#like did they make out during the mountain months? maybe. but did they ever fuck facing each other? imo probably not. not until 1967

[nopefer-art-tu]

so i was thinking abt the old brokeback mountain forum threads i had stumbled upon last yr and i remember coming across a very lengthy one where people were debating the nature of ennis and jack's relationship during their days on brokeback mountain. specifically, people were debating about whether or not ennis and jack kissed at all during those first few months of friendship and fucking.

i know what y'all may be thinking: but nickie, didn't they literally kiss, like, super passionate style during the unfamous second-night-in-the-tent (or SNIT, as the BetterMost forum users dubbed it) scene?

but see, the thing is that in the original short story Annie Proulx never mentioned them kissing during their time on the mountain. In fact, the first (and only) time kissing is mentioned is during their reunion. In an interview, Ang Lee had said that the whole SNIT scene was written into the film to help audiences better understand the budding passion and love between Ennis and Jack. Otherwise, they felt viewers wouldn't quite get the depth of feelings that they had for each other, and thought they would've been lost as to why it hurt them both so bad to be separated earlier than they'd anticipated.

of course i love the idea that they eased into intimacy so early on in their relationship that they made out a ton while herding on the mountains, but imo, it's also kind of interesting to think about the reunion scene being their first kiss.

in her Story to Screenplay book essay, Annie Proulx said that ranchers would often hire two guys to tend a flock together so that they could 'poke each other' on the lonesome days in the mountains. In some ways, Ennis and Jack fucking was a normal and anticipated part of the job—a 'one-shot thing' that would occur simply due to circumstance. She said what was unusual about Ennis and Jack's case is that the two had fallen into a deep, once-in-a-lifetime kind of love during their time together, thus negating the whole 'one-shot' thing Ennis had declared it to be.

with that in mind, i can see why so many people believed that they never kissed during their initial months of relationship building. They both could have justified it by thinking that as long as they didn't kiss, their tryst didn't mean anything special, nor would it make them queer for going at it like rabbits. Then they both go through the turmoil of losing each other, not knowing why it was they felt so bad about going their separate ways, and go through four long years of silence before "the first sign of life" appears in the form of a postcard.

Jack pulls up in Ennis' driveway, and Ennis is so overcome with joy and desire that first thing his (alcohol-muddled) mind thinks to do is kiss the living daylights out of Jack, and in that moment—as those old forum users had put it—that was basically the first time either of them were able to acknowledge to themselves that the summer on the mountain in '63 meant a whole lot more to them than it should have.

i dunno. i think it's a really interesting subject to think about, one that gets broached in fics very rarely. would like to hear your all's thoughts, if any!

#brokeback mountain #still brokeback posting #also i KNOW this is my art acc but unfortunately my main is like hidden? so none of my posts will show up in tags :( #anyways regardless of if they did or didnt kiss beforehand im a big fan of the idea that after their big reunion kiss their intimacy #deepened considerably to the point where like. the motel scene wasnt just them fucking but it was their first time making love #like did they make out during the mountain months? maybe. but did they ever fuck facing each other? imo probably not. not until 1967 #cause again its like the first time they realized just what they had meant to each other and how much they had missed each other #maybe they still couldnt register it as love because they didnt want to and couldnt take that big of a step as to name it. or maybe they #didnt think that they were capable of feeling love. or maybe they just didnt have the vocab to be able to define those feelings as love #in the first place. #but they at least knew that like. they were inexplicably drawn to each other in a way that they weren't to their wives

[silentmoths]

Quick-Relief

slides in like I havent not written anything for *squints* several fucking months.

the 'morax horny stick' decided to bonk me out of the blue today and so this was born, its quick, its dirty, take it or leave it, heathens.

Morax x Adeptus! Reader (fem anatomy)

NSFW

Smut, Semi public, mentions of war, Morax is a lil on the rougher side, honestly this is just Porn without Plot.

How long had you been in the field now? Two months? Three? You’d honestly lost count. 

There was real keeping of time during the archon war, at least not for you; you were an adeptus, here to fight for your archon, Morax.

And yet, you can't help but miss the times… before.

When you would wander the halls of his domain, only for a strong, darkened arm to reach out from his study or his chambers, catching your waist, your sleeve, the sash of your hafu, and dragging you in. 

You were…unsure what you were exactly to Morax, a lover maybe? Or perhaps simple stress relief? You did not know, and you did not dare to ask. In the end you were one of his Adepti, and you would fight, serve or fall into his embrace, as he commanded.

Rain pelts against your skin as you slowly trudge up the mountain path towards the nearest encampment, carrying an injured comrade with you. Somewhere in the distance, you see Alatus flit past and you wonder just how he manages to maintain such energy, you don't think you’d seen the general stop for a breather the entire time, at least not until he was somewhat gravely injured…and even then he would only rest as little as he had to.

You pass your comrade off to a more capable healer than yourself before going off in search of food. A bath probably should have been first on the agenda but you just…didn’t have the energy in you for it yet, food first, then bath…and maybe if you were lucky, some sleep.

Yeah things don’t go the way you planned. When do they ever?

As you shovel away a quick meal of rice and vegetables, you cant help but feel eyes on you, but between being too tired to look around, and knowing everyone else sitting around you were just as busy shovelling food into your faces, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. That same feeling lingers as you shamble towards a bathing spring, no time to soak, if you wanted a chance at getting some sleep before you were called to action again, you needed to scrub and go, which is exactly what you do. Violently scrubbed clean of dirt, debris and blood, as much as you want to remain, you force yourself from the warm waters, quickly drying off before making for a tent, you didn't care who was in there, you just wanted somewhere sheltered to rest your head.

A hand, warm, familiar and strong, rests upon your shoulder, but in your tired stupor, you swing, intending on hitting away whomever had approached so quietly until your wrist is grabbed.

You knew the glow of these hands anywhere, the geo resonating softly through his veins, and you look up to be met with smouldering amber.

“Morax…” you whisper.

He’s caught somewhere between dragon and man, he has the human visage you are used to, the one he used most often to interact with mortals, but his horns and tail were also visible; his horns glowing a faint golden in the low light of the chilly mountainside. 

You feel his grip tighten on you, his pupils restricting into slits for a mere moment before blowing wide and you can feel the anticipation beginning to run up your spine. Yeah you weren't sleeping tonight.

A beat passes between you both before he turns, tugging you along, out of sight of anyone, out of the encampment entirely, and all you can do is stumble along as his massive hand grips your wrist. He walks these mountains like a flat road, he knew them better than the back of his own hand, his strides are wide, and quick as he leads you further from camp, down a slippery cliff and before you know it, into a cave, only to be pressed against the cool stone wall as he practically hikes you up it, your legs coming to rest around his waist as he holds you there effortlessly.

“My lord-” 

“Shut up.” Morax all but growls back before his lips crash into yours, long, serpentine tongue invading your mouth in a very quickly lost battle of dominance. His hands claw at your robe, tugging the offending garment apart so he can get at your naked body with ease, your own arms moving to wrap around his neck.

gods, you hadn’t realised just how much you needed this.

The longer you spend pressed between your archon’s warm flesh, and the cold stone of the wall, the more the churning arousal in your gut becomes apparent. You’d been fighting for so long you’d absolutely disregarded your body and it’s signals, and judging by how rough Morax was being, one hand gripping your hip tight enough to leave bruises whilst the other shoves his own pants down to his knees, he must have been feeling the same.

“My lord-” you try again, your own hands shifting up to his horns, grabbing hold to at least try and pull him away for a moment so you can breathe.”Take a moment-” “No.” He growls, one hand gripping your hips as a pair of fingers push inside your already embarrassingly wet cunt. “The moment I saw you walk into camp, I couldn’t withhold anymore.” he rumbles, smirking dangerously as he watches your face twist with a mix of pleasure and pain as he splays those long, devilish fingers, after so long, you’re glad he at least had the forwithall to stretch you and take some of the inevitable sting off.

“Your body has toned up some more.” He muses as he continues the rough thrust of his fingers, his own body weight keeping you pressed against the wall as his free hand roams the expanse of your body revealed beneath the robe “and yet, despite all the fighting, your skin still feels like silk.” You can feel your cheeks heating at his surprisingly tender words; there was no small amount of pent up lust edging his tone, and yet he still found time to leave a compliment as his lips descend upon your neck, biting and suckling, leaving a small trail of blooming bruises from your jaw to your collarbone, all while he revels in the breathy gasps and muffled moans he draws from your lips.

That same tenderness doesn’t last long though; the moment he begins to feel you clench around his fingers, hear the way your voice pitches higher, he knew you were close, and instead of simply letting you come, he pulls his fingers out and you whine at him, looking to his face desperately, only to be met with a dark smirk before he quickly, harshly shoves his cock into you, burying all the way to the hilt in one single, harsh thrust that has you screaming, the sudden intrusion enough to send you over that edge as you orgasm around him.

“That's it.” he rumbles at you, his voice caught somewhere between a growl and a purr as his draconic tail lashes behind him, he doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath, his hips setting a brutal pace that has any breath you manage to catch leaving your body just as quickly as you moan into his shoulder. You feel it, every ridge of his inhuman cock, rutting inside of you, a dull aching pain mixed with pure, overwhelming pleasure as Morax growls into your throat, his teeth pressing against your skin, but not quite biting down.

His hands grab your waist, shifting your legs until they’re locked around his hips, just so he can get a better grip on you and take a step back, pulling you from the wall so he can all but bounce you on his cock like you were nothing more than a toy for him. He watches as your eyes roll back, and feels your hands, clinging desperately around his shoulders, one of your fingers finally catching in his hair tie and yanking, you did so love seeing his silky hair free and cascading down his back and shoulders.

Usually, before the war, when he’d pull you in for a night of intimacy, it was a slow affair; he liked to take his time, methodical in every one of his actions. 

That was not the case today.

This was a man pent up, stressed, pulled to the very limits and in desperate need of release, and he knew that just as well as you did. His pace was brutal, ruthless, and you cry for it because you needed this just as much as him, something to take your mind off of all the fighting, all the death and destruction, a moment to feel… mortal.

You only vaguely remember the moment he cums inside you, it’s hot, searingly so and it shoves you right off the edge into your second orgasm as your world turns white, a stark contrast to the drizzly grey day.

You wake, the next morning in a tent, re-clothed, rugged up amongst blankets and pillows, your muscles ached, but when had they not lately? Just some…new kinds of ache that made you realise last night had definitely not been a dream.

As if the impressive amount of hickeys you now had to find a way to hide weren't proof enough of your quick foray with the geo archon himself.

You just hoped the de-stressing had helped clear his head a little, after all, you were there to serve him.

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

#Silentmothwrites #finally #Zhongli genshin #Zhongli x reader #Zhongli x reader smut

[bookish-whore]

Falling Part X

Azriel x Reader

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Heavy Content (nightmares, SA Trauma, flashbacks)

A/N: After a long hiatus, IT'S FINALLY HERE!!!! If you’re new to this fic then welcome and if you are one of my og readers welcome back. I can’t thank you all enough for your support for this story and I am so ready to continue this journey. I hope you guys like it!! (also this one is definitely for the Lucien shippers ❤️)

My Masterlist -> Here

Falling Masterlist -> Here

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It had been months since Azriel came to the Day Court, but our conversation replayed on a continuous loop in my mind:

“Please don’t go y/n” he begged “Not like this please just- fuck I know how it seems but I have been honest, doesn’t that count for something? I know- I know I hurt you and I hurt Elain but If you just give me a chance, I can fix this, I can fix us.” “I can’t Az” I said, my own tears falling in tandem with his “maybe someday I can forgive you and we can move past this, but not right now” I made my way to the door, reaching for the knob to leave when his voice halted me. “I’m not giving up y/n” he said “I promise you; I don’t care how long it takes. Even if it takes an eternity, I am not giving up on this.”

I went over our last interaction constantly, the desperation in his eyes as I left him on his knees in that room. I felt confident in the moment but leaving him there didn’t make me feel better about any of this, about Elain or our situation. If anything it had left me more confused about what I wanted.

It had also been months since the incident, and I wasn’t sleeping. I found myself plagued by nightmares. No matter what I tried I would wake up every night in a cold sweat the sound of that voice ringing in my head.

“you’re a pretty little thing aren’t you?”

It was paralyzing, I knew that I was safe and in my own bed, but I could feel the chill of the night air as it sank into my bones, I could feel the rough texture of the alley as it scraped my back. I could smell the smoke and liquor on that male’s breath as he leaned in close to me.

“You can scream, but no one’s coming to save you”

I covered my ears, but I could still hear the distinct sound of him unbuckling his belt, the sound of fabric ripping and sliding. Every night I woke up to the feeling of being completely helpless.

But I wasn’t alone in my pain anymore.

I had my first nightmare after the meeting with Azriel and I remember three things distinctly: screaming, throwing the bedsheets off my body, and Lucien.

That night Lucien had heard my screams and barreled through the door ready to fight off an intruder only to find me curled in a ball on the floor at the foot of my bed.

He pulled me into him and didn’t let me go through it alone. He smoothed my hair from my face and let me cry into his chest while whispering words of encouragement in my ear, not that I was cognizant enough in that state to process he was even speaking.

It had become a habit, him holding me when I woke in that state. He would pick me up and tuck me into bed seating himself beside me. I would lean my head on his shoulder, and he would gently ask me If I wanted to talk about it and the times I said no, He would distract me with stories to make me feel better.

He told me about how Feyre was when she came back from under the mountain, that she would have nightmares every night about what she had done to those faeries and he told me he often wondered how Tamlin did nothing when her pain was so loud she was practically screaming to be heard, to be felt, to be understood and he told me how he was so grateful to Rhysand for bringing her back to life. During these conversations he would often tell me that if she could become who she is now out of what she endured that I too would survive and come out of this all stronger than ever.

There were also times when he thought I was asleep that he told me about his own demons, about Jesminda and his family, about lying to Feyre when she first arrived in the Spring Court, and his regret helping Tamlin align himself with Hybern for selfish reasons and how he wished he could explain that to Elain, to Nesta, how he just wanted a chance to apologize.

Lucien had become my savior and he never let me be alone, he was bringing me back to life, whether or not he knew it.

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Today was a late morning, the kind that followed a rough night of shit sleep because the same tired nightmares kept me awake, but Lucien’s calming presence was keeping me sane, he rarely slept in his own bed these days. I stretched out my limbs careful not to wake him beside me and rubbed the sleep from my eyes sitting up to appreciate the day.

It was springtime now and the Day Court was in full bloom, the vibrant colors exploding on every surface as the flowers blossomed, their aroma constantly wafting through the halls, the entangled scents of lavender, gardenia, Hyacinth, Peony and gods knows what else was constantly invading my senses.

Lucien stretched out next to me, making that small little noise in his throat he makes every morning when he wakes up.

“Good morning” I said softly

“Mhmm” he muttered into his pillow; I had learned that despite his consistently friendly demeanor Lucien Vanserra was not a morning person.

“So, what’s on the agenda today” I asked, gently hitting him with a pillow to rouse him faster.

Lucien turned over, sitting up and grabbing the pillow from my grip “Well…” he drawled out with a yawn “I was thinking we could go to the equinox festival.”

“What is that?” I asked.

“Well, you would probably know it as Starfall but it’s a weeklong endeavor here and everyone really goes all out. I mean there are markets and live music and food stalls everywhere. It’s truly a celebration and I think it would be fun.”

“Oh gods- It’s already Starfall?” I asked; my voice much smaller than I intended it to be, Lucien knew that it was one of my favorite celebrations in the Night Court and the thought that I wouldn’t be participating in it this year brought tears to my eyes, but I swiped them before he could see.

“I know how much it hurts not to be there” Lucien said pressing his forehead to mine as he grabbed my hand, interlocking our fingers as his thumb drew circles on the back of it.

“New traditions right” I said softly, reiterating our agreement to work towards moving forward despite our pain.

“Right” he agreed.

“This equinox festival…it sounds like exactly what I need.”

Lucien flashed me a smile, before getting out of bed and pulling on his slippers and dressing robe.

“I’ll meet you downstairs for a late breakfast in an hour?” he asked “Then we can head into town and do some shopping.”

“Only if those lemon blueberry muffins are involved.”

“I will personally see to it.” He said with a smile.

“Then it’s a deal, see you soon Vanserra.”

He made his way to my side of the bed and pressed a kiss to the top of my head before quietly making his way to his own rooms.  

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I took my time getting ready, enjoying the warm bath and soothing salts. I only got out because the water was tepid, and I was hungry. I chose a simple green dress for our outing, it was short sleeved with a flowy skirt that was decorated with floral embroidery, it reminded me of the things I loved about springtime: the way the flowers bloomed, the way the sun shined, the way the birds sang, it reminded me of new beginnings, and I needed that kind of thinking today. I slipped on my everyday boots and pulled my hair into a braid securing it with a ribbon to keep it out of my face during the day and I made my way downstairs.

Lucien was wearing what he usually did, a simple pair of linen pants and a sleeveless vest brocaded with intricate swirling patterns, today it was gold and green. I smirked at his choice because we were practically matching. I had to admit that the green really brought out the color of his eyes, the russet one in stark contrast to the gold mechanical one that was always subtly watching, the green also brought out the fiery orange of his hair, which he had in a loose knot at the back of his head.

I turned sharply at the stairs to make my way to the dining room when Lucien gently grabbed my arm.

“I figured since we were already having a late start that we could make a day of this.”

“How so?”

“Well…” He winnowed away and appeared a moment later holding a large wicker basket “I figured we could set off to the town, taking the scenic route of course, and that we could stop by Larimar Lake to have lunch.”

I went silent, mostly because I was taken aback at the quick planning and his attention to detail. I had just mentioned last week how much I loved that lake and how I wished I could find time to visit more.

“I think that’s a great idea” I said interlocking my arm with his as we began our journey.

We walked towards the stables talking about nothing really, the weather, the flowers and our excitement for the day.

I saw the horses saddled and ready to go. Helion had gifted me Adira, she was a beautiful black mare with a thick wavy mane, she was good tempered and docile. I had taken up riding a few weeks upon arriving as a hobby and had immediately bonded with her and Helion had seen that, He gifted her to me a few days later and we had spent countless hours together. Next to her was Arion, he was Lucien’s horse a chestnut stallion, he was larger than Adira, but they got along well. The stable hands had prepped them both and were waiting for us in front of the stable. Lucien helped me get on Adira first, making sure I was settled comfortably with the reigns and secured the basket to my saddle bag before mounting Arion with ease. With a click of his tongue, both horses began at a slow pace up the winding road towards the lake.

It had been maybe two hours into our ride when we approached the lake, I could smell the water long before I saw it. It was a sight to behold. I remember Lucien told me the first time we came here that they called it Larimar Lake after a crystal of the same name that is a dazzling sparkling blue, according to an old wives tale, when the mother created Prythian she left the crystals to grow in the lake which is how it got its magnificent blue color.

I swung my leg over Adira, jumping off her onto the soft ground below and handed the reigns to Lucien who took them both to a nearby stream and secured them to a tree. He picked a spot close to the lake on a grassy patch and began setting up. He started by putting down a large blanket and setting out the contents of the basket he brought. I however had other ideas.

I quickly took off my boots discarding them and my socks near the blanket Lucien had set up and made my way to the lakes edge. I just wanted to feel the cool water on my skin, as I looked out over its vast depths I couldn’t help but admire the way the sun glittered on the surface like crystal. This- this felt like an integral part of healing, being able to see the beauty in a world that had wronged me so badly.

As I stood barefoot on the sand, letting the delicate waves wash over my feet and up to my ankles. I tipped my head back soaking in the sun’s gentle warmth.

And for a brief moment, everything else slipped away.

And I was…happy

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She was a sight for sore eyes.

I had that thought earlier when she came downstairs in that green dress. I loved her in green, the way it complimented her eyes and the perfect tone of her skin. Y/n looked good in everything but oh gods did she look radiant today.

Our relationship was complicated to say the least. In the last few months all of our time has been spent together. I mean I practically lived in her bedroom returning to my own only for a change of clothes. I also found myself craving the comfort of her presence, the way she laughed, and I mean really laughed from deep in her chest which was becoming more and more common; or the way she clung to me after her nightmares, I even found it hard to fall asleep without the steady soft snoring she did when she fell into a deep sleep.

I felt guilty for developing these feelings for her. Especially when I knew what she endured, when I knew what haunted her, the demons she was avoiding that came for her at night, I held her while she screamed and thrashed and cried and I lulled her to sleep with various stories I thought she would like. Stories that would distract her from her pain, and when I couldn’t think of any, I shared my own pain, to show her that I understood to some extent what she was going through.

I seemed to be the only person she could trust right now, and I valued that more than anything. I would never do anything to jeopardize that, but I couldn’t help but have these feelings for her. Not all the time but there were moments and I wonder if she felt them too. I don’t know exactly when it started but maybe they were always there.

I reminded myself constantly that she wasn’t ready to consider a life without Azriel, he was her mate and he would always have a hold on her life the same way Elain seemed to have a hold on mine, but I also knew that over time the mating bond felt like a headache, a dull pain that would come every once in a while as a sullen reminder of a life that could have been, but one that isn’t a reality and how could I think of what could have been when she was here and she looked so perfect, barefoot with her face angled to the sun.

Here on the lake, she was alive, and she was vibrant, and she was beautiful. Here on the lake, there was no trace of the broken woman I found that night curled into herself, no inkling of doubt, or despair, or pain. I wish I could keep her like this. In fact, I would resign myself to loving her in the shadows so long as she was happy.

I brought myself back to reality at the soft sound of her padding over and plopping herself on the blanket.

“Thank the mother, I am starving” she said grabbing one of the lemon blueberry muffins she requested, as well as various berries and popping them into her mouth

“When are you not?” I teased handing her a plate of all her favorites and a glass of wine.

“Very funny Vanserra” she said grabbing the glass and taking a sip.

“So how far out are we from the town?” she asked after a while.

“Mmmm” I took a sip of my wine “I would say another two hours or so to Illmire”

She nodded, a sly smile crossing her face as she tossed a blueberry at me. I made sure to feign a disappointing smirk at her as it bounced off my forehead and into the grass.

She saw right through it, she always did.

“So, we have a little time?” she asked

“That depends on what you have in mind.”

“I just want to enjoy this a little longer.”

“Okay, I’ll be right here.”

Her face morphed into a frown.

“What?” I asked.

“I want you to come with me.”

“Absolutely not” I said firmly “I have to pack this up and get the horses ready”

“You can spare a few minutes” she pleaded tugging my hand softly “Come on Lucien…come lay in the sun with me.”

I rolled my eyes, getting up from my position to follow her to the water’s edge, and I followed her lead, laying out on the sandy beach letting the sun warm my face.

I looked over at her, her eyes closed as she simply soaked in the sun on her face, letting the cool water gently touch her feet before receding.

If she only knew, I would do anything for her.

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I was surprised Lucien indulged me for as long as he did.

After a while he stood, pulling me up with him and made his way to the blanket, packing away the containers and folding the linens. He piled everything into the bags and secured them to Arion’s side.

I stood in anticipation, fiddling with my hands.

“Go” he said with a smile “I know you want to.”

“you’re the best” I said pressing a kiss to his cheek as I turned and ran towards the water, I pulled my dress over my head and dove in wearing just my undergarments. The water was so clear and cool. I submerged my head, diving to the bottom to look up at the sky through the water. I loved the way the sun reflected off the surface. I came up for air and floated there with my arms outstretched.

Lucien chuckled as he approached with a towel.

“Don’t worry…I planned accordingly.”

“You know me so well” I shouted.

“Take your time” he said “but there are some clouds rolling in from the north, looks like a storm.”

“Help me out?” I asked gesturing my head to the towel in his hands.

Lucien unrolled it, holding it out for me. I walked right into his arms, and he bundled it around me.

“You ready to go?” he asked

“Mhmmm” I nodded toweling my body dry and putting my dress back on, I had to re-braid my hair but it was definitely worth it.

Lucien helped me back into the saddle and we were off to Illmire.

He was right, it was about two hours, but as soon as we got into town the skies opened up and it started pouring. The townsfolk were all scrambling into shops and taverns to get out of the rain, I didn’t mind it so much and neither did Lucien but we made haste to the inn.

The innkeeper’s name was Rasmus and he was a sweet old man, he immediately took Adira and Arion to the stables and set them up for the night. Not to mention he recognized Lucien immediately and refused to let us pay for a room, he even insisted on bringing us dinner later, which worked out because the storm only worsened.

It looked like we were staying the night.

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Taglist (Falling) ->

@moonfawnx @we-were-beautiful @96jnie @frgman-sins @fromdelos @goldentournesol @ruler-of-hades @mrs-azriel @feyretopia @daily-dose-of-sass @mulansaucey @owllover123 @redbleedingrose @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @marigold-morelli @aelinismyqueen @elizarikaallen @clueless-gold @starrstrucked @em---r @bankerfrog @strawbwebbie @morks-watermelon @kristalhi @lolabell0556 @intrxde @aubreylovesthegames @xxoverthinkerxx @caosfanblr @mis-lil-red @haswellington @wolfyland07 @answer-the-sirens @kaz-2y567 @judig92 @esposadomd @violet-shadows @meghan52300 @biblophilefox82 @issybee0611 @writingsbychlo @katherinereid @baarishkiboond @hernameispia @positivewitch @dragonqueeneliza @minipiglover

#azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #lucien x y/n #lucien x reader #helion x reader #helion x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar series #acotar #cassian x nesta #bookish-whore

[zenaidamacrouras1]

Backhoe Bonus Drabble

This is a random summer scene that doesn't fit into any of my Backhoe chapters. I'll have a series of these that I'll probably add on as a separate work in the Backhoe series after the whole fic is finished, but have a tumblr drabble for now. This takes place during the time jump between chapters 19 and 20. I don't think it's majorly spoilery, and I don't think you need to read the fic to get it. If you like to read a fic pure with no surprises whatsoever, maybe read the fic first.

Chapters 1-20 are here, chapters 21 and 22 are mostly ready and will post this week and next, probably going to be like 25 chapters total please stop laughing at me I'm trying to end this damn thing. (initial chapter count was like 5) (go ahead and laugh) (but also feel free to encourage me, I think I'm finally out of my writer's block, yay!)

Late July:

Ever since Bucky became manager for his crew, he’s tried to make sure they don’t have unexpected afternoons off. On the one hand, sure, there’s nothing better than finishing a job early and peacing the fuck off to head home. On the other, well, you don’t get paid for hours you don’t work. So, he tries to make it so everyone’s getting paid, is all. 

But sometimes, the timing just doesn’t work out like that. Right now, it’s 1 pm on a Friday, and they’ve wrapped up this gig, and it don’t make sense to start on the next job till Monday morning, so everyone heads home. Bucky promises some long days next week to make up for it on that paycheck. So it’s backslaps and a few dirty jokes while they all pack up, and then Bucky’s in his truck driving the winding roads back home. 

Steve’s gonna be there, he thinks, with a grin he’s glad no one can see. Steve’s just come back last night from helping out with some action out in San Francisco. Greenpeace paid him to fly out there and do trainings on art shit and paint some big-ass banners.

Bucky’d like to burst with pride when he saw those damn banners hanging from a god damn skyscraper, protesting globalization. Steve was on strict orders from Greenpeace and one J.B. Barnes not to get arrested himself; he just painted the banners. Bucky had shown the pictures to Peter, cause Peter was the only guy at work he’s out with on both the politics stuff and on the gay stuff. Peter’s genuine “Holy shit, man” was worth all the teasing that followed about how fucking lovesick Bucky is about his sexy little anarchist boyfriend. 

But also, he had missed Steve, fuck it all but he did, and dammit the guy was only gone five days. It doesn’t bode well for when Steve goes back to college next month, but Bucky’s never been one to worry about a debt before it comes due. That just means suffering twice.

Bucky listens to the truck for any errant noises as he drives. He'd thought he heard a knock this morning, but apparently whatever it was has worked itself out for now. He switches on the stereo.

Bucky tries one of the playlists Steve loves listening to, featuring Against Me! and a bunch of other political punk bands. Bucky doesn’t hate it, he doesn’t, but fuck, it’s a pretty summer’s day and the sunlight’s filtering through the leaves and everything green is just so happy to be alive and growing in the mountains right now. That music is so damn strident, sometimes a man just wants to enjoy some peace in this world and forget about all the problems. After half a song, Bucky switches to some bluegrass. He and Steve don’t have to like the same music, he figures. 

Becca Jane, never shy with her opinion, has declared that Steve’s music of choice sounded "like you stuck a bull in a barrel with an electric guitar and shoved it down a flight of stairs." About three days into listening to the punk music coming out of Steve’s studio in the laundry room, she’d come home from her MCAT prep course and handed Steve a pair of brand-new bluetooth headphones and an ultimatum. 

So the Barnes kids like country music and their houseguest, who happens to be Bucky's boyfriend, likes punk. Steve switched to headphones and there really haven’t been any other major conflicts with him living there. It’s kind of a miracle, Bucky thinks, as he turns onto Brushy Fork Holler Road. Jean’s out in her front yard gardening, and he raises two fingers up off the wheel to say hi, slowing in case she’s got something to say, but she just waves and looks back down to her precious rose bushes. Sometimes Bucky thinks she spends more time fussing over her flowers than Bucky does raising five kids, but to each their own. Looks pretty, anyway. 

Then it's just another minute until he hears the crunch of gravel under his truck tires and he's looking at the house he's lived in his whole life. 

The house is quiet when he climbs out of the truck in the driveway. No one’s expecting him, so that ain’t a surprise. The girls are probably down at the swimming hole or playing video games at Maria and Monica’s. He kicks off his boots on the front porch and goes prowling through the house. He grins when he hears Steve singing from the laundry room. 

