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choism · 1 year ago

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Jester's Game | b.tc

Captain Buggy x Pirate!afab!Reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff (If you squint)

Summary: Trying to overtake Captain Buggy's ship leaves you asking questions, and surprisingly, getting answers

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: top!buggy, afab!reader, unprotected sex (pls dont), cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, squirting, rough sex, gentle sex (yeah wild), inappropriate use of detached limbs, spit as lube (also a no no), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, princess)

A/N: WOOHOO ITS MY FIRST NON KPOP FIC!! I knew I would write for other stuff eventually but I definitely did not expect it to be a recent hyperfixation. Buggy just has me bricked up okay! Anyway I hope y'all enjoy, don't forget to let me know what you thought of the fic in the tags !

It’s a rather unfortunate series of events, really. Sure, you could’ve told your navigator to sail away from the ship with the giant clown crossbones flag. Yeah, it might’ve helped if you had told your crew that they were about to fight some of the toughest pirates in the East Blue. But where’s the fun in that? As their captain, it’s your job to seek the adventure, and well, this was an adventure all right.

It started with you telling your men to approach, cannons firing, your crew hopping their ship, the infamous ship commandeered by none other Buggy The Clown. Yes, the ship your measly crew has decided to board. Listen, it was strategic! Buggy had somehow gotten the map to the grand line back, and your ship just so happened to be within the vicinity of his, so why not seek the opportunity to take it? Well that was your first mistake.

Now, you find yourself here, hands bound behind your back and kneeling with your crew in front of Buggy’s stupid, dumb throne in his stupid, dumb circus tent cabin.

“You all truly are fools for thinking you could take on my band of freaks,” Buggy lazily sprawls over his throne, seemingly unimpressed by your, in his words, ‘lackluster crew’.

“It’s funny actually, how pathetic it was, I mean even Mohji got in a few punches! Ha! Truly a fine show.” The man you assume being the Mohji that Buggy had just poked fun at, slumps his shoulders sadly at his jab. “Now, time to get to the good stuff…” Buggy trails off, standing up and taking a few strides in your direction, his dirty boots stopping directly in front of you. He detaches his hand and uses it to lift your head, pointing your chin up to look him in the eye.

Looking up, you spit and it lands on his cheek, he simply swipes it off with his attached, gloved hand. “So what if you defeated us, it doesn’t make you any better of a pirate, and doesn’t get you any closer to the One Piece.” You tilt your head and smirk. He may have overcome your crew, but he will never overcome your overwhelming ego and pride. It matches his just as equally.

“Ah, that's where you’re wrong, princess,” His grin is just as wide as yours, and briefly you’re confused, what could he mean? “Given your set of thieving skills, probably some of the best in the East Blue, I’ve heard, you’re gonna join my band of freaks, and I’m not giving you a choice sweetheart,” Buggy removes his hand from your chin, and it floats to his arm, re-attaching itself.

“Boys, throw their crew overboard, we have no use for them.” He rolls his eyes and sits back on his throne, “Oh! And go show them to their new quarters, make them feel at home.” Buggy laughs a deep boisterous laugh, one that genuinely sends shivers down your spine.

The pirates lead you into, what is actually, quite a nice room in the lower deck of the cabin, lit by a few candles, and a cot in the corner. Surprisingly, they cut you out of your ropes, and shut the door without locking it. What’s their deal? Don’t they know you can escape at any time if you wanted? Sneak out and steal one of their emergency boats, and sail to the nearest Island? Granted, you aren’t sure where the nearest Island is, you’re a thief, not a navigator.

Instead of worrying about escaping, you roam the small room, admiring your surroundings. The whole ship is clown themed, front he flags to the cabin to everything, but this room is different. Not a single sign of jester-like decorations anywhere. In fact, it’s as if this cabin was decorated specifically for you. Before you can think more of it, the door opens suddenly.

Buggy enters, and closes the door behind him. When he enters you’re sitting on the cot, legs crossed and unamused.

“Not thinking about escaping? Not that you could anyway, we are miles away from the nearest island, and realistically it would take you days to get there on one of our measly boats.” He rolls his eyes, as if annoyed by how small and fragile the boats are, before sitting backwards on the chair at the short desk next to the cot.

“So what do you even need a thief for? Why am I here?” You blurt, already growing impatient from the lack of information being given to you.

“I need you for many reasons, being a thief is only one of them, sweetheart.” Buggy grins and removes his hat, setting it on the desk. “You already have connections at the grand line, and while I know you need my map to get there, I know that you know the people I need to talk to, to gain safe entry without slaughtering half the fucking pirates there.” He leans back and relaxes a bit, observing your facial features.

“And why do you think any of the people I know would want to help you? You’re just some lowly pirate.” You spit at him, angered by his casualness. In what world would you even willingly help him? Who does he think he is?

“Ha…Me? A lowly pirate? This coming from the literal captain of a crew is hilarious! Tell me another joke, please.” He grins knowingly, he knows how to get a rise out of you for sure. You look over his facial expression, smugness overtakes his face and it makes your stomach twist, not with disgust though for some odd reason, with another feeling you don’t quite recognize.

This whole situation has you feeling all kinds of anxious. How did you just happen to raid the ship of a pirate who just happened to need you for this specific thing, and why is his presence making you feel so…weird? Something isn’t right here, and it can’t be because of your connections to the grand line. No, he’s hiding something.

“What are you hiding, clown? There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

His face drops, and he gets suddenly very serious, “Listen here, princess,” Buggy gets up from the chair and gets close to you, leaning down, your noses almost touching. “You’re gonna get me to the grand line, I don’t care if I have to torture it out of you, got it? No more questions tonight.” He gets up and suddenly grins very brightly, as if nothing ever happened. “Night night!” Buggy walks out and slams the door, then you hear a locking sound.

Fuck, he locked you in your room. You should’ve expected this, honestly. The way he reacted to your question was so strange. You knew there was something fishy, but you didn’t think whatever it was could’ve prompted that kind of reaction out of him.

***

The next day you wake up to yelling outside of your cramped room. Yawning, you get up and put your ear to the door,

“I’m sorry Captain Buggy! I didn’t know that was their ship I swear I promise!”

You hear what sounds like a kick to the jaw and a yelp,

“Didn’t know? Didn’t know?! You couldn’t tell by the giant crossbones flag that very obviously bares their symbol? I’m tired of you, someone go throw him off the deck.”

You hear screams and pleads of “No please!” and “I didn’t know I’m sorry captain!” before hearing water splash, then silence, then- oh shit footsteps coming towards your room. You scramble back to your cot and lay down, pretending to sleep. You hear a couple of knocks before hearing a feint “What the fuck am I doing, I go where I want!” Before Buggy barges into the room after unlocking it.

“Get up, I know you heard everything.” He spits gruffly, sitting back in the chair again the same way as yesterday. You sit up abruptly. Last night you couldn’t shake this feeling, of what you felt when Buggy had gotten so serious, and it’s just gotten worse being in his presence. Your abdomen feels hot, your ears feel hot, everything feels hot. It’s like butterflies in your stomach if the butterflies were armed with knives.

“Yes, I did hear, what do you mean by my symbol? I thought bumping into you was a coincidence?” Buggy smiles faintly, and chuckles.

“Yes, it was, I wasn’t informed of what ship we attacked, just that my men captured you all, oh but when I saw you…I knew.” Buggy stands up and motions for you to do the same, getting so close to you, your chests almost touch. He brings his hand to your arm, caressing down the length before gripping your wrist harshly, causing you to wince. “Do you….” he trails off, “Do you really not remember me?” He brings his eyes from your arm to your face, making direct eye contact.

You struggle to find words, what does he mean, remember? Yeah, he gives you a strange feeling everytime you're near him, but you’ve never met this man in your entire life. You think. Honestly you can’t remember anything before the age of seventeen.

“I– no, no I don’t…”

His smile fades, and he lets go of you, “I thought you would remember once you saw me, we were on Gold Roger’s crew together years ago, but you went missing after a particularly tough battle.” He pauses, thinking carefully about what to say next, “You– We– We were close, and I was devastated, I thought you were dead.” He’s being surprisingly vulnerable right now, and it’s kind of scaring you.

“I don’t really remember anything before I turned seventeen, All I know is one day I woke up on an island, a group of pirates took me in, I left, and I’ve been on my own since. The only reason I am where I am today is because I wanted to find who I was, and I figured I could find that out at the grand line.” You feel overwhelmingly sad. Why are you sad? You don’t even know him.

There’s a long silence between the two of you, it’s uncomfortable, tight, and makes you want to leave, until he says, “Let me show you.” He says abruptly, and you think you see a blush across his face.

“Sorry, I mean, please,” Buggy steps into your space again, this time his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes, back to your lips. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find you, I’m sorry you had to go through that, I missed you so much y/n” That was the first time he’s said your name this entire time, but it’s not one you recognize.

“Is that my name?” Your lip quivers, he’s so close now, your lips are inches apart.

“Yes it is, y/n, sweetheart, princess, I’ll call you whatever you want, just let me show you.” The thick air has disappeared and is now replaced with tension. Something deeper, heavier, fills the room. But it’s not a bad thing.

“Let me show you who you were to me.”

You let his face drop to yours, and your lips finally connect.

The kiss is slow, languid. It’s like his lips were meant to connect with yours. Buggy wraps his arms around your waist. Pulling you in closer, and kissing you deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you let him kiss you as deep as he wants. The pace quickens and he slots his leg in between yours, rubbing against your pants and providing much needed friction.

You moan into his touch and he walks the both of you backwards until the back of your knees reach the bed. He lowers you onto it and hovers above you, kissing you again before departing. “Is this okay?” Buggy asks, brushes his hands underneath the bottom of your shirt, slowly lifting it.

“Only if you return the favor.” He chuckles and lowers his head to your neck, sucking and biting gently while riding up your shirt until your chest is exposed. You sit up briefly to take off your shirt and as promised, he does the same. He isn’t overly ripped like most pirates are, but he’s still well toned. His muscles flex as he shifts lower, kissing down your chest, down your stomach and stopping just above the navel.

“When I saw you were the one my men captured, it took my breath away,” He lifts your hips so he can remove your pants and undergarments, “I was scared, anxious, I didn’t know what to do, so I pretended I knew you for your skills, not for your past.” After removing everything, he pushes back, kissing your thighs before sitting up, taking his gloves off with his teeth and throwing them to the side. Man that was hot.

Buggy detaches one of his hands and lets it roam up your torso, reaches your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze. Before leading his fingers over your mouth, asking for entry. You grant it and his index and middle finger slip into your mouth, swirling your saliva around and coating them generously. “When you suspected I knew more, I didn’t know what to do. When you boarded I just knew you by name, not face, there was no way I could’ve expected this.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and moves it down to your center, rubbing through your folds gently and inserting two fingers, scissoring you open and prepping you for what's to come. Buggy uses his still detached hand to remove his own trousers, his cock springing free from its confines. He strokes it slowly, clearly getting off to his detached hand fingering you open.

“Buggy…” You moan, you can’t even reply or form a sentence, the pleasure too good.

“Shhh just relax sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.” He brings his hand away from your now dripping cunt, reattaching it and leaning down. You feel his breathe over your core, he kisses your clit before taking it in his mouth, lapping up your taste and fucking you onto his tongue. You can feel your orgasm approaching quickly as he flits between sucking on your clit and tonguing inside of you, but he pulls away.

“Fuck! Why’d you–”

You’re interrupted by his cock entering you and your legs being lifted by his hands so he can enter as deep as possible. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. His cock fits so nice and feels so good and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“Fuck you’re so tight and wet for me, so fucking good huh? Letting me fuck you like this.” His pupils are so blown out, he watches his own cock pull out and start to thrust into you, it just fuels your arousal further. Buggy starts out slow, just getting you used to his size before he picks up the pace, fucking into you even deeper and faster.

“Shit, gonna cum Buggy please.” He moves your legs to prop onto his shoulders and he grabs onto your waist, pushing down and holding you in place as he fucks into you roughly.

“Gonna cum for me? Go ahead sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.” He moves his hand over your abdomen and presses down, the pressure making you feel dizzy. You feel white hot, the band finally snapping as you come. “Fuck, gonna cum soon too, gonna fill you up so good.”

Buggy relentlessly fucks into your cunt, overstimulating you and causing a pressure to build that’s unfamiliar. “Wait Buggy I, fuck I feel weird it feels good.” Soon, with a loud cry you feel a wetness rush between your legs, causing you to let out a loud string of moans and curses.

“Squirting for me already? God you’re full of surprises. Shit, I’m coming.” A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his hot cum fill you up, as promised. It feels so good. He slows down and pulls out, his load leaking out of you and onto the sheets below. “So good for me.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing you gently. He cleans the both of you up quickly and gets dressed, ready to go back to his quarters for the night.

“Wait Buggy, before you go…” You trail off and he turns around, listening intently. “If you don’t mind, can you tell me more about my- about our, past? I need to know where I came from, what happened.” Buggy smiles gently, walking up and kissing you on the forehead.

“Of course princess, later”

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown smut #buggy the clown x reader #opla smut #opla x reader #op smut #op x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #buggy #buggy the clown

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911-ls-whats-your-emergency · 7 months ago

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Has anyone written this season from Tommy’s POV yet?? Because if so please tag me, but in the meantime I just had to outline the crazy sequence of events from his POV:

- Haven’t heard from the 118 in years and suddenly Howie is asking me to fly them into a hurricane

- But also we gotta wait for Hen but you’re gonna need to go get her so we can dramatically surprise her from inside the helicopter

- Can’t believe these losers were actually right and we just found an overturned cruise ship

- Start talking to Eddie in the aftermath and have so much in common, exchange numbers so we can hang out

- A day later Evan Buckley calls the station and asks if he can come by for a tour whenever I’ve got some free time and he seems cool too so why not

- My buddy in Vegas gets awesome tickets to the fight and convinces me to fly out and hey Eddie mentioned he’s into MMA right?

