: i get so many bitches u would not believe

e: *rolsl eyes* LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL……. u know i can read everyone’s minds right? everyone and i mean everyone wants me at school….. like no one is thinking about u

J: *angry* maybe thats true but they only want u bc they think ur hot….if they actually got to know u no one and i mean no one would ever even look at you….youre disgusting and terrible and honestly not even that hot up close

e: *rolls eyes* listen old sport =..... when ur my age…. and also immortal… and sexy….. relationships with humans dont fucking matter. i dont need them to like me, cus guess what ? they re gonna fucking die anyways or ill proabbly eat them… they just need to think im hot. and by the way, i am fucking hot up close….. *tilts his head to remind jacob of their first talking or whatever encounter at edward’s house…….*

J: *angerily silent*.......

e: *starts laughing* like…….. i didnt even do anything and u were like….. .ahahahhahahahahhahahah

J; *still silent* …………………….

(momentarily silence, until edward notices his hands are still really bloody… )

e: *to himself* ugh…. this is gross……. *starts licking the blood off his hands* mmmmm

J: *makes disgusted face but still doesnt say anything*........

e: *finishes cleaning his hands and wipes it on jacob’s sheets* hmmm….. *checks phone* holy shit my amazon order is here…..

J: *mumbles* go get it then……

e: *goes to the downstairs or whatever and it should be ok bc its within like 20m but as soon as he gets to jacob’s door they both feel intense pain* wtf……… im not….. even…… 20m…. away …. from u ….

J: …...stupid….double….vampire...shit…..

e: ….. *comes closer to esase the pain* ugh…. im so…. fukcing… mad… u sfuckign idit…… *punches hole in jacob’s wall.* …. ok u need to come with me downstairs so i can get my package

J: i literally cant fucking walk selfish idiot

e: grrr.r…… i need…. my mf.../.. amazon prime bed thing……… fine…. *throws jacob over his shoulder* u dont need to walk

J: ahhhh wtf...ur so fucking weird...this is gay man

e: its literally not so stfu *goes downstairs to get his package*

(billy and other wolf members: :|

J: what the fuck is wrong with u u could have gotten someone to bring it p for u wtf

e: *rolls eyes and bends to get the package* …. i have amazon prime^2,,,,,, the package will explode if it doesnt recognize my fingerprint *scans his fingerprint* and my eyeball *scans eyeball and gets package to go upstairs*

J: i hate rich people so fucking much what is wrong with you

e: *throws jacob back onto his bed and rips open the package with his vampire teeth* fuckign finally

J: ok can we get some fucking sleep now???? This day has been way too much

e: *looks him up and down* yeah for u maybe…. vampires dont even need sleep *sets up bed, its literally huge and takes up most of jacobs room*

J: THEN WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU NEED A BED FOR THEN?????????

e: *slaps him* stop fuckign questioning me…. i need it to relax in…. and watch tik toks…

J: what the fuck….you know what i don't care…..good fucking night….

e: *doesn’t reply and gets settled in his huge bed and opens tik tok and watches them at high volume no headphones*

J: BRUH CAN U GET SOME FUCKING HEADPHONES WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU e: *looks up to jacob across the room* i forgot them at home… holdup lkemme amazon prime some new ones

J: bruhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh just like turn the volume down

e: *exhales through nose at a funny tiktok and doesn’t hear jacob*

J: what. the . fuck. *puts pillow over head and tried to sleep*

e: *is now standing on his bed attempting to learn a tik tok dance but hes super tall so his head keeps slamming against the ceiling* renegade rengage

BREAKOUT ROROMRM ENDEIDN STOP NMITERUPTTING MY FUCKING SETENCE I KNOW LOL DID BUT THATS SO FUCKING FUNNYnegade reennegadge

Sorry bro ok bye

(now is morning)

e: *been watching tik toks all night long*

J: *has not slept at all* bruhhhhhhhhhh

e: *has learned every dance possible, now is 2nd after charli damelio in popularity* stfu im working

J: i cant do this…….we need to figure something else out…….

e: *puts his phone downe for the first time in hours* *sighs* …….. jacob,.... u need to understand this…… *sad music begins to play, lights down, spotlight on edward* *ewdward looks out the window wistfully* im….. im a father now jacob….. i dont have time to “figure things out”...... fatherhood was thrown into my life….