Steve’s singing is—well, the thing is, if Steve was good at everything, that just wouldn’t be fair, now would it? Steve’s a great strategist on this pipeline shit; he’s been such a help to Bucky on his quest to stop the fucking thing. He has a great head for the lawyer stuff and the activist strategy side of it. He’s learning how to cook and getting real good at it. He’s obviously a gifted artist, as everyone knows, and he’s fucking nice as hell too. The girls love him, and they are a tough audience. 

And, well, he has other skills Bucky ain’t shouting to the world about, that’s private, but Bucky sure ain’t got nothing to complain about. When it comes to the bedroom, Steve’s a god damn prodigy, Bucky thinks with a shiver of pleasure down his spine. Steven Brooklyn Grant God Damn Rogers. 

So it just makes sense that Steve would have a few faults, and that's the most charitable thing Bucky can say about Steve’s singing. Steve couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket—hell, he couldn’t carry a tune in a semi-truck full of buckets. He’d flip that semi right over, highway’d be backed up and on fire from here to Timbuktu. 

Which is why Bucky’s at the door of the laundry room before he can piece together what song Steve’s torturing to within an inch of its life. It’s the fucking Dixie Chicks. Or just the Chicks now, whatever. Steve is obediently wearing the headphones Becca told him to wear at the risk of death if she had to hear “that atonal screeching you call music one more fucking time" and so he has no idea how loud he’s “singing”—honestly, it ain’t anything Bucky’d categorize as singing, but there are words and they are carrying through the door. 

I wanna walk and not runI wanna skip and not fallI wanna look at the horizon and not see a building standing tallI wanna be the only one for miles and milesExcept for maybe you and your simple smile

Bucky feels a slow sly smile stretch across his face and pulls the door open. Steve’s singing a country music love song. Steve's facing away from him, wearing just a pair of boxer briefs and a loose black t-shirt. Bucky sees Steve's pants are in the sink; he must have gotten paint on them and taken them off to soak. 

Steve's got one hand wide to the side like he's balancing on a tightrope and the other is painting some kind of white accent on a flower. He makes it look so easy, light movements bringing life wherever Steve touches.

Cowboy taaaaake me awaaaaayyy

Steve caterwauls to his flowers, and Bucky can't take the suspense anymore. He waits until the paintbrush is a safe distance from the canvas, then slips his arms around Steve's slender waist and lowers his lips to Steve's neck. Steve jumps with a little shout and whirls around, dropping his paintbrush. He jerks his earbuds out. 

"You're early!" Steve gasps. He's blushing something fierce.

"Who's this cowboy you're singing about running away with, and should I be jealous?" Bucky whispers into Steve's smooth, pretty neck. He gives a small kiss. "Don't tell me I gotta fight a cowboy for your honor. I ain't much with a six-shooter, and I am kindly scared of horses."

"You're scared of horses?" Steve asks incredulously, always looking for something to direct the conversation away from his own feelings. 

"Maybe they're scared of me? Me and horses never had much opportunity to get to know each other, makes more sense to be scared of horses than chickens," Bucky says, and offers a few more kisses to Steve's neck. 

"Horses are majestic and chickens are evil,” Steve says darkly, and sighs, leaning into Bucky’s lips on his neck. “Hmm. Well, my cowboy is very handsome, you should definitely be jealous."

"Maybe I'll steal him away. I got lots of beans. Cowboys cain't resist a good bean."

"Well, my cowboy is good-looking but a bit slim in the brains department, so he might like you, actually." 

Bucky huffs a laugh into Steve's neck, and drops a few more kisses, running his mouth softly up and down Steve's neck. Steve suddenly busts out a loud laugh, which is not the reaction Bucky was going for. He'd been expecting more of Steve's little sighs. 

"What?" Bucky says in frustration, when Steve's still laughing. 

"Buh—" Steve can't hardly breathe for laughing. 

"Spit out whatever fool insult you've done come up with, then," Bucky says, a smile quirking up despite himself. Steve looks so fucking pleased, the jerk. 

"Buckaroo!" Steve manages to burst out with a wicked grin.

"Oh, hell no," Bucky says. "Nope. Absolutely not. I ain't a fucking cowboy." Steve's still laughing at him.

"That right, Buckarooooo?" he taunts. 

"I'm a hillbilly. It's different," Bucky says with a mock threat in his voice. 

"Okay, okay, so what do you have that my imaginary cowboy doesn't?" Steve smirks at him. Everything is a challenge with this guy. 

"Hmm, it's more of a show-don't-tell kinda thing," Bucky murmurs, moving back into Steve's space. "See, cowboys are all talk."

"So what are hillbillies?" Steve says, suddenly breathy, Bucky notes with satisfaction.

"Action, Stevie, we're about action."

It ain't but a second till Bucky's pulled out that sweet little sigh he wanted from Steve, and a whole symphony of pretty sounds after that.

#stucky au #stucky fanfic #Appalachian Bucky Barnes #Artist Steve Rogers #Drabble #Idiots in Love #sweet sappy lusting

[banana-ghouls]

This is my first time posting (and really writing) a little ficlet!! dew/aether ghoul main paring, with background ghoulette trio and swiss/rain (maybe/mountain too?) it was a plan to make it a longer fic i was gonna keep to myself, but i haven't taken it anywhere in a while so i thought i would post it here <3

beware this is unedited and i am tired so tags are mediocre atm :/

enemies to friends to lovers, with a little dew whump :0 the other ghouls don't get along with dew much atm, but that will change if i continue this (also if anyone want to write about this tag me in it so i can read it!!!)

Aether was… Everything. Not in the sense that he meant alot to Dew, but in the way that makes him want to peel his own skin off and start crushing heads. He was a lot; annoying, loud, overstimulating.

Aether was invasive, like a fungus. He had somehow ambled his way into the clergy from Hell, found his way onto Papa’s good side, and into Dewdrop’s PRIVATE room. Dew does not share. Ever. Not his food, not his weed, and not his bedroom on the tour bus. And he especially does not share these things with Aether.

Ever since he had joined the band he was an irritating thorn in Dew’s side; stealing his solos during practice, throwing picks at any ghoul that crossed his path- and the others’ loved him! The ghoulettes’ would paint his nails during their down-times while he chatted away and laughed at something Swiss had said. Even Mountain seemed to speak more than three words to him (And he didn’t even speak that much to Papa for fuck’s sake).

But yet, here the new guitarist was- poking around in his bunk, putting his things everywhere, filling the room with his scent- who does this idiot think he is?

Dew fought tooth and nail for this room (Literally, blood was shed and Rain still won’t look him in the eye), so why is he not jerking off in the privacy of his own room right now?

“Thanks for giving up the bottom bunk for me” Aether smiled over his shoulder as he placed his clothes in a drawer. 

“I didn’t give up shit for you” Dew growled, but Aether continued speaking over him as if the smaller ghoul hadn’t spoken at all.

“I know the others liked rooming in groups, so I don’t think they mean anything by leaving you alone, but I just thought-”

“They did mean it!” Dew snapped his teeth in a snarl, and Aether glanced up in surprise. Realising he may take it the wrong way, Dew’s face heated and he ground out “I made them give me this room so I could be alone. And yet here you are, messing up my silence.”

A swell of vindication filled his chest at Aethers’ staggered look, but then he laughed, “Oh, did Papa make you room with me, then? He probably couldn’t figure out how to fit four Ghouls’ to a bed, and the Ghoulettes’ get crazy at night- so I’ve heard.”

His snort gets on Dew’s nerves, and his ears turn even redder in frustration. Does this lug not get the hint? How dense can one Ghoul be?

“I don’t want you here,” Dew is borderline snarling now, “I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

“Well that’s too bad, isn’t it” Aether smirks, “because I’m performing with you for the next month. I mean, it doesn’t look like you have much of a choice, what Papa says, goes, afterall.”

That smug bastard, Dew can’t handle it any more- swear to Satan he’s going to start gouging that fucker’s eyeballs out as soon as he figures out how to reach them (and Jesus can’t Papa just hire more ghouls’ his height?)- but Swiss swings his way into the door frame.

“We’re setting up strip Uno in the front, and Papa said we can drink so long as we don’t throw up when we reach the Venue tomorrow” He directs at Aether, then glances in Dews direction with a falter. “You can come too. If you want.”

Dew can tell he doesn’t really mean it, only saying it because he doesn’t want to make things awkward. Swiss never did forgive him for his boyfriend’s tail, but it was Rain’s fault for swinging it in his face in the first place (and Dew was not giving that room up without a fight).

Rolling his eyes, Dew scoffs at him and turns to the back of the room to assess the damage to his space so far.

He can hear Swiss’s shrug and trot down the hallway, but Aether is oddly quiet in the corner.

“Are you gonna come down?”

Dew turns sharply, a little surprised. Aether couldn’t be this dense, no one is that blind to the other Ghouls' dislike of him. Did Papa even speak to him before he pledged into the band? Surely the others would have made a comment warning him about the smaller Ghoul.

“What do you think, Genius?”

Aether looks strange without his usual smile, and Dew doesn’t know why that makes his eyes sting, but before Dew can snarl at him (because fuck his pity, fucking asshole fucker, fucking fuck-) he concedes with an “Okay,” and turns to join the others.

Dew snarls and kicks over their bin when he hears the lounge door click shut. He rubs at his eyes, the snarls again at himself for fucking crying, because what the fuck? Dew doesn’t fucking cry. He’s not weak. He doesn’t care, doesn’t Aether get that? He never cares.

Dew throws himself onto his bed, curling up in the corner and staring at the wall. He ignores the laughter down the hall, and when Aether comes in hours later smelling like bourbon, he pretends to be asleep in the darkness, and ignores the soft goodnight that comes out below him too.

#dewdrop ghoul #dewther #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss/rain #nameless ghouls #ghoulette #aether ghoul #papa emeritus iv #hurt dew #aether x dewdrop

[plantbasedmagic]

I wasn't able to draw since I'm on ✨Summer Holidays✨ so have some old brainrot about my kitties 😌

From the top!!

Silent'Chaser - Born outside of the clan, at first was a loner after her mother died shortly after she was old enough to live on her own. Lived closely on territories of Clan of Shining moon, in an old fox den that was decorated with herbs, and animal furs. Silent was a cat with a gift of prophecy, and a strong one at that, as those often hurt her so much she passed out. One day meet Illuminated paw who at first talked with her just because he was bored but later just because he wanted to, because he liked her. After maybe a moon of meetings, illuminated was found with her, by Frog'Paw (His ex-crush) his mentor, Hawk'Flight and his best friend, Sunny'Paw. Silent was offered to join the clan, which she did, for Illuminated. Thanks to her abilities she was able to finish her training along with Illuminated'Path, Sunny'Leap, Clover'Flame, Sky'Stone and Frog'Hop.

Illuminated path - Born outside of the clan, yet adopted by a Dame known back then as Maple'Wing, making him siblings with Night'Venegance. Born with gift of light, allowing him to clearly see in the dark, yes dsrk'vision 100%. Even his adopted mother didn't last too long, as she also left the clan, rather happily if I say so. Most of his kithood was spent playing with frog and night. After his app ceremony he and Frog'Paw started to get close, which unfortunately or not, didn't last too long as silent came into the image. At first only his fix for boredom later became his lovely mate. During battle against Mouse'Moon confessed to Silent'Chaser before their presumed "Death". They are living their happily ever afters 😌

Maple - originally from clan of rising sun, sister to Dark'Rise (tail) born with a rather weird ability where she could freely see, talk with and feel star clan cats. During her apprenticeship was caught by a wild gang of dogs led by a rather unfriendly dog named Seshi. Maple'Paw stayed with them for quite a long time, as no one seemed to look for her, when she was found she had a broken back leg. Along with a funny and rather nice two dogs from the bottom of the chain, named Nala and Nyx, she managed to befriend the dogs and even become one of them, fluently speaking both dog and cat language. Maple'Paw became the healer of the dogs, as the starclan allowed her to help them. One unfortunate night Seshi was shot by a two leg, Maple managed to only take out a bullet but tame the blood loss.

When maple was around 20 moons old, she left the pack for a short while, where she found a mate for herself, called Grey'Storm. After she had his kits though, she left again, finding a very lost and cute Molly named sage, whom she took to the pack, as her new mate.

Sage - kit born during the last generation of the lost tribe called Tribe of hunting hawk. Her father was the leader of the clan, yet, he still was weak. During a fire in the nearby forest, he took her and ran away, outside of the mountains. He took care of her for months in one of the caves, before he finally died, loving her to wander the close by forest alone. Untill she met maple.

Grey storm - I don't have much to say about him other then the fact that he was a good father, and I'm glad Night and Illuminated had him.

Night venegance - also had the same gift as her mother, and also lost it because of a prophecy. Was pretty naive, and never noticed the abuse her mate had on her kits untill it was too late. Still mad at whisper for leaving the clan and mating with a "savage" but she still loves her, and loves her grandchildren. Was born without powers, just like her father, other them the ghost seeing stuff

Grey whisker - Mmmmm...Manipulative old fuck, how fun. At first was supposed to be much older then night but the difference made me quite uncomfy so he's just a manipultor now. Tried to sell his children (Only whisper and Gildia(back then doe)) to the cult hes working for, as a way to redeem himself. Only manipulated his children worse and didn't manage to redeem herself. How fun. After Night caught on, he was thrown away from the clan and is on the lowest position in the cult. Also has no powers.

Gildia - My favourite murder champion 😌 after being thrown away by her father, she was found by an unknown tom who called himself Flame'wind and trained to be a murder machine to stop the clans. Her power exists actually, and it allows her to gain keen her senses after tasting blood, the more she tastes the stronger she gates, but also gets weaker faster and has to rest for a longer period of time. So she doesn't really use it. Surprise or not, she killed her mentor and then Dream'Catcher! Leader of the cult of stars! Oh she found them! And gave them a home. Gildia soon became quite peculiar, becoming her second on command, and destroying life of her father, who now was stuck under her command.

Alex - also my beloved 😌 born from illegal couple she was living her life in clan of the Rising Sun, and because her power, aka electricity generation, was quite a powerful one she was often sent as a first meat to destroy everyone. After one uneventful evening she met gildia, they started to talk, and soon? She ran away. Joined the cult as Gildia's pair, and finally felt what life was. Oh how cute 🥰.

That's all for now

#art #my oc art #oc art #drawing #oc #oc tag #digital art #artwork #warrior cats #warrior cats oc #my own story #the whispering stars

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (713): Wed 28th Feb 2024

Spent the day binging more of the Comedy Central run of Futurama and it's striking how much the quality of the gags improved during this first revival. Futurama was always a funny show but it feels like every episode post-revival has had at least one laugh out loud moment. My favourite episode so far from seasons six to eight is from the episode The Late Phillip J Fry where Fry, Bender and the Professor are travelling forwards in time to look for a civilization that has invented a backwards time machine so they can return to the year 3007. They stop off at a year where the robots have taken over, killed all the humans and arranged all their decayed skulls and bones into monuments and mountains. Fry and the Professor sensing the threat quickly propel the trio forwards in time and land in a time period where beautiful women have taken over and have also invented a backwards time machine. However Bender, annoyed at his co-workers for taking them away from the robot rules time period, propels them even further into the future. When Fry angrily reminds Bender that the women had what they were looking for Bender replies "The robot world had some nice things too. Did you even see that mountain of skulls?". It's a beautifully, well layered and superbly written scenario with an incredibly payoff and Futurama has been full of moments like this since it came back after those braindead fuckwits at FOX cancelled them. I don't know if this is due to a shakeup and influx of new / additional writers or maybe on Fox there were certain people who were preventing certain jokes from making it on screen. It might also be that during the four years that the show was off the air the writers had more time to come up with ideas should the show ever return and didnt have the pressure of constant looming deadlines. Whatever the reason for the improvement I'm glad it happened as the world is definitely a happier place when some Futurama is around and I can't wait to see this latest revived series. I re-watched the documentary movie Super Size Me where journalist / sex pest Morgan Sperlock undertakes an "experiment" to see what will happen to him if he eats nothing but McDonalds for 30 days. Personally I don't understand how this ever got greenlit because if somebody pitched to me that they wanted me to give them a load of money so they could document the consequences of eating unhealthy food and refraining from exercise for a month I would more than likely say "Well you'll probably get really fat". You don't need to make a movie to show people that eating too many Big Macs will make you gain weight. Does he expect McDonalds to start following the casino method of having all their customers select the maximum amount they are allowed to spend every week / month / year. I'm aware of how unhealthy the food from McDonalds is but I dare say that if you decide to eat exclusively only one kind of food for an entire month it will more than likely fuck you up (unless it was grapefruit, that would probably finish you off after about three days). Maybe the reason Spurlock wanted to make the documentary was because he was so broke that he couldn't afford food and he figured that convincing a movie studio that Super Sized Me could function as an important societal study would allow him to stuff his face for an entire month. A few years ago Spurlock admitted to inappropriate sexual behavior and hasn't really worked since but it was never divulged what the inappropriate behavior was. My guess is that consuming so much McDonalds has affected his mental state so much that he forces his lovers to dress up as Ronald McDonald while he fucks them.

[tragcdysewn]

was that bai lu? oh no no, that was just li susu, a canon character from till the end of the moon. they are twenty six years old, use she/her, and are aware that they are not actually from washington dc. too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

how long has your character been here:

about two months now

what is your character’s job:

she’s working as a private security agent

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom:

right now, the first episode, right after time traveling, but that will probably change in like a week when the finale airs so

has any magic affected your character:

just taking a chunk of her memories away

bonus info:

okay so li susu has got some TRAUMA babey. she comes from an immortal sect in the mountains, and watched basically the entire sect, including her father and uncle, be slaughtered by the devil god, tantai jin. during the final fight, she found an artifact said to be able to lead to his destruction, left behind by the god of time. using that artifact and some other ancient magic, she goes back in time 500 years to destroy the source of his power and kill him, transmigrating into the body of ye xiwu (this is only possible because ye xiwu is actually her too, but we’ll get to that later) who, as it turns out, is both the worst person alive, and tantai jin’s beloathed wife. she proceeds to immediately make some incredibly questionable decisions, such as seeing that ye xiwu forced her husband to kneel in the snow for days and just leaving him there because she’s pissed he's going to kill her family in the future. she does, however, eventually realize that ‘hey maybe he went apeshit not bc of destiny, but because everyone just treats him like absolute shit’ and shows him the first bit of genuine kindness man has gotten since like... infancy. she lies to him that she’s fallen for him and that’s why she’s different now, and then actually does fall for him and is kind of pissed off about it. 

they proceed to not communicate at all about anything ever because they’re both idiots, culminating in her shooting six spikes into his heart on their wedding night because she thinks he committed some murders he did not commit and is truly irredeemable. she does not manage to actually kill him this way, he’s understandably pissed the fuck off, and she ends up in confinement, where the actual murderer confesses and causes her to have the biggest ‘i am a moron’ realization ever. she eventually dies to take tantai jin’s evil bone (i swear to god that’s what it’s called they keep talking about his bone being in her and i’m too immature for this shit) from him so he doesn’t have to become the devil god.

upon dying, she transmigrates back into her real body, in a much different future than the one she left, and realizes that while she did fix that problem, she still has the evil bone in her (lol), and needs to find a way to get rid of it. surprise surprise before she can do this tantai jin shows up like hello i have actually been looking for ur soul for 500 years, and she has a whole breakdown. it’s then revealed she’s adopted and is actually the daughter of the lord of evil and a phoenix goddess. she handles this better than literally all of her other drama, even though objectively it’s the one i think i would be the most upset about. and with how phoenixes work, their soul needs to go through trials before they can be fully born, hence ye xiwu being the worst person alive, as she was all the worst parts of li susu. 

she’s an absolute icon who fights with a HARP (that’s actually her dead mom’s spirit but we’re not touching on that it’s complicated) and while she can be a complete and utter moron sometimes, she’s always determined to do what she thinks is the right thing, even if it will hurt her in the long run. she’s very much a ‘for the greater good’ kind of bitch, but mostly only when ‘for the greater good’ involves self sacrifice she definitely struggles with the ‘kill one person to save many’ part of that ideal. i will finish this when the show is done but she’s a badass and an idiot and i adore her while also constantly questioning every choice she makes

#( && old intro ) #murder mention tw #death mention tw #till the end of the moon spoilers if u have any intention of watching it simply don't read this thank u #bc this is basically a plot summary #this is also one of my fave intro graphics ever and i just need you all to knwo that

[pop-punklouis]

Hi Hopeee 💗

Sorry I missed a couple days (oops) been really busy!! Oooh I wanna say I wish I were you (like doing things WAYYY in advance instead of at the last minute) but I can also see how stressful and annoying that tendency can be. Both the extremes suck 😩

Re: shows, I mean, I just think it's ways of trying to cram our brains with content so you have something to do, y'know? And as for stranger things, I see your point about they should've stuck to original lore but I also kinda like all the stuff they brought in, it was a little messy but it also felt huge and in some ways it seemed to tie up with the rest of the lore for me so I quite liked it. Even if it's a little bit of an extreme leap. I need them to make more black mirror and I'll deffo get back to you when I watch midnight mass AND 1899.

Re pasta: I like all kinds of pasta dishes. We make a lot of creamy garlic penne pasta with chicken. We also kinda just modify it a lot sometimes to fit our own cultural tastes and make it spicy. It's just good no matter what.

Masters in film and media sounds so cool! And it's totally okay and valid to not have any really future plans rn, I've been there tons and I still don't really know what I actually wanna do. You deserve a couple months rest! I'm sure you'll find the right fields in it's own time and I hope you find all the opportunities you desire! There's time, and you'll get there 💗 working in an antique sounds like THE life tbh. A small, simple life.

My weeks been okay! Busy with work and other events but also yes, definitely been Christmas shopping and stressing over gifts and them getting here in time rip I should've done this earlier 😩 we did however have our tree decorated since Dec 1st I think? Maybe earlier? Dunno. Hope you've been having a good couple days!

For today's question: if you could pick a color palette (or a bunch of colors) that you feel captures you/your vibe, what would they be? Feel free to include pictures of the colors if you want!

Sending you much love and the bestest vibes 💫

~🌱

no worries bb!!! it’s been such a busy time for me too so i’m just tryna find time relax in the middle of all the holiday season 🤧

re: shows. i think i just really fucking hate the vecna character as a villian he’s so lame and i wish they didn’t try and make it where he was the main dude of the upside down and created all of the monsters we’ve come to know throughout the seasons like mind flayer baby i’m SO sorry they did this to you :/ in my mind stranger things canonically ended after season 2 and these are just bonus seasons for fun fjfkfkfk but yes please can’t wait for you to watch those shows 👐🏼

re: pasta. oooo that sounds super good honestly. i love any kind of pasta that throws chicken in fr i just love chicken. i need to start cooking more. i baked a lot during the pandemic but got away from that too rip

re: degree. yeahhhhh i’ve done so much in my field and nothing has really jumped out at me but i’m a big believer in trusting your own timeline and just trying not to stress too much about the unknown (even though as a capricorn that’s so hard 💀) one day i aspire to be a mountain mama who owns an antique store. truly the only life i want at this point i’m tired of the rest rip but thank you for the words of encouragement it’s very kind of you 💕

godddd christmas shopping is gonna kill me i think lol my whole family just thought we had more time and all of a sudden it’s the week before christmas and we were scrambling to get gifts and paying for expedited shipping so they arrive on time 💀 i feel like the family on home alone the day they leave for vacation but instead. it’s just us trying to christmas shop. and i love that about the tree! do you guys have a fake or real one? this is the first year i’ve ever known us to have a fake one. the real ones were just super expensive this year which made me sad :/ christmas never feels the same if we don’t have the smell of a real tree in our living room 🤧

and oooo i think earthy colors are a big one for me. olive greens. burnt sienna. browns. taupe. but also i love pastels like lavender or powder pink or jade green etc. it’s definitely depending on mood i think lol how about you? ✨👁

and i hope you have a great day yourself babe!! x

#grey #holiday pal 1

[sawyingthroughthewasteland]

Sawyer Lockwood’s Backstory pt. 1

Hi! It’s me again, once again trying to explain this bitch’s entire story. There’s a lot, and normally I either have it all organized in a long bullet list or pinned in DMs to my co-author but alas- I feel like everyone should know his story at this point given I’ll probably never finish every single fic I want to write sadly. Ah well, I’ll at least try to make his story somewhat understandable. If this shit is too long for you and you want to speedrun my story, his master post for reference is here. 

Pre-Fallout (Note: NOT pre-war)

Yeah so maybe a year or two before I fell in love with fallout, I had a beloved dnd character that I played as in a campaign where I worked heavily with the DM and helped sometimes with worldbuilding. His name was Sawyer Belmont and was an oath of devotion paladin. His backstory is a bit complicated as with all my OCs that I’m able to hyperfixate on for more than a few months but long story short- in his past was a high ranking demonic warlock. Something happened and a year before the campaign started he woke up in a small town, heavily scarred with absolutely no memory of who he was with a small voice in his head. His voice was a demon named Zariel (no, not that one. I literally googled ‘demon names’ and chose one, literally months later WotC released Baldur’s Gate so fuck me ig). Said demon was essentially the only thing that kept him alive but he quickly strived to stay humane despite his circumstances and prevent Zariel from ever taking over again. 

How does this relate to Sawyer Lockwood?  Well the campaign was ended abruptly and so I was never able to finish his story which,,, was a big blow to me as a person who had written a ton for him. To cope, I used his name when it came to video games in his memory and almost as a way to try to finish his story? I guess? Used him for Elder Scrolls, Skyrim, Dragon Age throughout the pandemic and when I started Fallout, I walked in expecting to play as him. Yeah I’d have to fuck with his backstory to make him fit but I plugged in his name, tried my best to make him look like old Sawyer did and off I went with a high CHA and STR build. 

And fucking hated melee. 

I love sniping, always have since borderlands so um,,, I eventually had him have some character changes then,,, then the fo4 story made him change more then,,, I min-maxed his SPECIAL and completely redid how he looked and,,, then I joined a server with others who had OCs and,,, 

welp. Here he is! Absolutely nothing like the OG Sawyer but we love him anyways. I suppose in the end in a way the old paladin Sawyer got to live on (I mean Lockwood does eventually become a,,, paladin,,, hm)?

Sawyer’s Parents

I won’t go too into detail because honestly it doesn’t effect him all too much/ he doesn’t remember a lot of it- but here we go. 

So Sawyer’s dad was a guy name Jared Lockwood (what? no. I’m not reusing characters what are you talking about -shoves RDO OC under rug-) who was a pretty successful horse breeder and jockey! His beloved horse was a thoroughbred named Brisket and retired from his racing days not long after he had met his wife and they were expecting a child. It wasn’t a lot of money that he made, but enough to buy them a small secluded ranch on top of a mountain in the middle of West Virginia where they raised sheep and chickens. The little bar room in the basement of said ranch house is actually dedicated to previous racehorses and are where he displayed his trophies from past races and such. 

However, when Sawyer was maybe 5ish, as I write with the 1950s timeline version of fallout because I like writing stuff from that era don’t @ me, WW2 began. His father left for the navy, promising to return to his wife and kid after a few years and- yeah he went MIA somewhere in the ocean. Sawyer’s family never found out what really happened, but a good guess has to do with U-boats. Sawyer was fucking heartbroken, he loved his father and had been really close to him during the five years he had with him and was certainly quieter from then on.   

His mother, meanwhile, was Shay Lockwood. She’s straight from Ireland and a often was the anchor for her aloof husband. She was a very down to earth lady, loved farming and tending to their animals- but often was maybe a bit... harsh on Sawyer. Certainly didn’t help that she came from a catholic background and well... yeah

Sawyer’s Childhood 

Sawyer was an only child, and for the most part between daily chores- loved to study. He was a huge fucking nerd. His bedroom was constantly covered in sketches of his designs for machines, tools, and buildings. Additionally, growing up he stayed very close with his father’s horse, Brisket- often riding him to school and reading to him when he was younger. 

Growing up, due to his home’s secluded nature he never really had any close friends? Aside from a girl named Nora, who he was quite close with. In high school they’d actually dated once but while discovering their differing sexualities- things didn’t shake out but they still remained close. 

For the most part, he studied his heart out for all of high school and strived to place himself in a good engineering school to continue his studies. Unfortunately though around the time of getting ready for college- his mother developed cancer. This was rough for him for multiple reasons- she was the only family he was really aware of and not only that, they were in a rough standing with each other when things began to pick up and she got sicker and sicker. As Sawyer was slowly discovering himself in their small town, it was quickly becoming evident that he was most definitely queer- something that his mother disapproved of heavily. When she passed- it was without ever their relation ever being mended and Sawyer still kicks himself about it even a good 200 years later. 

He delayed college for two years or so afterwards, taking care of his farm and struggling to figure out what to do. He was the only one left, who knows what would happen to his childhood home if he ever left for too long. 

College Years 

With a heavy heart, eventually he decided to take a leap of faith and have a go at college again. Due to the gap years, he struggled getting financial support and was only able to make it through two years of civil engineering before his funds dried up. He was getting desperate at this point and in a hail Mary- joined the Navy for the G.I. Joe money when the Big War came around. 

Congrats on making it this far! Now onto the fun shit :)

Bootcamp arc (ft. Baron)

Long story short- Sawyer fucking hated being in the military lol, and for a while they hated him too. He was often subjected to beat ups and rude comments just because.. well he... he twink. It was during one of these beatings that someone swooped in and promptly handed his bully’s asses to them- a man named Baron Teague. 