- Evan is super excited about everything but also doesn’t really seem like he’d actually want to switch stations so that’s odd - but hey flying is awesome and I can’t resist a little eye candy so I’ll offer to teach him

- Fight is awesome. Eddie is awesome. New friends are awesome and it’s rare that you have so much in common with someone so we are BFFs now

- Vibes at basketball were strange?? Apparently Evan doesn’t usually play but he shows up and gets really intense and I end up having to take Eddie to get his ankle patched up

- Painkiller!Eddie starts mumbling about how this is all his fault and he knows how Buck gets jealous and….oh now I feel bad

- Let me go to Evan’s place and clear the air - didn’t mean to cause all this drama I just wanted all the new friends

- I might be reading this wrong but Evan is flirting with me…? While also talking about Eddie way too much??

- Okay he is definitely flirting with me but also I am still not convinced he was jealous over me

- But also how can you not kiss a guy like that when he’s flirting with you and then rambling??

- Damn I really hope that was okay because I did not give him a lot of warning

- 😁😁 it was okay

- Gotta get out of here before I get distracted by kissing this man and miss my shift

- But can’t let Evan overthink it too much so make sure I secure a date before I go

- Oops almost forgot I came here to fix what I broke between him and Eddie - one last reminder and we’re good!

- Can’t wait for Saturday…

#buddie #bucktommy #911 abc #911 on fox #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #kinkley

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melodyanqel · 3 months ago

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Far Away | cj

summary: times have been rough for jongho due to being long-distance from his precious family. so, he receives a surprise.

pairing: idol!husband!father!jongho x non-idol!wife!mother!reader

genre/tags: fluff, idol au, established relationship, married couple, family reunion, aniteez cameo

wc: 1k+ words

a/n: i enjoyed writing this fluff and i hope you luvs enjoy reading it (>⩊<)

Coachella ATEEZ.

The title is unreal to the members, the fans, and everyone else in the world. It’s another mega achievement in the group’s career, making it a golden moment in K-pop history. After months, days, hours, and seconds of their lives, the day has come, ready to bring a show. Most importantly, two secret guests are surprising someone. He doesn’t know that his wife and little girl are traveling out of the country to see him.

The mother and daughter have made it to the airport.

“Are you ready to go meet appa, darling?” You asked your beloved angel. She has her small hand holding yours. Choi Juhee, also known as ATEEZ’s princess and ATINY’s baby. A high-spirited two-year-old with the sweetest soul in the world. Juhee can make any stern, cold person melt on the spot because her cuteness is too precious. She has a strong resemblance to her father and it’s a bit uncanny.

Jongho’s pretty boba eyes, round face, defined nose, and smile.

Even her uncles believe Juhee is a ”mini Jongho.”

“Appa? Where?” The baby asked her mother, looking around the area. You laughed softly, “Not here, but we are seeing him.” You tried to have Juhee comprehend that she’ll be with her father soon. Your daughter is still learning to speak and remembering people and places around her. She knows her uncles because she sees them every day.

While waiting for the plane, you and Juhee sit by the entrance. Your little girl is playing with her JJONGbear plush, while you read the messages from the members, excluding Jongho, on a private group chat.

Joongie: Are you boarding yet?

You: We haven’t yet

Wooyo: Jongho has been looking at pictures of you and Juhee throughout the trip

You: Aww. Do you all miss us as well?

Yuyu: Of course!

Sannie: You two make our days better!

Minki: It gets boring without you two

Hwa: Y/N, does Juhee know she is seeing her appa?

You: She does and tried looking for him at the airport lol

Yeo: How cute! I’m excited to carry her and hug you

Reading the adorable and heartwarming messages makes you less anxious because you miss your husband. Jongho’s music career has been evolving as the years go by and the fame did impact his life. He had less time with his family and more about making hits to amaze people. However, you knew what to expect when marrying a celebrity. It’s not something you could control because you adore his hard work and compassion. Despite the idol image, he is still your Jongho.

It was also Juhee’s first time on a plane. She stares through the window and watches the peach sky with wispy clouds glow on her face. “Omma, looks like ANITEEZ.” Juhee directs you with her tiny finger at the window. You immediately understood what she meant because she is obsessed with her ANITEEZ friends. “Oh, wow! It does look like the sky where they sailed their ship.” You looked at your beautiful child with fondness.

Approximately eleven hours later, the mother and daughter landed in California. When existing at the terminal, you notice the group’s manager is waiting for you both. You greeted and thanked them because they knew you’d be coming and wanted to help out for Seonghwa’s surprise.

The gorgeous city is lit up during the dark hours. It creates a magical ambiance that can’t be forgotten.

As a new day begins, you and Seungah are getting ready to meet up with the guys. You also did your best not to let your husband know you were in the same hotel as him.

“Omo! You’re so pretty! Are you an angel from heaven?!”

You are dressing up Juhee in a pretty pink dress with her hair in a ponytail with a glittery silver bow. It has become warmer, these days, so it is best to wear lightweight clothing. Juhee just smiles, revealing her growing teeth. Somewhere in the future, she’ll have a lot of people chasing for her. It once occurred to you that Juhee would be a musician like Jongho. But overall, you will support whatever decision she makes that brings her joy.

“Alright. Let’s see appa and the uncles at the park. Don’t forget baby, we are surprising appa.” You and Juhee are finished getting ready. The outfits are stylish, the makeup is on point, and the hair is nicely done. You also put her JJONGbear in a small backpack.

Upon sneaking up on Jongho, you and Juhee decide to surprise him from behind.

The maknae and his hyungs are sitting under the tree having a picnic in a gorgeous park. Hongjoong is the first to see you and Juhee approaching so quietly. The members except for Jongho see them coming in their direction. They remained calm and quiet as possible.

“While I was practicing, I tried to hold the flag properly during “The Real” performance but the wind–”

“Appa!”

Jongho felt his heart almost jump out of his chest when small arms wrapped around his neck. His eyes widened in shock, as soon as he saw his daughter’s gorgeous face. “Hi, darling.” You nonchalantly greeted your husband with a wave.

At once, his hyungs burst out laughing and cheered ecstatically. Jongho comes back to earth and brings his baby into his arms. Juhee’s infectious laughter filled the air. Jongho presses a kiss onto her mochi cheek. You then join your little family hug. You placed a kiss on Jongho’s temple.

“What is all this?!” Jongho is still confused.

You couldn’t stop smiling at your adorable husband. “A surprise! We all set it up for you because we wanted to cheer you up.” You explained briefly. Jongho’s heart melted. You traveled hours long just to see him.

He brings a kiss on the lips and the members squealed at the sudden bold maknae. Juhee didn’t notice her parents were sharing a sweet affection because she was too focused on the candy. Jongho slips away his lips from yours to say, “Thank you so much, my love.”

You chuckled blithely. “You’re very welcome, my Haribo.” You called him by his nickname. You’ll never stop using it since you first fell for Jongho.

Soon enough, the Choi Bear family and ATEEZ have a lovely picnic together. Not to mention, the members fought over Juhee to have her sit with one of them.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez writing #ateez jongho #jongho ateez #choi jongho #jongho #ateez jongho x reader #jongho ateez x reader #choi jongho x reader #jongho x reader #jongho x y/n #jongho x you #ateez jongho fluff #choi jongho fluff #jongho fluff

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thecheshirerat · 2 months ago

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On TAZ-

Wow that sounds like I’m about to summarize some sort of discourse but I promise I’m not. I guess I’ll say that I really like this show and I will keep listening even if my worst fears come to pass, so keep that in mind!

For reference, I started listening near the end of Amnesty.

I’ve noticed, with the past few arcs- really since Ethersea- the narratives have just… not been fulfilling their promises, so to speak. They’ve been placing a lot of guns that don’t go off. What I mean by that is, the characters are great. Excellent, really. Lady Godwin? HELL YES. Emerich Dreadway? Fuck yeah! And so on! And the settings and premises have been epic- the goofiness and also horrifying nature of Engrave, the mad and thrilling world of Steeplechase- these things are COOL AS FUCK.

and then the actual narratives keep flopping?

And honestly, I notice it most in the endings, because you can really tell when an ending doesn’t land. You feel the sense of disappointment. But with vs. Dracula, for example, I could kinda see leading up to it that the ending couldn’t really BE anything special, because they lowkey didn’t set themselves up for it.

They spent the campaign fucking around in Engrave, finding clues and solving problems and not really experiencing any particularly meaningful character arcs or growth or, idk, forming relationships? So there wasn’t much to pay off, I’m not gonna lie!

Of course it doesn’t feel quite as dissatisfying when you’re in the thick of it, because they’re funny and the stuff is cool and- oh hey! Lady Godwin’s been turned into a werehorse against her will?? that’s got some real potential for a LOT of allegories and exploration of some fun character development! And then it’s kinda played as a joke. And then they do that again and again.

And they actually said that that was a move they made intentionally, in the TTAZZ. I’m not quoting them perfectly here, this is from memory, but I do remember them mentioning that they wanted lighthearted comedy without the burden of real life story stuff. And I get that, honestly, but… it’s not the choice I would’ve made. I do think you can keep a lighthearted tone while also, idk, forming relationships and wholesomely engaging with some amount of emotion. And sometimes going way too deep is funny as a tone shift!

But I digress. One thing that’s also popped out to me is the almost complete lack of any kind of romantic storyline or even references. This becomes obvious if you’re in a fandom because everyone is always dying to ship SOMEONE, and you can tell when people are really getting desperate. I don’t blame them for not wanting to roleplay romance with their family, and I do think stories lacking romance are COOL and SHOULD BE ENCOURAGED!

However if you can’t find ANYBODY to ship together… that may mean you just don’t have character bonds. The growing popularity of the PC polycule is interesting to me; I wonder if it’s partially because

a) none of the pcs have significant relationships outside of their party and

b) even within the party, there doesn’t seem to be much chemistry between any given pair of characters…? I hope I’m making my point well here- the PCs all seem equally close and have more or less the same relationship to all of their compatriots with little distinction, meaning, essentially, no shipping fodder that doesn’t involve just all of ‘em.

Either way, it makes me wonder if I can blame the “Graduation has too many NPCs!” critique. They really stopped giving the parties tag-along main NPCs after graduation, with the exception of maybe.. Urchin? Kodira? Shlabethany? Poppy? and even they get relatively little “screen” time. Steeplechase has great NPCs, I love them to death, but none of the PCs seem to ever have one on one conversations with NPCs or each other that do not explicitly focus on the plot. And I think that’s part of why the characters feel so underdeveloped despite having spent a lot of time with them- because in this character-driven genre, we get very little insight into their feelings or motivations or even their rudimentary backstories.

I started watching Fantasy High recently and it made me realize a couple things about TAZ.

1) Recently, TAZ has sooo few core NPCs, and it’s weird that the characters aren’t doing more one-on-one purely character based scenes. And that makes it really tough to develop them.

2) TAZ is- and I should have realized this before- one of many good dnd podcasts. They’re probably looking for a niche they can master.

And it sounds like they’re trying to get back to that old “Here there be Gerblins!” energy. They’ve referenced it so many times in recent TTAZZes- they wanted to be job-focused, allowing story stuff to happen organically, so they tried a more open world vibe with Ethersea. They wanted to be less afraid to kill stuff, so they tried playing criminals (and were still afraid to kill stuff). They wanted to be silly and light on character, as they tackled with taz vs dracula. Now they’re trying to bring in the silly cartoon vibe with Abnimals. I think they’re trying to make that family-friendly, funny and goofy show their niche. Something other actual plays can’t be better at them at.

And honestly it kinda makes me sad, that they keep trying to go back to Balance while ignoring everything they learned during it. Because I loved Dust. Because I loved Amnesty. Because I loved Ethersea. I loved these past arcs! But they keep doing their brilliant characters dirty for some reason!!! And i don’t know why!!!!

You know that meme about people who ask questions in movies and then the person responds “Have you ever been to a movie before? You watch them and the information is revealed.” There have been so many times in TAZ recently where information has Not been revealed and if they keep doing it the audience will stop bothering to suspend their disbelief, because the trust just isn’t there.

What is Montrose’s deal? What on earth was Carmine Denton’s whole thing? Tell me more about Zoox’s feelings, about Devo’s past, about Amber’s future. Show me how Lady Godwin feels about the body horror that is her life- like, seriously! WHY DID WE HAVE TO COMPLETELY DISMISS THE OPPORTUNITY TO DISCUSS GENERATIONAL TRAUMA IN MUTT’S LIFE FOR A JOKE??

Do you remember in Steeplechase where the boys were getting medical attention or something- i don’t remember, but they were all in one room and only talking about The Plot. And Poppy literally banged on the door (speaking for both Justin and me, tbh) and was like “does anyone want to share any feeeeelings??” and they were like NOPE! and they moved on!!

like. cmon. you can’t just put a character like montrose out there and then leave them severely underdeveloped to the point that what would be interesting in proper context, with audience insight, becomes confusing and chaotic.

I just wish they would take their stories as seriously as we do.

It feels to me like they don’t believe in themselves, and it makes me sad. Maybe they didn’t get the response they wanted from Ethersea and so they’ve been trying to pivot, hoping to recapture whatever it was that earned them a loyal audience.

Again, I love them. They’re so funny and I’ll keep listening until the day they stop making this show, and when it happens I’ll cry.

But i KNOW they have more in them. Remember the “we’ll grow gills” monologue from Justin in the Prologues? Remember Travis’s SOLID acting with Devo? Or his awesome choice to give Lyndon/Beef a clearly delineated work/irl identity? His excellent narration and prose? Remember when Montrose described being lonely?! Remember all those moments where Shit Got Real and you cared??? The nanofather said some dope shit! dracula and victor and sweater dracula had such a wild dynamic! Clint’s acting in Dust 2- I can’t remember the characters name right now- was ASTOUNDING, I genuinely didn’t know he had that in him and it blew me away!

I’m not referencing Balance on purpose, both because the fandom is way to hung up on it and because I want to prove that you don’t even have to look at Balance, or even Post-Balance arcs, to see this kind of good cool stuff!

GAAAAAAAGHHHH!!! I want them to have fun. But also. We’re starving out here.