J: wtf…….u r literallykt not in ur childs life at al…...do u even pay child support…..rich bitch…...ur not a father…...u just fucked a girl…….

e: *rolls eyes* first of all, she’s half vamp half faerie like she literally doesnt need money to livem, second that wasn’t just any girl that was bella swan………. i feel terribly guilty jacob,...... i should be in rmeumememeueneneseeeses’s life

J: bruh…...so ur like in love with bella now????? And wtf…….what r u gonna do raise her now???? Nah i don wanna be part of this

e: dude… im not in love with her… it’s just my duty as a father………. And who said ur gonna be a part of this? ……… *thinks* maybe i should get married to her?

J: u literally just said she don't need u so why u acting different???? Also im gonna have to be a part of this bc we cannot be more than 10m apart idiot

e: that’s literally temporary………………………………..

J: oh so ur just gonna wait til this is over….shes gonna hate u

e: *slaps him* u don’t know that…… plus it’ll be a good way to pass a couple centuries…..

J: bro but i DO know that….my mom left us or died or sometihng…..and like….if she came back into my life now….id hate her……

e: yeah but ur a fucking werewofl us vampires and feareires dont think like that….. why are u so against this?

J: honestly do whatever u want……...ill be fine as long as youre away from me……

e: well…….. good… glad we’re on the same page *goes back to his bed to watch tiktoks*

J: *sighs and lies on bed staring at the ceiling* *thinks* this is probably a good thing….edward has brought me nothing but pain….

e: *doesn’t scroll on the tiktok whe’s watching so the sound keeps playing over and over again and hes thinking……: why….. do i feel so guilty? i thought it was about renesueme but…………... *out loud* uh. /…… .were we supposed to um go to mclonad’s or something?

J:.......oh yeah….i guess…..if you wanted to….

e: *suddenly annoyed* it was ur fucking idea to go……….

J: bro whatever chill…..lets go then….

e: ok……. like we dont have to go if u dont want to…. its just u mentioned it…..

J: no like we can go….anythings better than hunting with u….

e: ok but do you want to go or u just saying that cus then its a fucking waste of time

J: OH MY GOD LETS JUST GO

e: *slaps him* dont use that attitude with me ,...... u fucking dog

J: *rolls eyes* what the fuck ever…..ur driving

e: i didn’t bring my car with me stupid…….

J: well what the fuck r we gonna do then?????????

e: …… dont u have a car or smthn……. or we could run there

J: im poor remember????? And im also still injured>>>so like wtf now

e: (flashback: new moon, jacob literally has a motorcycle) …./…. dont u have a motorcycle or a truck helllooooooooo

J: ur so fucking insensitive…….we had to sell those to buy groceries…….fuck you…..

e: *under his breath* i guess no sharing motorcycle drivigng…. *sigh* ok uber eatss?

J: yeah whatever…….oh wait….seth has a motorcycle i think….maybe we could ask to borrow it…..

e: *annnoyed* ew…. i dont wanna use seth’s motorcycle……

J: bruhhhhhhhhh y r u always so fucking difficult

e: im not difficult bruh

J: u fucking r

e: fine. use fuckings seth’s motorycycle from him hes ugly anyway

J: alright sick

#twilight #Edward cullen #Jacob black #Bella swan #fanfiction #gay #lgbt

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mothercetrion · 4 years

Text

Birthday Gifts

Summary: It was almost Bi-Han’s birthday. Kuai Liang and Tomas were working together to find a gift for him.