He’s my friend’s OC and honestly most of the stuff I write these days is between these two (affectionately called ‘Bawyer’). I have no idea if she’ll ever make her own tumblr and write about him on here but I’ll try to give a long story short for him. He’s from a military family down in North Carolina, joined the air force fresh out of high school and when he met Sawyer, was well on his way to officer school. (why were they at the same base? story reasons that’s why) 

The two quickly hit it off, Baron often lending the man a hand and Sawyer questioning the tiny sliver of heterosexuality he had left in him every time the buff guy ran by in silkies. Eventually it uh,,, turned into a romance between the two when they had the chance between drills, then Sawyer took him home one break and Baron started inviting him to holidays with his family back in NC and well, you get the picture. They gay. I’ll link the fics when I get the chance, but most described above has been written lol. 

Lancer Program 

Okay so this is where I kinda went crazy with homebrewing but whatever its my writing world I do what I want with my toys you know

So. In my uuuh universe? I guess? There was a program pre-Liberty Prime. This program was bleeding edge technology, taking the grand scale of Liberty Prime and the intelligence of the brightest AI at the time and combined it with the maneuverability and skills of a human pilot much like the power armor. It was a super secret thing and was a very small department and in order to get in required vigorous tests of intelligence and creativity rather than the usual strength. 

Pacific Rim- like with a splash of Titanfall and Neon Genesis, these mechs would have a neural link with their pilots and with the pilot and AI combined were able to carry out complex and highly effective maneuvers. This was of course, assuming that the two got along well and the pilot was quick enough to be able to fix any coding issues on the fly with merely their voice commands. Super vigorous, super high tech, yada yada yada..

With a whooping STR of 2 and an INT of 10, Sawyer gladly applied and made it into the program. He was Lancer Unit 02 and excelled in his training. 

The AI later becomes their own character but that will have to come in a different post, which will be linked here when I get to it ;)

It wasn’t until it was almost time for deployment that Baron finally found out about the Lancer Program and Sawyer’s involvement in it.

Quickie Won’t Hurt ;)

Almost forgot lol, so not long after serving some time Sawyer definitely suspected he’s gay. He wasn’t entirely sure though and so in a series of poor decisions while drunk with his close friend Nora,,,, they uh,,,, yep. 

He didn’t find out about Shaun until looong after he’d come home from the war. Lol whoops haha god Nora I am so fucking sorry 

On the Field    

Around the same time that Stg. Baron was deployed to Alaska was the same time that Sawyer’s program was finally being deployed onto the field in [redacted]. The two had a heartfelt goodbye, swapped dogtags affectionately (this will be important in Baron’s story), before going their own separate ways.

The Lancer Program, with how small that it was and how far they were being sent, all loaded into a giant aircraft carrier and sailed off into the sea. 

They didn’t make it far. 

Somewhere in the Pacific, the ship was hit and sank so quickly there wasn’t enough time to usher everyone to lifeboats and almost all lives were lost on that ship along with most Lancer technology (hence why most prewar and ‘modern’ tech isn’t nearly as advance as the Lancer Program’s yet some ideas would be carried over to the making of Liberty Prime and PA suits). 

So uh, Sawyer. As a person who had just left his really... only friend, had been bored out his mind during the trip and did what most do when bored- and had taken a nice nap in his mech that he was neutrally linked to.

Woke up to alarms blazing, the AI panicking, and the entire ship hundreds of feet underwater and his entire squad around him dead and floating in the water around him. 

He doesn’t have much memory about how he even managed to get out of that situation because it thoroughly fucked him up. 

Baron meanwhile dropped everything when a truck rolled up with a compressed and crushed Lancer Unit 3 on it, being ordered to destroy it to preserve government secrets. 

Parsons State Insane Asylum    

For the following year after that, Sawyer spent his entire time in Parsons as a broken man. He’d been moved to Boston after his record had listed only Nora and Baron at the closest he had to family. With Baron deployed in Alaska, he was sent to be near Nora has he recovered while she was dealing with her own problems. 

The last time Baron saw Sawyer before the nukes fell was the asylum, hardly able to speak a word and shaken to his core from what he saw down there (fic about it to be linked here). It certainly didn’t help that this was also the time that Nora couldn’t hide her pregnancy anymore and her family started asking Questions. 

The follow year was a blur for him, stumbling through treatment and slowly becoming somewhat functional again. During that time he could vaguely recall marrying Nora and them settling on a house in a place called Sanctuary but he wasn’t super lucid until close the time that the nukes fell. Link about the nukes actually falling linked here. 

Because this post is hella fucking long, the second part will be linked here! Hope y’all enjoy it so far and as always, feel free to send asks about him or me :)   

#long post #SttW #character backstory #character background #fallout OC #I'll add links as I finally post some of my writing hhhh #if part 2 isn't up by this weekend start rattling in my vents #everything in this lore dump series will be under SttW btw

[janedoe-ing]

pcos awareness month?

since september is a pcos awareness month, i feel like writing my experiences round it from the start, i don't know exactly where this is going but we'll just go with the flow.

so i first got my period when i was 9 (i know, it's SUPER early). at first we thought it was like an infection, UTI or as known as 'kencing kotor' because we did checked it with a doctor and at the same time i was having that lol. but my mom also wasn't really sure if i really got my period, and ofc me being clueless than ever, just thought it was nothing and maybe just a false alarm. but then it turns out it was a REAL period moment lol, we were just confused.

started having my boobs and shit grow at 10, to the point where most of my friends are still flat as shit but i'm having like two gigantic mountains on my body, which are hurting my back and making my back hunching most of the time, since i was pretty embarrassed most of the part. i remember being laughed at for having boobs lmao. anyways it first came when i was 9, then it just somehow, never came again?

until i was 11 or 12 (can't really remember), but i finally had my period again. it wasn't as often as everyone else, but i had some, every month, then maybe every 2-3 months, but it is still coming. i thought maybe my body was still trying to regulate my hormones and shit because living in a girls school for five years, most of my friends have already known their cycle, when they start, when they end, how long do they bleed, but i just, don't know.

it was pretty confusing as a 13 year old trying to figure out what the hell i'm going to do with my life and at the same time why my body just doesn't work the same way as everybody else's. all in all, i just kept quiet and just followed with the flow. if the period is coming then it is, if it doesn't, well then it is that too lol. also i started noticing my face kept having these acnes and shit very often, i thought maybe it was just my hormones fucking up my body, but at the same time i was thinking was it my lifestyle? am i stressed at school? did i ate the wrong stuff? do i have a sensitive-acne prone skin? did i use the wrong skincare? or do i need more skincare? but i just pushed that aside and pretty much ignored it since girlie is just trying to survive over here yall in this mf school.

although most of the time i ignored it because maybe it was all related to i-was-stressed-and-tired-in-school reason, but somehow i always wondered why do i keep having acnes almost most of the time on my face (it's not many, or severe, but it's just most of the time THERE or they're just alternating their shifts and places lol), and why do i know almost nothing about my body. i mean physically yes, but inside? not really. i was most of the time tired, have trouble in sleeping either too much or too little, acnes on my face AND all over my back, i have all these body hairs that kept growing to the point it looks like men's, sometimes having asthma attacks or just short breaths, and all other shit.

2018, during raya, i was 15, i was bleeding like HELLA A LOT OF BLOOD. like i think every 30 mins i was changing those night pads and i kept bleeding and ruining my clothes everywhere for two freaking months. i lost so much blood that my aunt decided to bought me some haemoglobin pills because i looked like a vampire (finally a cullen i guess). when i was 16 and 17, i think i only bled twice or thrice, a year.

throughout the age of 13-16, most of the time when i was at home is just the time for my mom to bring me to all clinics available around kl, to check why i was not having my period. most of the doctors said that maybe i was not eating well (since im a picky eater), i was okay but maybe i was stressed and other stuff which somehow doesn't make sense to apply in my condition. like i KNOW something is wrong with my body, but all these doctors kept giving me diagnosis that just doesn't fit me. we spent a lot of money too. 16, and i still haven't got my period for like 9 months? my aunt suggested this one clinic specialised in OBGYN. went there with my mom, met dr andi.

she asked about my period cycle and all the other stuff, did an ultrasound and here it is. finally. a diagnosis that make sense. i was diagnosed with PCOS. was clueless about what it was, read some stuff on the internet, read about the symptoms and voila. finally all those acnes, asthma, tiredness and other shit i was going through were explained. finally, i felt relieved, to know what was going on with me. but the suffering didn't really end there, the challenge is basically me dealing with the symptoms.

the thing is, i can't really cure it. there's only a few options, but only to treat the symptoms. for instance, the symptoms are weight gain, so i need to eat healthier and exercise bla bla bla bla. i need to lose weight, i need to control my sugar intake more since i have higher chances to get diabetes and all the other shitty diseases, and bla bla bla. it's just hard basically. you did not want to read me writing a longer post ranting about this shit lmao. but yeah it is a never ending struggle, and the options i have are exercise and eat healthier OR birth control pills, to induce my period. yikes. but still, i can't consume my birth control pills daily, i can only consume it for every time i want to induce my period only which is two weeks before the date i want it to happen. it just, sucks.

now, since i pretty much stayed at home and doesn't really walk as much as i did when i was in school, ofc i gained weight, from 48 to the last time i checked which was last year? lol i was 53, and i am pretty much sure that i am gaining a lot more since then. i used to not really care about what i ate, or how much i ate. most of my friends even knew me for having saka since i ate A LOT when my favourite food at the dm were served. 3 full plates of nasi are almost nothing to me. but now it's different, i ate something and i gain a shit ton of more weight. maybe i was not gaining weight during my high school phase due to the fact that i walked (which is somehow exercising) a lot per day? but anyways that was wayyyyyyy back then.

the most shitty thing is the fact that almost all the food that i can't eat, are the only food that i eat. like i have to avoid gluten, watch my sugar and salt intake, i can't eat fast food and a whole shit list of basically food that i can't consume. weh, kalau aku ikut betul betul list tu, memang confirm tinggal tulang je weh aku.

anyways this is basically a sum up of what i felt like over the years lol.

[spencer-reid-in-a-pool]

Never Just Friends

Anon Requested: Can I please request an oneshot of the female reader reacting to Jaskier’s FABULOUS and SEXY new look, after not seeing eachother within months with some romantic fluff/light smut too, please? thank you so much! 

Author’s Note: Dear anon...I just want to apologize in advance for how off the rails this fic went. It kind of got away from me and doesn’t quite follow your request, but I’m really proud of it and I hope you will like it nonetheless! If you don’t, please feel free to request another one and I will make sure I stay on track. 

*Contains implied smut, cursing, angst*

Disclaimer: I have only watched the Netflix show so I was not aware the mountain scene at the end and Jaskier and Geralt meeting in Posada for the first time was like 20 years apart until my friend told me when proofreading my fic. So...we’re just gonna pretend and enjoy my writing for what it is LMAO 

~

Every day was the same. It was so quiet in my own mind, but incredibly loud outside of it. Colorless. Callous. Smelly. 

Gods, I have to get out of here. Out of this tavern. Out of Posada.

The only positives about working in a tavern are the tips and the free drinks. But those aren’t reliable in the slightest. 

What I really wanted to do was write in my journal. It was the only thing keeping me grounded and sane these days. But with that being said, my entries are so much more dull now. Ever since he left. Gods know where he is. He never even told me why he left. Or where he was going. Or if I would ever see him again. Come to think of it, he never even said goodbye. I think...no. I know that’s what hurts the most. That’s what made my days drain of color. 

He was a burst of bright yellow sunshine on my bad days. In the cold and bleak winter months, he was the vivid green of the trees I missed so much. During the summer, he was a kaleidoscope of colors, reflecting the joy and serenity around him. His hues were rivaled only by the flowers he picked so carefully for me. 

Being in this gods-forsaken town was even worse on days like this. Days where all I can think about is him. It didn’t help when I heard people speak about him and his songs. Especially the one about the Witcher. He was getting so popular. I guess...I guess he made a new friend. One he would write songs about in public. The ones he wrote for me were always secret. Perhaps he had been ashamed of me all this time. Is that why he left with his new friend? 

Actually, I hadn’t heard much about him in the past few weeks. Was he even still with his Witcher? Had something bad happened to him? 

That last thought hurt to think about, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. A whole group of people were making their way into the tavern and I had to serve them. 

Fuck. 

~

On feet that felt as if they were about to burst, I made my way down the street to my house. The weather was starting to turn, causing me to shiver. Even so, I walked through the silent, empty streets on bare feet. He used to make me walk bare foot whenever I was anxious about something. “Gotta remind yourself there’s ground under your feet, even if you feel like there isn’t,” he’d say. The memory brought a faint smile to my lips. 

I stopped in my tracks unintentionally. My shoes felt like a ton of bricks in my hand, and my grip on them tightened. 

“You dick,” I whispered into the night. 

I thought I would feel better by releasing a little of my pent up anger, but it only made me feel stupid. And before I knew what I was doing, I started walking again. I wasn’t sure where I was going, or why I was doing it, but I couldn’t stand still. My thoughts came too easily when I was still. At least when I was walking I could concentrate on where I was putting my feet to fend off any thoughts. 

Some time passed. Minutes, hours maybe? I’m really not sure. All I knew now was that I was in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. Nice. 

I came to a stop and looked around. It did look familiar around here. Something tells me I have been here before, but I can’t put my finger on it. 

I slipped my shoes back on my almost numb feet, and tried to look around again, more in depth this time. There was a stream a few feet away from me. To the left there was a large tree, with great branches adorned in bushy green leaves. A few were starting to become orange. It was slightly curved, and it occurred to me that it looked like a nice place to sit and lean back. So I did just that. 

It was pretty secluded and quiet, which I also liked. It was a ways out of town, just inside the woods. From here, Posada looked miles away and so close at the same time. 

A few feet away from where I sat against the big tree next to the stream, there was a patch of flowers. Not a single one of them were wilted or brown at all. And it was the only patch like that around. 

“How odd,” I whispered. 

I made my way over on my hands and knees, my feet too tired to take another step. As I came closer, I realized they were daisies. And then it hit me like a punch in the gut. 

I knew where I was. This was our spot. Our spot. These were our flowers. He picked them for me every time we came here, and they always grew back fully by the next day. We never did understand it. 

“Maybe it’s magic,” I had told him the first time we returned to see all the flowers had grown back. It had only been about twenty-four hours. 

“Mmmm, I don’t see how a place like this could be magic. We’re just in the woods, (Y/N).”

“Maybe we make it magic.”

From then on, it had become our spot. We would come here to talk, to read, write, play music, dance. Anything we wanted. And no one else ever bothered us here. 

My eyes filled with hot tears and I felt winded in the blink of an eye. How did I not notice where I had ended up? Was I so lost in my own thoughts that I wasn’t truly seeing what was around me? 

My arms gave out from under me, and I fell to the ground. I didn’t care. I was so tired. So tired. And the last thing I remember thinking before falling asleep there on the cold, hard ground was “How stupid am I?”

~

When I woke up, I felt more rested than I thought I would. It was daylight and the birds were chirping above me. It was almost relaxing. 

As I came to, I sat up and tried to straighten my hair and dress the best I could. Hopefully I didn’t look too bad. I stood up, stretched, and started making my way out of the little clearing full of our flowers. But something stopped me. A lute. I heard a lute. 

“Great,” I muttered to myself, “Now I’m hallucinating too. I suppose it’s what I get for sleeping on the forest floor.”

I started walking again and emerged from behind the line of trees to see our spot. From where I stood, the big tree was directly in front of me. But I could see legs and the edge of a lute from behind it. Someone was...in our spot. I thought we were the only ones that knew about it. 

My heart fell through the bottom of my chest as I stood there, listening. Before I knew what I was doing, I removed my shoes and placed my feet gently on the ground. I was more than anxious. I was angry. I was hurt. 

I never wanted anyone else to sit there. 

I took a few determined steps towards the person behind the tree before stopping again. I recognized the song. But only two people in the whole world would know that song. Me and him. Only us. So how did this person know it? Did this person know where he was?

In my mind, I decided to confront the person. But my body wouldn’t follow. I stood still, listening to the song as it finished. At first I was angry, but now I was more comforted than anything. It filled in a little piece of my heart that he had stolen away when he left. 

Once it was finished, I made my way over and decided to sit on the other side of the tree. I didn’t feel like making any new friends today. This way they wouldn’t see me and I wouldn’t see them, but I could still listen if any more songs were played. 

I didn’t say anything as I sat there. I don’t think they noticed me, either. 

The person sighed, and I heard them shift their weight around. By the edge of the tree, I could see the lute resting against the trunk. It seemed like they were deep in thought. 

“I’m sorry,” the person said quietly to the air. It was a man’s voice.

“Gods, I never should have left. Never should have left you here. If I ever see you again, I’ll fall to my knees in apology. Anything you want...”

The man trailed off and I heard a quiet sniffle. Funny, it almost sounded like him. I must really be hallucinating now. 

“I hope you can hear me, wherever you are (Y/N). I miss you. Gods, how I miss you.” 

He knew my name too? Can hallucinations be this advanced?

“I wrote more songs for you. I sang them all over the Continent in hopes you would hear them. Did you know they were for you?” 

My heart started slamming against my chest in a frenzy. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no way. I must still be asleep. 

Before I heard anything else, I gathered myself, shoes in hand, and stood up to go. Quietly, I started walking away. Hopefully this would just be a fleeting moment in my memory. One of no importance, because I can’t take thinking about who this man is anymore. There’s no way.

Once I was farther away, and I made sure he didn’t hear me leave, I turned around to look at the man. His back was facing me, but I could still see the gist of him. Chin-length brown hair, dark purple jacket laid against broad shoulders. Peeking out from the jacket sleeves were frilly white sleeves from his undershirt. And on his hand that was resting against the tree was a ring. That ring made me clench my shoes until my knuckles turned white. 

I couldn’t take this anymore. 

In a hurry, I trudged over to the man, feeling the ground against the bottoms of my feet as tears started to flow down my face. Before thinking about it, I reached out my free hand and shoved him with all my might. 

“Who are you?!” I yelled. “And how do you know those songs?”

The last part came out as more of a pained whisper, but no matter. I had obviously gotten the man’s attention. He stood up and whipped around to face me head on, mouth open to say something. But no words came. I saw his eyes widen and his lip tremble before he took a step towards me. 

I backed away. It looked like him, but it couldn’t be him. He looked different yet the same. My imagination must be getting the better of me. 

“(Y/N),” he said. 

Hearing my name said by his voice sent a shock wave through me. I never thought I would hear it again. But it’s not really him, it’s my hallucination of him. 

“Stay away from me. I just want to go home. You’re just a hallucination.” 

Stumbling over his own feet, he took a few more steps towards me. I matched his speed as I backed away from him. 

“No, no! Please, listen. You’re not imagining me. I’m right here.” 

Another wave of molten tears fell over my cheeks and I turned away from him. determined to get back to town. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I had my fill. 

As I turned around, the man who looked like him but wasn’t him grabbed my arm tightly. This sent me over the edge. In a split second, I turned around and slapped my hand against his cheek with all my might. Surprisingly, he didn’t let go, even with the gigantic welt forming in the shape of my hand. 

“I deserved that. And more, if you want.”

I yanked my arm out of his grip and stood staring at him. It really did look like him. He was scruffier than before though. And of course his hair was longer. Whenever he grew it out like that before, I always said he reminded me of a...

“You look like a dandelion puff.”

There was a moment of silence, but then something unexpected happened. He cracked a smile. Crooked enough to make me weak in the knees, and it was then I knew. I knew it was really him. 

“Jaskier,” I whispered in a shaky voice. 

“Yes, yes it’s me. I’m here, and I promise I’m never leaving again.” 

Slowly, I reached out with my free hand and placed it against the puffy outline of my fingers on his cheek. 

“I- I’m sorry I hit you. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Darling, it’s alright,” he sighed and placed his hand over my own. 

In sync, just like we had always been, we leaned in and rested our foreheads against each other. My eyes fluttered shut and I took a deep breath, my body finally relaxing. 

“I can’t even begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you. How much I’ve missed us.”

I opened my eyes and leaned back just far enough to where we could see each other’s faces. 

“Us? But you made a new friend. I thought you had replaced me.”

Jaskier smirked and held my hand in his own, bringing it down by our sides. 

“You know damn well we were more than friends, (Y/N).”

A bush crept up from my neck into my cheeks and ears. 

“I wrote you songs. Songs that I only wanted you to hear. All my other songs I share with the world, but yours...they were more special than that. One thing in life I could keep private. But I knew how much you wanted to hear them in public. So I started singing them all over, hoping one day they would lead me to you. But after all that...we meet back here at this remote corner of the woods. Unbelievable.” 

“I told you this place was magic. You never did believe me.”

Jaskier smiled and looked at the ground before looking back up at me. 

“I think I believe you now.” 

Leftover tears spilled over, but they weren’t replaced by new ones this time. For that I was grateful. 

“Darling, your feet must be freezing! Why aren’t you wearing your shoes?”

His sudden outburst drew me out of my thoughts. I realized I was still barefoot. 

“Oh,” I said with a breathy laugh.

Reaching down, I slipped my shoes back on and looked back to Jaskier. 

“You once told me to take off my shoes when I was anxious. Remember?”

He smiled once again and took both of my hands this time. 

“Of course. I didn’t think you still did that.”

“Jaskier, it’s one of my favorite memories of us. And to this day it still helps me. It made me feel closer to you while you were gone.”

A sad look settled on his features. 

“I am so sorry. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll allow me.” 

This time, it was my turn to smile. 

“Well, you can start by renting us a room. Somewhere really nice and fancy. And then...”

As I trailed off, I reached up and gently rubbed my fingertips against his chin, before going down to his collar and fiddling with it absentmindedly. 

“I believe you made me a promise before you left. Do you remember what it was?” 

His hands made his way to my hips and he pulled me closer to him. 

“Mmm, remind me, love.”

“I believe your exact words were: ‘Keep looking at me like that and I’ll show you another instrument I’m good at.’“

Jaskier laughed under his breath and wrapped his arms around me.

“That doesn’t sound like something ‘just friends’ do, darling.” 

I smirked up at him and grabbed onto his jacket. Everything around me was in color again. Just like old times.

“Good thing we were never just friends.” 

#the witcher #witcher #geralt #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier angst #jaskier fluff #dandelion #x reader #fic #ficlet #reader insert #series #angst #fluff #smut #jaskier smut #oneshot #moodboard

[illicitlimerence-writes]

best friend | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x reader word count: 6.8+k words request: yes/no. by an anon. "hey, first of all, i adore your writing! you have an ability to make the fic sound so real. could you do another Mick one shot, friends become more/reader works in the F1 industry, where neither of them want to ruin the friendship but when they go on a trip during winter break, they finally admit it? ❤️" thank you so much for sending this in. i'm sorry it took so long, but i hope this monster of a fic makes up for it. warnings: literally none. maybe some swear words. mentions of sex. tiny bit of angst. a/n: buckle up bitches, it's going to be a loong ride. i think this is the longest thing i've ever written and i'm not even sorry about it. get ready for the slowest fucking burn you've ever read.

my masterlist

this is a part two to 'best friend's brother'

a weekend in silverstone changed your life completely.

after attending the race with gina and mick you simply couldn't get enough of the sport. things seemed to be in your favor. you were majoring in journalism at uni, and with your newfound love of formula 1, you decided to take a few classes specialized on sports journalism.

four months after silverstone and once you finished your classes, you scored an internship with a sports magazine, showed a few articles you'd written on various topics, from art, to movies and entertainment, to, of course, formula 1. they loved them.

and now, almost an entire year after that first race at silverstone, you'd graduated, and were working for the formula 1 journalism department. gina had moved out, going back home to be with her family for a year before focusing on her career.

it seemed, though, that you couldn't keep yourself away from the schumachers. because whilst you didn't see gina every day, her brother took her place instead.

you saw each other almost every week, you were assigned to do interviews and press, which obviously meant to had to spend time together. mick always felt at ease when he saw you on the other end of the camera after a race, you always asked good questions and kept a playful but respectful banter.

the other drivers as well, liked when you did the interviews, because you didn't just ask about the technical aspects of how they drove, but how they were feeling, what they hoped would happen at the race and what they could do to improve. you always tried to lift their spirits up, which was why you were always the last person to interview each driver at the media pen.

having mick around so much was a blessing. he gave you a little insight on the drivers he knew and their personalities. telling you who you might joke around a bit and wouldn't take it personally, and those you had to keep it short and professional with.

with winter break approaching, you said goodbye to your first season of covering f1, and packed your bags to join the schumachers in switzerland to celebrate the holidays. corinna and mick invited you and you'd said yes without thinking twice.

you'd fly in with mick, two days after the last race in abu dhabi. the plan was to drive up the mountains until you reached their cabin, stay there for two or three days, and return just in time for christmas eve.

during the entire flight, you kept laughing and joking around, talking about memories and funny moments you lived the last months.

"do you remember when you almost threw up on the podium after doing a shoey with daniel?" you said, a cheeky smirk on your face as you relived the memory in your head. mick shook his head, burying his face in his hands, he was sitting in front of you.

"ugh, you just love bringing that up every chance you can, don't you?" he said, placing his elbow on the armrest, resting his cheek on his fist. you shrugged, smiling hard.

"i wouldn't be doing my job if i didn't try to get some juicy new headline," you joked, and mick rolled his eyes.

"mick schumacher: first podium ends in disaster" he said in a serious voice, pretending to be a tv presenter.

"you owe me one for saving your ass that time," you pointed at him with a finger.

"i know." he nodded, "that was a nice weekend," he added after a few seconds of silence, and you smiled in agreement as you thought back to that day.

mick had achieved his first podium in f1, ending in p3 at the 2022 mexican gp. thirty years after his father's own, at the same location. his embarrassing moment was outshined by the pure euphoria of mick continuing his father's legacy and starting his own.

"it was. lots of emotions," you'd been with him as he called his family after all the celebrations.

he asked you to keep him company, even though he'd been surrounded by such great friends all night, he felt ecstatic that you were there to celebrate with him.

you watched and listened as he spoke with his family, you caught a few words in german, he'd kept his promise and started teaching some basic words and sentences, but you couldn't understand everything they said between smiles and proud tears. your stomach felt funny, as did your heart, when you heard the pride in his mother's voice as she told him how proud she was of him, she knew the weight he felt on his shoulders, the pressure to keep his family name up high.

and as he spoke, so passionately, thanking them for everything they'd done for him you noticed when mick's eyes began tearing up, and you gently placed your hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze. his eyes flew to you, giving you a grateful smile. his mother noticed, and asked if he was alone, to which he simply moved the phone until you appeared on screen as well. you waved you hand, shy smile on your face as she said hi and began talking to you.

it was then that she asked for you to join them during the holidays, still about a month away, and it was mick's hopeful eyes that made you accept.

the funny feeling inside of you did not go away after that day. you didn't know why. you weren't sick or anything. you felt it then, as you watched mick remembering what was one of the happiest days of his life. you felt it as he insisted on carrying your bag to the car, and to his family's home once you arrived.

you felt it as he placed a hand on the small of your back as he introduced you to his mother, you'd known her since you lived with gina through videocalls, but had never met in person. and she already considered you part of the family.

you felt it as he hugged you once he said hi to his dad. corinna knew this would be hard for him, so she asked you to wait for him outside of the room. your heart broke as he closed the door behind him, and you wrapped him in a tight embrace as silent tears falling on his face.

he led you to his bedroom, where he let out all the feelings he'd been holding back for so long. you listened, nodded and held him as he opened up to you. once he had calmed down a bit, you heard a small knock on the door, both of you turning as corinna opened the door and walked in. she hugged her son, and with her eyes asked you to leave them alone, which you completely understood.

as you stood, mick's hold on your hand tightened for a second, you moved your head, he gave you a small smile, nodding his head once. he was thanking you. you returned both gestures before leaving them alone.

your reunion with gina was one you'd always remember. you'd be sleeping in the guest room, which was right next to hers. when you arrived, corinna told you she'd gone to buy groceries to stock up the mountain cabin where you, gina and mick would stay for a few days. once you heard she'd arrived, you hurried into her room and sat on her bed with the lights out.

she opened her door and turned on the lights, and at that moment, you yelled.

"hi, bestie!"

the scream she let out would haunt you forever.

she didn't know you were coming.

her face and mood switched from terror, to confusion, to anger, to affection all in ten seconds. she punched your arm for scaring her, but pulled you in for a hug as she told you how she'd missed you. you wished you could relive that moment forever.

thank god for cameras on cellphones.

staying with the schumachers felt... normal. they treated you as one more member of the family, you helped clean and cook when corinna let you, as the days passed your laundry got mixed with theirs, socks got lost, you borrowed both gina and mick's sweaters or hoodies.

two days before you were to leave for the cabin, gina got sick. nothing serious, just a common cold. but it wouldn't be wise for her to travel up to a snowy mountain and risk getting worse.

"maybe we can wait until you get better, the mountains and snow won't go anywhere," you offered, shrugging your shoulders. mick and gina sat in front of you, the dinner table between you as you ate. you could see gina thinking about it, considering it.

"yeah, that's a grea- ow!" she let out a yelp, looking at mick menacingly. two seconds passed before her eyes returned to you, "i mean, no, no. you guys should go on without me, i'll be fine. we'll go all together another time. don't let me stop you from having fun, right mick?" you furrowed your eyebrows. the siblings looked at each other, then at you, and they both smiled at the same time. they looked like the twins in the shining. except they pretended to be happy, it didn't work, though.