#that’s all for now #i need to go to bed..#taz #the adventure zone #taz steeplechase #taz vs dracula #taz ethersea #cheshi squeaks

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phoneuserhana333 · 1 year ago

Text

.°˖✧ NSFW+SFW neighbor!doctor!abby / neighbor!producer!reader headcanons .°˖✧

tags: NSFW!!!, dom!abby, strap on, size kink, semi-public car sex, recording the deed, undefined relationship, fluff? perhaps?, hickey giving, come to brazil

:: notes; basically miscellaneous headcanons and thoughts!! hope u enjoy<3 also, part two of the story-based headcanons is in the works, but i fear that it’ll be tooooo long:(

PART1 — PART2 — PART3 — NSFWHC

• during your situationship era, just when you started to get close, abby and you would pick each other’s packages up. you both had expensive equipment shipped over often, so it was a welcome gesture.

• imagine your shocked face when you see a “nsfw, do not open in public!” stamp on one of these packages

• when you rip it open, and find a sleek black strap on (that’s way too big), you nearly cum on the spot. you could barely wrap your hand around it!

• of course, abby would make it fit, albeit with a bit of a struggle she secretly enjoyed, which is exactly why she ordered a bigger size. dr. anderson has a raging size kink!

• abby acts all cool and unbothered when you show her the love songs that you wrote about her. what you don’t see is her giggling and blushing red when she hears the same song in the hospital during her shift a few weeks later, blasting on the radio in the voice of some singer who you work with often

• on the other hand, hearing a more suggestive song she knows is about her will have the woman pulling the car over during a road trip and kissing you until you’re breathless; “backseat, on your knees”

• and suddenly you’re being fucked silly with her hand over your mouth and the other gripping your hips, as abby tries to angle the strap juuust right so that it pleases you both

• it took abby months to find out you were famous. honestly, nora probably told her.

• and she didn’t realize how famous you are until you started dating. kinda dawns upon her when you explain why people are commenting “come to brazil” on a photo of you holding hands, but she’s still pretty clueless

• she is the FIRST person to tell you that a sample or song or lyric sucks (“you know i love you but sweetheart… what is this?”), followed by a pat on the butt and a kiss on the cheek for trying

• she likes to help with lyrics but stays away from instruments and melodies, rightfully so

• accidentally pressed some random buttons when she was fucking you in your home studio once and recorded the whole thing. will send the audio to you randomly, followed by a formal “When will you be home, darling? :)”

• technologically illiterate. poor abs

• when you were still in that undefined phase of your relationship, abby would hate fuck you alll the time.

• singing loudly late into the night? she’s stuffing your red panties into your mouth to shut you up. back talking when she’s telling you off? suddenly you’re bent over her knee, spanked and edged into oblivion. having another party? abby already snuck in, trapping you in the bathroom until she’s had enough of your pussy

• abby herself has no idea why she’s hatefucking you 80% of the time. spoiler alert: it’s because of her repressed emotions towards you. abby doesn’t really date around imo and you showing up and flipping her life upside down was unexpected

• and tbh ellie doesn’t help with this; she’s a huge fan of your work, knows all the singers you work with and is always super nice to you whenever dina drags her along to your parties

• abby hates her. she becomes so much more affectionate towards you after she meets ellie: touching your shoulders and legs, wiping a crumb of food from the corner of your lips with her thumb, anything she can get away with basically

• makes you cum extra hard the night after she met ellie, making sure your neck and collarbones are bruised from her rough kisses and bites (and you’re not even dating yet, how scandalous!)

• she confessed first. horribly anxious and overdressed, abby showed up at your door with a bouquet of assorted flowers, that she chose based on their meaning, your favorite champagne and some sweets you liked. thoughtful, thoughtful gal

• if it was up to her, you would’ve u-hauled a loooog time ago, but she wants to give you space. still, you find yourself sleeping over 6 nights a week and daydreaming about matching rings. how odd!

• basically, you felt first, abby fell harder.

#abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #tlou #the last of us #wlw #sapphic #ellie williams

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queenariesofnarnia · 8 months ago

Text

late night confessions

tech x f!reader

gif not mine! creds to the owner

wc: 1,800

warnings: 18+ content! MDNI!, piv unprotected sex! (wrap your willy and don't be silly), consensual recording of sex, truth or dare, slightly dom! tech, porn with minimal plot in my opinion :) ENJOYYYYY

Shore leave on Coruscant was rare, however it never stopped the batch from having a bit of drunken fun. Tonight, they even got you to tag along, and their plan to see you drunk for the first time was successful to say the least. They had a decent time at 79’s but brought the fun back to the ship. Wrecker suggested a game of truth or dare, as childish as this would have seemed among the batch when sober, how could they say no right now? You always encourage them to have some fun on leave, and that’s what lead to your dare.

“I dare you to share what I overheard you sharing with Commander Tano the other night.” Crosshair and Hunter smirked. You had a feeling someone heard you, all that mattered to you was that it wasn’t the person it involved.

“I tell her a lot of things gents be more specific” you tried playing it off by crossing your arms over your chest leaning back into your chair.

“You know exactly what we mean” Cross said pointing his toothpick towards his goggle wearing brother. It was now or never, the worse that can happen is that he doesn’t want that, and you can hopefully move on or just throw yourself out the ship while in hyperspace.

“Tech my darling” you called, his attention turning towards you with a slightly confused look on his face. “How would you feel about recording me like you record everything else?” your tone sultrier than the boys have ever heard it. Feeling his face heat up as you lean towards him giving him a better view of your cleavage that’s been on display all night. While his brothers got a good view of your rear, hoping their brother gave the right response.

“In front of my brothers cyar’ika?” he asked hopefully hiding the tremor in his voice due to your closeness. The sweet nickname in Mando’a sending tingles straight to your core.

“Wherever you want me Tech” you whispered in his ear kissing his jawline before settling back in your chair, a smile gracing your lips. Taking a moment to compose himself, Tech stood up taking your hand marching off the ship.

“I was hoping for a show!” Crosshair called after you two followed by laughter.

“Where are we going Tech?” you asked as he began to weave through the busy street to a small hotel. The twi’lek at the front desk offering you a smile and a room. You spaced out as Tech began to talk to him.

“Let’s go cyar’ika” Tech said guiding you to the lift, you wished the twi’lek a goodnight and his response was “have a good one for the both of us hon!” Once in the lift Tech’s hands were at your waist pulling you close to him before his lips crashed into yours. The doors opened to your floor; he led you to a room at the end of the hall. Soon as the lock clicked his hands were back on your waist, your arms around his neck. Pulling each other close until there was no room left between your bodies. Whatever you awakened in Tech tonight you did not regret. He pulled away from the kiss causing you to whine.

“No need to whine cyar’ika. I’m going to make sure you get precisely what you requested from me. Go sit on the bed” he commands directing you towards the bed in the center of the room. You crawl onto the bed sitting in the middle of the bed, sitting with your back against the headboard.

“For a moment I thought you were pulling my leg when you asked me. However, the way your pupils dilated once you were in close proximity to me. I also notice each time your thighs clench when you’re given an order by any of us. Though you are in a position to give orders you much rather them be given to you. Am I correct?” he asked as he got closer to the edge of the bed you nod in response. “Use your words cyar’ika or you won’t be receiving the night of pleasure I promised you.” The tone in his voice is one you’ve never heard him use, your arousal increasing by the second.

“Yes, you’re correct” your confident voice left behind on the ship. A chuckle escaped his lips at the sight of you, thighs clenched and pleading eyes for him to touch you. The way your confidence left you once you had his full attention made his cock twitch. Stripping out the top of his blacks discarding it on the floor. Bottom lip between your teeth as you admire how well built he is. He removes his shoes and his bottoms before sitting on the edge of the bed. He motions you towards him with the skillful fingers that you were hoping he was going to use on you tonight. Before you could fully reach the edge of the bed, he grabbed you pulling you into his lap. Your hands finding themselves on his shoulders. For a moment you sat and took in each other’s features. You knew he was handsome; the definition of his facial features made him even more stunning to you. His hand slid up your arm before cupping the back of your neck pulling you down for a searing kiss. The hand he placed on your waist pulled you closer to him.

“Strip for me cyar’ika” giving the command just above a whisper as he pulled away from your lips. Your fingers reach for the hem of your dress pulling it over your head tossing it somewhere in the small room. Stealing a quick kiss before sliding off his lap to pull your panties off.

Before they touched the floor he pulled you back into bed, quickly maneuvers himself above you. You can’t fight the urge to smile at him, even during this intimate moment your smile was still smitten. He gave a little smile back dipping down to kiss your lips, before moving down to your neck. He nipped and sucked your sweet spots leaving marks that you’ll have to cover once you’re back in the field. His hands cupped your breasts in rolling your nipples between his fingers deepening the kiss, tongue slipping in your mouth exploring it. His hands began to explore your body, his callouses against your smooth skin sent tingles through your body. Once he got to your thighs he groaned into the kiss. You’ve seen him stare at your thighs on numerous occasions, but you didn’t expect him to enjoy the feel of them this much. He begins to massage your thighs purposely going close to touching your soaked cunt before moving his hands away. Placing kisses and bites down your body, taking his time to elicit each sound from you. Sounds that he will listen to later in a case you aren’t in his reach. Finally reaching your clit, flicking it with his tongue causing a whimper to slip past your lips.

“Judging by that noise, you’re a little sensitive. Aren’t you cyar’ika?” he questions teasingly, before licking up your juices before sucking your clit in between his lips sucking on it gently while increasing his speed. Without breaking eye contact, two of his fingers enter your cunt going to work on your g-spot. The way his skilled fingers brushed against the spongy spot causes your legs to shake around his head instinctively trying to clamp shut. “Don’t” he growls pulling away from your clit for a split second before getting back to work. Your fingers find his light brown curls making a mess out of them as you reached your orgasm. You were barely forming words, coming out as broken babbles and breathy moans. Your orgasm came quickly, yelling out a stream of curses mixed with his name. Pulling out his fingers slowly he brings them to your lips for you to taste yourself and you do so without hesitation. He groans at the sight of you with his fingers in your mouth, pulling you into a dominating kiss once he removes them. “I want a taste for myself, but that will have to wait. I fear that I am far too impatient to wait to be inside you” he kneels between your legs easily wrapping them around his trim waist. He lines himself up with your entrance, before slowly entering you. Eyes fluttering shut at the feel of your velvety walls hugging his shaft. Head tossed back in pure bliss you barely believe that this is happening.

“Kriff Tech” you moan attempting to pull him closer with your legs. He pulls out of you slightly before thrusting back in, adjusting himself if need be. Finding a comfortable position his picks up the pace of his thrusting. Pinning your hands above your head with one hand as the other toys with your clit.

“You’re doing so well cyar’ika. Look at how pretty you look taking me” his praise makes you whine his name in a begging tone. “Imagine how pretty you’ll look once your full of my cum” His voice deeper than you’ve heard before. Your back arches, the thrusts hitting you in a more pleasurable way. The sound of skin slapping together echoed through the room, mixed with the moaning, whimpering, and groaning coming from the both of you.

“Tech I don’t think I’m going to last much longer” your sentence broken between moans.

“I’m not either cyar’ika” he grits out as the pace of his thrusts slow down. His cock twitching in you, “Where do you want me?” he asks finally letting go of your hands giving you the chance to wrap your arms around your neck.

“Inside please” you beg, nails digging into his upper back. One more thrust and he orgasm hits him, releasing in you but his thrusts don’t stop. He continues to lazily thrust in you rubbing your clit when you hit your second orgasm of the night. Screaming Tech’s name, not caring who heard the name of the beautiful man that brought you pleasure. You pull him down for a kiss as his cock begins to soften in you. “We’re doing this again sometime” a tired laugh escapes you.

“I agree. As well as I was correct about how pretty you look with my cum dripping out of you” he says pulling away, making sure this moment was in the recording, before ending it. He gets up going to the fresher, you hear running water, and a smile makes its way to your face. He walks back out picking you up with ease, carrying you to the shower. Let’s just say the neighboring rooms probably didn’t get much sleep tonight. This was the best confession ever made.

#the bad batch #tech x reader #the bad batch x reader #wrecker x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb tech #xreader #star wars #the bad batch smut #star wars smut

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in1-nutshell · 8 months ago

Note

I lied, I don't want Megatron's confession constantly getting interrupted. I want them to kiss, I wanna see Megatron being a simp for his small spider wife.

bonus

Optimus - Thank you for putting aside our differences and meeting me here. And I'd like it to be known that right now, I am not speaking to you as autobot to decepticon but as mech to mech. With that being said, I will find a way to kill you if you hurt buddy

SHOVEL TALK PLS

another thing to tag on, Im sorry I only got ideas after requests are closed, i hope when you see this you have a nice day and drink water.

Will we finally get the confession? Yes? No? You'll have to find out.

I had other request similar to this one so this will have some of their elements too.

Better context, read the last Elita One's twin sister post

Hope you enjoy!

Elita One's twin sister and Megatron confessions?

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronain (techno organic) reader

TFA

All Decepticon projects had halted when Buddy disappeared through that portal.

Not that anyone would object to it anyways.

Everyone was worried about where Buddy would end up.

Blitzwing’s personalities all agreed to work together to find her, causing a near cohesive flow.

Near, the faces would sometimes have a fit over little details in the search.

Starscream halted all his plans to overthrow Megatron until Buddy was found.

Lugnut messaged Strika to keep an optic out on the space bridges they were thinking about taking in case Buddy was around.

Shockwave was also notified about Buddy sudden disappearance.

Megatron was by far the most worried in the group.

He could still see Buddy trying to reach for his servo.

After 3 days of searching Megatron knew what he had to do.

He didn’t like it, but Buddy’s life potentially at risk and time was at the essence now.

The entire Decepticon group had flown to the city and landed in the center of the park.

There was no way he was going to message the smaller Prime, but at least showing up would do something to alert the Autobots.

Within no time most of the Autobots had shown up at the park.