Characters: Sub-Zero (Kuai Liang), Smoke (Tomas Vrbada), Bi-Han

Word Count: 1685

Request: “nice!! can i ask for a fic where smoke and kuai liang (as boys in the lin kuei) try to figure out what to get bi-han for his birthday?” - anonymous

this fic made me feel all sweet bc these two have a beautiful brotherly bond and you can’t change my mind. this for you, anon! also, the reason his bday is so special is because he’s turning 18. take that as you will!

———

Bi-Han’s birthday was the next day. He would be… Well, Kuai Liang and Tomas didn’t quite know how old he would be. Bi-Han hadn’t mentioned his age to either of them in forever. They just knew that he would be older. A year older! And they wanted to find him an excellent gift for Kuai Liang to give his brother.

Bi-Han very rarely celebrated his birthday in a very lush way. He was more into the simple things—a dinner with just Kuai Liang and a dinner with the Lin Kuei. He always told everyone, “Being a member of the Lin Kuei is gift enough” and hated receiving things. But the Grandmaster had told Tomas (who had told Kuai Liang) that this birthday, in particular, was extraordinary. Did they know why? No. Did they care? No!

Kuai Liang had one goal in mind: find a fantastic gift for his older brother to commemorate the special day.

“It cannot be food,” Tomas pointed out. It was their day off from training and the day before Bi-Han’s birthday. It was the last possible day for them to find something for Bi-Han to enjoy. He ate at a snack in the form of a banana as Kuai Liang messed with the freshly-fallen snow on the ground in front of the temple steps. “Perishable,” he added. “You want something he can get long-term use out of.”

“True.” Kuai Liang tossed up a snowball into the air and watched as it dissipated into light snow. “It’s a big day for him. He needs something he can always get purpose from.”

Tomas kicked at the snow that landed next to him from Kuai Liang’s ball. “Could you use your abilities to make him something?”

“He would not like that,” Kuai Liang countered. “I honestly do not know what he likes, but he can make himself something out of his powers. It would not be special.”

Tomas shrugged and went back to thinking. Kuai Liang rose to his feet and planted himself next to Tomas on the steps. “I want him to have a great gift, Tomas. I have zero ideas.”

“You ever think that maybe,” Tomas said, “that Bi-Han would like whatever you give him because it’s from you? I doubt he is as picky as you worry he is.”

Kuai Liang frowned at him. “I mean… I guess we can see what I can come up with… with my abilities, at least.”

“Yeah!” Tomas smacked at his shoulder with a grin. “Heartfelt gifts are always great. He’ll love it.”

And so they began brainstorming. They ruled out people; Kuai Liang’s abilities had not granted him the details of a human face. A faceless human would be weird. Food was also eliminated. A statue of food when Bi-Han could make food for himself? Not a good idea.

“He likes nature,” Tomas mentioned after a while.

“We are surrounded by nature,” Kuai Liang replied.

“Good thing I have eyes,” Tomas muttered. “But it’s always cold and snowing. You can never see, ah… flowers! And green trees! And grass! And all that stuff! Yeah, you can’t do colors, but you can do what he never sees. I think he would quite like that.”

Kuai Liang thought for a minute, and he eventually realized that perhaps it was a brilliant idea. They rarely left the temple, so the sight of the beauty of nature was seldom. Bi-Han had to like that.

So Kuai Liang closed his eyes and began to picture a nature scene in his mind. It had been several months since he saw a living, prospering tree, but he did his best to imagine the grandest tree that his young mind could manage. It had dozens of bending and twisting branches, all of them filled with the brightest leaves. The roots were visible in his mind, and they spread out to keep the tree strong and healthy. It towered over his vision, a representation of life and beauty and the profound significance of nature in the world, but Kuai Liang could still see that it was… stunning.

He didn’t even notice his mind creating magic in his hands. He only noticed when he looked down and saw a statue in his hands.

The roots acted as the base for it, so it could comfortably sit on a flat surface. It was nowhere near the size of the actual tree, of course, but it was still a lovely statue.