"yeah, gina's right. you came all this way to see the mountains at their prime, wouldn't want to waste that opportunity." he said, and you eyed them suspiciously.

"you're both creeping me out. i'm going to bed, see you in the morning," you grabbed your plate and glass of water, heading to the kitchen to wash them. you heard them whispering to each other as you made your way out and to your room.

weird, you thought.

you felt bad for leaving gina alone and going with mick after they had welcomed you into their home, but you had to admit you were really looking forward to spending some alone time with him, no matter the familiar funny feeling in your tummy and chest.

you decided to wait one extra day, just to see if gina miraculously got better, but it didn't happen. instead, now you only had one full day at the cabin before you had to return in time for christmas eve.

you woke up early that day, taking a quick warm shower and didn't rush as you got ready. even though you'd be spending most of the day on the car driving to the cabin, you didn't want to look like a mess, so you applied light makeup and styled your hair comfortably.

as you threw the last few things you needed in your luggage, you heard a knock on your door.

"come in," you said, and gina walked in.

"morning," she said.

"morning, why are you awake right now? it's not even five a.m. how are you feeling?" you asked, her nose was even redder than the previous day, she sounded congested.

"like shit, couldn't sleep all night."

"i'm so sorry. i can stay with you, i feel bad for leaving you like this," you said as you both sat on your bed.

"don't worry about me, i promise i'll be fine. you're going to love it up there. sometimes you can even see the northern lights," she encouraged.

"really?" you gasped. you'd never experienced it, and now hoped you could when you got to the mountains.

"yeah. was that enough to convince you?" she said, and you nodded excitedly. she laughed, hugging you. "i'm really glad you're here, (y/n). i know you and mick got close these few months, and i'm happy he sees you as his friend as well, he needs one. he needs you."

you were taken aback by her comment. you took a few seconds to reply.

"he's an amazing person, he's kind and funny and charming and..." you stopped yourself, eyes going wide for a second.

"have you got a crush on my brother?" she nudged your rib with her elbow. you huffed.

"what? no! he's just... my friend. like you said. just a friend." you said, even though it sounded like you were trying to convince yourself instead of gina.

"uh-huh. right. i'm heading back to bed. have fun and take care, i just know you'll have a great time there."

she didn't give you time to respond before she left the room.

what just happened? you thought.

you placed your bag by the front door, and left for the kitchen, preparing a few sandwiches and other snacks for the road. you heard footsteps behind you, mick was carrying his suitcase and put it next to yours.

"hey, how'd you sleep?" he asked, stealing a sandwich from the pile.

"good, you? hey!" you gave him a stern look, to which he responded with a cheeky wide grin, making you roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks getting warm.

"i couldn't sleep much, too busy thinking," he took another bite, looking to the floor.

"about?"

"stuff," he said, not giving you much information.

"wanna talk about it? gina said she couldn't sleep either," you offered, putting away everything you'd been using.

"nah, it's fine. just excited to go back to the cabin. i haven't been there in a few years," he explained and you nodded. "we should leave in about five minutes so you can see the sunrise," he smiled, leaning his back against the counter and crossing his arms, the long-sleeve shirt he wore tightening around his biceps. you tore your eyes away from him, focusing on what you were doing instead.

"i'm all done," you said, drying your hands on a kitchen towel.

you turned off all the lights you'd turned on, following mick to the front door. with ease, he picked up both of your bags and walked to the car as he carried them.

it seemed as though you could never get bored when you were with mick. he always surprised you with knowledge and fun facts about the most random and obscure subjects. conversation always flowed easily, and when you thought an uncomfortable silence was approaching, he always came up with some new anecdote to tell.

he was really making it impossible for that feeling in your stomach to go away, but at that moment, as you laughed and watched the sky changing colors, you wished you could stay like that forever. somehow find a way to capture the way you felt and look back whenever you were feeling sad. there wasn't anyone else you'd rather share that moment with. that thought made you smile as you watched the first rays of sun illuminating mick's face.

the morning flew by, and without notice, you'd arrived. you stared in marvel at the sight in front of you. a cabin taken out of a hallmark movie, the white snow falling, covering the ground, the treetops.

mick told you to put on your scarf and coat before going out, and you did, struggling with a ring on your finger that got caught on the yarn. mick, just like last time, grabbed your bags as you closed the car door.

"can you grab my keys? they're in my back pocket," mick turned around, your breath hitched as you realized what you what to do.

"ye-yeah," you said. your entire face felt so warm as your fingers brushed against the rough fabric of his jeans. you tried so hard to get it done quickly, but your ring got tangled with a loose thread.

"i'm so sorry, my ring got stuck," you explained, hoping he didn't think you were trying to feel him up. you pulled your finger as gently as you could, until you freed yourself.

"hey, no worries. it's okay. you know if you want to touch my butt you just have to ask,"

"mick!" you slapped his arm, clicking a button on the keyring. "it was an accident and now you're being mean. i should leave you out here to freeze."

"i was kidding! unless..." he raised an eyebrow. you groaned, pushing him with your shoulder and rushed to open the cabin. "home sweet home," mick said. he walked in and put your bags down.

"it's so beautiful," you said. mick was already kneeling in front of the fireplace to turn it on.

"yeah, it is." your eyes flew from the cozy cabin to the blonde on the floor, who was already looking and smiling at you. "okay, pick whatever room you want. we can go explore in a little bit." he said, you nodded, walking to pick up your luggage. "leave it there, i'll get it up there when i'm done here,"

"that's okay, i can take it,"

"(y/n)," he gave you a stern look.

"mick," you did the same.

"(y/n)," he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"fine."

you gave up, turning around just as you saw the winning smile on his face, a small one forming on your lips.

once you ate, showered and got changed, mick led you through the property, telling you stories of when he and gina used to chase the other. when they made snowmen with carrots for noses and sticks for arms. he spoke softly with a nostalgic look on his face as the memories ran through his mind.

you cooed at the few animals you saw, stuck your tongue out until a snowflake fell on it and you ate it, the cold making you shiver. once it started to get dark, mick noticed you getting colder by the minute, and without a second thought he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.

you ate dinner on the couch, huddled close together in front of the fire. a christmas movie playing on the tv as you ate and talked.

"thank you so much for inviting me, i've been having such a good time."

"no need to thank, you're more than welcome anytime you like. i think my mom likes you more than me," he said and you giggled.

"that's not true! you two are her pride and joy, you just haven't seen the way she looks at you."

"well, if it's anything like how she looks at you, i think i've got an idea,"

"me?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"yeah, you. everytime we talk or make a videocall, she always asks about you. if you're getting enough sleep, eating well. she tells me to look after you."

"sh- she does?" your heart began speeding up. you didn't have a close relationship with your parents, and the thought that someone who wasn't related to you at all, asked and worried about you made your eyes tear up.

"all the time."

you went to bed with that thought in your head. the lights were out and so was the fireplace, for precaution. you nestled your head in the pillows, wrapping the blankets around yourself.

the next day was filled with adventure, you explored the snowy mountains, made snowballs to throw at mick, which started a war that went on for the entire day. you even went ice skating on a frozen lake. even though the thought terrified you, mick kept a tight hold of your hand and waist, reassuring you that he'd never let you fall. and if you did, he'd be there to catch you.

the warmth that spread inside you was stronger than a thousand fires combined.

a stark contrast to how you felt that night. you'd gone to bed early, as you had to wake up before dawn to get back to mick's home in time. you had started drifting to sleep when you felt cold. really, really cold. the humming sound of the heating system was replaced by silence. you shivered at the sudden chill, trying to turn it on again, but it was useless.

in your tired, sleep deprived, cold mind, your next idea was to go downstairs and see if you could turn on the fireplace, even taking your phone out to watch a video on how to do it. finding defeat again instead. you cursed silently, walking upstairs, hating that your last resource was to wake up mick.

"mick," you whispered, knuckles tapping on the wooden door. "mick!" you said a little louder this time. a few seconds later, the heavy door opened and your eyes met mick's bare chest. you shivered, you were so cold and here he was, warm enough to not need a shirt.

"(y/n)? what's wrong?" he leaned against the frame, taking in the way you hugged yourself. you, on the other hand, were struggling so bad to keep your eyes on his face, resisting the urge to let your eyes wander down.

"umm the he- the heating's not working in my room. i'm so sorry to bother you, i tried to turn on the fireplace but i don't know how and i looked it up on youtube but i-"

"hey, hey, it's okay. don't worry. you can sleep here, i'll sleep on the couch." he touched your arm, flinching as his fingers met your cold skin. "you're freezing. come inside," he opened the door even wider, and you took a few hesitant steps in.

"get in bed, the covers should be warm enough still," he instructed. "go," he grabbed your hand and led you to the bed. a shiver ran down your spine at the sudden change of your surroundings, welcoming warmth replaced the chill as he tucked you in as if you were a small child. "good?" he asked, he crouched so he could be at eye level with you.

"it's so warm... how?" you couldn't stop yourself from asking, regretting it the moment you saw him smiling wide.

"you sleep well, i'll go to the living room," he stood, turning his back, but you held his hand, stopping him.

"why don't... i-i mean... this... you can-" you stopped yourself, breathing deep as you felt that same funny feeling inside. "you can sleep here as well. i already feel bad enough for waking you up. i can't make you sleep on the couch." you sat cross-legged, still feeling his hand in yours.

"i'll be alright. don't worry,"

"mick," you said, the tone in your voice told him you weren't up for debating.

"you won't be uncomfortable?" he asked, giving in.

"with you? never." you said, watching as he made his way to the other side of the bed.

"not even when gina and i creep you out?" he called back to a few nights ago. you rolled your eyes.

"you make me question both of your sanities, but no." you heard him chuckle, "not even when you two act like the joyful version of the twins in the shining, do i feel uncomfortable around you," you finished, leaning on your side, facing him. he turned off the lamp on his bedside table, letting the darkness engulf the room.

"that's good, schatz." he said. even in the dark, with just the moon shining in through the window, his eyes still gleamed in a way that made you feel tingly on the inside.

"thanks for letting me crash here," you whispered, looking straight into his dazzling blue orbs.

"you're more than welcome in my bed every time you like," he said, making your breath hitch. you could make a snarky remark, tease him, but it didn't feel right. his voice didn't hold a sign that he was joking, and for some reason, you were glad.

"good night, mick." you whispered, nuzzling your head against the pillow that still held his warmth and scent.

"good night, angel." he murmured, you fell asleep with a small smile on your face.

you were hot. too hot. literally.

you opened your eyes, it took your brain a few seconds to remember where you were. where you were. you tried to move, feeling something heavy on your stomach. your hands met soft skin, not yours. your eyes drifted down. there was an arm around you, that pulled your body against another.

oh, my god. you thought. you tried your best to not wake him up as you moved. but you froze when mick started moving, pulling you even closer to his chest, nuzzling his face in your neck. the funny feeling in your stomach was back, it felt like fluttering inside you.

he hummed, you felt his lips pressing against your skin for a second, before his breathing became calmer, even. at that moment, you didn't know if the heat you felt in your face was because of the blankets, or the boy behind you.

you didn't know how much time passed when you opened your eyes again. you felt mick's protective arm around you, and smiled this time when you noticed. you didn't want to move, didn't want to tear yourself away from his embrace. you wanted to stay like that forever.

why?

waking up was... awkward. you both ignored the fact that you'd been cuddling as if your lives depended on it and just moved on with your day. you had showered the night before to save time in the morning. you thanked whatever being was up there because you'd already woken up late, that would take even more time from your day, and you wanted to be back in time for christmas eve dinner.

you were turning off and unplugging the remaining electronics when you heard mick from the living room.

"we're snowed in." he said loud enough for you to hear him.

"what?" you asked, rushing to him.

"yeah, it looks like it didn't stop snowing all night, there's like 2 meters of snow, i can't drive like this." he explained as you both looked through the window. you turned your head, leaning back when your face almost clashed into his.

"well shit..." you said.

"i'll call mom, better let her know we're okay and staying here." you nodded, sitting down on the couch with your legs up, watching the snow falling.

a few minutes later, mick came back with his phone in his hand.

"mom wants to talk to you," he handed you the slim phone. he lifted your legs as he sat close to you, letting them fall on his lap.

"hello?" you said as mick's hand went to your thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles.

"(y/n)! i'm so sorry you won't make it back on time, we were all really looking forward to tonight." corinna said.

"i know, so was i! but it's better we wait it out, hopefully it gets better by tomorrow." you responded, smiling at mick.

"i'm sure it will, sweetheart. you two take care of each other, don't leave the house for any reason."

"of course, don't worry corinna. we'll be fine,"

"i'll leave you now. call if you have any news, or something happens."

"okay," you said.

"can you pass the phone to mick, sweetheart?"

"sure, we'll talk soon. bye."

"bye, honey. love you, take care."

you handed the phone back, your brain didn't process what she said until you heard mick talking with her. his hold of your thigh never went away.

he only gave short replies to whatever corinna said, but his eyes never left your face. and neither did you.

he hung up, throwing the phone to one side.

"so... what do we do now?" you asked, resting your head on your fist, your elbow on the windowsill.

"well it looks like we'll be spending christmas here so, why don't we get started with the food?" he said, you nodded.

"what are you thinking?" you wiggled a little, trying to get your legs off from mick's lap, but he tightened the hold on your thigh, you gave up and left them there.

"i think we've got enough for lasagna, or we could make pizza."

"do we have all the ingredients?" you mentally checked everything you'd packed.

"i'm not sure, i think so."

"we should probably check," you said. mick threw his head back, closing his eyes.

"don't wanna get up," he mumbled.

"i'll go," you chirped, but his hands on your legs stopped you.

"stay, just a little while. whatever's there can wait." he said, opening one eye to look at you, you shook your head.

"just five minutes. come here," you didn't know what came over you, feeling too confident as you scooted to one side, inviting mick to lay next to you.

just like when you woke up, his arm was wrapped securely around you. you felt his breath on your neck, feeling your eyelids getting heavier as the seconds passed.

when you opened your eyes, you were alone. your eyes scanned the room, what you could see of the kitchen, and mick was nowhere to be found. you got up, calling his name as you wandered around the cabin. your heart sped up as you opened each door, hoping to find him, only to feel your heart breaking a little more when you were met with nothing but emptiness.

you pressed your back against the wall, sliding down, pulling your knees to your chest. the minutes seemed to last hours as you sat in that position.

what if something had happened? what if mick left you there on your own? had you done something wrong? what if-

the sound of something falling pulled you from your anxious thoughts. you rushed down the stairs, watching as mick, covered in snow, was stacking up some wood logs next to the fireplace.

"mick!" you called, breathless. he barely had time to stand up to his full height, turning to you as you ran to him. you jumped, wrapping your arms and legs around him, pulling him so impossibly close, not caring about the snow that was now melting against your clothes.

"what's wrong, angel? what happened?" he asked, his hold on you almost as tight and desperate as yours. you hid your face in his neck, unable to hold back the tears in your eyes.

"i tho- i thought you'd... left me. here." you managed to say. feeling his arms wrapping around you comfortingly.

"oh, schatz. i'm so sorry. i'd never leave you alone. i just had to get some more wood. you were asleep and i didn't want to wake you. i'm sorry, love." he whispered, playing with your hair. he walked, with you still in his arms. he sat on the couch, didn't ask you to move, just sat and whispered in your ear how sorry he was, reminded you how special you were to him. how his family would kill him if anything happened to you.

in all honesty, you didn't know why it affected you so much. you just sat on his lap as he spoke softly, held him close to you, afraid that he'd go away. his words helped you calm down, he promised to never do that again, but he needed to go change out of his wet clothes. you let him go, he kissed your forehead.

"if i didn't know you any better i'd think you have a crush on me. i'll be right back." he said, disappearing once he reached the top floor.

you sat stunned at his words, and you thought back to that moment with gina just before you left.

"have you got a crush on my brother?"

did you?

no, you didn't. he was just your friend. a close friend. possibly a best friend. what you felt wasn't a crush.

you did not have a crush on your best friend's brother.

you did not have a crush on your possibly best friend.

did you?

oh. you did.

well, fuck.

you felt the air leaving your lungs, the room started to shrink.

you couldn't risk it. his presence in your life, even if he was just a best friend, or just your best friend's brother... was better than not having him at all.

you felt numb the rest of the day. mick always stayed close to you, he felt so bad for not thinking how you'd feel, waking up all alone in an unknown place. he tried to talk to you, but you just weren't there. you weren't crying anymore, which was good. but you weren't smiling and joking around, either, which wasn't good.

as the clock neared midnight, you sat in front of the fireplace watching a cheesy christmas romance movie. your knees were pulled to your chest, fuzzy socks adorning your feet. your heart ached as the people on screen finally confessed their love for each other. you teared your eyes away from the screen when they started kissing, the credits rolling. mick turned off the tv, turning towards you.

"it's almost midnight," he said. you hummed, nodding. playing with your fuzzy socks. you saw as mick's hand grabbed yours, you slowly moved your eyes to his, looking away after barely half a second. "(y/n)... i- i've been wanting to tell you something. for a while now. i think i-"

"i love you," you interrupted. your heart stopped.

"you... what?" he said, and you cringed internally. gathering as much air as you could, your gaze met his heaven eyes.

"i- i mean that... you- you're one of the closest people in my life. and i realized i don't say it too often. so, i love you. like a best friend." you didn't care if you weren't making any sense, you just had to find a way to save yourself from further heartbreak and embarrassment.

"oh. right. yeah i... yeah, me too." he nodded once, then moved his eyes to the clock on the wall. "i should probably go to sleep now. you know, in case we... have to drive down tomorrow."

"okay."

"goodnight," he said, getting up from the couch.

"night," you murmured, letting your head fall back once he was out of sight.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

you paced your room back and forth, already wearing pjs, ready for bed. a mental war happening in your head. no. you had to tell him.

your eyebrows furrowed in determination, your fingers grabbed the doorknob, opening the door.

your breath hitched, you stopped dead in your tracks. your eyes met blue wide ones.

"i-"

"wh-"

you both started at the same time, stopping when you heard the other speaking. you remained silent for a few seconds, just looking at each other. you noticed his hair was messy, as if he'd been running his fingers through the strands. your eyes went back to his crystal clear ones, dark circles underneath. the funny feeling, the fluttering, you realized in that moment, were butterflies flying, hoping to be freed. mick opened his mouth to speak, your gaze fell to his pink lips.

one second you were staring at them, the next, you pressed them against your own. desperately, needing to feel his touch. his mouth moved against yours, a soft whimper leaving your throat when one of his hands grabbed your face whilst the other snaked around your back to pull your body flush against his.

you kissed like your lives depended on it. as if, instead of losing air from your lungs, every time you touched, they filled again. you poured all the frustration, pining, hidden feelings, and desires into the kiss. hoping he'd understand how you were feeling without having to mutter a single word.

he'd been wanting you for so long. since that first night on the rooftop. even more, when you started working together and he had to admire you from afar. much more, when he realized how much you loved his family.

his hands traveled down your sides, hoisting you until you wrapped your legs around him, feeling the wall behind you. you were the first one to break the kiss, breathless, leaning your head on the wall. your lips felt tingly, you bit your bottom lip as you watched mick's eyes scanning your face. you were so close, foreheads almost touching as your heavy breaths mixed together.

your hands grabbed his face, feeling him leaning into your touch, making your heart and stomach clench.

"i don't think i can... i..." you started, pausing in between your thoughts. he kissed you again, and it helped you refocus your head, "i don't want you like a best friend." you muttered against his lips.

"good. neither do i." you smiled, the tension leaving your shoulders as you connected your lips again.

"your hand is so small," mick said, hours later. the sun was making its way up through the clouds.

"not my fault you're a giant," you said, kissing his cheek.

your palms were pressed together, his fingers playing with your stretched ones. until he slipped his between the free space between your own, curling them, fingertips brushing against the back of your hand. you did the same, loving the way they seemed to fit in like puzzle pieces.

your head was leaning on his shoulder as your hands never broke contact. you relished in the way you laid next to him. after hours making love with him, after declarations of love and devotion and promises of forever.

you wanted to stay there, like that, forever.

you wanted to make yourselves small enough, so you'd fit inside a snow globe. one that you could take care of with all of your love. you wanted to live in that moment, when you finally accepted you'd fallen in love with your best friend's brother.

the drive home was different, your fingers were laced together with his, resting on the console between you. occasionally, either you or mick would lift your hands up to your lips and kiss the other's knuckles. it felt... normal. so normal to mark him as yours, to mark you as his, so normal that you didn't even notice you were still holding hands once gina greeted you when you finally arrived home.

you noticed her eyes on your joined hands, didn't care if she looked, or asked. all you cared about was mick, and judging by the way he was tightening his grip around you, he only needed you by his side.

"finally," gina said, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. you hugged her with your free arm, not letting go of mick. "do you know how tired i was of pretending to be sick so you'd finally leave?" she said as she hugged her brother.

"you weren't sick?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"no. i planned it with mick so you could be alone for once."

"so the joyful twins from the shining?"

"i slipped up, i still have the bruise on my leg from when you kicked me, you jerk." she poked her brother. who only laughed, letting go of your hand to place an arm around your shoulders and pulled you to his chest,

"sorry. it worked, though." he said as he kissed your head.

"what worked?" corinna asked, walking up to you.

"you have a new daughter," gina said. corinna looked at you two, the way you were holding each other, a twinkle in your eyes, and she couldn't help but tear up.

"you two look so lovely together," she smiled, wiping the tears away. you pushed mick towards his mother, he hugged her as she let the tears fall. they stayed like that for a few moments before they pulled away, she stretched her hand and you took it, hugging her as well. "i knew there was something between you two. i couldn't have asked for a better girl for my kids. you don't know how much i appreciate and how thankful i am for everything you've done for mick and gina. you are what our family's been missing."

"thank you for- for giving me a family. a place where i feel like i belong. there really is no other place i'd rather be than right here with you. all of you," you emphasized the word all, in hopes that they'd understand what you meant. they did. you saw it in the way their chests heaved with pride and smiles somehow got bigger.

a few days later, you were still with the schumachers, now celebrating the new year.

"we'll have to settle for some ground rules," gina said later that night. it was just you and mick on a couch, with gina in front of you on another.

"for what?" mick asked, kissing your shoulder. you snuggled deeper into his chest.

"that," she pointed at you, you rolled your eyes as mick laughed. "as much as i like you two together, you're still my brother and she's still my best friend, i don't want to see you two like that all the time."

"then close your eyes," you teased. she poked her tongue out.

"funny. i'm serious."

"nice to meet you, serious. i'm mick." he said, and gina groaned as you laughed.

"you know what? i'm leaving." she got up and slapped you both on her way to her room.

"i thought you were serious, wait, come back!" you called out for her, in reply you only heard her door slamming.

"god, she's gonna hate us," mick said.

"it's her fault for setting us up," you kissed his lips.

"mick!" you heard gina.

"yeah?" he called.

"there was a package delivered for you earlier!"

"where is it?!"

"i don't know!"

"okay!"

"what?!"

"okay!"

"okay!"

"are you two done?" you asked, they yelled at each other from opposite ends of the house.

"yep. hold on." he got up and started looking for whatever he'd ordered. "ah, here it is." he said as he grabbed a small box.

"what's that?" you asked, mick plopped down on the couch again.

"it's for you." he said and you sat up, excited. "i realized, i never gave you a christmas present, so this is for you," he handed you the small box and you began opening it.

two chains. one with your initials on it. one with his.

"actually, they're for us," he said, taking the necklace with his initials, and he turned it, the date of that christmas engraved on it. "this one's for you," he handed it to you, then grabbed the other one. "this one's mine."

he helped you put yours on and then you helped him. grabbing the small charm with your initials between your fingers.

"i love it, this way everyone will know you're mine," you kissed him.

"as long as you're all mine," he said, and you nodded.

"yours," you whispered against his lips.

"mine," he reassured you.

"mine," you repeated.

"all yours," he kissed you, finally.

you let him place your back against the sofa as he climbed on top of you, his lips hovering over yours. begging to be kissed. you answered their prayer, wrapping your arms around his neck, his necklace colliding with yours.

"i think- falling for my best friend's brother might have been the best decision of my life."

"i couldn't agree more, schatz."

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[yellowocaballero]

Obi-Wan’s a teen dad and Anakin DESPERATELY wants to do crime

A week after Obi-Wan formally took Anakin as his padawan, he left his quarters.

It hadn’t been Obi-Wan’s intention to spend a week lying in bed - or, at times, lying on the living room floor. Or staring blankly at the stove, or holding a toothbrush as he forgot what he was supposed to do with it. It had been his intention to handle the new...arrangements. Put on a brave face. Take care of business. There was so much to do, and Obi-Wan really did want to do it. But he stood in front of the stove staring at its knobs instead, lost.

Anakin had been a good sport about it, at least. He figured out alarmingly quickly how to work the stove and fry up the sliced fruit in their cupboards. Anakin didn’t understand that you didn’t fry fruit, but Obi-Wan ate it with little complaint. He put food in front of Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan ate it. When Anakin asked him, somewhat fearfully, how to use the shower, Obi-Wan showed him and then took one himself. After the third day he left the living quarters semi-frequently, which would have been worrying if Obi-Wan cared.

Obi-Wan’s depressed, grieving, and has an inferiority complex the size of an Alderaanian mountain. Anakin doesn’t know what’s happening, but he does know that the power grid failure was not his fault. Can Obi-Wan ever be a true Jedi and a competent master? Or is his backstory, as told by the Jedi Apprentice novels, too fucking weird?

Rest under the cut.

A week after Obi-Wan formally took Anakin as his padawan, he left his quarters. 

It hadn’t been Obi-Wan’s intention to spend a week lying in bed - or, at times, lying on the living room floor. Or staring blankly at the stove, or holding a toothbrush as he forgot what he was supposed to do with it. It had been his intention to handle the new...arrangements. Put on a brave face. Take care of business. There was so much to do, and Obi-Wan really did want to do it. But he stood in front of the stove staring at its knobs instead, lost. 

Anakin had been a good sport about it, at least. He figured out alarmingly quickly how to work the stove and fry up the sliced fruit in their cupboards. Anakin didn’t understand that you didn’t fry fruit, but Obi-Wan ate it with little complaint. He put food in front of Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan ate it. When Anakin asked him, somewhat fearfully, how to use the shower, Obi-Wan showed him and then took one himself. After the third day he left the living quarters semi-frequently, which would have been worrying if Obi-Wan cared. 

On day six, Obi-Wan worked up the energy to turn on his datapad, and was promptly bombarded with messages. They scrolled down the screen, a new one popping up every second. 

A lot of them were from his automated specialized education classes. Obi-Wan had finished the required padawan courses when he was sixteen, breezing through each course at his own pace virtually during downtime in transit and on missions. He had signed up for some Knight-level specialized education courses afterwards, loading as many on his plate as he could and managing special permission to complete them all virtually too. Apparently, he had a great deal of assignments due. 

Many messages from the Temple administration. Notification for mandatory forms to complete for requisitions, medical care...reports on the Naboo mission...a mountain of forms to complete for the promotion...a mountain of forms for the new padawan...a mountain of forms for processing Qui-gon’s death. 

Messages from his friends. How are you doing, Obi-Wan? Are you okay, Obi-Wan? Can we come over and talk, Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan, you stupid bastard, how dare you fight a Sith without me? 

Disturbingly, even the master of mission assignments had messaged him. Xe wanted to know if Obi-Wan was going to file for extended reprieve from missions to train his underage padawan in the Temple, or if he wanted to continue taking missions. Decide quickly, Knight Kenobi. Xe are willing to grant three years of light to no missions to help ‘facilitate Padawan Skywalker’s integration into the Jedi’.

The thought made Obi-Wan dizzy. No missions for years? He and Qui-Gon had barely gone weeks without a mission. But Obi-Wan had been thirteen, and Qui-Gon had a particular talent of taking an assignment to mediate standard legislative disputes and turn it into a three month embroilment in an endangered animal trafficking scheme. Staying stuck in the Temple for that amount of time made his skin crawl. Staying at home in the Temple so Anakin could integrate into the Jedi, become the Jedi he dreamed of...

Obi-Wan turned off the pad and tossed it across the room, letting it land on Qui-gon’s private meditation mat. Somehow, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. 

Five hours later, Obi-Wan dragged himself out of Qui-gon’s room to find Anakin lying on the floor with what looked like an entire droid disassembled over the carpet. He was kicking his feet in the air, lying on his stomach, stripping some frayed wire. 

Obi-Wan stared at him blankly, forms dancing behind his eyes. Anakin needed clothing. They had already processed him through his vaccinations - thank hell - and prescribed him some antibiotics for his multitude of intestinal parasites, but there was no way he was taking the pills. He needed to teach him how to braid the padawan braid. He needed to get them some food for the cabinets. He needed to…

“Are you hungry?” Obi-Wan rasped. His hair felt disgusting.

Anakin’s head snapped up, eyes widening. He scrambled off the rug, brushing a suspicious amount of dirt off his knees. “Yeah! I’ll make us that green thing!”

He shouldn’t let the nine year old work the stove. But Obi-Wan let him anyway, as he managed to somehow dump water in the kettle and place it on the stove, standing beside Anakin and waiting for it to whistle. 

I must be doing very well, Obi-Wan thought hysterically, as he stared at the old-fashioned durasteel kettle that Qui-gon had favored. He was releasing his emotions into the Force with perfection. He wasn’t feeling anything at all. He wasn’t thinking about Qui-gon. He wasn’t thinking about anything at all. His mind was clear and empty, and he was perfectly at peace. 