Megatron walking towards Optimus.

Optimus walks to him.

They meet in the middle.

“Megatron.”--Optimus

“Prime. I have news.”--Megatron

Optimus doesn’t like the look Megatron is giving him.

They look frightened.

What could possibly…

“Megatron, where’s Buddy?”--Optimus

Megatron looks down a bit and clenches his servo.

“A portal opened inside the base. We were—I was unable to stop her from getting sucked inside.”--Megatron

Optimus and the Team’s optics go wide.

“How? When?”--Optimus

“Three days ago. We have not found a trace of Buddy.”--Megatron

“Do you think that she may have been kidnapped again?”--Optimus

“Not likely. There would have been traces of…”--Megatron

Optimus clenches his axe.

“How can we help?”--Optimus

“Firstly, a truce needs to be—”--Megatron

Optimus shakes his servo with Megatron.

“All right, next?”--Optimus

Optimus managed his team to start looking for Buddy.

Prowl and Bulkhead went to Dinobot Island to see if Buddy was around.

They came across Dinobot’s there.

They were worried that Buddy hadn’t shown up either.

Grimlock managed to organize the Dinobots to help with the search.

Ratchet, Bumblebee and Sari searched more in the city for Buddy.

Optimus managed to get in contact with Elita and tell her what was going on.

She nearly turned the entire ship around hearing that.

“Elita you can’t come back to Earth without the right jurisdiction.”--Optimus

“Optimus, Buddy is in trouble. My twin needs my help.”--Elita

“I’m with Prime on this one Elita.”--Sentinel

“What?”--Elita

“What?”--Optimus

“We have orders to get back to Cybertron and that’s what they expect. They don’t know Buddy is still alive. Ultra Magnus still doesn’t know. It’s going to give us and Buddy more trouble if we go back.”--Sentinel

“…Fine.”--Elita

“We’ll keep an optic out on our end Optimus.”--Sentinel

“Thank you, both of you.”--Optimus

“Optimus, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you know.”--Jazz

“Megatron told me.”--Optimus

“…Come again.”--Jazz

“He told us he needed help finding Buddy. She’s been gone for three days.”--Optimus

“Three days?!”--Elita

“How do you know this isn’t a trap? How do you know that Megatron isn’t lying?”--Sentinel

“Trust me, he wouldn’t be lying about Buddy.”--Optimus

“How—”--Sentinel

“Trust me on this.”--Optimus

“…I hope you’re right.”--Elita

A few days later…

Megatron is flying around early in the morning when he sees that same blasted portal open in the middle of the sky.

Something shoots out of it and the portal closes.

He looks closer at the thing and nearly has a spark attack.

It was Buddy.

“WHY CAN’T I HAVE A SAFE LANDING?!”--Buddy

Megatron dives down and grabs Buddy’s waist slowing her descent and flies upwards.

Buddy has her optics shut closed preparing for the worst.

“Buddy?”--Megatron

Buddy opens her optics and sees the shocked optics of Megatron.

Her Megatron.

“Megatron?”--Buddy

Megatron just pulls her in a tight hug.

Buddy does her best to hug back.

“I…I thought…”--Megatron

“Megatron, even after all this time, you still doubt me?”--Buddy

Megatron gives her a slightly unamused look.

“You know what I mean.”—Megatron

Buddy giggles a bit.

“I do, but sometimes it too easy with you.”--Buddy

“Too easy?”--Megatron

“Yes, like this.”--Buddy

Buddy cups both her servos on Megatron’s faceplate.

Megatron’s optics grow slightly but close them when she starts gently stroking her digit on his face.

“Is this fine?”--Buddy

Megatron just nods.

“I missed you.”--Buddy

“As did I.”--Megatron

Megatron looks at Buddy’s optics longingly.

“I love you.”--Megatron

Megatron’s optics go wide as the three words slipped out of his mouth.

Buddy’s optics went wide but then a happy smile graces her face as she pressed her helm against his.

He leans in too.

“It’s a good thing I feel the same way too then.”--Buddy

“Feel what?”--Megatron

“Love. I love you Megatron. I love you so.”--Buddy

Megatron lets a smile loose and closes his optics focusing on the moment with Buddy’s helm still resting on his.

They both come back to the park after Megatron let everyone know that she was okay.

The Decepticon’s want to high tail it to the park, but Megatron tells them to get back to the base.

Begrudgingly they agree.

Optimus is the first one to arrive at the park and tackles Buddy down.

Optimus locking Buddy in a tight hug on the ground.

“Don’t you ever do that again! Do you hear me!?”--Optimus

Buddy just chuckles and hugs him back.

Optimus helps Buddy get off from the floor.

Budy moves her way back to Megatron’s side and takes his servo in hers.

Optimus gives Buddy a look before getting the message.

Optimus turns to Megatron flashing the axe in his servo.

“I thank you for putting the war aside for Buddy, I do. And right now, still has nothing to do with the war, but as mech to mech.”--Optimus

Optimus gives him his best death glare.

“If you ever hurt her in anyway, shape, form, and I find out… You’re going to have to deal with me. And you wont like the ways I deal with things angrily; you can ask Buddy that.”--Optimus

Buddy having flashbacks to Optimus fighting a whole group of cadets because they hurt her.

She had tried to get Elita and Sentinel to get him to stop, but in the end the two joined in.

Megatron looks at the Prime for a moment before taking out his other servo.

“You have my word, Optimus Prime. For what ever its worth to you.”--Megatron

Optimus shakes it before giving Buddy one last hug.

Prime transforms and gets back to the plant to call off the search party.

After getting buried in more hugs and light scoldings, there is a mini celebration at the base for finding Buddy.

Buddy had to make many calls during the party to make sure everyone knew she was okay.

“I see the Spider survived.”--Strika

“Yes, I did Strika. I’m home.”--Buddy

“I must ask what happened though. Megatron had most of the projects stopped to go look for you.”--Strika

Buddy blushes a bit at the comment.

“Well, that’s a story for the next time you come over.”--Buddy

“I see, but one last question.”--Strika

“Yes?”--Buddy

Strika points to Buddy’s servo that is off screen.

Buddy lifts it up a bit showing Megatron’s servo carefully intertwined with hers still.

Strika’s optics go wide.

Buddy smiles sweetly.

“Hmm…I believe I’ll have to make my visit sooner then.”--Strika

“Okay then! Bye Strika!”--Buddy

Strika cuts the video call.

Megatron squeezes her servo a bit.

Buddy smiles and squeezes back.

SLAM!

Megatron and Buddy jump at the sound.

Megatron pulls Buddy closer still holding her servo.

“Lord Megatron we have the—”--Lugnut

Lugnut zeroes in on the servos.

“Oh… My…”--Lugnut

“Umm, Lugnut? Are you—”--Buddy

��ITS HAPPENING! ITS HAPPENING!”--Lugnut

“What?”--Megatron

Starscream and Blitzwing come running in and spot Megatron’s servo in Buddy’s.

Blitzwing throws his servos in the air with utter joy and relief.

“Finally! It’s over now!”--Blitzwing

“What’s over now?”--Buddy

“The endless pinning! You two have been pinning over each other for years and finally, FINALLY got together!”--Starscream

Buddy hides half of her face with her other servo.

Megatron feels embarrassed but knows that he can’t really punish them for this.

It was torture for him too.

Megatron drags Buddy away from the cheering mechs.

“Have fun you two!”--Starscream

Megatron stops and gets ready to go back and punch Starscream.

“Megatron no.”--Buddy

Megatron follows Buddy as if nothing happened.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfa x reader #tfa x platonic reader #tfa optimus prime #tfa megatron x reader #tfa megatron #Elita One's twin sister

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milaeth · 1 year ago

Text

୨୧┊𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. ( lando norris )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part one ∿ part two ( coming soon )

✧.* pairings ─ lando norris x fem! football player! reader

✧.* genre ─ social media au ⨾ fluff

✧.* summary ─ in which you're a football player and after winning the champions league with your team, a secret admirer named "L" sends you flowers. everyone thinks it's your friend Lance, but what if it's someone else? perhaps someone who’s also a formula one driver and is known for being a big fan of yours...

✧.* face claim ─ jana fernández (she’s obv around the same age as lando in this)

✧.* warnings ─ none

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ so sorry for the wait, i had to take a little break, but i’m back now! btw i’ve had this in my drafts for literal months, but i finally decided to post it so enjoy :)

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, fcbfemeni and 753,965 others

yourusername We rocked the semi finals, now it’s time for the actual one! We can do this!!🔥

tagged: @/fcbfemeni @/wchampionsleague

view all 375 comments . . .

user1604 massive win! some sick tackles made by you today, wow. so proud of you guys🔵🔴

user693 LETS GOOOO

lance_stroll So proud of you💙❤️

yourusername Thank you Lance❤️

user4635 y’all seeing this???

user8476 the hearts…🤭

user4316 BARCELONA 🔛🔝

user1036 mother is mothering‼️

landonorris Congratulations, you guys were amazing!👏

liked by yourusername

user5837 YOU GUYS WILL ROCK THE FINAL

fcbfemeni best cb in laliga🔥🔵🔴

yourusername best club💙❤️

user3835 devoured and left no crumbs

user8547 who is that girl and why are lance and lando always in her likes and comments??

user9527 girl bffr💀

user1584 “that girl” is Y/n mf L/n.

user5264 @user8547 That is Y/n L/n! She plays for Barcelona’s women's team. She and Lance have been friends for quite a while and I guess he introduced her to the other drivers at some point because a lot of them follow her. She's been to a few races and sometimes still attends them when she's not playing for Barcelona! :)

2 May 2023

landonorris just added to their story . . .

liked by mclaren, fcbfemeni and 97,537 others

private replies to this story . . .

maxfewtrell Off to go see the love of your life play?👀

landonorris Shut up mate

maxfewtrell You didn’t deny it👀

landonorris Dude she doesn’t even know I exist

maxfewtrell Of course she knows you exist. She’s friends with Lance and therefore knows you from the grid.

landonorris Yeah okay but that’s about it. The first and only time we talked in person was in 2020 so she probably forgot about my existence.

maxfewtrell Well then change that😉

yourusername

liked by alexiaputellas, wchampionsleague and 1,846,053 others

yourusername This feels unreal🏆🔵🔴

tagged: @/fcbfemeni @/wchampionsleague

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lance_stroll I’m literally so proud of you. We have to celebrate this, love you💙

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user836 @lance_stroll confess to her already🙄🙄

user638 i ship them so hard

landonorris This was the first football game I watched live and the atmosphere was amazing. Great win💙❤️

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landonorris I could tell! Today’s game won’t be the last one I’ll see live

yourusername I hope so :)

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9 May 2023

yourusername just added to their story . . .

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awkward-tension-art · 5 months ago

Text

Bacta and Bandages Chp.2 (Rex x Reader)

oops, I added some angst with your fluff. sorry about that.

Chapter 1. Chapter 3.

Vod

CW: Mentions of clone abuse, bruises, clone mistreatment, Medical procedures, needles, Talk of nightmares, panic attacks, flashbacks, Reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), reader is a doctor, if I miss a tag LMK!

Minors DNI

Ahsoka was your first friend after you spent a few rotations adjusting.

She was bubbly, spunky and energetic. Despite all of that, she had a heart of gold and was trying her best to be a good Jedi.

The young togruta was the one to show you around the venator-class ship. She told of the inner workings, the decks, where the barracks are located, the mess hall, even a lounge type area with an endless supply of caf.

It was through her that signaled for the clones to warm-up to you. Rex was still formal and professional, but you’d nod and smile whenever you passed each other in the hall.

Hardcase and Kix were easy-going. The day you arrived and settled, they approached and properly apologized for slamming into you earlier. It was rather sweet.

In fact, a lot of the clones were kind to you. Some were tense, ‘shinies’ you’ve learned is the term for rookies. Some were more open and genuine. Though, a couple seemed somewhat fearful. As if afraid of offending you.

Over time you hoped to break these walls.

Currently, you were treating a clone, Jesse, for a blaster bolt graze from a training incident. Rex was also in the medical bay, arms crossed and staring rather disapprovingly at the poor trooper. Both were mostly silent as you treated him with bacta and bandages.

Simple fix…What antics caused him to shoot his own arm though? By the look on Rex’s face, it must’ve been something ridiculous.

Once you removed his glove, you paused. The wound was on the back of his wrist, it was minor, but the real concern were the bruises that littered his skin. They were the size and shape of fingers, as if someone grabbed Jesse.

You were trained to recognize instances of abuse. After all, people of any gender would come to your hospital carrying the wounds their loved-ones left. But clones weren’t allowed romantic partners.

So who hurt Jesse?

Your eyes drifted to Captain Rex before looking at your patient, “Jesse, would you like to…have some privacy?” You held his hand, offering him kindness if he chose to accept.

Something seemed to click for the both of them, “Oh! These?” The trooper you were treating gave you a smile as he motioned to the bruises, “Rough-housing with the boys! We’re brothers after all and things can get…”

“Rambunctious.” Rex finished his sentence.

Liar.

You didn’t press, “Well, tell your boys not to be so rough.”

The captain scoffed, “Good luck with that.”

After you stabilized the bandages, you gave Jesse a small smile, “There. Easy treatment.” You slipped your gloves off, “I’ll give you some painkillers to take before you sleep. That way the healing pain doesn’t keep you awake.”

“It’s alright Doc.” Jesse shook his head, “I’ve been through worse.”

You turned to look at him again. Your concern was evident, but you couldn’t force information out of him if he wasn’t willing to give it, “If you get hurt at all, by anything or anyone, you can come to me.”

I’m here to help you.

The trooper nodded with a smirk and stood, correcting his glove and armor again, “Thanks doc.” He gave you a salute before walking out of the medical bay.

Rex was going to follow but you spoke up first, “Captain Rex?”

He paused and turned to look at you, “What is it, Doctor?”

Your words had to be careful. One wrong move and you could label yourself as ‘unsafe’ for the clones to go to if they needed help. After a second you spoke calmly, making sure Rex knew you only wanted to be a safe person, “If you, or anyone needs anything, I’m here.”