Tomas gasped at the sight. “Wow! Kuai Liang, is that what you pictured?”

Kuai Liang stared down at the statue in his palms. “Yes, it is, but… I—”

“I am going to stop you there.” Tomas slid a little closer to Kuai Liang and leaned closer to inspect the statue. “This is… This is incredible. Okay? That’s the truth. I know you want to give Bi-Han something great, and this is it. He will adore this and cherish this. I know I would.”

Kuai Liang glanced at him. “I was thinking so too. I… I suppose we wait until midnight.”

“I think this is your job, Kuai Liang. I wish you the sincerest of luck.”

The rest of the day went by in a flash. Kuai Liang had hidden the tree statue in a back closet, continually checking on it to make sure it did not melt. It wouldn’t; his powers could create the strongest ice that could withstand just about all warm temperatures. But he still wanted it to look just as it did before.

Bi-Han had decided to train on his day off, and he returned to his and Kuai Liang’s shared quarters a few minutes before midnight. Kuai Liang was, of course, in the room, doing his nightly meditation to get his mind ready for sleep. He heard Bi-Han enter, and he greeted him with a smile. “Hi, Bi-Han.”

“Hello, Kuai Liang.” Bi-Han settled on the floor next to him, eyeing him with a faint smile. “You seem to be in a good mood.”

“Of course. It’s almost your day.” He turned to face a clock behind him. Two minutes to midnight. The clock was above the closet that the statue was stored in. “I have a surprise for you this year.”

“Is that so?” Bi-Han asked curiously. “And why this year?”

“The Grandmaster keeps talking about how this year is special. I may not know why, but… I need to celebrate the occasion with a good gift.” Kuai Liang crawled over to the closet and opened the door, spotting the gift in the back. He turned his head to Bi-Han. “Close your eyes.”

Bi-Han lifted a brow in surprise. “Must I?”

“Yes!” Kuai Liang replied. “Trust me. Hold out your hands as well. Palms up, please.”

With a quiet laugh, Bi-Han obliged to his brother’s request. “I feel a faint fear, brother. I am unsure why,” he teased.

Kuai Liang laughed to himself as he lifted the statue from the floor and began moving back to Bi-Han. He looked at the clock another time. Roughly twenty seconds to midnight. He scuffled across the floor and placed the statue, roots down, on top of Bi-Han’s palms. The older brother jumped. “Cold!”

Kuai Liang tilted his head. “You are unbothered by the cold.”

“True. But it’s still cold!”

Kuai Liang laughed again. “Ten more seconds until you can open your eyes.”

“Kuai Liang—”

“Trust me!”

Kuai Liang listened intently to the clock behind him. He heard a louder tick compared to the rest and knew that it was midnight. It was Bi-Han’s day. He pulled his hands away from the statue and let out a sigh. “Happy birthday, Bi-Han. Open your eyes.”

Bi-Han did and opened his eyes. He looked at Kuai Liang for a brief second before looking down at the statue in his hands. He instantly gasped at the sight of the tree in his hands and leaned forward to inspect it further. Kuai Liang looked away from Bi-Han then. He feared his reaction. He wanted him to like the present so strongly, it was indescribable. “I know it is not… the most fantastic thing,” he said quietly, “but it is from the heart. The most meaningful gifts are from the heart, I have learned.”

He heard a quiet laugh and looked back at Bi-Han. His older brother was beaming.

“Oh, Kuai Liang… This is just… I am in shock. I am speechless.” He laughed a little louder and looked up from the statue and to his brother. “You made this? With your powers?” When Kuai Liang nodded without a word, he shook his head. “I cannot believe it. This is beautiful, Kuai Liang.”

Kuai Liang lifted his head a little higher. “It is?”