Obi-Wan tried to pour his tea, but he just couldn’t move. He stood and stared at the kettle for so long that Anakin eventually walked in and, straining on his tiptoes, sloshed the steaming water into the plastic white cup. 

***

On day seven, Obi-Wan managed to wrangle both himself and Anakin into some semblance of hygiene and clean clothes. Anakin needed a lot of help, which clearly embarrassed him, but Obi-Wan was too dead inside to be frustrated about it. 

He ended up tying his obi for him, as Anakin wriggled and tried to turn around to see it on the back. He’d have to show him how to do it himself later, but that was for later. 

“Why do I have to wear this?” Anakin whined. “It’s so heavy.”

“I’ll see if I can requisition you an outfit with less layers,” Obi-Wan said. A lighter outfit wouldn’t cut it, as Anakin had ramped up the temperature controls in their quarters a week ago and the rooms haven’t dipped below boiling ever since. “Hold still. Hold - hold still, please.”

“What does requisition mean?”

Anakin held still eventually. He managed to untie the obi in the first ten minutes, but Obi-Wan really couldn’t bring himself to care too much. Then they had to worry about brushing their teeth, and Obi-Wan had to teach him how to do that, and why was this so hard, why was everything so hard -

But when Obi-Wan eventually got them both out the door, he found no relief.The Temple felt different. Obi-Wan didn’t know how; just that it did. It was identical in every worldly way, yet mismatched in the Force. As if it was a different Temple, a pale echo from another dimension, that was the home of a different Obi-Wan. Or maybe Obi-Wan was different: maybe his Force signature was so warped and polluted that he tainted everywhere he went. 

They were all parts of the great whole of the Force. The Force was composed of every Jedi, every sentient being and eddy of wind. There were tens of thousands of Jedi in this Temple - how could the death of one man change it so thoroughly? Or had it just changed Obi-Wan?

Somewhat suspiciously, Anakin seemed to know the way out of the dormitories and into the main thoroughfare of the building. Obi-Wan kept a death grip on his little hand the entire time, slowing his steps so Anakin could keep up without having to jog. It didn’t stop him from trying to run forward every few steps, only for Obi-Wan to gently tug him back. 

“You weren’t supposed to run around the Temple by yourself,” Obi-Wan said flatly. Anakin grinned sheepishly, in what Obi-Wan was already beginning to recognize as his ‘Busted!’ face. 

“Why not?”

“You could have gotten lost.”

“I did get lost,” Anakin said proudly. “But then I found a secret service tunnel for the droids and I crawled through it and I found a server room and -” He stopped abruptly. “But that was way after the power outage yesterday. That I had nothing to do with.”

Obi-Wan...should probably care about this. 

He didn’t. He was too busy releasing his emotions into the Force, and returning his dark thoughts to the Force, and maintaining complete control over his body and spirit. There was no room in that for caring about Anakin, maybe, destroying the Temple.

Wasn’t he a teacher? Shouldn’t he be teaching?

“First rule of being a Jedi,” Obi-Wan said, exhausted, “learn to lie.”

There. That was a lesson. Qui-gon had said the same thing to him when he was fourteen. Obi-Wan was doing great at this. Anakin beamed and made a weird motion with his hand, clenching it into a fist and sticking his thumb out. Obi-Wan stared blankly at him until he put his hand down. 

Maybe it was because Obi-Wan was releasing all of his feelings and thoughts into the Force so well, but he couldn’t help but feel a constant prickling at the back of his neck. It felt like everybody was looking at them. A group of gossiping knights downright stopped talking when they saw Obi-Wan and Anakin approaching, and they broke out into whispers when they left. Padawans and initiates openly stared. Masters were too polite to stare, but their interest clearly peaked in the Force. 

By the time they got to the quartermaster’s and slid in line, Anakin was practically hiding behind Obi-Wan. Anakin had likely gone his entire life without anybody noticing him, blending into the background. Obi-Wan had learned almost a decade ago that it was a useful survival tactic for slaves. Although how he had ever done it, Obi-Wan would never know. The boy was a sun in the Force. Blinding and burnt, as broiling as the temperature he kept their quarters at. 

“Oh my. Padawan Kenobi, is that you?” Meela, the Quartermaster’s knight assistant, stopped and stared at both of them. She was carrying a large box of fabrics, and all of the other Jedi waiting in line stopped talking to crane their heads and stare too. “Oh! It’s knight now, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, before coughing. He hadn’t realized his voice was so hoarse - he hadn’t spoken to anybody but a nine year old in a week. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Meela.”

“Of course,” Meela said quickly. She was looking openly at Anakin, who was pointedly looking at Obi-Wan’s belt. “And you must be Anakin Skywalker! I had no idea you were so young. Is he even old enough to be a padawan, Knight Kenobi?”

“We determined that the creche wasn’t the best place for him.” Obi-Wan quickly grabbed his datapad, brought up the catalogue of items to requisition, and shoved it Anakin. “Pick out what we’re going to get. I’m certain you must be very busy, Knight Meela, so -”

“My, Padawan Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan refrained from gritting his teeth, before rotating on his heel. He stuck his hands in his sleeves, bowing to the aged Togrutan Jedi behind him. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Master Hashi.”

“My condolences for your master’s death,” Master Hashi said sympathetically. His watery old blue eyes were large and perfectly pitying. “It must be so difficult for you. And taking on a padawan so soon after your knighthood, as well.”

“He’s with the Force now,” Obi-Wan said. Smiling. He was smiling. Turn it down. Just a gentle smile. Remember Rishi. “But I appreciate your condolences.”

As it turns out, half the line just needed to express condolences for Master Jinn’s death, how sad, how tragic, how avoidable. He was so young. Obi-Wan was practically sweating by the time they got to the quartermaster’s desk, at which point he was promptly told that he was missing three forms. 

Obi-Wan stood in front of the quartermaster’s desk, gripping Anakin’s hand in his, trying not to unwind. “But I filled out the application on the portal -”

“Yes, but you need your knight’s identification code,” the Quartermaster said briskly. “You input your padawan code.”

“How do I find out my knight’s identification code?”

“It should be on your identification card, son.”

“I was only knighted a week ago.” They were staring. They were all staring - “They haven’t issued me a card yet.”

“I’ll refer you to my assistant, Knight Kenobi.”

Anakin tugged on Obi-Wan’s sleeve. “Are we not getting my new clothing?”

A horrible tremor rose in Obi-Wan’s chest: a choking, sinking feeling. It crawled up his throat, making his trachea burn and his head pound. It felt like a balloon expanding, splintering his chest cavity and threatening to crack him apart. 

Everybody was watching. They could not see it. Think about Rishi. Do not let them see it. 

After fifteen humiliating minutes sitting at a sympathetic Meela’s desk, Obi-Wan finally managed to secure them some clothes. Anakin also received the standard pack of Jedi personal items, including his own toiletries and datapad. They secured an identification code for Anakin and input him into the database, and gave him his own lanyard and set of cards. Older Jedi tended to keep them in a hidden pocket in their robes, but for obvious reasons they affixed them to the neck of younger children. 

But, without the identification code and five hundred more hoops, Obi-Wan couldn’t request a new living quarters and new furniture. He thanked Meela for her time anyway, stopped Anakin from attempting to requisition a B900-A40 droid with HyperFlex specs, and escaped something as simple as the Quartermaster’s trying to avoid rattling apart. 

Obi-Wan only exhaled when they were outside, looking at his datapad and marking off the first line. The to-do list scrolled down the screen, and onto another page. Anakin was already shifting from foot to foot, bored. 

“One down,” Obi-Wan said. “Three more.”

“Do we have to?” Anakin whined. “Why were the other Jedi so mean?”

Obi-Wan stopped short. He looked down at Anakin, who was fiddling with his obi again. “Stop messing with that. And they weren’t being mean, Anakin, they were just concerned.”

But Anakin just wrinkled his nose. “They were being mean. They were making you feel bad.”

How had he even - “If you keep quiet through the errands, you can have some fruit for lunch at the commissary.”

“Wizard!”

****

It quickly became obvious that nobody approved of Obi-Wan and Anakin.

Whispers followed them everywhere. Masters, old friends of Qui-gon, subtly disapproved of his choices. Which was nothing new - Obi-Wan had silently suffered almost everybody in the Temple disapproving of Qui-gon to him for years - but somehow it made Obi-Wan want to tear his hair out. The knights - the other knights - expressed incredulity that somebody knighted that morning received a padawan that afternoon. The padawans refused to even talk to Anakin, and he very quickly stopped trying. 

Obi-Wan’s own friends...he did not have many. He was never in the Temple long enough to significantly interact or make connections with any other padawans or knights. He was never home for longer than a few weeks, and if he was planetside for longer than a month then it was because Qui-gon was recuperating from getting blown up when Obi-Wan hijacked a pirate ship and crash landed it on a small moon. 

He used to have friends. Bant and Garen and Reeft and Siri...but a small and horrible part of Obi-Wan hated talking to them. A conversation with them always felt like they were trying to communicate with an Obi-Wan who hadn’t existed for a very long time, crying out over an impassable canyon. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan had begun resenting people who saw through him. 

Anakin was a stubborn and implacable kid, but he was very perceptive. He clung tighter and tighter to Obi-Wan’s robes the further they walked into the temple, and eventually Obi-Wan had to disentangle him and give him a quick talk about appropriate behavior. It was his tenth talk to Anakin about appropriate behavior - about everything from using utensils to washing his hair - but this was the first time he seemed to understand why. 

“So they don’t like you if you don’t do all the dumb stuff they do?”

“It’s not dumb,” Obi-Wan hissed. “And keep your voice down, this is a library.”

Judging from Anakin’s impressed gawking, this was his first time in a library. He clearly didn’t understand why they were supposed to be quiet either, and Obi-Wan was beginning to understand that Anakin refused to do anything unless you gave him a reason. 

Obi-Wan carefully placed him in a small chair in the children’s section, in front of a brightly colored plastic table. Some other initiates were sitting around coloring, or working their way through children’s books. Anakin squinted up at him judgmentally as Obi-Wan frantically grabbed the clunky and friendly library datapad and scrolled through the catalogue until he found a likely suspect. Bugs of Rainforest Planets, light on the words, perfect. 

“Just stay here until I come back,” Obi-Wan whispered, after a hurried explanation of why they were quiet in libraries. “Don’t leave this chair. Please.”

“I want more fruit,” Anakin warned. 

“You will have more fruit. Now please don’t move.”

This was not how you Jedi masters taught padawans. This was not how it was supposed to work. Obi-Wan was not doing this right. He was doing this terribly. And everybody knew, and everybody was judging him.

The children’s librarian was a kind, plump older Twi’lek with long silver lekku down to her waist. Madame Hallan had been a personal favorite of Obi-Wan’s when he was a youngling, and he knew that she still had a soft spot for him. She was probably the only librarian who didn’t explicitly distrust him.

He easily kidnapped her for a meeting - or, maybe, she took one look at his face and kidnapped him - and she shepherded him into her office. He had never been inside, and Obi-Wan felt weirdly on the other end of the fence of his childhood. It was bright and cheerful and had datapads scattered everywhere with tax forms. 

“I understand you have a new padawan,” Madame Hallan said kindly. “I saw him reading. He seems like a wonderful boy.”

She and half the temple understood that he had a new padawan. “I need your help,” Obi-Wan said, excruciatingly impolitely. Since when was Obi-Wan impolite? Since when was he lost? “It’s Anakin - I need to enroll him for lessons and I need some introductory literature for him and -”

“Dear, you’ll want to talk to Master Ravenholme for that.” Master Ravenholme was the Master of Education, and personal blight of many. “He’ll likely ask Anakin to take a placement test to determine which classes he joins.”

“Anakin can’t take a placement test,” Obi-Wan said. “He can’t read.”

To Madame Hallan’s credit, and raising a lot of questions about what exactly the other Jedi knew about Anakin, she accepted the information with a thoughtful look and a nod. “Does he know his letters and some words, or is it total illiteracy?”

Obi-Wan scrubbed his face. He was perched in the uncomfortable metal chair across from her desk, elbows propped on his knees. “It’s sporadic. He’s not totally illiterate, and I think he can read mechanical instruction manuals and labels and signs and that sort of thing...if it has to do with starfighters, he can write the instruction manual...I don’t know, I haven’t checked, but I can’t send him to class like this…”

“Calm yourself, Obi-Wan. Release that tension into the Force. Let’s take this one step at a time,” Madame Hallan said firmly, as Obi-Wan carefully breathed. “I will schedule a  reading and writing assessment appointment for Anakin for an assessment. Knight Fu and Knight Kili are available to administer personal tutoring until we get him up to speed.” Fu and Kili were two teachers in the special education department, which was somewhat lean for children over the age of ten or so. Most of the ‘delayed’ children were quickly assigned to the Jedi Corp. Obi-Wan was highly educated on this, and shamefully bitter. “Now, doesn’t that sound like a plan?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good.” Madame Hallen typed something out on her computer, making Obi-Wan’s datapad ping. “I’ve sent you a few of the handbooks that we give new knights and first-time teachers. Hopefully they’ll be of some use to you.” She smiled reassuringly at him, oozing serenity. “I think you will make a wonderful teacher, Obi-Wan. Our Temple’s never seen a young Jedi as dedicated and hardworking as you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 “And I’m certain that once you and Anakin get settled in, no matter where he came from, he will make an excellent student. We’re all Jedi here, after all.”

Betting was not Jedi-like behavior, despite the fact that Obi-Wan was a world-class betting champion on three Outer Rim worlds (there had been a diamond heist), but Obi-Wan would bet five hundred credits right now that Anakin was not in the chair where he had left him.

In the end, Obi-Wan was pleasantly surprised. Anakin, obviously, was not in the chair where Obi-Wan had left him, but he was within easy searching distance and hadn’t destroyed any droids yet. Instead, he had just meandered to the large picture encyclopedia propped up on a wooden stand, flipping through the flimsi with wide eyes. 

Obi-Wan stood next to him, unable to smile but amused all the same. “Do you know what that is?”

Anakin nodded fervently. “It’s an encyclopedia! The padawan guy said it has pictures of every smart species in the galaxy.”

There were, of course, digital databases for these things, but kids loved flipping through things. “Sentient species. Did you learn anything?”

“Yeah!” Anakin lingered on a picture of a Togruta before flipping further at light speed. “The padawan guy said that Qui-gon was a ‘rogue Jedi’ and that he taught you how to do crime and conquer planets and backflip and stuff.”

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. Hard. “Please don’t listen to Temple gossip, Anakin. It’ll jump down Coruscant while the truth takes an airlift.”

“But you can do backflips, I saw it.” Anakin turned to look at him - eyes wide, unjudging. “What does ‘rogue Jedi’ mean?”

What did it mean? Obi-Wan had spent half his life wondering. “It means that Qui-gon and I had a lot of adventures,” Obi-Wan said tactfully. “My training was somewhat unconventional in comparison with many other Jedi.”

But Anakin just beamed. “That’s so cool! Is my training going to be uncon - unconvectional?”

“Unconventional.” Obi-Wan sighed. “And at this point, I’m afraid so.”

Was Anakin going to resent him for this once he grew older? He must. Anakin would never be a real Jedi, a proper one. Just like Obi-Wan wasn’t. And Obi-Wan had spent almost a decade now frantically, fervently, desperately trying. He had done everything: mastered the art of saber-fighting, excelled in as many topics as he could. He was an expert in diplomacy, politics, ecology, and tactics. Everybody who met Obi-Wan found him charming, graceful, and handsome - and nobody who ever met Obi-Wan liked him. He topped his classes, was better at saberplay than most knights, and had personally saved the lives of three princesses and a memorable duchess, and he couldn’t figure out how to be a Jedi.

Obi-Wan couldn’t teach what he didn’t have. And he would never be able to give -

“Cool! I want to backflip and conquer planets too.” Anakin grinned up at him, yellow teeth flashing in the soft library lights. “I already know how to do crime, I’m really good at it!”

“Jedi have diplomatic immunity, so technically I’ve never done a crime,” Obi-Wan said, somewhat testily. 

“What’s diplomatic immunity?”

“Lesson number two, padawan, is that it means we can do whatever we want so long as we can justify it in the mission report.”

“Wizard!”

Maybe Obi-Wan should just never repeat anything Qui-gon had ever said to him. Ever. 

In a roundabout act of bribery, Obi-Wan finally led Anakin towards the cafeteria. It wasn’t lunchtime, but few Jedi strictly followed the guidelines of breakfast, lunchtime, and dinnertime. This was mostly because the creche and Initiates did, and nobody wanted to be in the cafeteria while children were everywhere. Obi-Wan was somewhat infamous in certain circles for braving the cafeteria at 0500 hours, when the space was completely overtaken by retired and venerated Masters sipping tea and playing intense grudge matches of shogi. Obi-Wan had been forced into the matter by his habit of waking up at 0430, but the shogi skills he learned had once settled a trade negotiation between two tribal groups with an ancestral grudge on a Mid-Rim planet, so he had no regrets.

Anakin was practically crushing his hand in excitement. His head whipped around everywhere, eyes wide and drinking in the sublimely banal and boring sight. There was the salad bar, there was the meat bar, there was the drink fountain...but to Anakin, it was the most amazing thing on Coruscant. It almost made Obi-Wan smile. When was the last time he had that expression on his face? Even the beautiful spires of Naboo were commonplace to him. 

“And they just -”

“Yes, they just give you the food.” Obi-Wan stopped in the center of the crowded thoroughfare - where, thankfully, everybody was far too focused on their meal or their friends to care about the Temple’s newest spectacle. “I’m sorry, Anakin. What do you...eat, again?”

Anakin suffered this atrocious act of caretaking patiently. What had he been eating until now? Just the self-stable noodles? Had he been handling boiling water?! “At home we ate jinjaraak and ekijun. People with money had fruit and stuff.” He looked around hopefully. “And they just give you fruit -”

“Right,” Obi-Wan said. He struggled to remember the food Shmi had served them. It had been mostly gruel. Obi-Wan had been around the block enough to see that she had been an adept cook of terrible ingredients. “Could you give me an idea of what those are?”

“Uh…” Anakin made little slapping motions with his hands. “Jinjaraak is from clay and lard and spices. I help Mom make little cakes. Like this, see?” At Obi-Wan’s dubious expression, he quickly clarified, “From the good clay. Near the dried up rivers. Not the bad clay. That stuff makes you sick. O’la’rek ate some of that and she got super sick and she barfed up blue -”

  “Let’s get you some fruit,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin got as much fruit as he wanted. Obi-Wan was too busy thinking about what ‘good clay’ could possibly mean to stop him. He could take the extra back to their quarters, anyway. 

There was a line for medical diets, and Obi-Wan eventually shuffled an ecstatic fruit-chomping Anakin into that line. He had to present the script the Halls of Healing gave him to the friendly yet belaboured Padawan working the booth that day, and waited patiently as the Padawan squinted at it and ran off to go get his supervisor. Anakin was in Rylothian Heaven, complete with the trees of plenty. 

Eventually the supervisor shuffled out, and when Obi-Wan recognized Master Law he bowed. The gruff Patitite squinted at Obi-Wan, then down at the effervescent Anakin with jogan juice staining his sleeve. It was a good thing Obi-Wan thought ahead and ordered extra robes.

“Kenobi,” Master Law finally said, with an air of crisp memory. “Iron deficiency.”

“Yes, Master.” Please don’t remind him. “I’m here with a prescription for my -”

“And the Vitamin D deficiency. And malnutrition?” Master Law squinted further at Obi-Wan, as if half-convinced that he couldn’t possibly be remembering correctly. “I had you eating Lo’rok paste for a month.”

“Yes, Master. After I was stationed on Neskar.”

“How the blazes was a Padawan stationed on -” Master Law cut himself off abruptly, staring down at Anakin instead. He looked him up and down with sharp eyes, seemingly picking out a dozen things that Obi-Wan just couldn’t see. “I’ll get you the nutrient shakes. See that he has one with every meal, three meals a day. I’m prescribing extra vitamin gummies, he’s a bit yellow. Those dietician hacks at the Halls of Healing don’t know anything about real food.”

Obi-Wan really didn’t want to get in the middle of that, so he just nodded. But Anakin blinked up at the man, flecks of seeds caught on the corner of his mouth. “What’s a gummy?”

“A very sweet, tasty candy,” Master Law said gravely. “Which young Padawans only receive when they are very brave.”

Anakin brightened. “What’s candy?”

“The best food in the galaxy.” Master Law’s stern countenance split into a sharp smile. “Seems like that’s just what the doctor ordered. If you’ve never had any, then that means I have to prescribe you a double dose.”

Anakin grinned to match, bright and wide, with yellow teeth and crinkled eyes. “That means I’m brave! I’m super brave! Padme said so, and you said so, so it’s like I’m extra brave!”

For some reason that he just couldn’t parse, Obi-Wan found himself anxiously saying, “I think you’re brave too, Anakin.” 

“Triple brave!”

The cafeteria was quickly proving to be Anakin’s favorite place in the Temple. Obi-Wan was reasonably certain that this was a good thing, because it made Anakin happy and happiness was good. That was a reliable fact of the universe: when happiness was scarce, sweet food could usually supply it. Sometimes you took what you could get.

Obi-Wan made an uncharacteristic move and placed a great deal of sugar on his oatmeal. Dumping sugar on oatmeal was crazy. This was probably what going insane felt like. Obi-Wan felt like a criminal. 

“You’re very boring, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said judgmentally. 

“I’m afraid so,” the ten time war veteran agreed. 

It could be worse. Nobody was around to see his shame but Anakin, and the small child wouldn't squeal. All he had to do was ply Anakin with nutrition shakes and fruit, take him back to their quarters, not leave their quarters again for another two weeks in order to recover from this experience, and -

“Obi-Wan! Goodness, Obi-Wan!”

Both Obi-Wan and Anakin jumped a foot in the air, Anakin fighting to keep his food balanced on his child-sized tray. But Obi-Wan recognized the voice, the smooth familiarity soothing his panicking heart and calming down his padawan by connection. 

Despite the fact that the voice was the last person he wanted to see.

Bant didn’t run, because she was a respectable Knight, but she did speedwalk in a dignified waddle towards Obi-Wan and Anakin. Anakin subtly slid closer to Obi-Wan, which he should really discourage. 

“Obi-Wan! Oh, goodness, you - you jerk, you big jerk!” Bant wrung her flippers, jowls shaking with the clear uge to wrap up Obi-Wan in her patented tight hug and foiled only by the tray that Obi-Wan was holding in front of him like a shield. “You’re an absolute bantha’s - oh!”

She had just noticed Anakin, who held his tray tightly. He was frowning at Bant, and Obi-Wan could feel a twinge of childish bad emotion across their still nascent bond. Wait. What bond?

Bant was oblivious, or put on a good show of it. “You must be Padawan Skywalker,” she said warmly. She bent down a little, and Obi-Wan was struck by nostalgia for her glimmering eyes and bright smile. Bant loved kids. Obi-Wan never had. “It’s so good to meet you! Have you been taking care of your silly master for me?”

Anakin pursed his lips judgmentally. “My teacher’s not silly,” Anakin said, a bit loudly. “He’s great and smart and does backflips. It’s not his fault he’s a jerk!”

Never mind. Obi-Wan was never taking Anakin out in public again. He carefully destroyed the urge to wince, settling for smiling weakly at Anakin. Bant looked a little taken back - shocked by the idea that Anakin could have taken her friendly teasing seriously. Or maybe that he would openly call Obi-Wan a jerk. Obi-Wan wasn’t going to contest it. It was fair. 

“Bant’s my best friend, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, with as much warmth as he could muster. His smile was looking more pathetic than anything, so he dropped it. “She knows how good my backflips are.”

“The best in the Temple!” Bant immediately swore up and down. “I’m awfully sorry, Anakin. I think your master’s the coolest guy here. Come on, why don’t you two come eat lunch with me and the rest of Obi-Wan’s friends? We’ve all been dying to meet the newest member of the family!”

A stone sank in Obi-Wan’s gut. He looked over the crowd, effortlessly picking out the familiar table in the back center. Sure enough, he saw the telltale gawks of Siri and Quinlan.

Joy. The two people he wanted to talk to the least. Those two ate Obi-Wan for breakfast on a good day. They would devour him now. They could smell weakness on him. He couldn’t get anything past them. They would take one look at him and know, just know - 

“Obi-Wan has friends?” Anakin asked dubiously. “But he just stays in his room all day.” Went tactfully unsaid: and nobody likes him. 

Somehow, the emotional obstacle course his friends were going to put him through was more appealing than the cold judgement of the nine year old. “I have plenty of friends,” Obi-Wan lied through his teeth. “Let’s go say hi.”

It felt like walking to the guillotine. Actually, Obi-Wan had walked to a guillotine before, and this was - no, it wasn’t worse. Hadn’t he done it twice? The first time was stressful, because he wasn’t sure if Qui-Gon had seduced the prison guard yet. The second time was fine, since he had hidden his lightsaber in the loose floorboard under the guillotine before he set up his own capture. So -  better than the first time, worse than the second time. 

Bizarrely, Siri and Quinlan grinned when they saw them. Obi-Wan was actively fighting the urge to hide behind the nine year old. The nine year old who he couldn’t possibly have formed a training bond with - he had been his padawan all of a week, it was impossible - but who had undoubtedly sensed his anxiety anyway. 

“Obi-Wan, I can’t fucking believe it,” Quinlan shouted, far too loudly. He and Bant’s trays were empty, while the slow eater Siri’s bowl of grains were half-eaten. They had been there for a while, probably hours, talking about life. He had always left after thirty minutes. He had stuff to do. “I must have left you ten damn voicemails -”

“You son of a varnaak.” Siri had a death grip on her spoon, wielding it like a lightsaber. “I’m strangling you with your intestine. Not inviting me to your own knighting -”

“If you’re going to be mean, we’re leaving!” Anakin interrupted, voice high and reedy. “I already said so! I will stomp your feet!”

“You’re not allowed to stomp their feet, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, exhausted beyond measure. “Hello, all. Save the interrogation for after we’ve eaten, please.”

And maybe it was the sheer power of Anakin and his mighty feet, but his friends quieted enough for Obi-Wan to shove sugary oats into his mouth and for Anakin to polish off his fruit before starting in on his nutrient shake. Obi-Wan had to stop and take a napkin and wipe the seeds off the corner of his mouth, and help him to insert the straw in the protein shake, but the act of sucking on a straw amused Anakin and he didn’t hate the taste. There were friendly animal species on the cup. Special nutrient shake for chronically malnourished children - now with bright colors! 

His friends just watched them, without even food to make the environment faux-casual. Their dark eyes seemed to follow him, and Obi-Wan felt his skin crawl. He didn’t want to deal with this. He could barely deal with Quinlan on a good day, much less...today. Any day, lately.

Finally, his grace period seemed to tick down to zero, and Quinlan broke the ice with a fishing spear and an excess of exuberance. “Is this the famous little guy we’ve heard so much about? I hear you’re a good pilot, kid!”

And, just like that, Quinlan was Anakin’s favorite person on Coruscant. “I’m the best pilot,” Anakin asserted arrogantly. Obi-Wan mentally noted the tendency for arrogance and pride down in the ‘Goal Setting!’ part of his brain that was half-heartedly drafting a training curriculum. “I can blow up anything and anyone.”

“Sounds like Quinlan,” Siri snickered. Unlike Bant, she was terrified of children, but she hid it well. “He and your master are Joballian twins that way. Those two could start a fire in deep space.”

“So who are you people?” Anakin asked. Obi-Wan put ‘unbelievably blunt’ in his mental training curriculum. “Are you really Obi-Wan’s friends? He doesn’t like you.”

“I like them very much,” Obi-Wan said rotely. Quinlan pantomimed a shot to the heart. 

But Bant just smiled down at Anakin, unflappable. “You’re a padawan, young one. You should call Obi-Wan your master. It’s good to be polite.”

“Why should I have to do that?” Anakin’s voice tinged a little louder, and at a pointed look from Obi-Wan he toned it down. Siri’s eyebrows rose. “He’s my teacher, not a master of no one.”

Bant winced a bit, and all three of them rippled discomfort in the Force. So they knew, even though it wasn’t totally public knowledge. Quinlan had undoubtedly used his ridiculous clearance as a Shadow to access the Naboo mission records and spilled the details to them. Keeping it professional, as always. 

“Master means something very different to Jedi,” Bant said gently. “It’s a special relationship between two people. Every Jedi teaches and learns from each other, but your master is the person who guides you and makes sure you go to bed on time. It’s just the same word for a very different thing than you’re used to.”

“What do you mean by that?” Anakin gnawed on his straw suspiciously. “I thought Obi-Wan was the one who taught me.”

Quinlan, who had far more experience with the wider world than Siri and Bant, caught on first. He propped his elbows on the table, and Obi-Wan saw him visibly struggle for the ‘wise teacher’ tone before giving up. “The Jedi have different relationships than you’re used to, kid. Who took care of you and watched you all day back home?”

This was heading into dangerous territory, and Obi-Wan frowned dangerously at Quinlan, but Anakin just hummed. “Mom took care of me and we moved around together. But Old Lady Hun watches me and the other kids in the gathering space when Mom’s busy. And when Jipol was sick, Mom and I took care of her two daughters. And Old Man Wa taught me how to fix things. And -”

“Right. So the Jedi are like that. Instead of a very small number of people raising kids, every adult raises every kid. So, for example, any Jedi would tell you to stop running in the halls or stop you from misbehaving -”

“And every Jedi did, with this one,” Siri added. 

“ - but any Knight or Master would help you with your homework, too,” Quinlan finished, elbowing Siri. “We all help each other here. We share food, stuff, school, and teachings. That’s why we practice nonattachment - everything’s everybody’s, not just yours. Make sense?”