He gave you a small smirk and a nod before leaving the medical bay.

Later that night, you were looking over medical reports when the doors opened. Two troopers, ones you haven't met before, were standing in the doorway. They were both clad in their blacks, most likely having been sleeping.

One of them, with a shaved head and a scar on his lip, had his hands on the shoulders of another trooper with the standard military haircut. It looked like the former had led the latter, who was shaking and distressed, to you.

“Doctor?” The leader seemed startled, “I um…I found him…”

“I got you,” You stood from your desk and motioned to a bed, “What are your names?”

“I’m Denal.” The stable one got the other onto the bed, “This is Vaughn.”

Denal and Vaughn. Got it.

You knelt by Vaughn’s feet, “Hey, Vaughn.” Your voice took a softer, gentler tone. You were clearly dealing with someone in great distress, “What happened?”

“He had some kind of nightmare and just…bolted. I found him in a supply closet.” Denal answered.

Nightmare. Panic attack? Most likely.

You nodded, keeping at a lower eye level with the panicked soldier, “Vaughn…I’m going to help you ok?”

His brown eyes looked around wildly.

“Does this happen normally?” Your questions were directed at the other trooper now.

He shook his head, “When we have nightmares, usually we can calm each other down. I’ve never seen him this bad though.”

The clones rely on each other for emotional support. Good to know.

If Vaughn wasn’t responding to your words, he wouldn’t be coherent enough to follow directions to calm him down. It seemed like he was caught in some type of flash-back. His mind was in overdrive and he was thrown into this attack.

Something triggered him. The nightmare.

“Denal,” You stood, keeping a hand on your patient's shoulder, “I’d like to use a mild sedative on him, do you think he’d consent to that?” you turned to face him. Perhaps clones weren’t fans of medication. After all, Jesse rejected painkillers earlier…

The coherent trooper nodded, “Yea, if you think that's best.”

Oh, so maybe Jesse wasn’t a fan of meds.

Wordlessly you went to one of the medicine cabinets and prepared the sedatives for him. You’d have to inject them, and in Vaughn’s current state, you weren’t entirely sure if that would end well.

Once things were prepared, you returned to kneel next to your patient, “Vaughn, I’m going to inject you with this, ok?” Your palm opened revealing the needle, “This will help, if you’ll let me.”

His eyes were staring directly at you, but they weren't seeing you.

“Denal, can you hold his hand?”

The other trooper sat next to his fellow soldier and grabbed his arm, “It’s gonna be ok, vod.”

Vod?

You didn’t comment as you slipped the needle into Vaughn’s arm. The sedatives were administered and you stood to toss the empty syringe. The medication kicked in fast, because the trooper stopped shaking when you returned to his side.

“Vaughn?” Your voice was still soft and quiet, “Do you know where you are?”

He looked around, before nodding, “The Resolute.”

You gave him a gentle smile, “Good. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” He croaked, “What…”

“Nightmare,” Denal answered, “You had a bad nightmare. Geonosis again?”

Vaughn was at the battle of Geonosis?

You heard the reports and numbers. Half of the Republic's army had been wiped out on that planet. Many Jedi as well. It was a bloodbath.

Your patient nodded slowly, “Yea…”

“S’ok vod,” the other soldier put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close.

You reached and put a comforting hand on his knee, “Do you want to sleep here until you need to be up and awake?”

The medical bay offered some more privacy. It was quieter and if he woke up again, he wouldn’t need to worry about waking his fellow soldiers.

To your surprise, he shook his head, “I’d rather be with my brothers.”

Brothers…The clones are brothers…of course…

You nodded in understanding, “Alright…I understand.” carefully, you got to your feet and sat down on his other side, “But if you feel like you need some quiet, you can come here.”

He gave you an exhausted, but grateful smile, “Thanks, doc.”

The two stood, but before they left, you asked, “Denal, Vaughn, what does vod mean?”

They shared a look with each other before Denal answered, “It’s mando’a. For sibling.”

“Sibling…thank you.” You smiled, “Get some rest, alright?”

Both of the soldiers left you alone again. After straightening the bed, you moved to your desk and picked up your datapad again.

Vod.

So the clones know mando’a…

#reader insert #tcw x reader #captain rex #captain rex x reader #clone trooper jesse #star wars tcw #star wars the clone wars #star wars #star wars x reader #clone troopers #clone wars 501st #501st #501st legion #501st shenanigans

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anystalker707 · 1 year ago

Text

"Show me how to kiss?"

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: Two sets of headcanons: one in which you ask Zoro to show you what it is like to kiss and another one in which he's the one to ask. Tags: Shy Zoro / Fluffy and loving / Also sorta funny Check out (Vinsmoke Sanji's version)

MASTERLIST

If you’re the one to ask him...

• He just. He doesn’t know how to kiss either. I mean, do you think he ever had the time or mindset to do it??

• So, it’s messy. None of you really know what to do.

• Behind it all, Zoro has been kinda hoping he could kiss you and you’d been looking at him in a different way lately, so something like that was sort of bound to happen at some point

• It’s like a switch turns for you two, and it’s impossible to stop after that because, after all, you gotta practice to be perfect, right?

“...They wouldn’t stop kissing.” You sighed, twisting your mouth a little as you thought back to the couple you saw at a bar when hanging out with the crew at an island. You and Zoro were out on the deck for the night watch; he sat back against the railing while you had your back on the ground, observing the stars above you. Once in a while, a colder breeze would make you shiver, but it wasn’t really that bad. The gentle rocking of the ship would intensify your tiredness, at times, but never enough to make your consciousness slip away into slumber, which resulted in sporadic and pointless talks. “It was obnoxious.”

Zoro hummed in agreement, shaking his head as he kept his gaze far in the horizon.

“What’s so great about it?”

He raised an eyebrow, humming again, and looked at you.

“About kissing,” you explained, sitting up and scooting closer to him with a sigh. “What’s good about it?”

...Why would he know? Zoro blushed a little as he looked away and preferred not to answer it. Maybe you’d give up on the question or talk about something else. Having to deal with always trying to find something other than the annoying couple at the bar was already stressful enough.

“Zoro.” You nudged him. “Can I ask you something?”

He blinked and looked at you for a moment. He nodded. You were a pain in the ass everyday—affectionately—, so he was mostly used to what you could come up with.

“Look, I don’t know how to say it without making it awkward, but like, I trust you, so...” You sighed, your eyes averting away for a moment. “Like, could you show me how to kiss? I never really had any time to think about it because I was always training to be strong out in the sea, y’know?” Was Zoro even paying attention? Even in the dark, you could see his red cheeks. Did you say something wrong?

“I can’t help you with that.” He kept looking forward, eyes narrowed. You knew that serious posture was just a play. It was when Robin and you ran into him taking care of babies.

You pouted. “What? C’mon, I’m just curious. We’ll just never talk about it.”

Zoro didn’t bulge, only groaning when you poked his side, squirming away more than he usually would. “I already said I can’t help you with that!”

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing really ever came from your mouth. Instead, you searched in your mind for some reference, however, you could only remember Zoro always in the corners of bars or celebrations or over the sake. He was never the type to be around hitting on someone like Sanji did nor pay attention to whoever approached him. Maybe...

“I think I get it.” You smirked a little. “You don’t know how to kiss either.”

The flush on Zoro’s face intensified as he gasped and widened his eyes. “Wh—What are you talking about?”

You chuckled. Of course, Zoro, the swordsman with his unbelievable focus on becoming the best ever and his whole damn shyness wouldn’t allow him to be with anyone else either. It was almost relatable.

“It’s obvious Zoro. You can tell me, though,” you continued, ignoring the stuttering mess he was in, “y’know, it all makes sense. And I’m, like, the closest one to you here, you can at least admit it to me, right?” You elbowed his side a little—you didn’t give a fuck about it, to be honest, it was just nice seeing him like that. “I’m up to helping you with it, though, hm? What do you say?” You chuckled again, but made sure to keep a serious hint. It was all a joke until he agreed. If he disagreed, you were just fucking around, right?

Zoro’s face was so red. He could feel it burning and everything felt too much. His heart already felt like it would rip off his chest, and then the way you elbowed his side and that your face was so close to his that he could feel your breath on the side of his face, he was—

“Fine!” He breathed before he could notice it himself.

You raised your eyebrows. Did you hear it right? “Fine,” huh? Your own cheeks warmed up at the thought.

“You really...”

“Don’t make me regret it.” Zoro gulped, and you almost chuckled as he shifted to face you, his eyes still not looking anywhere near yours.

Despite fooling around the whole time, a serious atmosphere fell over both of you simultaneously, having the two of you gradually fall quiet. Zoro took a deep breath while you already looked at his eyes, waiting for his gaze to meet yours, which it did, eventually, even if still a little uncertain. You wanted to smile, laugh and hide all at the same time, but still held the gaze.

The ship had never been that quiet and maybe the wind was a little colder than you thought it to be. It didn’t matter, though, because Zoro’s hand was warm against your cheek, and you held onto his wrist out of reflex, which also felt warm. A quiet exchange of gazes was enough to determine you were ready and he was leaning in.

It was slow and careful, with nervousness lacing it, but still sweet nonetheless.

Zoro’s nose tickled a little when it brushed against your own nose, as if testing the waters before you leaned in properly. The distance was miscalculated and your lips brushed together too soon, making both of you pull away at the same time as if it’d burned. It didn’t burn, no, but there was something.

Your eyes met Zoro’s and he had a similar look on his face—so he felt it too. He mirrored the small smile that showed up across your face before the two of you leaned in again, carefully and slowly letting your lips meet.

Warm. Zoro’s lips were warm, but the kiss also made you feel something inside your chest that stirred up with the “kiss”, and made you lean in for more as you’d seen other people do, which snatched a soft gasp from Zoro, but he still tried to make up for it. If anything, things were just messy. None of you really knew what to do, trying to set your own rhythm but also match with the other’s and put in practice only brief notions you only had so far.

Suddenly, Zoro had his other hand cupping the side of your neck, which made you pause for a moment, but it was more than enough for him to figure out exactly what was missing and make the kiss more of a kiss. You just followed his lead this time, letting his lips guide yours through a gentle and uncertain kiss that maybe awakened more in you that you were aware of.

Cold air replaced Zoro’s lips when he pulled away. Your mind was still a little fuzzy, so you took a moment to open your eyes, already meeting his waiting gaze when you did so.

“That...” You whispered and gulped. The small pause had Zoro holding his breath and tensing up. “Can we do it again?”

Zoro chuckled, closing his eyes as he blushed again. “I hoped you’d say that...”

The new kiss had actual synchrony, even if it was barely present. Your hands actually held onto his shoulders this time as you pressed yourself closer, allowing the kiss to be deeper.

There was a look on Zoro’s face when he pulled away this time, one you couldn’t quite read. “You taste nice.”

“I taste nice?” You chuckled. “What’s it like?”

“It’s...” Zoro sighed, blinking a couple of times as he looked at you. “Sweet. What do I taste like?”

“Sake.” You answered without missing a bit, which made his face fall a little; you chuckled.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

If he asks you...

• Zoro’s been thinking about it for a while now, to be honest, trying to find an excuse to make it happen

• He genuinely didn’t think it would be that good. He had little faith in it—mostly curiosity—, but when you kiss him, he just ends up getting lost and wants more. Just wants you to show him everything. Also uses the excuse he gotta practice to get perfect

“What’re you so grumpy about?” You raised an eyebrow, seeing Zoro walk in while grumbling under his breath. He usually didn’t come over to the aquarium bar when you were there during the afternoons messing with your own stuff just like the rest of the crew, so he certainly wanted attention that you were more than willing to give.

Zoro took a seat next to you, scowling. “That damn cook.”

“Oh.” You raised your eyebrows and sighed with a nod without looking up from the stuff you messed with. There were a few lists of what each one of the crew needed since you would soon make a stop on another island, so you needed to organize all of those and estimate how much money you’d need, and thinking wasn’t very easy with Zoro there, but it probably wasn’t anything that bad since it was just more fighting with Sanji. Not that he really cared about it, but you supposed it was a way of him gaining your attention despite how shy he tended to be. He wasn’t that shy around you, though. It was even funny when people commented about him being only cold and stoic—he could be, yeah, but he was also too shy for his own good.

“He’s spilling some stuff about kissing today, y’know?” Zoro huffed, crossing his arms. “About how he misses it and how I wouldn’t understand because I’ve never kissed!” He growled.

“Is it true, though?” You mumbled between the numbers of berries. 15 minus 7 resulted in 8, then 2 minus 1 would be 1, so 11 minus 7, so it would be...

Zoro clicked his tongue. “I’m not like him.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” you hummed. So, 15 minus 7 was 8, then the 2 turned into 1, and 11 minus—

“I don’t have time to waste around like he does, kissing and— and hell knows what.” He looked down with pursed lips then turned to you.

“Right.” You inhaled deeply and scratched out the math you were doing to start it all over again later. “It’s not really a waste of time, I mean. Depends on the person. What, you’re aromantic or something? Or just never kissed? You’re sounding a little too bitter about something so irrelevant.” Now and then, Zoro just needed you to poke him with the raw truth so he would ground himself in reality again a little.

“I—I wouldn’t think about it.” Zoro clicked his tongue, looking away again. “I got better things to do.”

You sighed, putting your pen away and sitting back on the couch. “I mean, you never tried it. I wouldn’t be so secure about it myself, in your position, but you do you, right? I'm no one to judge."

Maybe that rubbed off on Zoro the wrong way. He raised an eyebrow at you for a long moment, but all you could do was shrug and nod at him to say something already. You had work to do, after all.

"If you're so sure about it, then show me."

"What?"

"Show me how to kiss." Zoro's face had a tinge of red despite how confident he tried to seem.

Despite the surprise, a smirk still tugged on your lips as you raised your eyebrows. "Oh? You sure? Wanna give me your first kiss? Am I that special?"

He clicked his tongue and looked away once again. "Don't be annoying about it or else I'm leaving."