“Yes! Come here.” He ushered his brother closer with a swing of his head, and Kuai Liang crawled to sit right next to him. Bi-Han carefully rested the gift in one hand and gestured to the branches with the other. “There is a lot of detail considering your age and skill. See those leaves? If they were any larger, they’d be realistic. I think… I think there may even be grooves in the leaves and the trunk.” He moved his hand towards the roots that the tree sat on. “The roots are beautiful as well. Roots are so unconsidered when thinking of trees, and yet here they are. I am very happy about it.”

Bi-Han looked down at Kuai Liang and was surprised to see him in stunned silence. “Did you not think that I would like it, Kuai Liang?”

Kuai Liang stared at the tree instead of his brother. “I wanted it to be the greatest gift imaginable. I know you dislike gifts, but I wanted to make something special for you.”

Bi-Han moved an arm around his shoulders in a side hug. “You did just that, Kuai Liang. That and more.”

Kuai Liang looked up at this brother. “So you like it?”

“I love it. I will cherish it forever.” Bi-Han carefully put the statue on the floor and fully enveloped Kuai Liang in a hug. “Thank you, brother.”

Bi-Han’s birthday was a success.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #kuai liang #sub zero #noob saibot #bi han #smoke #tomas vrbada #fic #my fic #mine #im gonna try NOT linking my ao3 and see how things go

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wkndwhp · 5 years

Text

Even the wind makes a noise eventually

yall asked for it, here it is- the morro fanfic i spent three days on in a burst of inspiration and hey if yall want more of this kind of content lmk, i really enjoy writing (even though tumblr kinda screwed my formatting up)!

putting it beneath the read more bc its uh. a long one.

now cross-posted on ff and ao3!

character study of Wu and Morro || no ships || G (very mild swearing)

snapshots of Morro’s childhood- includes one of my headcanons (selectively mute!Morro)

The day the young sensei Wu found the child digging through his trash was one he’d never expected. The man had seen thousands of years, experienced thousands of things, and yet it had never come to his mind that a scenario like this could come up.

The child couldn’t have been more than ten, but his age was hard to tell with just how small and malnourished he was. His behavior was like that of a scared animal, skittish, fragile, and distant.

Wu watched him scarf down the food he’d left out for the third day in a row, his students peeking around him and out the gate at the sight with curiosity.

“Sensei, shouldn’t we bring him in?” Asked one of them on the fourth day.

“We will, but we must give him time.” Wu had replied, as he watched the boy scurry off, back down the mountain. He wasn’t going far, he’d been hanging around, like a stray dog who’d learned where a restaurant dumped its waste. He’d be back at the gate tomorrow, just a few paces away, far enough for a headstart on escaping if need be, close enough to snatch up the food before it was taken from him by someone who wasn’t there to take it.

Wu was a patient man. He would wait til the child was more comfortable.

It took a full week for the child to stop running off, for him to linger. Wu had studied him quite a bit in this time, and one thing he’d noticed is just how quiet he was, how hesitant he was to look at anyone for more than a moment, keeping his head down, letting his greasy hair drape over his face as if it hid him from view.

Dirt caked his hands, his arms and legs scraped up, and his clothing tattered.

He needed somewhere to go, to clean, to live.

This was only a child, after all.

Wu decided that the next day, he would approach him, and offer him the chance to come inside.

It was a lot like taking in a cat who’d lived outside its whole life. Wu left the gate cracked, and the child would wander in and out at will, staying in longer as his comfort grew.

Soon, he was sleeping inside the gate.

Wu made him up a room, seperate from his other students, closer to his own. The child was still skittish, he needed a pillar of support, and that would be Wu until he was okay on his own.

The child was bathed, clothed in something better, and fed. A silent, personal pledge was made: “I will keep this child safe.”

He couldn’t keep calling the boy by nothing, he needed a name.

Morro, he decided, as a lone hill, a mountain, isolated, was like he had once been.

Morro was still silent, going on a month living in the monastery. Hadn’t said a word to anyone, even though he had integrated nicely.

Wu had begun to wonder if, perhaps, he was mute. It wasn’t out of the question, of course, and he would find a way to communicate if he were.

And then one day, his wondering was put to rest.