Anakin’s brow was furrowed. He paid close attention to everything - chewing everything over again and again until it made sense. Obi-Wan shoveled oatmeal in his mouth, glad Quinlan was doing this. “Why does nonattachment mean you don’t get moms or dads?”

Dangerous territory. Bant opened her mouth to say something soothing, but Quinlan beat her to the punch. “Well, to Jedi, we think the idea of just putting two or three people in charge of kids is pretty crazy. Kids are loud and bouncy. One or two people would get totally stressed out and make mistakes. And imagine just a few people teaching you about life. They could believe all this crazy stuff, and then so would you.”

“And what if the parent’s being a total jerk?” Siri pointed out. “Then the kid’s stuck with that. But when there’s other people around, they can stop and tell the parent that they’re being a total jerk. Then they have to cut it out.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. “So nobody beats their kids here because the other Jedi would get mad?”

Awkward silence loomed. Finally, Quinlan said, “Yeah, totally. Anyway, that’s why our way rocks and makes sense. Boom. Teaching moment.” Quinlan slapped the table in victory. “We are so good at this. We’re going to be the greatest teachers ever, Anakin. Forget lame old Obi-Wan, he’s going to lead you down the path of boring. Stick with Knight Vos, I’m gonna lead you down the path that rocks.”

At Anakin’s deeply confused expression, Bant put a hand on his back. But when she spoke she spoke to Obi-Wan, gleaming eyes boring into his. “We’re Obi-Wan’s best friends. We’re going to be here for you almost as much as Obi-Wan is. None of us have padawans yet, so we’re all really excited to help you! Did you know I’m a doctor?”

Anakin perked up. He respected doctors highly - apparently it was a very prestigious position on Tatooine. “Wow! Obi-Wan’s friends with a doctor?”

“And I’m a superspy action hero, kid!” Quinlan flexed, tossing his dreads. “I can teach you how to hack into anything!”

“I’m a better pilot than anyone at this table.” Siri awkwardly waved her fist in the air in a pantomime of excitement. “I’ll help you...fly things. Which you can apparently already do. But I’ll teach you how to do it better.”

The idea was heady to Anakin. His eyes widened, filled with possibility and excitement. Of smiling adult faces, wanting to help. But he looked at Obi-Wan instead, fear sneaking in through the gap bored by long experience with misery. “So what does a master do, then?”

Obi-Wan smiled wanly at Anakin. Experimentally, he tried sending him as much warmth as possible. He didn’t have much to spare, but Anakin seemed to appreciate the sentiment. “I’ll protect you, Anakin. And I’d like it if you continued calling me Obi-Wan.”

And he knew that meant more to Anakin than all the rest. At least Obi-Wan won there. 

Although Obi-Wan had gone his entire life despairing for Quinlan’s future padawan, he somehow handled Anakin wonderfully. Even Siri awkwardly asked a question about Anakin’s favorite kind of ship - clearly expecting an answer along the lines of ‘a big one!’ or ‘one that shoots lasers!’ - and sat through Anakin’s ten minute scientific dissertations on the difference in engine ports between Genoshian Special X100 and Genoshian Special X200. 

When’s the last time Obi-Wan had a long conversation with Anakin, where they just talked about nothing? He’d been so selfish, focusing entirely on himself and not even thinking about Anakin. His friends were doing this a thousand times better than he was. They should be the one with a padawan, not him. Qui-Gon hadn’t thought he was ready for knighthood until - well, until it was convenient, but if it took him this long to be knighted he ought to be forty before he got a padawan. 

In a characteristically deft maneuver, Quinlan had flagged down a friend of his - Ku Lun, a friendly face and teacher to the Initiates - and gave Anakin a real world lesson in Jedi togetherness by asking him to walk Anakin back to their quarters. Anakin shot a panicked look at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan deeply wished to send a panicked look back, but he just nodded supportively. 

“Don’t you want to ask Knight Lun about lessons?” Obi-Wan said. “You can work together to design your school.”

The concept of school, and the power to choose it, was obviously heady to Anakin, and he jumped off the bench with only a tinge of reluctance. “Come back to the room in thirty minutes or you’re fired,” Anakin told Obi-Wan gravely, yet nonsensically, before running off with Knight Lun. 

It wasn’t until the sounds of Anakin’s chattering faded, then disappeared completely, that Obi-Wan turned back to his friends with a sigh. Their plot had worked. Quinlan and Siri’s perfect score in tactics - second only to his more than perfect score - had won again. He was subject to the masses, and the masses were stressed over his wellbeing. 

Better make the pre-emptive strike. “Greetings, my honored friends,” Obi-Wan said dully. “My very best friends in the galaxy, whom I have not spoken to in months.”

“And whose fault is that, you asshole!” Quinlan thumped the table, making the plasteelware rattle, and cuing a withering look from Bant. “You drop out of contact. You leave on a routine diplomatic mission. You get wrapped up in an interplanetary war, obviously, because that’s how your routine missions always go. And you come back with a kid and the head of a Sith?”

“You have the situation well in hand, Quinlan. There’s nothing more I can teach you.”

“Idiot! I’m not asking for a mission report, here.” Quinlan set his mouth, as tempestuous as ever. “Are you okay?”

Was he okay?

Maybe Bant caught something on his expression, because she placed a reassuring flipper on his arm. “We’re sorry about Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan. We know how much he meant to you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“You can’t get rid of us just because you don’t talk to us.” Siri scooped the rest of her oats in her mouth, clearly regretful that she no longer had something to hide behind. “Reeft and Garen feel the same way. You’re lucky Garen’s on a mission, or he would have staked out your door.” He would have. Garen was insane. “I know they waived the two weeks in solitude considering your circumstances, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need it. Anakin needs -”

“As his master, I have the best idea of what Anakin needs.” Obi-Wan kept his voice flat, dispassionate. He wasn’t a child anymore, not that impetuous Initiate who yelled and stomped and screamed. Obi-Wan had drowned that anger under thick layers of Jedi robe years ago. “I appreciate and understand your concern. However, I ask for faith in my abilities to handle my padawan.”

“Oh, no. Not the ‘I Am A Perfect Jedi And You Are The Irresponsible Bugs Beneath My Feet’ voice.” Siri didn’t sound amused, as she normally would be while making fun of him. What was funny about speaking properly? “Don’t shut down on us.”

“I’ve never understood where you got the impression that Jedi don’t have feelings, Obi-Wan,” Bant scolded, “but you know it’s not true. Jedi feel their feelings. They feel them and release them. This is you repressing them. They’re just going to fester and get worse if you do that.”

“Yes, Bant. I recieved top marks in Philosophy 101, same as you.” Obi-Wan picked at his sealed up, the rims of thick juice sloshing in the corners, before forcing himself to stop. He forced his hands still on the table, pressing them down hard on the linoleum. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what good a confession would do to all of you. Obviously I miss my master. Obviously I’m all…very sad about it.” Obi-Wan jerked his shoulders in a half-shrug, ignoring everyone’s unimpressed looks. “What good will talking about it do? I have to remain focused. In the real world, you don’t get the luxury of hermitage.”

“Luckily, you’re not in the real world.” Bant’s wry tone imparted the air quotes around ‘real world’. “You’re home. You and Anakin are safe here.” Obi-Wan snorted. “Knight Kenobi, what was that?”

Uh oh. But Siri unknowingly came to his rescue, leaning forward with as intent and sympathetic expression as she could wring from her usually severe countenance. “Don’t give me that dung, Obi-Wan. I cried for a month after Master Tahl died. You were there for me every second of it. What, are you so special that you don’t need help? Are you so much better than us that you don’t feel what every sentient feels? Your ‘better than you’ attitude doesn’t make you better than yourself.”

Bant made a warbling sound of frustration. “Siri, let’s not insult the person we are trying to help.”

“It’s not my fault he’s so - look, this is about Anakin -”

A tightly wound rope of...of something bad snapped in Obi-Wan’s gut. “You don’t think I can handle him.”

“Nobody’s saying that, brother,” Quinlan said, placating for the first time in his life, “but it’s like I was just telling the little guy, right? Nobody can do this by themselves. Cultures that try to do it are - they’re just crazy!”

“None of you think I can do this,” Obi-Wan whispered harshly, trying to keep the - the bad thing locked tight inside, incapable. It wouldn’t stop overflowing, a cup that runneth over. “Nobody in this Temple thinks I’m capable of taking care of him. They don’t think he can be a Jedi. It’s my fault. It’s because he has such a fuck-up for a master.”

Everybody around him suddenly radiated extreme alarm in the Force in unison. Was it really that unusual for him to say the words that swirled around in his head every hour of the day?

“Obi-Wan, we’re the fuck-ups. I mean, me and Siri and Garen. You and Bant are the Rylothian angels here.”

“That’s not what everybody else thinks,” Obi-Wan said lowly. “I’ve always been tainted because of Qui-Gon. Now just being around me is going to taint Anakin. Everybody knows it.”

“Tainted?” Bant asked with alarm. What was alarming? “What are you talking about -”

But Obi-Wan barrelled through her, unwilling to hear whatever sweet and placating words she had for him today. He stood up, carefully stepping off the bench and fussily fixing his robes with hands that did not shake. “We are going to prove it to them. Anakin will become a Jedi. I will make Anakin a Jedi, if it’s the last thing I do.”

He swept off, feeling a little bit dramatic, feeling as if he had expelled the smallest amount of emotion he could. That was the least he could give, portioning out bits of himself to the hungry and braying crowd. 

Why did they want these pieces of him so desperately? What was valuable about these hideous parts of Obi-Wan - the fear, the insecurity, the nightmares shaking him awake each night? People like Bant and Quinlan dug and dug and dug until they found what they were looking for, as if they wanted to prove something to themselves, to him, to the Jedi. 

Prove that he was inferior. Prove that he was just as wild and angry as everybody always said. Prove that his flimsy mask of ‘A Perfect Jedi’ was nothing more than a stage actor placing a pulp-mache bantha’s head mask over his face and strutting about as if he was a king.  Prove what Qui-Gon had always thought of him: that any love for him could only be held at arm's length, that a kid who needed to prove himself never required support or a helping hand, that there was no such thing as ‘good enough’ when you lived in competition with ghosts and shadows. 

Prove what everybody knew, and what Obi-Wan could not hide.

***

When Obi-Wan got home, Anakin was lying on the ground committing atrocities upon the ravaged corpse of a pilfered library droid.

“Please start putting down a tarp when you do that,” Obi-Wan said. “You’ve been getting oil into the carpet.” He paused a beat. “And please stop sneaking away from chaperones.”

“But I need to practice sneaking away from good guys so I can be good at sneaking away from bad guys! And it’s not like I was caught.” Anakin didn’t look up at him, absorbed in his work. “That’s Jedi lesson three, right? ‘Do whatever you want, just don’t get caught’?”

“When had - why do -” Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose, already regretting the one day exposure to Qui-Gon. But..in the face of that logic, Obi-Wan was forced to concede. It was objectively true. “Yes. But make an exception for me. Just don’t get caught by others.”

“You got it! Hey, pinch this wire for me.”

So Obi-Wan lay down on his stomach across from Anakin, staring at him from over a sea of rusty machinery. His round little face, somehow still clinging onto baby fat, was smooth as only a child’s could be. It was flaky and rough from the blistering heat of twin suns, but he had ointment now. His featherly light blonde hair would darken without its sunshine bleach, and it would grow long in limp brown shags. He would look like his mother - if, apparently, there was no father to speak of. 

His expression was screwed up in concentration, tongue poking out of his teeth as he carefully screwed in a bolt where it likely was not intended to go. There was something strangely beautiful about him in that moment - an intelligence at work, a powerful focus rarely applied. He glowed in the Force like a sun, overwhelming and breath-taking. 

But when Obi-Wan’s breath caught, he wasn’t sure if it was the Force. Maybe it was just Anakin. Could you fall in love like this? Just by looking at somebody, just by feeling how great they could be? Stronger than Obi-Wan, more righteous than Qui-Gon? Kinder than Master Dooku, more vibrant than Grandmaster Yoda? 

Could he be better? Or would Obi-Wan only make him worse?

“Do you like my friends?” Obi-Wan whispered.

“Gimmie a min’.” Anakin finished screwing the bolt, huffing at the piece. “Bad. Gotta redo...what didya say?”

“Do you like my friends?”

“Oh!” Anakin brightened. “They’re super cool and awesome Jedi! They’re just like I thought Jedi would be. Bant’s a doctor! Did you know that?”

“I did.” A pang shot through Obi-Wan’s heart. “They’d be better teachers than I. I’m sorry, Anakin. I’m sorry you’re stuck with…”

“No way! I’m sorry you’re stuck with me, Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s expression crumpled a little, although he bravely tried to keep it straight. He was already picking that up from Obi-Wan. “I’m why everybody keeps looking at us weird...it’s all my fault. All the Jedi hate us.”

“Anakin, no. The Jedi love all sentient beings.” Judging from Anakin’s expression, Obi-Wan was speaking straight bantha poodoo and acting as if the Corellian moons were made of cheese. “It’s true. They’d - they’d all help you. You don’t need to rely on me.”

Wires hissed and sparked. Anakin was quiet for a moment, stripping some wires with a deft, chubby hand and tying them together. He reached out to grab a blowtorch, but at Obi-Wan’s dangerous expression he carefully retreated his hand. It was a matter of time until he was using his lightsaber to solder metal. Incorrigible. Finally, Anakin said, “What Mr. Quinlan -”

“Knight Quinlan.”

“Knight Quinlan was talking about how you’re just there to guide me and teach me the Jedi way for a few years. And they all acted like the master and padawan thing is so special and great, but…” His face crumpled a little, overcome by an emotion he couldn’t name. “When we had to leave Mom behind...I thought that meant that you were going to be Mom now. But they aren’t going to let us. They’re going to make other people teach me because they don’t like you, and - and - and!”

Fat tears were rolling down Anakin’s cheeks, no matter how hard he scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. Obi-Wan quickly sat up and moved closer to Anakin, wrapping him in a hug and letting Anakin press his head into Obi-Wan’s tunic. He would probably have to get this one cleaned with Anakin’s robe. He didn’t know why he was focusing on that instead of Anakin’s hitched breaths as he tried to control his tears.

“Nobody’s going to take you away from me, Anakin.” That wasn’t what he meant to say. That was far too possessive. That hadn’t come out right. But what had Obi-Wan meant to say? “We all just want what’s best for you. You might be happier with the others.” Obi-Wan faltered. “You could be a normal child here. Take lessons. Play with the other children. Learn and grow and be happy. My padawanship, Anakin...it was dangerous and isolated. That’s the kind of life I’ve always lived. I don’t want to expose you to that.”

Anakin separated from him, eyes red-rimmed but dry. “They aren’t strong! All the kids and the old people here - they’re weak! Nothing bad’s ever happened to them, so they think sad people like us are freaks. But you’re strong, Obi-Wan. I want to be strong and just like you. I’m not embarrassed to be your padawan.” He faltered a little, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s okay that you’re sad and that I had to make food for a little bit. Mom would get sad sometimes too. She couldn’t leave bed and stuff. I would take care of Mom and make her food. I don’t mind making you food. The slaves all had each other, we did, but...Mom and I took care of each other. We can take care of each other. It’s just you and me. Right?”

Obi-Wan embraced Anakin tightly, fighting to control his breathing. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t the correct way to do this. He had to be more like Qui-Gon - professional and strong and affectionate. Qui-Gon would have never let Obi-Wan cling to him like this, swearing an oath that neither of them should ever make. 

Nobody was going to help them. None of them had ever forgotten how Obi-Wan had been a failure as a child, and none of them were ever going to forget where Anakin came from. No matter what they all said, their bright smiles and helping hands - none of them understood what it was like. It was just Obi-Wan and Anakin from now on. 

In some strange way, it felt as if it had always been. As if Obi-Wan had only been alone, because he had not met or loved Anakin yet. 

This wasn’t the kind of master Obi-Wan should be. He should be discouraging this desperation and neediness. But he couldn’t discourage it in himself, and he had no idea how to quench it in either of them. 

As the Rylothians would say - if this was a sin, then hell had greater need of him than heaven. 

He would put in the request for active mission duty. If Anakin grew up like he did - in the midst of adventure and hardship - then he could attain the strength he so desired. That was all Obi-Wan knew how to offer, and that was Qui-Gon’s legacy.

“It’s just you and me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan swore, and damned himself. “It’s just you and me…”

#star wars #sw #star wars fanfic #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #bant eerin #siri tachi #quinlan vos #this is the first and last star wars thing you will ever get from me #please don't ask the rationale i have secrets #i like to think that nothing bad happens in this universe #(it's not an AU but it's not NOT an AU? up to interpretation) #because Obiwan in canon is on anakin's ass about everything #and here he's just one of those single parents who's like 'ok so long as you're fed and not on fire i don't have energy to care #about anything else' #I think this was written from joking about how comedically and weirdly terrible obiwan's childhood was #and from my own personal feelings about the weird way the sw fandom understands communal childcare #and nonattachment #It Does Not Mean What You Think It Means (Because George Lucas Is A White Guy Buddhist!) #if you're wondering if the behavior by the jedi here is realistic or nomal or if it's positive or negative #I have lived in a monastery and it is the most accurate thing you will ever see in a SW fic #my writing

[etheriaaly]

Just The Two Of Us [C! Tommyinnit x GN! Reader]

FLUFF TO ANGST (PLATONIC)  WARNINGS: Mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, character death, cursing

Reader pronouns: They/them 

A/N: Hi, this is my first DSMP fanfic so uhh I hope u enjoy lmao. There might be grammatical errors so pls do not mind it :D

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ∣ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

—

[Y/N] already lost count of all the pranks and chaos they made with Tommy. They didn't like causing havoc or pulling pranks on people but if Tommy asked them to tag along, they would. Tommy is their best friend after all. Plus, where's the fun in life without a little risk?

[Y/N] was just at their Cottage house, peacefully making the potions that Quackity ordered just hours ago. Since [Y/N] is a skilled witch, it was no shock when they owned a Potions business. Everyone in the SMP server knows about this and they usually come and buy their potions. 

They were about to finish the last set of potions that Quackity ordered until they ran out of ingredients. "Dammit." [Y/N] muttered under their breath. They turned around and immediately went to find if they have any stock ingredients in their barrels or chests.

When they saw no stock ingredients, [Y/N] sighed and decided to do some last minute ingredients grinding. It was until they opened the door and saw Tommy standing in front of their house door.

[Y/N] knew that his presence is no good because that motherfucker is grinning ear to ear. They playfully groaned and asked, "What is it this time child?"

"Hey, I told you not to call me a child anymore!" Tommy suddenly protested, feeling insulted but went back to his sly grin and said, "Let's prank Skeppy and Bad." 

"That's a horrible idea." 

"Come on, bitch. It'll be fun." 

And they did come with Tommy. A couple hours had passed and [Y/N] had already forgotten about the ingredients they were gonna get for Quackity's potions. Tommy said that Big Q's order can wait but the prank can't. 

It wasn't long after Bad and Skeppy saw the two teenagers doing their little harmless prank on them. 

[Y/N] caught sight of the two and immediately tugged on Tommy's shirt. "Fuck, Tommy we gotta go." 

Tommy, unfazed and still focused on the prank, said, "Just a little longer." 

[Y/N] nudged Tommy's side using her elbows as the two teenagers can now hear Skeppy and Bad's incoherent yelling drawing closer and closer to them. 

"RUN!" [Y/N] yelled as they both left the things they used to try to prank BBH and Skeppy. 

The two let out a laugh as they ran away. Tommy constantly turned his head back to see if Skeppy and Bad are still after them. 

[Y/N] and Tommy continued to run even though Bad and Skeppy stopped coming after them. It wasn't until the two teenagers finally stopped running so that they could catch their breath. 

"What now?" [Y/N] gasped, who is still out of breath from both running and laughing at the same time. They looked at Tommy. 

Tommy grinned again and then grabbed their arm, "I have something pog to show you." 

[Y/N] didn't question Tommy and just let him drag them to a mountain. 

Once they have reached the destination, [Y/N] let out a 'wow'. The view is breathtaking and it is very peaceful. The mountain isn't that very far from the SMP but it looks like very few have come across this part. 

"So, what do you think?" Tommy asked, looking at the view. The view consists of the calming ocean waves and a peaceful sunsetting with birds passing by. 

[Y/N] turned to Tommy and smiled, "This could be our secret spot." They slowly walked towards the edge of the mountain cliff but were immediately stopped by Tommy. 

"Oh, [Y/N] wait. Be careful, the edge of the cliff looks really faulty." Tommy warned. 

[Y/N] immediately stepped back a little and took note of what Tommy said. But, they were still curious and looked down at the edge of the cliff, only to see the water from below. 

If someone would fall from this cliff and took a heavy impact on the water, that person wouldn't survive due to how high the mountain cliff is. 

[Y/N] then proposed, "You know, when things are stressful and stuff. We can just go here, sit in silence and look at the view as the wind or the waves takes away our problems for a while." 

"Just the two of us." The blonde haired lad said and then they both stood in silence, admiring the view and beauty of the server. 

Oh, if only you could turn back in time and relive this memory. If only things are still the same the way it was before. 

It's been so long since [Y/N] had fun and peace. Probably so many months since Tommy first showed them their secret mountain hangout area. 

[Y/N] currently stood still, gazing at the view that was once calm and peaceful but was now replaced with sounds of flying TNTs, fireworks and screams from the background.

They were in no state of mind as of the moment. They don't even know what to do anymore. A lot has changed ever since the wars, the exilation of Tommy. 

[Y/N] sniffed, wiping their tears using their now mangy sleeves caused by the current chaotic event. They continued to stare at the ocean, a potion of poison glistening in their hands. 

[Y/N] looked at the Potion of Poison that they were holding and pondered whether to drink it or not. 

Maybe it's best to end it once and for all. They don't have anywhere to go anyways. They don't have any friends or family to turn back to since everyone is against them or thought badly of them now. 

[Y/N] can't even go back to L’manberg as well since they're now a wanted criminal for breaking the laws and escaping from their house since they're supposed to be on house arrest for the crimes they didn't even do. 

They opened the cork of the potion, but they didn't drink it yet. They let their mind wander for a while and process everything that has happened. 

Maybe Dream was right. Maybe the people they loved never even cared for them at all. Maybe it was all just a lie. Maybe—

"[Y/N]." A familiar voice that they haven't heard in a while. 

It was windy. The cool breeze of air touched their skins. But along with the wind, there are particles of TNT or fireworks dusts. 

The [H/C] haired person turned around and saw their best friend for the first time in months. 

"Tommy." [Y/N] replied. Their voice were hoarse and dry. "What are you- What are you doing here?" 

"I could ask you the same thing." Tommy glared at them.

[Y/N] quietly groaned, closed their eyes for a while and pinched their nose bridge, still holding the potion on their other hand. "So, you believe all that shit?"

"Enough for me to believe the fact you tried to murder Tubbo, burn my invites and team up with Dream." 

Tommy added, "Maybe they were right about you. You're Dream's sibling after all." 

[Y/N] scoffed and threw their available hand around the air, "He may be my sibling, but we are never alike." 

"Why, [Y/N]? Why did you do it?" Tommy asked, hands gripping tighter on his sword. "Did Dream finally get into your head for you to commit these crimes? Or did you just do it because it's in your blood?" 

"You don't know a thing that happened," [Y/N] harshly spit back, completely trying to avoid the topic of Dream. "Of course you don't. You were exiled."

Tommy never understood why. Why had they turned like this? He felt rage and betrayal. During his exiled time, Tommy thought that they were gonna be that one person who would try to find him. Comfort him or even send him secret coded messages. But no, he received nothing. 

It hurts. Hurts like hell to know your best friend turned their back on everyone. A best friend that he has known for years. A part of him wants to believe they didn't do it but the proofs are enough for him to believe it was really them. 

"Well, you really can't blame me can you? You can only blame yourself," [Y/N] said. "This all started because of you and your stupid discs. All you ever care about is the FUCKING DISCS. Wars started, lives were lost, relationships were destroyed, all just because of those discs." 

They had never done this before. This was their first time just being angry and shouting at each other. Although this might be new to each other, it was obvious that they have been bottling up their emotions way too long. 

"You know what?! Things would be so much better if only you didn't exist." Tommy instantly regretted what he said as soon as he saw a potion glisten from [Y/N]'s hands. 

He may not be an expert but he knew well enough of the potions due to him hanging out too much with them before. "What are you doing?" Tommy immediately asked. "Is that a potion of poison?" 

"Nothing for you to care about." [Y/N] turned back towards the cliff and stared at the view once again. 

"Just the two of us again here, huh?" They said as they pulled the potion towards their mouth, just inches away from the lips now until Tommy hurriedly ran towards [Y/N] and tackled them. 

"What are you, an idiot?!" Tommy scolded as they both fought each other while trying not to fall from the cliff. He tried to pull the potion of poison away but it was hard since they kept gripping on it. 

It wasn't until Tommy was finally able to remove the potion from [Y/N]'s grasps. He threw the potion far away as it got smashed on the ground. 

The two of them were too busy fighting over the potion to notice that one of them is now standing on the faulty edge of the cliff. 

[Y/N] was on the edge of the cliff and accidentally backed away from Tommy, thinking there was still space. A loud shriek came out of their mouth.

Tommy immediately ran towards the edge, scrambled on his feet and looked down. Luckily, [Y/N] was able to hold onto the edge but their hands are shaky and tired from all the things that just happened. 

"I got you, I got you." Tommy frantically muttered, his breath increasing as to not knowing what will happen next. 

[Y/N] grip is slowly failing. Once their hands slipped, Tommy instantly grabbed their hands and tried to pull them back up. But, he too was tired from everything that has been happening. 

He tried to pull them up again but it was no use. Stress was adding up even more the moment they both felt the edge of the cliff shaking once more. 

Tommy can't do it anymore. So, he let out all the tears he's been trying to fight back. 

"It's gonna be okay, Tommy. Let me go." 

The blonde haired teen's eyes widened at [Y/N]'s statement. He can't do it. He can't bear to lose another loved one in his life. 

"I can't lose you too, [N/N]." Tommy croaked. 

The two might've fought just minutes ago but this is now a life and death situation. Problems and angst aside, they still care for each other. 

"You already did." Tommy's eyes widened in confusion and sadness. [Y/N] forced their hand to slip from his as Tommy tried to tighten it even more. [Y/N] had a few energies remaining, so they used it to push themselves off the cliff with their foot, making Tommy let go. 

For Tommy, everything is going so fast that his mind almost stopped working. 

But everything was in slow motion for [Y/N]. The fresh wind was so refreshing, almost making them forget what is currently happening to them. 

They closed their eyes, not wanting to see anymore reactions from Tommy. This is their end. This was meant to be. 

The moment [Y/N] chose to fall out from Tommy's grip, the blonde panicked and set aside all items he had with him. Without thinking properly, he lunged himself off the cliff. The only goal he had in mind was to save [Y/N] before it's too late. 

But he was, indeed, late. 

Everyone's communicator beeped. They all took at least some time to look at what the message could be on the communicator. As soon as everyone read the 2 words, their jaws dropped. 

[Y/N] drowned. 

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #platonic tommyinnit x reader #dreamsmp #dsmp #dreamsmp x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x yn #angst #c!tommyinnit #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader angst #platonic #tommy #gn!reader #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit fanfic #etheriaaly

[moonctzeny]

Promotion

This is technically a part 2 of my fic Work for it but it can be enjoyed on its own!

pairing: supervisor !johnny x intern ! female reader x assistant !haechan

genre: smutty goodness (this will send me to hell vip)

word count: almost 14k

summary: “After you fuck the Sales’ department supervisor, Johnny Suh in your office during an overtime, you’re left to deal with the unavoidable lingering emotions that come with getting his dick on the regular. At the same time, his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, who initially helped you with getting with his boss, realises his growing crush on you that is too big to be ignored at this point. With their masterful skills in seduction, you’ve ended up tangled in a sexual game with the both of them, all the while trying to move up from an intern to a permanent worker in the company”

warnings: threesome w/ two doms, alcohol consumption, mention of food (meat, lettuce, eggs), oral, overstimulation, thigh job, at some point- reader borrows a shirt from haechan and it’s mentioned that it’s ‘too big on the shoulders’, thigh riding, office sex, pussy slapping, choking, fingering, sir kink thrown in there at some point, a little degradation bc this is my fic we’re talking about

a/n: omg it’s finally done! I really love this so I hope you guys like it as well :)

taglist:  @rainodanna​, @markresonates​, @unknown5tar​, @yoongsicles​

For every other worker in the office, virtually nothing had changed. 

They relive the same mundane routine, Monday after Monday, the same excruciating 8 hours and short cigarette breaks. The same trees, stuck in their ceramic imprisonment would greet them in the company’s entrance. Rigid and dusty and reeking of cheap plastic. It’s not like they’d come alive, open their little mouths on their thylakoid membranes and tell everyone you fucked mr. Suh, the Sales Department’s supervisor, in your office during your overtime. No, that’s not possible, you reminded yourself when you pass by them every morning, giving them a side eye for good measure, as if that would scare them off their zombie state.

And you were the same too, completing your tasks and meeting your deadlines. Blending in with the rest of the company’s human resource, with the exception of the occasional double take of some tactless male worker here and there.

Donghyuck, however, said supervisor’s assistant and your best friend, wasn’t your typical office worker. He noticed the extra layer of cherry lip gloss coating your lips. He noticed your new perfume, sweeter than the one you used to wear. He noticed the knowing smiles between you and his boss, the heat of your body when you were around him. And it wasn’t just because he was sharp overall.