A chuckle erupted from your lips as you tugged a little on his haramaki when Zoro started to stand up. The way he put it all made you want to tease him more to humble him down a little, but you knew better than that; things probably wouldn't go the right way if you kept him there grumpier than he already was or even accidentally scared him away, something you absolutely didn’t want before such an opportunity.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” You scooted a little closer to Zoro on the couch, putting an arm over the backrest of the couch, behind him. “Right, seriously. You mean it?”

A little crease was still there between Zoro’s furrowed eyebrows as he glanced you up and down, with his arms still crossed over his chest.

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes. He could be just like that sometimes. Annoying.

“How do you do it? Is there any secret trick or—” Zoro shrugged and raised an eyebrow at you. His shoulders dropped a little from their jagged stance and his arms weren’t crossed so tightly anymore.

“I mean, there’s no secret, but there are a few tips I wish I knew before I did it the first time, y’know?” You shifted a little, trying to push your mind away from annoying numbers to a new setting instead. “Like, it’s not necessarily a continuous thing, and it’s sort of you kissing my upper lip while I kiss your bottom one and then vice versa, but you can also— You’re not listening, are you?”

“I’m not.” Zoro confessed with that grin that made you want to punch it right off his face. “Your lips do look nice while you talk, though.”

“...Shameless bastard.”

“What was that?” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Nothing!” You mirrored his expression and clicked your tongue, holding back a chuckle. “You’re quite useless sometimes, huh? You listen to nothing.” Your hand cupped Zoro’s face gently, letting your thumb reach the corner of his lips before going down along his lip. “That’s why you’re such an empty head, got nothing but muscles...”

Zoro grinned. “You may complain, but you just never get away from me.”

“I’ll just make you shut up at once.”

His hand held onto your elbow as you leaned in and finally pressed your lips to Zoro’s. It was a simple kiss, just keeping your lips against his for a few seconds before pulling back again. A light blush dusted his cheeks and he still glanced at your lips, so you leaned in once again to give him a kiss that wasn’t just like a prolonged peck, actually moving your lips together.

Zoro wasn’t the best at it—of course not—, but he still tried, his grip against your elbow tightening a little at times while he messily kissed you back, trying to keep it up and mirroring your movements. His lips were clumsy and messy, but still something that you could guide and make the whole thing worth something. You held his cheek as you deepened the kiss a little, which made his breath get caught in his throat and his lips get a little lost for a second before they followed your lead again.

The mere seconds you had to pull away already felt like too long, with you exchanging gazes with Zoro to silently check if everything was alright, before your lips were pressed together again. Your tongue ran against his bottom lip this time, actually snatching a gasp from him.

“Is it okay?” You whispered, furrowing your eyebrows a little. Just a few inches still serpared your faces, having you both feel each other’s out of pace breathing.

Zoro nodded. “I just wasn’t waiting for that.”

“Is it okay, though?” You grinned again, seeing him grow flustered once more.

“...Do it again.”

You did kiss Zoro and lick his bottom lip once again, but this time, he opened his lips and allowed you to slip your tongue past his lips. There was a little taste of sake still, already faint. He still didn’t know what to do, but the way you held onto his jaw did ground him a little so he would calm down.

“Good?” You whispered against his lips, lips still grazing him.

Zoro’s breath hitched as he tried to catch his breath, hazy eyes observing you from close. “Do... Do it again.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #fan fic #fan fiction #oneshot #imagine #zoro x reader #monkey d luffy #vinsmoke sanji #usopp #nico robin #nami #tony tony chopper #trafalgar law

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the-fandom-finder · 3 months ago

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It think my main problem with some Izzy fans is they straight up lie or have extreme cognitive dissonance for stuff. “Izzy is more popular than ed/stede” no you were just around people who like is he more than them? I promise you the average person fandom or not does not like him more than the main characters. Also, just because he’s popular in the fandom doesn’t mean he’s a better character. You how many fandom I’ve been where they sent her around the white male character more than any other character? So often it’s a dime a dozen. He talks about how crazy Ed is before we even meet the character and when we meet him, he’s just a little suicidal at very least at that point. honestly even if he did survive, it would not make sense for him to be the captain of the ship. It’s canon that he’s not good at running anything and only really good at violence. he’s an interesting character meant to represent toxic masculinity at least in season one and how breakable and fragile it is. Honestly, him and Zuko have a lot in common when it comes to fandoms. These characters are both flawed and I’ve done bad things, but for some reason, some fans wanna make them look perfect like they’ve done nothing wrong and excuse everything that comes with the cost of completely miss characterizing everyone else around them. Man called the British, which are basically the cop because he didn’t get what he wants and view himself as knowing Ed more than himself which is messed up, bro. and the story portrays this as bad like it should be. Also, why are all the tags that were created to criticize Izzy taking over by Izzy fans like you asked for a specific tag and then take it over and then get upset when people use it. I also have seen fans on Twitter called themselves Ofmd hater and then spend all their time talking about the show. It’s OK to move on. It is not the Izzy show and never was. I have to rewash the show to remember Izzy‘s and actually interesting character because his fans have changed him so much that I can’t stand him if I don’t watch the show. There is a reason why people were being rude against the phantom for some stupid reason reasons or only a small group of people they named them and that weird little list they had. Now I don’t think any of the Izzy fan should be attacked or doxxed because that’s just weird and wrong. That doesn’t mean you can’t criticize them and how weird they are about this white man. I think it’s time for some of you who just have so much hatred of everything else in the TV show. Make an OC That’s like 2 inches away from that character and leave you’ll be much happier. Another problem I have is how some people treat David he’s not a perfect man nor perfect writer, but to go out of your way to say you understand the story infinitely more than him is crazy. He is shown multiple times he loves the character. This is just how he wanted to take him in the story not out of malice,, not out of homophobia not of hatred for disabled people, but because that’s how his story was always going to end he just got to die slightly less full of hate and may be a little happy. Izzy and ed had no chance of ending up together. The story basically states that pretty early that it was one-sided and not entirely healthy on either side. Also celebrating the show knocking a third season and people losing their jobs even though you were probably going to see Izzy again in some form is crazy. I promise you your hate did nothing or brothers was just being a cheap ass and canceled other diverse shows so it definitely wasn’t because of you. Either way, I guess I win in the end. I still love the show and not full of anger at least about this. I got a lot of other problems lol. This post is probably way too long about something that doesn’t really matter too much but it feels good to get it out especially with finals coming around. If you read this entire thing and hate me well thanks for reading. I guess. Hope you have a nice day and I mean that genuinely life‘s kind of sucks right now for everyone lol.

#our flag means death #izzy critical #thanks to comment I want to reiterate I do like Izzy but he is a grown man not a wet cat and made a lot of really bad mistakes

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goosewriting · 6 months ago

Note

hi! saw that you are taking requests, can you do a cal kestis one where him and reader go to some nice planet after a mission and reader asks Cal to dance under the stars. then reader remarks about the planet or view being beautiful, and cal says something like "but you are more so" and then they both get shy for a bit and one of them confesses, ending with a sweet kiss?

thank you love your work sm ♥️

Constant

summary: after a mission, Cal and reader get separated from the rest and have a sweet moment together.

relationship: Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: none, fluff!

word count: 4k

A/N: it has been a while since i’ve written Cal and it shows omg i feel so rusty. also i may have gone a bit off topic with the intro/setting sdfsdf i really hope this works for you anon, thank you sm for requesting :D

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Despite the mission ending successfully, you got found by an angry squad of troopers, and in your escape, you got separated from the team. Cere and Greez made a hasty escape on the Mantis; Merrin disappeared from sight in a green cloud, so you knew she was hidden somewhere, and she’d be fine. You and Cal however had to run through the maze that was the village, hearing the many boots behind you. Luckily you encountered a ship with a hyperdrive, so while in your mind you apologised to the owners for “borrowing” their ship (they’re not getting it back), you made quick work of hijacking it, kickstarting the engines and making a swift exit into the atmosphere, then jumping into hyperspace.

It wasn’t usual for the crew to have to steal a transport, but when you did, all of you knew the drill: access the computer, scramble the signal, and send out an encrypted message to the Mantis so the others knew you were safe.

After you mentally tick off every item in the to-do list, you let yourself fall into the co-pilot seat with a sigh. Next to you, Cal checks the scanner one last time, and is about to punch in some coordinates into the navigation system, but his hand stops mid-air.

“So, where are we going exactly?” he asks.

“We need to lay low,” you think aloud and take the holopad out of your backpack, bringing up a galactic map of the region you’re currently in. You scroll back and forth for a minute, until you find a suitable goal. Stretching your arm over to Cal so he can see your screen, you point to the pin you just set. The little ship is decently shaken by the speed, so Cal gently places his hand over yours to stabilise the device to be able to read the tag. Even though you’re both wearing gloves, and physical contact isn’t exactly rare between the two of you, you can still feel the slight prickle of heat on your cheeks. You mentally curse at yourself for being this affected by such small gestures. Your thoughts are quickly interrupted however as Cal lets go of your hand, fully leaning back into the seat with a huff.

“Is there really no other choice?” he asks.

“All things considered, it’s a good one,” you offer. “We need to land to properly dismantle the transponder before the ship gets reported as stolen.”

“Right,” he sighs and punches in the coordinates. The computer shows a loading bar quickly reaching the end as it finishes calculating when to leave hyperspace. It’s actually in just a couple of minutes.

You lean back into the seat as well, placing the holopad on your lap. You turn your face to Cal with a silly grin.

“Besides, I hear they have wonderful weather this time of year.”

The Jedi doesn’t answer but you can hear his light huff as he playfully rolls his eyes. BD, sitting on the seat behind Cal’s, beeps amusedly as well.

You smile to yourself, your eyes lingering on Cal’s profile perhaps a second too long. He seems to feel you looking, and just as he turns his face to you, you quickly look the other way. Before you can give in to the embarrassment of having been caught staring, the computer signals it’s time to drop from hyperspace.

Cal’s focus goes back to the front, and he places his hand on the lever, pulling it down. Adjusting your position on your seat, you can’t help but crane your neck a little as the flurry of lights in front of you comes to a halt, replaced by the image of a green planet: Takodana. As you approach the surface, you take in the sights, the mountains, the lakes. Everything looks so… lush, and alive. It's a nice change of pace after the multitude of arid, dusty planets you seem to have been limited to lately. You swear you still have sand in your boots from a mission weeks ago.

Picking your holopad back up, you zoom into the map, giving Cal instructions on what route to take and what altitude to maintain. There’s a clearing in the forest that seems big enough to fit the ship, so you decide to land there. Once the engines are turned off, you three get to work: Cal walks out the short ramp to start working on the transponder to fry it, while BD stays in the cockpit to wipe the travel logs. You check the small cargo hold, opening all storage containers, looking for anything useful, be it rations, equipment or medical supplies.

After a while, you find that there are some tools and miscellaneous things that could be useful. Those you put in one of the bigger storage boxes and leave it near the door so it’s easy to reach; the rest you just put away again where it was. Giving yourself a nod of approval, you stand up and dust off your legs, as you’ve been kneeling on the metallic floor which apparently did not get mopped very often. You exit the ship, walking around to the other side, where you see that Cal has removed a panel from the outer hull to essentially start taking the ship apart to access the parts he needs. Several ship modules now lie freely on the soft grass, and Cal’s upper body is hidden from sight as he’s leaning far into the machinery. You hear him grunt and curse under his breath as he struggles with particularly stubborn bolt.

“Can I help?” you ask as you approach him.

He evidently did not hear nor feel you coming, as he was too focused, so your presence takes him by surprise. You see him flinch at being startled, his head hitting on something to which he flinches again, now from the sharp pain on his temple, and he crawls out completely, a hand shooting up to where you could see a reddening spot on his skin. You can’t help the little snort that escapes you at his antics, and he looks at you in mock offence that you are amused at his expense.

“You good?” you ask, taking a step closer towards him. Your hand instinctively reaches up to his face, gingerly brushing away his own so you can check for any injury.

“Yeah, just didn’t hear you…” he mumbles, not pulling away from you, and letting you inspect his face closely.

“I thought Jedis could feel someone’s presence,” you tease him, and only then do you realise how close your faces are. Cal doesn’t give you any snark back, instead he just holds your gaze. With a sudden strong gust of wind, the late afternoon sun manages to peer through the thick tree canopies, and you’re like hypnotised. The warm sunlight catches on his copper eyelashes, and you catch a glimpse of the specks of gold that swim in his ocean eyes. If they’re green or blue, you never quite settled on, as they seemed to change depending on the light. This is by far one of the more beautiful versions you’ve had the pleasure to see, though.

His eyes are just as focused on yours, and for a split second, they dart down a bit, then back up to hold your gaze again, and your breath hitches. Did he just–?

BD’s beeping breaks the spell, and you take a step back from him, clearing your throat.

“Yeah, no. Uhm, you might get a bruise but uh, other than that you’re fine,” you give him your diagnosis, fidgeting with your sleeve. “Sorry again for startling you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You stand there in silence for a second, rather awkwardly, when BD beeps again, a little more insistent this time.

“Huh? Yeah,” Cal turns to the droid. “I’m almost done here. You’re gonna fit into the opening far better than me though, mind giving me a hand?”

BD agrees, quickly hopping over to where the hull still stays open and exposed. As the two get back to work, you take out your holopad again, looking at the other pins you had marked on the map earlier.

“While you work on the transponder, I’m going into the ‘city’–” You use your free hand to gesture quotation marks in the air. “–to get us some food.”

“It won’t take long though,” Cal says, peeking back out from the ship. “If you wait for a bit we can go together.”

You tilt your head at him with an apologetic smile.

“No offence, but we’ve seen your face and name plastered on multiple wanted notices across several systems now,” you point out. Cal opens his mouth to retort something, but you don’t let him. “I’m still unknown, all in all. There’s going to be bounty hunters, mercenaries and who knows what else that might recognise you.”

Cal hesitates for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek, until he has to admit to himself that you’re right. Especially with a ship currently out of commission and as such unable to make another quick escape, you really want to make an effort to stay hidden until you can meet with the rest of the Mantis crew again. He sighs deeply, making it evident that he’s not really entirely on board.