“Morro, could you fetch my teapot?” Wu had been meditating, Morro sitting just across the room, silent and watching. He stood, slowly, and brought it over.

“Thank you.” Wu took the teapot carefully, and poured himself a cup.

A quiet moment, then, a hesitant reply. A voice Wu had wondered about for days.

“You’re welcome.”

Wu nearly spilt his tea.

Morro had begun to watch the students train, Wu noticed one day. He watched with curiosity, with a passion, a longing to do what they were doing. So he extended an offer.

“Morro, would you like to join in on the lesson?” His students paused, turning to look at the other, who shrunk back for a moment under the sudden attention.

“Um.”

“It’s alright, you can come and follow along.”

Cautiously, Morro stepped forward, shrinking further still under the eyes of his peers.

“Class- look forward.” The direction fixed that issue, as his students turned back to him, and Morro relaxed, taking up a space towards the back.

“Now, back to the lesson. What was I saying about quitting?”

Wu had a talent for spotting great potential, but sometimes that required pushing, maybe a bit harder than was considered kind.

Morro took a heavy hit, knocked down by an older student.

“Get up.” Wu barked, sounding quite like his father to his own ear.

Morro didn’t get up.

“Get up!” He repeated, and the child scrambled to his feet, meeting the other student’s eyes for a moment. Wu didn’t see the look of confusion on either of their faces as both of them realized that, for some reason, their sensei was being exceptionally hard on Morro. The lesson continued, as did the treatment.

And it continued on with every lesson after, Morro being pushed harder than the others for reasons no one was quite sure of.

Wu knew greatness when he saw it, and he knew how to push it out of someone.

Morro spent a lot of time sitting outside the gate, quietly watching the sky, eyes chasing kites as they flitted across the blue. Wu found him like that before class, as he often did, and he’d brought a gift. The boy had been around for a bit now, more than two months, and he’d been making great progress in his training with the extra pressure, yet, somehow, Wu felt they’d grown distant.

Maybe he was being too hard on him.

The gift was an attempt to try and mend.

When he handed Morro the kite, the reaction he’d gotten came in three steps:

Initial confusion, joy, then hesitation. Had Wu really pushed him that hard, that he’d doubt a gift? He nodded encouragingly, pointing up at the other kites, about to explain how to fly it before the teakettle went off and he had to go stop its whistling.

Morro held the kite a moment, then glanced to the sky, then back to the kite. Careful, he stirred the wind, as he’d been practicing in secret for years, the breeze lifting the kite up into the air. A stronger gust sent it higher, and he held it there, suspended in air.

That’s how Wu found him a moment later.

The wind seemed to stir up something else aside from the kite, a memory, a wonder in Wu.

The color green suddenly seemed to make sense.

Green, huh? Morro would wear green one day- be the one who kept everyone safe? Morro barely understood, destiny a confusing concept, but one thing was clear: training was about to be ramped up. He had to keep up- he was green. Green and green and green and what if he failed? If he didn’t live up to the expectations?

Memories of his past were few, but Morro remembered a bit.

The bit about his father- about the bitter noise and being chased off, no older than six, alone and alone and alone.

Morro could not fail.

The streets had never been kind- he never wanted to go back, and if he failed, oh God, if he failed he’d go back, wouldn’t he? Only kept around for his potential- wasn’t he?

Wu saw green and Morro was green- would be green.

Morro was good- stronger, faster, more resilient. He toppled the other students with ease, twelve years old with the spirit and force of a hurricane. Yet- Wu seemed displeased. What had he done wrong? He’d won, hadn’t he? Anger bubbled up- he needed stronger opponents.

“Get up!” Morro yelled, tugging at the arm of another student, who cowered, pulling away, afraid of the storm in the green eyes staring him down. “Get up!”

“Enough!” Wu has stepped down, off the steps, marching towards his prized student. If Morro was a hurricane, Wu was an apocalypse. He expected Morro to stop, to step away, but he didn’t. He turned, defiant, to his sensei.