He was the one who practically got you together, planted the seed in Johnny’s head about the cute new intern of the Financial Department. He was the one who convinced him to finally make a move on you, tired of seeing you trying over and over again to seduce the supervisor to your bed. 

And when that seed finally sprouted, in the form of Johnny spitting in your mouth and taking you on your office chair like you were his last fuck on earth (according to the hair-raising description you gave Donghyuck the morning after), he should’ve been happy, right? 

It didn’t really affect his life in the slightest.

You were just y/n. His friend, his work buddy. The person whom he was close enough to let you know you had a piece of lettuce stuck on your teeth from that sandwich you had on your break. The person who texted him funny gifs of pandas falling asleep during the most boring of meetings. With your nerdy glasses and that ugly brown suit you loved wearing so much. The person he dreamt of fucking every time he fell asleep.

When you told Donghyuck you had a crush on his boss he wasn’t shocked, but the stinging buzz in his guts surprised him. He would see you waltz right past his office all perked up and pretty, to see the person you really came for, nervous as you hung from every word that left Johnny’s mouth. He’d put up with the sound of you giggling over every stupid joke that left the older man’s mouth patiently, just to wait until he’d smell your sweet perfume as you’d walk past him again. To tease you over something that would make you mad enough to notice him, glare at him, maybe even hit him.

And Donghyuck wanted to hate Johnny, he really did. His stupid boss who asked for his coffee specifically made, who was rude and cranky on Monday mornings and got the credit for all his hard work, yet Johnny was nothing of the sort. He was helpful, and kind and let him off early. He was funny and good looking and taller than him and had a six pack, damn it. If Donghyuck was being honest, he didn’t just like his boss, he admired him. It was pathetic, he thought. Most days he’d live vicariously through him. 

Sometimes he would lay on his bed at night, picturing himself to be the second lead of a romance drama that would sweep you off your feet. Everyone gets second lead fever, right? In his rem cycles, he’s handsome and hilarious and much more interesting than the main actor. He would imagine himself stretching out his rays, like the full, rising sun that he was, until they overcame the big mountain that was Johnny and reached your skin. So hot against it that you’d have to undress, remove the clothes sticking on your sweaty skin to embrace him. 

He thought about your body a hundred times too many for it to be considered healthy. The curve of your ass in your pencil skirts, the little hairs on the nape of your neck that stuck out from your tight ponytails. The runs on your tights that he wished were caused by the sharpness of his fingernails. He listened to your voice carefully, all 90 Hz of it, and played it inside his head as if it was an instrument. Putting together chords and harmonies, composing a music piece of all the ways his name would sound like coming out of your lips.

Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck

“Earth to Donghyuck? Are you listening to me?”

It was unlike him to be out of it, especially when he was around you. He blames it on skipping coffee this morning or the shade of red of your blouse that fits you so well. Either way, he had to respond, and keep the pink from flooding his cheeks further. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going on inside his head.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. So, let me get this straight. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want a relationship?”

You were upset, he could tell. After the night of the overtime, you and Johnny had indulged in a few more nights of each other’s presence, but had kept it at that. Sex. Delicious, mind blowing, porno worthy sex, but nothing more than that. And you were starting to itch for a little bit more.

Donghyuck was right, of course. You were the one who told Johnny that this wasn’t the right time in your life for any sort of commitment, especially with someone in the workplace. This was your internship, and you were determined to get a permanent position soon, that should be your first priority. Get the bag and go. There were men everywhere. But why was your heart aching for that particular one with the long hair and the caramel eyes and the flower tattoos? 

“I just don’t want people at work to gossip about us, you know how they get. But seeing him so nonchalant about it gets on my nerves.”

Leaving his apartment at 2 am when he was sprawled out on his bed, in just pyjama pants and the light layer of sweat from the athletic sex you just had, hurt enough. It was a sight so beautifully hidden under his work attire that it soon became addictive, the withdrawal symptoms too intense for you to have your dose only once a week. 

Donghyuck scowled when you first let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes pitifully following his boss’s silhouette around. He knew you’d never really complain about it, you were set on that promotion and you deserved it too, but it was hard not to get angry. Everything he ever wanted stood willing and ready for taking in front of Johnny’s lap, how could he not claim you?

He hated seeing you sad.

“Let’s go for a drink. I think you need it.”

Even he surprised himself with the sudden proposition, blinking back at you to gauge your reaction. You were best work buddies, sure, but you never hung out after office hours alone. It would make sense for you to refuse, Donghyuck told himself, trying to soften the blow of a potential rejection. You’re probably tired from working, or maybe you’d feel awkward to be alone with him for so long. Maybe you hated to drink, or maybe you hated him. Oh God, what if you hated him? What if you only spent time with him out of social obligat-

“Sure, sounds good. Pick me up after you’re done? Since you’re on the top floor.”

Donghyuck nodded back at you, too eagerly for his liking, the gears in his brain already trying to figure out where he should take you. You excused yourself back to your office, the small pat you gave his shoulder making him grin like an idiot.

This is not a date, he reminded himself. 

He had dreamt of this moment for months now. He thought about you every time he walked past that korean bbq place, promising himself that one day he’d muster the courage to finally ask you out. This wasn’t exactly the case today, but it was as close to his imagination as possible. This is not a date.

He repeated that phrase over and over again, let it resonate inside his head. This is not a date because he is a coward and you like someone else. Was he a bad person for taking you out today? Was he taking advantage of your slight disappointment? Was that why you ever said yes in the first place? The self deprecating thoughts lit a fire in his belly and he tried to extinguish it with every shot of clear liquid that disappeared from between his full lips. Like he expected, you weren’t far behind on the drinking either, enjoying the grilled pieces of meat blissfully, moaning in satisfaction with every delicious bite.

You looked pretty before, but now, through the pink coloured glasses of intoxication, you were stunning. There was a halo of bright light surrounding you, making you look so celestial chomping on that piece of lettuce. If it was anyone else, he would pull a face of repugnance at the sight, yet Dongyuck thought that you just looked so cute, so content in that little moment and he wished he could just lean in and leave a kiss over your filled cheeks.

No, that was a dangerous thought. This is not a date, pull it together.

Donghyuck desperately tried to focus his attention somewhere else, anywhere but you would suffice. His eyes finally landed on a bowl of marinated eggs on the table, and it reminded him of the three boiled eggs he makes for breakfast every morning. He was a man of habit, following the same routine until he’d see you and you’d colour between the lines of his life, making it interesting finally. Donghyuck would fill the pot with more water than needed, just enough so that it doesn’t overflow. He liked to be closer to you than he could handle, close enough but never touching you.

Lost in his daydream, he doesn’t realise that he hasn’t talked in minutes. And when you touch his hand lightly with yours to bring him out of it, he almost feels the boiling water burning his skin.

“You’re so quiet”, you say with a chuckle, and Donghyuck makes a mental note to add this harmony to his composition, “you got drunk before I did? Are you really Lee Donghyuck?”

“Well see, I drank all this soju, so I wish I was someone else for the night.”

The statement saddened you, and you withered a little in your seat. Why did Donghyuck drink so much tonight? You came here for you to cheer up, didn’t you? Or were you so caught up in your little personal drama - that you caused yourself - that you missed hearing about his cat dying? You must offer your condolences. Did he even have a cat?

You don’t want to bring up his dead cat in case he did so you just lift your hand next to his head, and weave your fingers through his locks. He has been growing out his hair for months now, and the look might not be the most corporate-professional but it sure fit him. The ash blonde shade that he decided to colour it, brought out the tan of his skin nicely, and the hair itself though bleached was still soft to the touch. 

You see him react to the work of your fingers instantly, his expression shocking you. His mouth is hanging open in a loose ‘O’ shape, small wrinkles forming on the space between his eyebrows. You pick out small pieces of hair, one by one, letting gravity do the rest by allowing the individual hairs to return to their previous state. 

“What are you thinking about?”, you ask so softly it’s almost a whisper, and Donghyuck can only sigh.

YOU, he wants to scream, you’re in my mind all day long and I think I’m going crazy! He is full on staring at you now and there’s nothing in the world that can take his eyes off of you, off your worried eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the sky, or the soft skin of your neck that he wants to kiss and suck and break so badly. But he doesn’t, and the soju calls him a coward for it, so he settles for the next best thing.

“You are pretty”

It was just three words but they sent your mind in a frenzy. Why did it matter so much to you that Donghyuck found you pleasing to look at? He has complimented you before, even flirted with you a lot of times, yet it was always said half-jokingly, followed by a diss. But this time he was serious, no signs of alcohol clouding his eyes. He was so solemn in fact, that those three words made the heat burn on the skin of your cheeks, rising up your throat and hindering you from responding with a human sound. 

He takes one more shot, washing away the embarrassment of his sudden confession and offers to order one more fatty dish to sober up, then take a walk in the city.

The walk was relatively quiet, less awkward than it was 30 minutes ago but Donghyuck was still being uncharacteristically silent.

“I thought you said that alcohol doesn’t make you red”, you say teasingly, trying to spark conversation. 

It doesn’t actually. You were the culprit of the wash of burgundy all over his skin, accumulating even more pigmented around his ears and the freckles of his nose. You were walking side by side now, and Donghyuck thought that for the passersby you two must look like lovers. He let his brain entertain that fantasy, his hand itching to hold yours. He’d intertwine your fingers together, give your palm a little rub with his thumb. Then he’d lift the bundle of fingers on his lips, kiss the thin skin of your wrist and make the aunties that are looking at you now coo in adoration.

“Says you. You look so fucked right now.”, he jokes and you’re relieved to see him go back to his teasing self. You don’t know if it’s the chilly night, but you’re overly aware of the heat his body emits, and the smell of his cologne makes your head spin just a bit more. You’ve been sitting so close to him this entire time that you can list off most, if not all, the ingredients in his perfume. Rose, chilly pepper, orange blossom, lavender. 

“Donghyuck, I will step on you.”

“Mmm, tempting”

You shove his arm playfully and he reciprocates, but his strength is not as controlled as he thinks. The heels of your boots, slippery against the wet floor that the drizzle caused earlier, make you trip on your steps, and Hyuck is luckily there. With his quick reflexes he catches your elbows first, pulling you up against his chest and you grab his left bicep to support your weight. 

You take a deep breath, to register that you did not fall head first on the floor, and that’s when you realise how close Donghyuck is to you. His bangs are tickling your forehead, your deep pants fanning them apart. You admire his glowing skin, the wrinkles of his lips, the two moles lined parallelly with the bridge of his nose. You’re not sure what comes to you, but you raise your free hand and place it over his hot cheek, your thumb connecting those two moles with an invisible line. A raindrop, fresh out of the sky and signifying the start of a new drizzle, falls on his face and follows the trail that a tear would, his voice weak and breaking when he speaks again.

“I’m sorry”

He dips down his head then, connecting your lips and letting the plumpness of his mouth reel you in. You’re over the initial shock almost immediately and kiss him back in vigor, surprised with the heat his kiss has spread to your chest and belly. It was an ember at first, glowing in the very depth of your insides but it was soon starting to spark up uncontrollably, and you were scared of how rapidly it was fueling up. This was your friend you were kissing. So where did all this hunger for him come from?

You pull back when you realise you’re in a road full of people, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eyes. Donghyuck looks disheveled and anxious, and he apologizes again before he urges you to keep walking with him.

“It’s starting to rain. We should get home.”

You walk next to him in complete silence now, stealing quick glances of his reflexion at every surface that made it possible -  the windows of the parked cars, the puddles of water on the sidewalk, a passersby’s glasses. The look on his face is unreadable, pensive if anything else, and it’s rare for the expressive Donghyuck you’re used to dealing with. Your homes are towards the same direction, his a little closer than yours, and it doesn’t take too long for you to reach the entrance of his building, your clothes not even half wet from walking without umbrellas.

Donghyuck fumbles to find his keys, his hands shaking from the adrenaline his body released from the kiss earlier, the feeling still too fresh against his lips. He stresses thinking of what to do next. Should he hug you goodnight? Apologize again for kissing you? Unlock the entrance without a word and never speak to you again? 

“I’m here”, he states dumbly, as if you’d sit at the porch of a strange house and he avoids your eyes as if you were Medusa, “Goodnight.”

You smile back awkwardly at him, waving with a hand made of clay as you wish him the same. He has turned around to unlock the door, key already at the keyhole and you turn to leave too when his voice stills you in place.

“He’s an idiot.” His back is still facing you, and when he turns to look at you his eyes finally lock with yours, as honest and earnest as ever. “Johnny. If it were me, hell, if you wanted me like that I would grab that opportunity- grab you in an instant, convince you to be mine any way I could.”

You’re stuck looking at him like a fool, trying to comprehend what he’s saying and the complications of it. He puffs out through his nose, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Goodnight y/n.”

Donghyuck is half inside the entrance now and your body suddenly exits its frozen state, blocking the door from closing with your boot. He’s shocked with the sudden movement and he opens up the door further for you. You get inside the little hall without thinking, sitting firmly in front of him, a puzzled look on his face. 

“What if I told you he hasn’t even crossed my mind this whole time we were out? What if I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you kissed me? Would it matter then?”

He opens his mouth momentarily, as if to speak but decides to stay silent. He already said everything he needed. It’s up to you now.

And you aren’t ready to leave yet.

You take a step forward to close the distance between you, your chests touching and you pick up the distinct smell of soju in his breath. You’re not sure if it’s that smell or the proximity but you feel drunk all over again, the yellow light of the hall shining disturbingly bright down at you and urging you to do something.

You plant a kiss over his neck, leaving a trace of the remnants of the pink lipstick you applied at the start of the workday. It was tentative, but you could still feel his raging pulse from under your lips. You could feel it get faster too, the rhythm going higher along with his body temperature and you decide on a path. A path of kisses starting from the same spot you’ve turned glittery pink, up his jawline and all the way to his earlobe.

Donghyuck clenches his jawline, you feel that too, and something snaps inside him. He just can’t take it anymore, having you so close to him, your lips on his neck and doing nothing about it. The boiling water finally spilled over the pot, hot and overflowing, and he doesn’t care if he gets burned.

You feel the cool wood against your back before you taste his tongue a second after. He has pushed you up against the entrance door, you realize, but it’s hard to comprehend anything around you when he kisses you like that. It’s the steamy, purposeful continuation of the kiss you shared earlier, and with the lack of prying eyes Donghyuck has a good idea of where he wants it to lead.

He shows you too, pushing his knee between your thighs and he feels your heat almost melt the rough fabric of his jeans. There are so many things he wants to do, so many lines he wants to cross but there is one thing he must ensure.

“Tell me you want this.”

You glide your hands upwards from his pecks to the slope of his neck and wrap them around his neck. Your body seems to act up on its own, and you feel yourself grinding down his leg that is still positioned against the wall. It feels dirty, the desperation of it all, and you connect your chest with his again before answering him.

“Lee Donghyuck. I want you to make me cum” 

You grab his hand before he gets to respond, the cool silver of his watch digging against your fingers, and you drag him to the elevator door. As if the universe had sensed your urgency, you find it waiting for you at the bottom floor, and you pull him inside with a tug of his tie.

In no time you find yourself pushed up against the wall again, and you can’t see much beyond Donghyuck’s lips, but you do catch him clumsily pressing the button to his floor with your peripheral vision. Once the elevator is in motion you feel like you can finally submerge yourself in his lips and the way his kisses take your breath away, not sure if the funny feeling in your stomach is from the sudden change in altitude or the arousal. You’re already taking his clothes off, removing the jacket of his suit off his shoulders and working the top buttons of his shirt open.

It’s him that drags you to his apartment this time, urging you out of the elevator as soon as the robotic declaim of his floor number rips through the wet sounds of you kissing. His keys are already easily accessible in his front pocket from your conversation earlier, and when he manages to unlock the entrance with trembling hands you walk inside as if you own the place.

It’s small and cozy, decorated minimally. The first thing you notice is that it smells like Donghyuck, something that should be obvious but it still overwhelms you. It’s maybe a bit stuffy from the hours he was gone yet this is the smell still lingering in your nose from his skin you were sucking just moments ago, trying to distract him from the easy task of opening the door. It’s addictive and you want it stuck on yours.

And Donghyuck does stick on your skin, discarding his tie on the floor with a strong pull and finishing the task of unbuttoning his shirt that you started in the elevator. His movements are impatient and soon he’s half naked, and you barely have time to admire his caramel skin before his hands are all over you. They start safely at the dimples of your waist, then sliding upwards to your ribcage and copping a feel of the underside of your boobs by sneaking his thumbs under the wire of your bra. You want to feel more, encourage his probing fingers so you reach to the clasp on your back, unfastening the garment and removing it through the hem of your blouse. 

Donghyuck can’t take his eyes off your chest, nipples hardened from your arousal and poking through the thin fabric. He takes his thumbs, the same thumbs that lit a fire in your belly earlier and flips the bud, toying it around and rubbing circles around it. The response from you is immediate, moans that start off soft and build up to a crescendo bouncing off the walls of his apartment.

It drives you crazy, a little bit, that smirk he has on his face now. It’s so familiar in between his features, you’ve seen it countless of times, especially during his typical teasings of you, yet is carries so much newfound weight now, so much sex appeal. He’s already giving you what you need but the climaxing is too slow for your liking, you want more and you want it now. You want what you asked him for in the lobby of this building.

Donghyuck can either read your mind or read through the increased frequency of your moans because he undresses down to his boxers, forming a trail of clothes from his living room to his bedroom, where he has led you. He doesn’t even bother to open the lights, relying on the moonlight from his window for lighting and pushing you down on his bedsheets. 

He climbs up with you, hovering over you and you move back a bit so that your head rests comfortably over his pillows. If the smile he gave you earlier had affected you, then the hungry look on his face right now almost makes you come untouched, his eyes raking up and down your body as if he doesn’t know where to start.

He decides on your calves, kissing them and moving upwards slowly and sensually, not missing the sensitive skin on the side of your knees and paying extra attention to your inner thighs. He’s still at it a minute and a half later, and you can’t tell in the dark but you’re sure they must be decorated by bite marks by now, his close proximity to the source of your pleasure making you squirm in his hold.  

It feels like ages since you last felt his fingers when he grips the soft meat of your thighs and spreads them apart. They soon move up to the hem of your skirt, rolling the fabric upwards and over your ass. You feel his breath against your pussy, making it tingle and twitch even more than it already has, and the wait feels like a new level of hell in Dante’s Inferno. 

A single finger pets you over your underwear, drawing lines over the damp fabric from your clit down to your entrance and then up again. You whimper and whine at the sensation that is half a step from what you consider satisfactory and he hooks a finger on the black lace, moving it to the side and letting you experience the cool air of the room all over again. The full exposure brings heat to your face and you breathe through the embarrassment that arouses you even more.

“Hey, Donghyuck?”

“Yes?”

“Is your cat still alive?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He licks one long stripe over your entrance, and you feel the goosebumps spreading all over your arms and legs. Nimble fingers spread your folds apart, and you hold your breath as he lets his cool spit drip from his lips and land onto your lower ones, then starts sucking over your clit. His tongue is wet and his breath is hot, the combination driving you insane. You grip the comforter, digging into it with your nails to keep yourself grounded.

“Oh my god, yes, right there”

The praise motivates him to keep trying hard, not that it will take a lot of effort to make you come undone. Donghyuck’s unprecedented touches and the newfound sexual tension they have ignited had already worked you up, his skill in oral accelerating the build up to your climax even more. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better than this he starts a series of kitten licks right over your clit, each one sending a wave of pleasure stronger than the one before.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”

You’re grinding on his face, trying to find the right pace when you finally come undone, thighs shaking and desperately trying to push his hands away to cover up your sensitivity again. His hold is steady and he continues to lick you keenly, the lewd sound of him slurping your wetness filling the room. Your eyes open wide and you can only stare at his white ceiling during your overstimulation, the cracks and crumbling plaster caused from humidity looking like constellations in your orgasm-drunk mind. The second climax hits you suddenly but forcefully, unable to control the volume of your voice, not that you can hear yourself clearly in your daze. It’s an array of moans and screams and tiny whimpers of Donghyuck’s name, his beautiful symphony coming to life.

His appetite for you is finally satiated, and he decides to take mercy on you and remove his lips from your pulsating heat. You look so beautiful right now, he thinks, skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that is reflected on the wetness dripping from your pussy. He hovers over you again, pulling you into another kiss and you lazily reciprocate. His member is painfully hard, sliding over your slickness. You squirm and yelp everytime the fabric of his underwear grazes against your clit, your nerve endings screaming in sensitivity.

“I don’t have a condom on me”, you whisper against his lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue engaging you in the kiss again.

“I’m too tired to fuck you like you deserve anyways”

It would be criminal from you to leave him untouched like that. He looks so hot over you, messy hair and chin glistening in your juices. You absentmindedly place your nails on his collarbones, then scratch your way down over his navel. Donghyuck hisses at the numb stinging of pain, hips buckling against your pussy in the pursuit of some sort of friction. 

You move your hand even lower, slipping your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. You move past the bristles you find and grasp his member, that is not too long but an impressive girth. You manage to free it from his underwear, and you can’t really tell in the dim lighting but you bet it must have turned a purple-ish red colour. It’s leaking.

“But we don’t have a condom”

You take one of his hands in yours, giving it a kiss to calm him down, then place it over your left boob. He toys with the mound of your chest, squeezing the softness. You had other plans for him.

Connecting your knees together, you let the softness of your thighs connect, with only maybe a slither of space between them. Your hands are still on Donghyuck’s cock and you reach to hold his balls, massaging them slightly and pulling him towards you.

He takes your cue and leans forward, sliding himself between your thighs. The moan he lets out is guttural and elongated, laced with the beautiful metallic tone of his voice. He lets go of your breasts and wraps his arms around your knees, putting your calves on each of his shoulders and continues to rut his hips against you. 

“Fuck. This feels so good”

You look up to see Donghyuck’s face, contorted in a frown that can only be described as desperate, his lips puffy and red from all the licking and kissing and sucking. 

He looks painfully sexy, and you momentarily imagine all the things you would do to him if the serotonin of your double orgasm and the alcohol in your belly weren’t weighing you down. You’d gladly stay up all night for him, tugging on his long hair as you’d let him bend you in any position he wanted. You bet that thickness would feel amazing stretching you out and you moan at the thought, your thighs flexing involuntarily and making him moan even more. 

Soon he has picked up his pace, the tip of his cock reappearing between your thighs more frequently and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

“Fuck fuck, I’m coming”

He suddenly pushes forward, almost collapsing on top of you as a string of satisfactory groans leave his lips. His hips still with a stagger and you entrancingly watch the ropes of white dripping from his cock and landing on your blouse. It was a mess, but you can worry about it in the morning.

Donghyuck fucks your thighs slowly for a little longer, elongating his pleasure for as long as he can and soothing the crescent moons his nails formed on your skin with his fingertips. He reaches one hand to his bedroom floor where he finds a -what you hope is- clean t-shirt, and pats his cum off your blouse as best as he could.

It has gotten late and you’re both exhausted, Donghyuck’s comfortable weight on top of you lulling you to sleep. He’s hugging your hips now, head resting on your stomach and occasionally kissing your hip bones tenderly. You’re not sure when you slip out of consciousness but you do hear Donghyuck mumble something against your skin, something the kiss of Morpheus doesn’t allow you to make out.

You wake up to a white ceiling. Not just any white ceiling- a cracked, full of moisture pockets ceiling and you wonder when you let the humidity mess up your apartment this much. The culprit of your awakening, the morning sun rays that shine right on your eyes; way too bright than what you’re used to, force your eyelids to open, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the abundant light. This isn’t your apartment.

The sight of a man that greets your barely recovered rentinas shocks you, and you rub your eyes just in case you’re stuck in a lucid dream or something. You see the mess of ash blonde hair and the pile of work clothes discarded on the floor and your mind soon is flooded with last night’s events, buzzed out in your foggy memory. You sense another buzz as well, a physical one this time and you wiggle in place when you feel something hard and metallic digging in your butt. You prod a little with your fingers, trying not to wake up Donghyuck too abruptly and you realise that yes, you’ve been sitting on a phone all night.

Shouldn’t it be a Tuesday today? It’s very bright for it to be that early but surely Donghyuck must have set an alarm for the both of you last night. You yawn involuntarily, deciding to play with your phone until he wakes up as well when the bright white display pulls all the blood from your face.

8:40. You have to be at work in 20 minutes.

“Donghyuck! Hyuck!”

You didn’t care to make your touches light. They were shoves, really, pushing at his shoulders frantically to get him off of you and pull him out of his slumber. He wakes up with a gasp, trying desperately to keep his balance and failing, to then fall unceremoniously on the floor.

“What the hell?”, he groans out with a hoarse, groggy version of his voice, “My head is pounding”

“It will hurt even more once I’m done with you! You didn’t set an alarm last night? Today’s a work day!’

With his eyes bulging, he launches himself forward, grabbing the phone from your hands. 

“Shit, shit, shit”. He’s fully awake now, hands rubbing his face to come up with the next logical steps to take, in order to have you both at work on time and looking presentable. “I have a mouthwash and hairbrush in my bathroom, I’ll get ready here”

“And what the fuck am I supposed to wear?”

“Yesterday’s clothes? Are you really that concerned about recycling an outfit right now?”

You roll your eyes, pushing your blouse down and dragging his comforter off your body. 

“Did you forget about this?”

You straighten out the fabric for him to see, and the big, grossly dried out cum stains aren’t hard to notice. His face looks worried, but not necessarily apologetic, and you can almost see the scenes from the sex you shared last night play through his eyes like a porn film. 

“Your skirt is fine, right? I’ll find a shirt that fits you”

You’re spitting out the fluorescent blue liquid when he timorously walks in the bathroom to leave the piece of clothing he promised. It smells heavily of those moth-repellent sachets and looks slightly wrinkled, like something he pulled out from the depths of his closet but you don’t really have the privilege of playing Suzy Menkes right now. You pull and tuck the fabric in creative ways, in order to style the garment into something you might walk into work wearing one day, yet it’s painfully obvious to you how misfitted it is; too big around the shoulders as one would expect from a man’s shirt.

You exit the bathroom after giving up, pressed by the limited time and the sound of Donghyuck’s uneasy steps through the door. You let him freshen up as well and use the time to collect your things that are scattered all over his place - he was kind enough to bring you your bra that was discarded in his living room floor along with his shirt - and soon you were rushing out of his house and into separate cabs so as not to raise suspicion.

The rest of the day was normal, well- according to this new definition of normalcy for you. Where everything and everyone seems to follow this movie script of what a typical company must look like, while you worry that someone will probe uninvitedly into your thoughts. God knows what they would fish out. A broken record player of Donghyuck’s moans when he cums, the burn of his thick sex rubbing against your thighs, the paths of his neck veins you memorized by heart. 

You shake your head to clear it from the intrusive thoughts, and click the refresh button of your emails. The sound of keys being tapped and printers being put to use lands you back to reality, and you calmly click on the new incoming message from the Sales Department.

It was Johnny.

You’d think that after having his dick down your throat for about half a minute, getting butterflies in your stomach from the mere sight of his email address would stop being a recurring event for you. But alas, here they were, tapping their little wings in a flutter that turns into a hurricane of anxiety, and you sarcastically thank the universe for having to deal with Johnny while looking like an 80’s librarian.

You walk up the stairs like your ankle’s dragging a ball and a chain, the piece of paper in your hands getting slightly ripped from the abuse of your nervous fingers. It was a stupid document, barely half filled with any valuable information and you think it can’t be worth the calories you burned with that trip. It certainly wasn’t worth entering hell, aka mr. Suh’s office, and just the thought of him waiting for you in his fitted suit and gelled back hair is making you light headed. If Johnny was Hades then Donghyuck definitely was Cerberus, guarding his boss with his three heads and his big dick.

You leave a breath out when you realise he isn’t there, making your way onto Johnny’s office with lighter feet. He smiles brightly when he sees you, handsome as ever, and you carefully leave the document on his messy desk.

“Well, isn’t it my favourite intern”

You laugh at his sing-song tone, enjoying how warm he was being today.

“You used to avoid me like the plague and now I’m your favourite?”

“You always were my favourite”, he winks, and pushes back his hair like he knows the effect it has on you, “If someone is avoiding anyone like the plague that’s Donghyuck. I would have sent him to you but I can’t find him anywhere.”

You gulp dryly at his words, an invisible awl pinching your chest. You could feel Donghyuck slipping away from every place that you might share, in a very subtle way, but still noticeable from you. He left the kitchen hastily when you walked in to make your coffee, excused himself out of the lunch break through which you always kept him company, and now he was gone as well. Was last night such a big mistake in his point of view?

“I’m kidding, I just wanted to see you.”

He motions you to come closer and you timidly oblige, serenaded by the sound of his voice but not missing the hunger his eyes hold. He’s still seated in his big leather office chair, thighs spread out in a way that turned you on embarrassingly much, and you fit yourself in the space between his long legs. 

“He is very jumpy though, Donghyuck. Do you know what happened to him?”

Your whole body tenses up, muscles hardening defensively. “Why would I know?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you guys are so close.”

Close. Close as in having his knee between your thighs, close as in being pushed up against his chest and the elevator mirror. Close as in knowing how his tongue feels massaging your clit. 

“Have I seen you in that before?”

You’re confused with the sudden question and when you search for the context you realise he’s talking about your- Donghyuck’s shirt. Did he smell the sex on you? The overwhelming scent of pheromones and Donghyuck’s cologne that your nose just couldn’t ignore?