“Just… be careful?” he pleads.

You pat the blaster on your thigh holster twice and give him a winner smile.

“When am I not?”

Before he can reply (and you’re sure he has a carefully curated list of shenanigans of yours spanning over several years), you turn on your heels to grab your things and head out into the forest. Using your holopad, you navigate through the thick vegetation. You take a little detour to check out the lake though, and find an overhang at the cliffs which is decently hidden, but has a wonderful view of the water and the mountains on the other side. You take in the sight for a few moments, then continue your trek to your goal, the Takodana castle. Also known as Maz’s castle, since it’s run by the so-called queen of the pirates, Maz Kanata. You’ve heard stories about her exploits, and while you don’t necessarily have any emotional attachment or feeling of belonging to pirates and certain groups of outlaws, you do appreciate what she’s done here, making a place for people to take a respite. As long as things are kept civil, anyone is welcome.

The clearing you chose to park the ship at was a really good decision; despite being quite far away from a castle, as it took you nearly an hour to get here, you notice that the closer you got, the more movement there is. And the less people know you’re here, the better. As you walk up to the entrance of the tavern in the central hall of the castle, you wish you had worn some sort of cloak or hooded cape. You’re pretty sure no one has any means to recognise you, but you can’t help feeling a little exposed.

Taking a focusing breath, you push the heavy entrance door open, and enter the space. Some faces turn to look at you, but most customers ignore you, keeping their focus on their conversations and games.

You beeline towards the bar, and the bartender gives you a hard once-over, raising a brow as you take a seat on a stool. You order food and drinks to go, placing some credits on the slightly greasy surface. He merely grunts in response, taking your payment and disappearing into the kitchen.

While you wait, you take a moment to look around. You see all sorts of people and creatures. Most of them seem relaxed, just trying to have a good time before they continue their journey to wherever they’re headed next. There’s some more… suspicious individuals in the darker corners of the establishment, hiding their faces under hats, masks or large hoods pulled down to their noses. You take mental note of a Nautolan to your left, who hasn’t let you out of her sights ever since you came in. She doesn’t look particularly suspicious, but the contrast of ther white outfit against the deep green skin caught your attention. From under the wide brim of her hat, her staring is starting to make you a little uneasy, but before you can glare back, a kitchen worker comes out from the back, handing you two bags of greasy food which to be quite honest, smells better than expected.

You thank them with a smile, stuffing everything into your backpack, then take your leave. It’s a shame you won’t make it back in time for Cal to have his food while it’s warm, but beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.

The trek back is uneventful, but you take a different route than the one from before, just in case. Every now and then you look over your shoulder, listening carefully to check if anyone is following you. But other than your somewhat laboured breathing, the buzzing of insects and a raspy bird call somewhere above you, you hear nothing.

By the time you’re back at the ship, the sun is starting to set, and you find that Cal has set up a makeshift camping site next to the now reassembled ship, consisting of a tarp hanging from one of the wings and held down on the ground by carefully laid out rocks of appropriate size and weight. It creates a canopy of sorts, under which the Jedi is sitting on one of the storage boxes you left within reach behind the cockpit. Two more boxes serve as improvised seating around a lantern set to a dim, warm light that projects Cal’s shadow onto the greenish-beige tarp.

This time, he feels your presence before he sees you, so even though you approach without making a sound, his head is already turned in your direction by the time you see him. You meet his gaze and greet him with a smile. Making your way to where he’s sitting, you set your backpack on the ground, kneeling down to get everything out.

“Room service has arrived,” you announce, handing him the now cold food. “Wish we had a microwave though.”

He chuckles, taking his portion from your hands, opening the packaging rather eagerly.

“Lighting a fire would also work, but that would make the whole ‘stay hidden’ thing redundant.”

“Yeah,” you sigh as you sit down across from him. “Oh well. Let’s dig in.”

“You could have had your food while it was hot though,” he remarks and takes a bite. He hums in pleasant surprise; it’s not too shabby.

“I could have,” you respond, inspecting the food in your hands, looking for the best angle to bite into. “But I wanted to eat with you.”

He just looks at you for a moment while he chews.

“Why?” he asks after he swallows.

“Because it gives me a sense of–” domesticity, is what you want to say, but you stop yourself just in time, trying to find an alternate answer while willing the heat creeping onto your cheeks to go away. “A sense of normalcy. Across species, planets and time, sharing meals with your loved ones has always been a constant.”

You hope he doesn’t take the “loved ones” too literally. Then again, there’s no denying that you do feel rather strongly towards him.

“And given what we do,” you continue. “I appreciate little moments like these even more, I suppose.”

Cal gives you a look that you can’t quite read, so to stop yourself from saying anything else, you take a big bite of your food, your gaze falling to the ground. He seems to be thinking over your words, his eyes drifting to the side.

“I do too, by the way,” he says after a few moments of silence.

“Hm?”

“Appreciate these moments, I mean,” he clarifies. “Up until now, I never found the words to describe it, but the way you put it, that’s exactly it. The crew, you and the guys. Despite everything that’s going on right now, you’re my constant as well. And the little moments of normalcy we get, as you said, I cling onto them too.”

You shoot him a genuine smile. It warms your heart to know he feels the same about the little patchwork family you find yourself in. People you trust your life with, and people you can’t imagine a life without. Especially without Cal.

You both continue eating in silence, surrounded by nothing but the gentle breeze blowing against the tarp, swaying it slightly, and the sounds of the forest.

“Did you contact Cere yet?” you ask after a while, remembering that you aren’t here on vacation, but you actually have to properly regroup with your crew soon.

“I did. And yes; I used the encryption you showed me,” he adds with a chuckle before you can ask. “They’re currently waiting for an opening to pick up Merrin, and after that they’re headed here.”

“Any idea on how long that might take?”

He hums to signal he’s unsure, while crumpling up the foil wrapper now that he’s done eating and throwing it into a trash bag.

“Not sure, could be anything between a couple of hours and a rotation. Two at most, I think.”

“Huh.” You tilt your head at his response, and realise that for a relatively short but still undetermined amount of time, you’ll be stuck here. Alone. With Cal. Your heart quickens ever so slightly, and you clear your throat as you also throw away the waste.

Standing up, you clasp your hands together with a clap.

“Let’s make the most of it then, shall we? C’mon,” you gesture for him to follow you.

“Where are we going?” he asks, giving you a suspicious look, but he can’t stop the boyish smile spreading on his face either way.

“Just follow me.”

You bend down to turn off the lantern, and in an instant you’re both surrounded by darkness. It takes a couple of seconds for your eyes to get used to it, and in a sudden moment of confidence, you take his hand in yours. He doesn’t say anything nor does he pull back, letting you guide him through the forest to that one spot at the cliff you had found earlier.

“I hope you know where you’re going,” he says with a chuckle.

“Oh please, when have my orientation skills ever let us down.”

“Well,” he starts.” There was that one time on Kashyyyk. And in the Zeffo underground. Oh and let’s not forget about–”

“Alright, alright. I get it,” you laugh. He still hasn’t let go of your hand, so you use your free one to push away a branch to pass through a thick bush. “But trust me this time, you’ll like it.”

“I trust you,” he replies, so truthfully and genuinely, without a second of hesitation nor a drop of sass. It almost makes you stop in your tracks, but you continue walking, and you wonder if he can feel the way your heart is beating against your ribcage through the Force.

Just a moment later, you arrive at your goal. Letting go of his hand, you turn to face him, stretching your arms out to the sides.

“Ta-da,” you announce in a sing-song voice. “I think it’s better in the daylight when you can see the landscape, but–”

“Look,” he interrupts, grabbing you by the shoulders and turning you back around to face the open space in front of you. “It’s not bad at all like this either.”

You can’t help the light gasp escaping your lips at the sight: there’s a short trail of lights along the shore on the other side of the lake, their reflections dancing in the water, but the rest of the forest is dark, allowing the starred sky to fully shine. There are no clouds obscuring the view, and the moons hang low in the sky, covering everything in a silvery hue. The stars seem to sparkle up above, and your eyes are mesmerised by them.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

Cal hums in response, and your heart almost jumps out of your chest both in surprise and anticipation at how close he is to you. Standing behind you, Cal essentially speaks into your ear and it sends a tingle down your spine.

“But you are more so.”

Your brain all but short circuits at those words, and you react only when you feel him gently turning you around to face him. Your hands shoot up to his biceps while he hesitantly places his on your waist. Is this really happening?

You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. you're once again completely lost in Cal’s eyes, now reflecting the map of stars in them, the usual blue turned a dark petrol in such little light, deep and rich and threatening to drown you. A threat you’ll gladly accept as a promise.

“I, uh,” Cal swallows hard, trying to gauge your reaction in the dark. “I hope I'm not crossing a line here.”

“You are,” you reply, and for a split second you can see the panic wash over his face. “But I want you to.”

“Okay,” he says with a shaky breath, one hand coming up to gently stroke over your jaw with his knuckles. He looks away with a light scoff at himself. “I don’t actually know where to go from here.”

Your hands slowly inch upwards until you're holding Cal’s face, and he leans into the touch, momentarily closing his eyes, relishing the moment.

“Wherever it is, let’s go together,” you say, and he smiles at you, which you mirror.

He starts swaying you softly from side to side, and you chuckle, but follow his movements. For a few moments, you two dance under the stars to the symphony of the forest.

“I was so worried earlier today when you left alone,” he admits after a while, coming to a stop. “Not because I don’t think you can’t take care of yourself – I know how capable you are first hand. But the thought of something happening to you… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I feel the same, Cal. You’re so important to me. In this mess of a galaxy, you are my constant.”

Instead of replying, he finally closes the already small gap separating you, and captures your lips with his in a short but sweet peck. He pulls back just barely to tilt his head to the side slightly, kissing you again, his arms now properly snaking around your lower back to pull you closer.

After breaking the kiss, you pepper some more all across his face wherever you can reach, just for good measure, ending with one to the tip of his nose, exaggerating the ‘mwah!’ sound. His chuckle is more akin to a giggle, and the sound is heavenly. He leans in again, this time to touch his forehead to yours.

For a moment longer, you just stand there in each other’s embrace, breathing in one another. Then Cal breaks the silence.

“We should do this more often.”

You pull back to look at him.

“Which part?”

“Spending time together, just the two of us,” he says, holding both your hands in his as he sits down and pulls you down with him, and you lean your head on his shoulder.

"Hmm, I agree."

“Let’s message the Mantis again and tell them to take their time.”

You laugh, playfully pushing your body into his, and he laughs as well.

And as you both look at the stars, you know in your heart that things will be okay. Everything will work out just fine. The Empire, Jedis, inquisitors. Right now, nothing of that matters. All you need is here beside you, and as long as you have Cal, you know you can take on whatever the universe has in tow for you next.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!]

@DyByNyght, @galaxtic-writings, @kalea-bane, @soka-writes-things, @Padawancat97, @Riddikulus-Obsessions, @optimisticprime3, @starilicious, @ivelostmyabilitytoeven, @alternatescififandomelover, @lovelyygirl8, @Cathyket, @wildefire

#please don’t come at me for using a planet from the sequels #it’s a pretty planet ok!!#goose feathers #cal kestis x reader #star wars cal x reader #jedi fallen order x reader #jedi survivor x reader #star wars x reader

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uyuartik · 9 months ago

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bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader) part iii

tags: angst, fluff, arguments, period typical misogyny (of course not from obi wan), just overall wealthy pricks being little shits, the trope of THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, but not really, do you believe in second chances (i don't) (💀), little smut compared to the rest because originally there was no smut in this (but i HAD TO use that idea), REPOST because i fucked up in the first place

a/n: welcome back for the finale!

well, i can't think of anything to say except this has been a blast for me, and i'm so happy that there are those who enjoys this madness as much as i do. hope you like the ending too. thank you all!

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can’t wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

part one | part two | part three | ao3

enjoy!!!

word count: 8.3K

chapter three: fuck it it's fine!

You don’t board that ship. A slight sickness you excuse, then spend your days sulking at home, still covered by the expanse of your lies. It is not totally untrue, though. You did really wake up with a swollen throat, and that put the integrity of your health during the journey at risk, thus with great grief, canceled the plans. Nobody knew that you’d not even mention the symptom on any other day, just requesting some honey tea and hardly noticing it disappear in the morrow. And it exactly worked out as predicted, more so, without leaving its discomfort for remorse. But after that, the hours stretched out each day, like you were living in a different plane where you were not welcomed. Perhaps you actually weren’t, for if you followed your fate, you’d be eating different foods, and walking foreign corridors. In an attempt to run away from that feeling, you try to socialize just a little, attending even the most dull tea parties. Also, your preference of company has to be specialized now, and that proves difficult sometimes.

So, that’s exactly why you indeed sulk at home, even though all your efforts.

But not tonight.

Then again, perhaps you should've.

His presence has nothing to do with it, to be perfectly clear. On the contrary, he makes it a little endurable. The forced small talk and empty eyes you once feared dearly are not the case, even after your last encounter. Of course, there's a little awkwardness, an uncertainty about where the line of intimacy now stands, shadows of anger and disappointment still darkening the atmosphere, but the overall sensation comes down to longing. You both lost a great friendship, cast it aside in a blink, but your souls don't accept this new arrangement that quickly, trying to fall into the familiar rhythm once more each time you feel your walls break. You don't allow it, neither does he. Yet, it is about the only thing that turns this night into a not complete waste of time. Even a pleasant one, you'd dare say.

If it weren't for literally everything else except this.