“But Sensei-“

“I said enough.”

“When is ‘enough’ ever enough in my training, Sensei?” His voice, never more than a whisper, always so hidden, was harsh and loud now. It shook, still, despite its certainty in the moment.

“You are done for today, Morro. Room.”

The other students watched, tense, as they stared one another down. A moment, then Morro turned, averting his eyes, and ran off to his room.

Wu began to wonder if he had been wrong- if green wasn’t what he saw.

And yet training continued, and Morro grew stronger still, the deep rooted fear of rejection- of failing and being left- of the destiny he had been handed and forced to carry. Green, hm? He’d have to be good enough for green.

The day had come, a day Wu had been dreading, a day Morro had, with anxious breath, been looking forward to. Morro would be called Green and everything would be fine- Wu wouldn’t leave him, because he’d be green- he had to be he’d worked so hard to get here.

Wu smiled softly at his pupil, who strode into the room with sure steps, with fidgeting hands.

The weapons laid out. Morro closed his eyes, and stepped forward, surrounding himself with their golden light.

And it was silent.

Wu blinked, heaved a sigh.

Morro opened his eyes. No no no no no.

“I’ll train more- learn more lessons!” He couldn’t have come all his way for nothing. He couldn’t have spent so long, only for destiny to-

“Destiny has spoken.” Wu was calm, his worries of an over-ambitious green ninja put to rest. It wasn’t Morro, that was fine with him.

Anger, more than any Morro had ever felt, swirled like a cyclone in him. His sensei didn't care. He never had, had he? He’d only tolerated him for destiny’s sake. Morro, voice rough around its edges, underused for years, raised to a shout.

“Then I refuse to listen!” There was no way he could give up now- without a purpose, never having been given time for anything else but practice. Never having thought of the “what-if” enough to have a backup plan, Sensei so sure he wouldn’t need one. No purpose, no need for him- would he be thrown back out? The wind howled outside, and Morro yelled with all the force he had, grabbing the screen door, throwing it, a gale force trapped in the dojo. “You made me believe!”

The room was a mess, his student having torn it apart then left in a whirlwind. Wu stood, stomach in knots, guilt dying his mind from green to grey.

Morro was his biggest regret.

When Wu entered Morro’s room, he was greeted with a sight he hadn’t expected. The boy, still a child, had packed a bag with only the essentials, the cloth he’d tied it all in torn from his old kite. He was leaving?

Better to leave than be kicked out, better to act as though you’re okay when you want to cry, because Sensei trained you to be stronger than that.

Proving destiny wrong was no easy task.

One slip up, you’re dead.

Morro clambered into the cave, older now, alone. How he’d made it to eighteen while testing fate time and time again he’d never know.

A sound rumbled from somewhere- one of the tests? The room smelled awful, sickening, heavy clouds of smoke and soot, the ground beneath his feet covered in pebbles that rolled and slid whenever he took a step. Surely it was here, right? If only he could see!

A wind whipped up the smoke, clearing it away, shaking lose the unsteady surroundings. A cave in- like fate had found the least climactic way to kill him. The boulders that tumbled down pinned his legs, the smog and noxious gas filling his lungs. Too much of that and he’d be dead- if only he could move these damn rocks.

No breezes, no winds, nothing. He was pinned.

A slow death is what he deserved, he supposed.

A second per hour he’d wasted on this whole ordeal.

The cursed realm isn’t what he expected- though he should have. The First Spinjitzu Master wasn’t one to support people seeking out his tomb for personal reasons- for reasons going against destiny. Or maybe it was his years spent claiming to be the green ninja? His simple existence?

Cursed.

How fitting that ghosts were green.

#mod cole #fanfic #ninjago #morro ninjago #ninjago morro #lego ninjago #ninjago fanfic #selectively mute character #selectively mute morro #s5 spoilers #GOD im jittery posting this!#i never post my writing drftghjk #so uh #blease give me feedbakc

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