“I don’t think so”, you try to answer as nonchalantly as possible, “it’s new.”

“No”, Johnny insists, and pinches the fabric with his fingers. He’s very knowledgeable about fashion, always complimenting you on your outfit choices and you know he wouldn’t let this one go so easily. “I’m sure I’ve seen this before.”

You follow his line of sight towards the ivory fabric too, as if you expected there to be written “YOUR ASSISTANT GAVE ME THE BEST HEAD OF MY LIFE LAST NIGHT”, in a bright red marker. It was a prison, in the form of 99% cotton and 1% pure anxiety, and you know you had to distract Johnny out of this subject one way or the other.

“You like it?”, you ask seductively, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“I’d like you better without it.”

With just one strong, yet calculated pull he has you sat over the length of his thigh. Your hands land on his chest for stability, right over his pecks that fill your palms easily. There’s nothing you want more than to suck on those perfectly sculpted lips of his, but you’re not too faithful on Donghyuck’s mouthwash so you settle for the earlobe that isn’t pierced instead.

He loves the feeling, the activation of his erogenous area and the suction of your lips that resembles one of your favourite activities together.

“I like this shirt”, he starts, unbuttoning your chest into plain view, “and I love this skirt”

He runs his big hands over the plumpless of your ass, squeezing it then retracting his fingers back on your thighs. They’re cold against your burning skin and the contrast causes goosebumps to erupt in the shape of his handprint.

“You love all my skirts Johnny”

“I do. Because I can do this”

His fingers roll the hem of your skirt up your thigh, the only thing separating your heat with the smooth fabric of his slacks being your skimpy underwear. You’re pretty sure the wetness must be transferring to it already, your thoughts of Donghyuck and all the things he could do with you having you desperate for a release. Johnny pets your clit over your panties then, just a light graze of his finger that elicits a moan from you.

Your hips move on their own, slowly humping his thigh that flexes from under you. You grab his tie to help your movement when your pace picks up, enjoying his body heat that coated you. 

“Someone might see us.”

His desk chair was large, sure, but so was Johnny, and even though his back was facing the door of his office, no one could mistake the sight of you riding him as anything else. 

“I told you, Donghyuck keeps disappearing. And it seems like it won’t take you too long to cum with the way you moan like that, right babe?”

“Johnny…”

You were a whiny mess at this point, humping his leg to reach your high. He was nice enough to help you, his hands guiding you as you mess up all over him, lips stuck on the patch of skin right under your ear.

“You know, I kind of miss you calling me Mr. Suh.” he whispers as he’s sucking on your neck, and you shiver at the tone of his voice, “What do I have to do next time you come over to have you call me like that?”

You can’t contain your whimpers anymore, the stinging tears of arousal threatening to roll down your face, so you close your eyes to keep the moisture in. Everything is just too much, the pleasure of your clit rubbing on him, his nails that dig in the flesh of your hips, the heavy suggestions in his words; your orgasm was hanging by a thread and it was a matter of seconds for it to snap. And it did snap, with a bite on your neck, and along with it your eyes snapped open as well.

Donghyuck was staring right back at you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure, blurry vision making it hard to focus on him. You were falling apart over Johnny’s body, legs shaking and insides melting with his praise. Donghyuck took the sight in from the opened door, eyes studying your face of pleasure and bare chest decorated with Johnny’s kisses peeking from his own shirt. You’d be lying had you dismissed the fact that his presence intensified your orgasm times a hundred. The exposure of your act, the naughtiness of getting caught and by him of all people. You watched as he retreated outside from the office with silent steps, to give you privacy or recover from the embarrassment or both.

And Donghyuck would be lying too, had he said he didn’t like the sight. The mere memory of your face all fucked out flushed his own in crimson red. He remembered it all clearly, from your plush lips to Johnny’s mess of a hair, to the tremble of your body. It refused to leave his mind, the scene of you getting satisfaction from another man, but not because he wanted to erase it. He thought he fit right in, right in that scene between you and his boss.  

You texted him later that day, apologizing for what he had to witness and promising him you would return the shirt as soon as you washed it. He politely allowed you to keep it, not at all acknowledging the incident from earlier, nor the night you spent together. You didn’t have the guts to ask, for you didn’t know that Donghyuck didn’t regard last night as a mistake, like you thought. He was tired of boiling in the guilt of his feelings, selfishly admitting to himself that he did not regret a single thing. He was into you, he meant every word that came out of his mouth, so why was he avoiding you all day yesterday? He was still the fucking coward.

The next day came rolling along, and with it came a long list of things you wanted to avoid. The first one was arguably dealing with your best friend, the lengthy paperwork you had to fill out being a close second.  

Your mind was occupied with a plethora of thoughts, with Johnny holding the main spot. You’d seen him in your sleep last night, starring in the extremely detailed wet dream your brain fabricated for you, hot breaths and deep thrusts forcing you into the disappointing consciousness of today’s morning.

And the pictures he had sent you right after you decided to get up weren’t helping either. His tall, half naked build occupied most of the shot, skin glistening in the after-shower steam. His toothbrush was hanging from his foamy mouth, in an attempt to make the picture look nonchalant, yet you knew his motives. You let your eyes drink up the sight of his defined abdomen, then moved downwards along the dark happy trail that peeked from the towel, loosely hanging from his waist. Hip bones teasing you and all. Just drop the fucking towel Johnny.

Needless to say, you were a mess when you arrived at the office. The cats in heat outside of your window, the phallic shaped baguette your baker generously treated you with this morning; everything seemed to remind you of the heat between your legs that you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore. You tried rubbing your thighs, drowning in the paperwork, even locking your phone in one of your drawers so as not to be tempted to look at Johnny’s thirst trap again. But he had won.

You grab a bunch of documents that seemed important enough, shove them in your favourite binder, and make your way to Johnny’s office upstairs. 

You knew you had to deal with Donghyuck. It was the unavoidable repercussion of messing up your life like that, getting men that were too good looking for this boring ass company tangled up in what seemed to be a simple internship. Taking a deep breath, then two more for good measure, you start to strut confidently in a straight line that led to Johnny’s office door.

“He’s on call, come back later.”

Your head instinctively turns to the source of the sound, to find Donghyuck staring at the display of his laptop that seemed to be much more interesting than you. The matter-of-fact way he formed his sentences was not unlike him, yet something in you begged for a little bit of attention. Blame it on how horny you’ve been all morning, or the fact that now that you’ve seen him naked, the strict tone affects you much more than it should.

Bothered by your thoughts and thinking about having to sit back at your office for the rest of the work day, you let the binder slip from your hands and drop on the wooden floor. You lean down to collect the scattered pieces of paper, your heels making it hard for you to keep your balance easily, and soon enough you sense a movement from behind you.

“No panties huh?”

It was supposed to be a surprise. Payback for the dirty thoughts Johnny planted in your head this morning. You’d walk in all innocently, sit right across his desk and give him a little Basic Instinct Sharon Stone moment. Then leave him high and dry again, while mentally keeping a note to clear out all your plans for the weekend. But see, he couldn’t give you what you wanted after all, and your resolve started to break. Whatever it was you wanted, you wanted it now.

You get up, unfolding your body slowly and refusing to look at Donghyuck, much like he did when you walked inside. The smirk playing on your lips couldn’t be concealed through your voice.

“Like what you see?”

You gasp as he presses up against you, the only contact you have with one another being his hard-on that nudges your ass. Following your body’s orders, you push back against him too, and you can tell the breath he lets out is ragged and full of tension.

He reaches for your binder with an arm around you, flipping through the pages as he sucks his teeth in disapproval.

“These are last week’s reports. Are you really here for these or are you looking for another quickie with Johnny?” A moan escapes you then, and the little thrust that Donghyuck allows himself drives you both crazy. “Thought so. How insatiable are you? I made you cum two nights ago, Johnny helped you out yesterday. If you really are that desperate you could’ve just come to me for help, doll”

His soft palm rests on the front of your thigh, slowly sliding his way under your skirt. You squirm in his hold in anticipation, and you have to bite your tongue to hold in the noises that threaten to leave you. 

“Donghyuck, Johnny is sitting right through that door. He could come out any minute now and see us”

“And?”

“Your boss is sitting right through that door. You could get fired”

“I could die after this”

His thumb ficks your clit swiftly, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to slip his other one inside your gaping mouth.

“But-“

“Shh. Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby”

You’re melting in his hold at this point, your back still resting against his chest, lips sucking his digit. The scent of his cologne that you’ve grown so familiar with overwhelms you, painting all your surroundings in a red tint of lust.

“Spread your legs for me”. You oblige with his orders immediately, your arousal not allowing you to keep him waiting. “Wider”.

You take a quick look behind your shoulder to check that the door is still, indeed, closed, only to be met face to face with Donghyuck. His breath is hot against your face, eyes locked on his thumb toying with your lower lip and you completely forget what you initially turned around for. The kiss was natural, your lips melding easily with his ones. The need for him washes over you like a heatwave and you lift your skirt to urge him to continue before you go insane. 

He gets the hint and moves his hand lower, middle finger tracing your opening ever so slightly. It makes you shiver and you realise how quiet the room has fallen, the only source of sound coming muffled through the closed door to Johnny’s office. It excites you and it must show through the wetness between your lower lips, and Donghyuck patiently collects it all. He transfers the moisture over the bud of your clit, his finger smoothly massaging the sensitive skin. It feels divine and there’s no way you’d ask him to stop yet you know there’s something else Donghyuck is after, the sweet tightness that he didn’t get to experience that night at his apartment.

It was a bit much to fuck you out there like that, even for his exhibitionistic tendencies, but nothing could stop him from feeling the next best thing. 

His first finger enters you unhurriedly, careful of your reactions. You moan out his name and he moans at how tight you are, soft pussy practically sucking his finger in. He soon enters his ring finger as well, slowly moving them inside you until you feel every stretch and curl. Your wetness starts to drip at this point, coating his fingers with your juices.

“Such a dirty girl, making all this mess at my office”

The leisure pace ruins you, your eyes shut close in search of patience. You feel his other palm move from under your skirt as well, resting flat against your lower abdomen. He wants to feel himself inside you.

“Donghyuck, please. More”

A chuckle is heard from your left ear, and you can vividly imagine how his face must look like now. The cocky smirk, the tongue poking the inside of his cheek. The next pump has you muffling your whimpers with the back of your fist, his fingers curling just right and fucking straight into your g-spot. 

“More? Look at you. Pretty slut.” 

He’s full on finger fucking you now, and swallowing your moans is gradually becoming more and more difficult. The world crumbles from under your feet and you let yourself get carried away in the intense pleasure, the fast pumping making your legs shake.

“You’re gonna cum?”, he whispers again, and you can only respond with a nod, “That’s my fucking girl”

The orgasm’s intense, shaking you as you bite your hand and hold onto Donghyuck for extra support. He continues to move his fingers afterwards, drawing out your euphoria for as long as he can, then finally leaves you empty once your moans have died down. You immediately cover yourself up again once you sober up from your high, suddenly embarrassed by Donghyuck’s intense stare. He’s moving his eyes through all the features of your face, only for them to fall frozen on your lips, and lifts his hand up to rest his two fingers over them. You get his initiative and put them in your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue.

“Unless you want us both to get fired I think you should go back to your office. I don’t think I can contain myself around you”

You release his digits with a pop, your eyes full of seduction.  

“What would you do to me?”

Donghyuck growls at your question, turning you around so that you’re fully face to face and chest to chest. 

“You’d look so pretty on your knees, mouth full of cock”. He grabs a handful of your ass, bringing you flush against him and proceeds to grind his painfully hard dick between your thighs. Your noses touch and you feel dizzy at the proximity; the words he mutters against your cum coated lips. “I’d peel those clothes off of you, find the nearest mirror. Stretch you out against the glass so that you see how good you take it.”

You shiver as a response, then force yourself to put some distance between you before you do something stupid. He kindly helps you collect your things in silence, those useless documents that were laying scattered on the floor, and in a moment of weakness you let him pin you against the wall right before you go.There was something so addictive about him and your chemistry, and your lips burn at the memory of his kisses. You’re not sure how much longer you can contain that hunger anymore.

The end of a shift and the beginning of another overtime. It felt like deja vu at this point, after all the countless extra hours you’ve put into the internship, seeing people grab their briefcases and their car keys as they empty the space around you. You take a moment to appreciate the view of the setting sun from the small window of your office, inhaling deeply as you wrap the hair that’s been bothering you in a ponytail. Your neck hurts and the tension of your body is translating into a dull pain, so you stretch it a little, bobbing your head from side to side.

You jump a little in your seat when you feel a set of hands on your shoulder blades. They massage the sore spots, treating the muscle knots and helping your blood flow freely. It was obvious Donghyuck didn’t have enough of you earlier, and you pout at having to turn down another visit to his apartment because of your overtime duties. 

You were ready to scold him off, tell him you’re busy and that you promise to make it up for him another time, when you feel his soft lips kissing the most sensitive spot on the slope of your neck. You let out a long sigh, subconsciously exposing your neck more for him, and a high pitched whine rumbles in your chest. It’s released as a moan of Donghyuck’s name.

“Donghyuck?!”

You freeze in the uncomfortable arch, your ears confused by the deepness of the voice belonging to the man behind you. Not even the confusion laced in it can cover up the lack of airiness and clarity you’re used to when it comes to Donghyuck’s tone. It’s Johnny.

“I… We-“

You’re left speechless, clueless as to what to say next. You know you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s not like you and Johnny are exclusive. Yet his shocked face at the sound of his assistant’s name coming so lewdly off your lips has your brain scrambling to find some sort of explanation. Thankfully, he’d interrupt your panic in a second.

“The big boss wants you upstairs. I offered to come get you.”

He doesn’t sound angry or upset, nor disappointed. It’s a fresh air of relief before you realize that this is not what you should worry about right now. What the hell does the CEO of the company want to talk to you about? Are you getting the boot? It must be it, but why? Your numbers have been great, you’re always on time - except that one morning, but technically it was Donghyuck’s fault - and you’ve been praised by your supervisor numerous times during your internship.

Unless- What if there’s cameras in the office? 

You start to panic at the thought of an involuntary sex tape become the cause of your dismissal, so caught up in your thoughts that you’re completely unaware you’ve spent the entire trip up the stairs with Johnny in silence. When you enter the CEO’s office, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears, you notice that all of the department’s supervisors are present in the impromptu meeting as well. You sit next to Johnny, in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you see the head of your department send you an encouraging smile.

“Shall we start?”

A briefing of your work in the company ensued, numbers and graphs that wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than the people in the room. Thirty minutes have passed and no surveillance tape has been whipped out, turning you more confused than ever. The numbers were good, the words from your supervisor are complimentary, so why would they fire you? 

“That is all for the briefing. After seeing your progress and the contribution you’ve made to the company, we’ve decided to offer you a permanent position, if you’d be interested of course”

Oh my god. You can’t believe this day finally came. Your face was glowing, and you tried to convince yourself to stay calm while you talked about your new position and the raise in salary that came with it. With shaky hands you sign the documents, and your boss congratulates you once again, dismissing you off your overtime. 

You waited for everyone to leave the hallway before jumping in Johnny’s arms. He caught you easily, strong build supporting you and lifting your feet off the ground before landing you safely again.

“Good job intern, I’m so proud of you”

“Hey, I’m not an intern anymore!”, you complain by bumping his chest with your fist and he pats your head lovingly in return.

“Why did you have to be in the room as well? Did you know about my promotion?”

“No, actually, they just told me an hour ago. It was hard to keep myself from telling you everything right away.”

The excitement coursed through you, and a sudden urge to kiss him until your lips were numb overwhelmed you. You were ready to turn your thoughts into reality, when you saw Donghyuck from the corner of your eye, instinctively smiling at your obvious happiness.

“What’s the occasion?”

“I got promoted!”

Donghyuck gasped, a huge smile spreading across his face. Your excitement’s contentious so he tackles you without a second thought, his embrace so tight that you can barely breathe. You can see that he’s trying his best to contain a kiss, his glance moving back and forth between you and Johnny. He still kept a possessive hand around your waist once he let you down however, a gesture that could seem innocent yet you knew better.

Johnny smirks at the sight of you two, confidence dripping off his body and making you shiver. You get dizzy at the thought of Donghyuck not knowing that Johnny knows about you, yet Donghyuck knowing about Johnny but not giving a fuck.

“So how do we celebrate?”, the older man asks, with a playful tone that might as well be your active imagination.

“Wanna go for a drink?”, Donghyuck suggests, boldly keeping his eyes at you only while he does so.

You pout in thought, humming pensively when an idea pops into your head. 

“How about you come over my place for one?”

You should have thought this through more thoroughly, is all you can think about as you’re trapped between Johnny and Hyuck on your couch. Well, not really- there is a sizable distance between you three, yet the atmosphere in the room is so dense it’s nearly palpable. Three glasses, half-full of the alcohol of their choice are sitting on the coffee table in front of you, and you awkwardly stare at the sweat that falls from your glass and forms rings on the wooden surface. 

Your body has loosened up from your drink yet your heart can’t stop racing, not when Donghyuck is looking at you like that. He looks like a man starved for days while you’re the meal presented deliciously in his arm’s reach, and he can’t wait to have you alone and curve his growing appetite. And you ignore Johnny’s cheeky smiles and flirtatious winks as well, carrying on a conversation that doesn’t belong in the inescapable tone of the room but flows easily, until it ends and you’re met with heavy silence and the ticking analog clock on your wall again.

You ask them if they would like some water, getting up before you receive an answer, and you yelp a little when you feel a strong arm halting your trip to the kitchen before it even started. You lose your balance and wobble a little in your spot before unceremoniously landing on Johnny’s lap.

He doesn’t help you up, but loops and arm around your waist instead, holding you in place. In circumstances other than the ones that have already made their mark on your sexual history, staying in this position with his assistant still in the room would be highly inappropriate.

“You’re all we need”, he reassures you with a voice made of silk, then repositions you with a jerk of his knee, your heat grinding right against his half hard member.

“When were you gonna tell me?”

You open and close your mouth sequentially like a fish out of water, choking out a reply after the insistent tick-tock that resonates through the room and gives a tempo to your anxiety.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know what I’m talking about. A little birdy told me I’m not the only one enjoying this perfect little body. Is that right Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck’s eyes bulged out of his skull, almost choking in the sip of the drink he was enjoying when the unexpected question hit him. Sizzling heat floods your face as he stares at you sternly, and you shake your head defensively.

“I didn’t tell him-“

“Well no, not exactly”, Johnny interrupts and places his big hands over your thighs, “I was just kissing her neck, trying to get her to relax, and lo and behold, she starts moaning your name like its a fucking reflex. You’ve really gotten into her head, apparently”

Donghyuck swells up in pride, that much is evident, yet he’s way too distracted to say anything in response, too busy staring at Johnny’s fingers spreading your thighs apart to expose your damp underwear. Johnny’s lips are planted on your neck, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and you wince when you feel the sharp sting of a slap on your inner thigh.

“You aren’t being a good hostess, baby. Open up your legs more, let Hyuck see your pretty pussy. You remember what word to say when you want me to stop, right?” You whimper the designated safe word while opening your thighs further, digging the heels of your feet in the couch’s pillows. “Good girl”

He dips a hand through the band of your underwear, busying his fingers under the fabric. You moan as they slide through the wetness and he smiles a cocky smile when he sees Donghyuck palming himself through his slacks. He removes the skimpy thong with the help of your hips moving to assist him, to then push the fabric inside your mouth with little to no resistance from you.

“Isn’t this pussy divine? I swear when I bottomed out inside of her the first time I thought I lost my damn mind”

He toys with your opening, only dipping half a finger in to challenge Donghyuck to pay attention.

“We haven’t actually…”

“She only let you play with her?”, Johnny teases him, then pushes his point and middle finger all the way inside you, making his assistant’s imagination run wild at what your pussy must feel like sucking him in. “You’re missing out man”

“I’ve made her cum probably twice as many times as you’ve ever have”

You chuckle at his smart remark and Johnny glares at you, softly slapping your pussy to keep you at bay.

“No one addressed you. You’ll get to make all the noise you want in a sec, baby”

You squirm in place, letting out a muffled apology through your gag and Donghyuck looks seriously affected by the sight.

“Isn’t she obedient?”, Johnny asks while grazing your g-spot, and you moan from both the praise and the stimulation.

Hyuck unbuttons his pants at the lewd sound, pulling his dick from the slit of his boxers and you admire his impressive girth. He lets his body decline comfortably on the pillows behind him, spreading his own legs at shoulder-length. The mouth-watering sight of him jerking himself slowly with the aid of his precum clouds your vision; you’re just as needy for him as he is for you.

“She’s a little brat”

“I guess I know how to make her listen”. Johnny lifts your dress over your hips, then helps you off of it through the hem. With a rehearsed flick of his fingers he discards your bra as well, leaving you completely naked for Donghyuck’s eyes to feast on. His hands immediately grope your breasts, playing with the mounds and putting on a show. “I could undress you over and over and over again”

You feel his fingers retract from inside your pussy to form a ‘V’ over your lower lips, making your hole even more visible along with the wetness that’s dripping out of it.

“Will you let Donghyuck use your pussy baby? I feel a little greedy using it all on my own”

You groan in the anticipation and let your head fall back on Johnny’s shoulder, nodding pathetically and mumbling through your thong.

“Oh god, yes, yes, yes”

Donghyuck has heard enough, and with Johnny urging him on he’s standing half naked in front of you in seconds. His boxers are discarded next to his trousers on the floor, tie hanging loosely from the collar. He still has a hand wrapped around his angry sex, red tip and veiny details making you swoon.

“Go on”, Johnny encourages him, “she’s more than wet enough”

Donghyuck rests his left knee on the cushion of the couch, right between your foot and Johnny’s thigh. A little foiled square is getting ripped by his nimble fingers and you bewitchedly watch him wrap up his cock. He slaps it over your entrance a couple times, coming in contact with the other man’s fingers that are still keeping you fully exposed, then finally thrusts himself inside you. A conglomerate of what seems like three different curses leave his lips, eyebrows furrowed in a pleasureful expression.

“Fuck”

“Tight, isn’t she?”

“So fucking tight baby, damn”

Johnny may have a cock so lengthy that most men are envious of, yet Donghyuck’s girth is really something else. It stretches you out more than you've had in months, dull pain getting numb with every release of serotonin from your brain. You almost cry when he removes the entire thing out of you.

“I have to feel that again”

And indeed he does, submerging himself in the tightness of your walls only his fingers had the privilege of experiencing thus far. You feel amazing wrapped up around him, pussy hot and burning in desire as he dips himself further inside you, pushing you up against Johnny’s chest. You hiss in the sting and whimper softly, prompting the man behind you to ungag you finally.

“What is it baby? Hyuckie’s dick is too big for your tight little hole?”

You nod affirmatively while keeping eye contact with the man mentioned, big glossy eyes awakening something dark inside him. He wants to ruin you.

“Maybe you don’t fuck her hard enough”

You can’t see Johnny from the way you’re seated but you know he must have a smile on his face, well aware of the confidence he possesses for his own abilities in the bedroom. His big hands leave your labia and make their way over to your calves, bending you in a way that is almost painful.

“How about you show me how it’s done, then?”

Donghyuck is always up for a challenge, so he wraps a hand loosely around your throat so as to gain leverage. He pulls his hips backwards, gaining momentum, then slaps them forcefully against your own. You moan loudly at the depth, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to as he’s nailing you against the couch. Johnny’s there to catch your sounds with his lips, eating them up eagerly as he slips his tongue inside you and continues to play with your nipples. 

“Is that hard enough for you?”

Continuing his brutal pace restlessly, Donghyuck tightens his grasp around your neck, enough to hamper your blood flow and drool around the other man’s mouth. You’re so out of it at this point, dirty sound after another leaving your lips and you gasp at Johnny’s fingers that are suddenly circling around your clit.

“I’m close, please”, you manage to whimper from between them, Hyuck’s pace only fastening in the sound of your plea. The tip of his cock, thick like the rest of him, grazes against your sensitive spot again and again, not missing a single thrust. He digs a thumb in the softness of your cheek, pulling you away from Johnny and connecting his forehead with yours. By the sounds of his grunts it won’t take long until he comes as well.

“Made just for me”, he whispers against your lips, and you gasp when you feel the heat overflowing in your sex area, vision blurry as you let go and scream in complete pleasure. Donghyuck basks in the confirmation of how good he’s made you feel, hips stuttering as he empties his cum in you and inside the condom. His thigh muscles may be contracting in tiredness yet he doesn’t halt his movements, milking your orgasm for all its worth. You’re basically putty in Johnny’s lap at this point, sex drunk and high from your release.  

“Not bad”, he admits, even though he had some credit to claim with the fast fingerwork he showed earlier. He holds your thighs again, closing them up to help you relax and you wince at the pain in your haunch, the result of staying in a flexibility-demanding position for so long.

You wait until your heartbeat slows down, turning around to face Johnny as Donghyuck ties up and discards the used condom. He sends you a warm smile, petting the messy hair out of your line of sight and you relax in the feeling of safety, batting your eyes up at him cutely.

“What about you?”, you practically meow, moaning softly as you feel his boner twitching from beneath his trousers.

“What about me? Didn’t you have enough?” 

He knows your appetite, knows there’s no way you’d be satisfied by one round only. And how could you, when he sits so deliciously from under you, his big body reeling you in. You know what he wants to hear.

“Please, Johnny”, you plead, playing with the thin tie still neatly keeping his shirt in place. “I need you”

“You need what?”, he growls against your lips, trying to coax as much desperation out of you as possible.

“I need your big cock inside me, please”

“Ass up”

You get up from your seat, complying with his commands and getting on your knees before your tired legs betray you and leave you a mess on the floor.  His hands cup your ass in admiration, giving it a little spank before he slides them over your dorsals. A careful push forces you to arch your back even more, and your cheeks burn at the eager position he has bent you in. You shiver when his cock enters you halfway.

“You’re still not used to me babe?”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so fucking big, Johnny”

“Then maybe I should stay still? Since you can’t take it?”

“No!”, you oppose, tears of frustration threatening to spill out of their ducts, “I can take it, just move!”

You howl as he bottoms out, his long length making you lose your mind. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything more than his fingers and you’ve missed the way he fits inside of you. You hear shuffling from behind you and soon he’s bending over you, wrapping his tie around your neck. With a pull you’re flush against his chest again, and the buttons of his shirt are already leaving little indentations on your skin. You wish it bruises.

“Do you remember what I wanted you to call me the other day?”, he whispers next to the shell of your ear, dark tone sending shivers down your spine.

“Mr. Suh”

“Exactly. Now will you let me fuck you the way I want?”

“Yes sir”

“What a good girl”

Johnny slams into you fully, every pull of his hips resulting in the restriction of your airflow. A game of wanting more of him and sacrificing your oxygen for it begins, and it doesn’t take long for you to turn completely into a submissive mess for him. He’s whispering filth in your ears, hips keeping their inhuman tempo until you’re all out of energy and fall nonvocal. Donghyuck gets hard again at the sight.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Johnny, who is more than willing to share your body for the pleasure he’s after- at least part of it. He waits until the younger man’s dick is fully solid in his grasp, standing tall and red right in front of you and he lets go of the constraint of your neck without notice.

You fall face first on Donghyuck’s thick thighs, his quick reflexes catching you from a harder impact. His member is twitching right next to your face, tip grazing against your left temple and he helps your head up by wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail that his fingers hold together. You wrap your lips around his tip obediently, twirling your tongue around his member until you reach his hairy base. He tastes a bit rubbery from the condom earlier but you choose to ignore it, focusing on hollowing your cheeks around him instead.

Every hard thrust of Johnny’s propels you forward onto Donghyuck’s cock, the bobbing motion natural yet you struggle to take them both inside you. Donghyuck enjoys the vibrations of the moans you make when the other man hits a deep spot in your pussy, Johnny groans when you clench around him as Donghyuck abuses your throat. It’s a give and take of intense pleasure and you know you can’t take much more, the men’s moans growing louder with every thrust. 

“Do you like Hyuck’s cock needy baby? Have you finally had enough?”

He punctuates each word with a slam, one harder than the other, and the rope inside your belly snaps with the arrival of your second orgasm. You try your hardest to stay in place, beg your thighs not to let you collapse as you let Johnny drive you into overstimuation.

“Yes, sir. I love it”

Johnny grunts at the sound of his title, so dirty coming muffled by another man’s dick that it’s enough to send him over the edge. You feel the hot cum filling up the condom inside you, and his spurts take so long that the little tweaks coax another orgasm from you.

Donghyuck drinks up the scene unveiling in front of him, a steady hand forcing your jaw open as he starts to jerk off quickly over your face.

“I want to see your tongue covered in my cum”

You lick your lips seductively in response, opening your mouth up to welcome his ropes of white liquid that leave his slit a second after. They fill your mouth little by little, painting the inside of it and you hold your tongue out to show him his creation, a couple of drops dripping from the corners before you swallow as much as you can. He collects whatever’s left on your jaw, pushing it in and letting you suckle on his thumb dumbly before letting go.

You collapse on the couch, exhausted after giving all that your body could handle after a work day, and you sit in silence as Johnny massages your feet and Donghyuck kisses your neck to calm you down. Your head hurts from the sex and the possibilities that this new combination can bring to your love life, belly tingling in excitement at the same time. You don’t know where this will lead, or when will be the next time you’ll indulge in the company of the both of them stuck on your body. All that you know is that this promotion, at least the celebration of it, tastes really, really sweet. 

thank you for reading ❤ feedback is much appreciated! If you liked Promotion you can check out Work for it to see where it all started! :) 

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