The hushed little uninformed jokes start during the dinner. It is the lord of the house that says them, to his close circle, barely hanging onto etiquette he had glimpses of. As minutes tick and glasses of wine roll, that glimpse is gone, and even in your seat at the end of the table, you hear him clearly. The pressed lips and masked mimics pretending not to be aware of it soon become apparent on every face, excluding you and Lord Kenobi. You glower the first time another of the guests feels confident enough to make his dirty contribution to the subject. Typical, you try to stay calm, tapping your fingers on the table. The world is filled with the likes of him, and the last thing they deserve is your attention. The reflex doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and he sends a sympathetic smile, showing that you’re not alone and accepting this invitation was a most regretful choice. He uses a few retorts to close the deal, let the dinner continue in different matters- or in silence, that would be fantastic indeed, but his smart wit and slight intimidation work only for a couple of minutes. Now it’s your turn to reflect that sad smile, and you do.

The sadness doesn’t come from the circumstances around you all, though. Your heart feels heavy, for not trying better ways to handle that morning. That guilt will haunt you, drag you into the gloomy pit you’ve been in, and maybe, you should stay there for some time, a penance for your mistakes.

After dinner, when the ladies and gentlemen huddle around different interests, you get a chance to cool off. The soft peals of laughter and giggles fill the room, a much more pleasant sound than the roar of men. You get to entertain others with your stories of other cities you’ve been to, and they tell their interesting incidents, and make fun of their husbands, people who deserve, as their commotion spills out of the walls. The topic of their conversation, marriage, diffuses out into your circle in such a way, that once again, you’re restraining yourself, trying to listen to the problems one of the ladies is complaining of, and not to hear the crude comments going on on the other side. You’re stopped from rushing out of your armchair simply out of respect you have for the woman speaking when you pick up your name passing in their remarks. Plus, Kenobi’s words, you don’t flatter me by offending the lady, reach every ear in the room, sharper than a knife. Your cheeks burn with anger, then with gratitude, and at last, out of embarrassment, because how are you going to explain he’s just doing an honorable thing, that it’s his character to defy ill minds when he sees one, and this has little to do with his “pursuit” of you? Your breaths are shallow and quick as you focus on the discourse, and dodge every attempt to pull the subject towards your relations.

Though, the snake doesn’t give up on eating, even his own tail, it seems.

In less than half an hour, a joke about abduction is whispered, and you surge from your armchair, the screeching sound echoing. You murmur what resembles to be an excuse (you’re still deciding whether they are worthy of one), and send one glaring gaze at the group, enough to make one flinch, and walk out.

Out of the entire house.

Lucky for you, this is a night in which you carpooled with another guest, meaning you only have your own feet to carry you away in this pouring rain.

But of course, that’s not enough to deter you.

You take big steps, enforced by your fury. Thus, the house leaves your sight in no time, but not their audacity, still ringing in your ears. Implications about your freedom. Complaints of wive-hood. Humor about how perfectly reasonable is to get rich, by kidnapping a young woman… (Honestly, after all that, you don’t have mercy for them of the panic they might experience when they realize their guest is not refreshing in another room, and have left the estate altogether. Alas, that guest is you.) You string curses at them, the only form of thinking you have in regard, and feel the bulk of emotions resonate with every stomp, even spilling out of your tear ducts. Your dampening body, and the length of the road don’t make it any easier, feeding your frustration. Your only anchor is your self worth, the reason you began this path in the first place, and you desperately hope it will turn the tide in a while.

Though now, the picture you paint with those foul words and wet clothes isn’t exactly the brightest.

It is still among these moods, that Obi Wan catches up to you. You’re not exactly surprised to see him, his carriage closing the twenty minute distance you put between yourself and that damned house with a speed that you think can’t be that good for the horses in the long run. They stop abruptly at your side, and you have all those insults readied if it turns out to be that fucked up man or polite declines if it is indeed Obi Wan.

But, you can’t speak them. The world feels like it freezes, the raindrops slowing down, and carrying away your burdens as they fall to the soil. The small door opens, and Obi Wan rushes out of it, with an expression that is so honest and raw. His fright vanishes at the sight of you, that scared gaze dissolving, eyebrows relaxing… You can actually see his lips move, Thank God. He is totally undisturbed by the downpour, already making his strands stick to his forehead. His hands find yours, and pull you close, almost like an embrace. You look into his eyes, how focused they are on you, as if they could burn you from the inside with their intensity. You have an undeniable urge to kiss him right now, and that has nothing to do with lust, but your wish to undo the last couple of weeks, uphold that strong connection once the two you had. Of course, you don’t, you can’t, thus, you let him lead you inside, and continue towards whatever destination.

Funny, how you feel much calmer doing the thing you thought you wouldn’t. Moreso, you have no woes about it either.

The silence is deafening, but nobody dares to open their mouth, the greatness of the storm of emotions you both are having too heavy on your tongues. He puts his less soggy jacket around your shoulders, you welcome it with a nod. That’s the moment you realize the redness on his knuckles. It’s not hard to guess the scene, and that has your head turned to the floor, processing the entire night. It is also at this moment that you become aware of your fresh tears, still sliding over your cheeks. Even if he notices them, he doesn’t do a thing about it, an indifference you’re grateful for. He just looks out of the window, and contemplates, same as you.

===

The tub filled with hot water doesn’t make you any wetter, but it helps with the temperature. You’re sorry that you exhausted the owners of the inn you had to stay in, (for it was getting impossible to travel in that rain) with this request, but a voice tells you that Obi Wan wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re unbelievably silent as he sorts it all out, staying in your bubble, unintentionally playing the part of the damsel in distress. You listen to his list of requests, for the horses, for three rooms (the best reserved for the lady, he insists), a tub to be prepared for you, and some tea-

“No need.” Your voice is weak, but it is clear. He would’ve protested this answer, but it is the first time you’ve talked after leaving the house, how ironic, and the realization sets deep in both of you. After that, you feel the words pile up on your tongue, but in a blink, you find yourself in a room. Alone.

“So sorry, I thought they gave me this room.” He stands at the door, holding it half open, face turned in the opposite direction.

“Obi Wan.” His gaze hesitantly finds your way again. God, he’s about to kill you with that blues… “Can we talk for a second?”

You name yourself a hypocrite for asking that, in this state, but you can’t breathe with all that untold things if you spend another second without explaining yourself to him, and apologize for all the trouble you’ve caused. And, isn’t this already proof of the trust you have for him, how vulnerable you can be in his presence?

And, there’s nothing he’s not seen before, after all.

He gingerly closes the door, locking it in a swift motion, and makes his way to you. You pull yourself together, and reach for his hand for him to help you out.

“No, stay. Your fingers are still cold.”

You can’t hide the small smile forming on your face as you settle back, careful to keep most of your body underwater. He, ever noble, keeps his eyes straight on your face, which somehow doesn’t help. There’s something about his rolled-up sleeves, the matching three-piece suit down to two for the damp jacket sits behind the chair in your back against the fireplace. His hair is drying up in all defiant shapes, and you have to stop imagining that morning he woke up next to you.

“I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. I- I never intended to cause this big of a mess, and make someone clean up after me. Certainly, not you, of all people. You shouldn’t have tired yourself this much, and I’m sorry for it.”

“You can’t expect me to do nothing.” The sentence begs for a dear to be added in the end, and he has to fight his throat to silence himself. Instead, there’s a kind tug at the corners of his lips.

“You’re right.” You nod. “But the truth is, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I needed to get out, I just couldn’t sit there pretend I didn’t hear all those nasty comments.”

His fist clenches at the reminder, and you once again spot the bruises settling in on his knuckles, filling with the desire to mention them, but you inevitably decide not to. “That asshole-“

”He was obnoxious since the first hour, and loud, but that doesn't scare me, for thus he has proven himself to be just a foul mouthed man. But, that title started not to cover the extent of it- it was too much and I couldn’t take it anymore. You may say it was obvious from the start, but I tried my best to not evolve this into a thing I would regret afterward. And I succeeded.”

“So you don't even regret ever setting foot in that house?”

A tinge of disgust seizes your face, but only for a moment. Even with all those words echoing in your ear, you don't have hatred in your heart, or any remorse. You're not so quite sure about its reason, nor do you wish to be, avoiding all analysis. Like you don't know the basics already. But the sudden change in your expression tells everything. “I don’t think I can ever regret it. At least, not in its entirety.” You say, hugging your knees and lowering your head. Hot steam no longer hits your skin, you realize in your attempts of distraction.

There's a second of silence in the room, despite the thunderstorm raging outside. You are as cold as in the beginning because of it, and you almost contemplate how good of an idea this conversation was, especially under these circumstances.

“I’d say the same.” Obi Wan speaks, and that's when goosebumps rise on your skin. Your eyes meet his, then flutter away quickly, overwhelmed. Does he mean-

Why is him meaning that any different than yours, huh? Why is it any worse when he says it?

“You should get out of there.” He reaches for a towel, and you shyly stand up, turning your back and pressing your arms around yourself. Nothing he hasn't seen before, right? As the coarse fabric is draped around your shoulders, you can’t help but feel afire, the imprint of his hand around your shoulders for a second lingering way more than it should, creating a tingling sensation.

“Thank you.”

“Well, I must return to my room now.” He folds his hands together, like trying to preserve where they’ve touched, and his eyes still stay respectfully up, causing your heart to lose its rhythm. There has never been a scenario that involved nakedness without… sexual intentions, and clearly, it’s not even crossing your minds right now. Your awareness of it takes up all the space in your mind, tosses every other idea out, and leaves you at the mercy of your soul.

“Obi Wan.” Fuck, the way you call his name, it is bound to weaken him every time. “Can you-” Oh, haven't you demanded enough from him? “I- I would like it if you stayed.”

His mouth hangs open for a second, with a subtle sharp inhale. His fingers tighten around each other, then relax all together, hanging free by his side. “Of course.” For all the words that come to his lips, it’s a most simple answer.

Not that you have any complaints.

You’re filled with another kind of thrill, being this open with your wishes, but having no clue whether they’ll take the night, having no clue where you want the night to go, or how to act in this very moment, half covered. You just know that you prefer him, being in the same chamber as you. You’d prefer to listen to his idle talk or slow breaths, than the silence of the room. You’d prefer him to snore in your bed than to picture him in his own, lying awake. (Because let’s face it, it’d take a while for him to surrender to sleep, if left to his own devices.)

He takes a step towards the armchair, unbuttoning his vest and you come back to your senses, stepping out of the tub in the opposite direction, towards the nightgown the innkeeper gracefully lent to you. It’s slightly large for your body, definitely not tailored for someone close to your size, but if Obi Wan ever heard you commenting on the fact, he’d wholeheartedly claim you still looked like an angel. Since you don’t, he doesn’t too, but it’s obvious in the way he takes in your form, a battle of excess fabric against your movements. He has to bury a groan when your sleeve falls down your shoulder, a simple accident. He knows that shouldn’t have been seen by him, or you didn’t do it on purpose, that tonight is not meant for those activities, and it shouldn’t get him so bothered up, but it fucking does. Does it also make him want to slap himself? Yes.

Walking near the fireplace, you wring the excess water from your hair and run your fingers through the strands before rubbing that towel aggressively, for the fact that it is already soggy enough, and is not gonna do much. You despise sleeping with wet hair, it is an invitation for you to get sick, not to mention that you’ll be sharing the bed, leaving frustrating streaks of wetness on the sheets for them.

“Hey, hey, let me help you.” Is he a little bit scared? The answer is another yes. But he’s not gonna stand there and watch you fight with your hair. He takes the fabric, locating the most usable spots, and slowly massages your strands with them. Objectively, it’s not a lot different in terms of overall results, but it does more than that anyway. Despite the forbidden intimacy, despite the question of “How is he so good at it?”, you’re lulled by the constant movements, the tension in your muscles easing off. He keeps you by the fire longer than you would’ve stayed, and that achievement belongs solely to him. Frankly, he too is not sure how long the two of you could stand like that, or put an end to it. All that matters is that your hair is pleasantly damp, less bothersome, and he did that.

To be honest, with each minute he is in your presence; the task of holding onto his manners, respecting his broken heart, and following your lead is getting harder to manage.

“Thank you.” You murmur, eyelids barely held open, and he feels like a juggler, suddenly losing his sense of balance, and dropping one of his props.

“You’re welcome.” Perhaps he was the one to thank, for the pleasure. That’s the second prop, falling down.

Still, it’s obvious how that sentence misses a darling thrown out after it.

You climb the bed, and he follows suit. You both favor the edges of the mattress, and there’s a ridiculous distance between both of your bodies, but you’re both too timid to use it, even at the risk of tumbling down.

Only after the urge to find a better position kicks in that you move, and end up just a little closer, face turned to his side.

He’s already turned to you, eyes closed but definitely not trying to sleep, or relax if nothing. He opens them of course, after you rustled the sheets that hard.

“What if I get sick tomorrow?” Admittedly, that’s a silly question, but the scenario occupies your mind. All the elemental factors are present, and you only have a formal dress on your back. Also, the fact that it would be all your fault, yet you are the one to complain? You hate yourself for saying it out loud.

“Then we would stay ‘til you got better.” His point-of-fact words, softened with his bedtime voice, must be annoying. Must be. It is not. It is the raw truth, straight from his core. You won’t disrespect it, (again). “I would take care of you.”

(Doesn’t he, always?)

A shiver runs down your spine.

(He’d name this place heaven, if it allowed you two to stay together a little longer.)

“Obi Wan.” Whispering, trying your best to break that ugly silence, not to crush under the weight of his words, but more importantly to let him know your truths, the alignment of your soul. “I- I never told you how much I appreciated you. Now just today, but especially today.”

He’s trying so hard not to sound rude, or leave you unanswered, but none of them are good enough. Thankfully, you are not expecting one. Your fingers ghost over his knuckles, afraid to hurt him. he’s not even sure you’re doing that, ‘til you hunch over, and press a small kiss over them.

That’s all the acknowledgment he needs, ever. It wasn’t becoming of a gentleman, obviously, but the situation didn’t require gentleman-cy, too. He has no recollection of how his fist ended up in that man’s eye, except for the exact second it happened, feeling his shirt slide from his other hand as the impact sizzled through his bones, and sent the man to the floor. He found himself in the middle of saying God knows what- he still doesn’t have a single clue, and thinks about the possibility of how they’ll resonate, ‘til it reaches his ears once again.

Though, he has no fear regarding that, or the altercation before it. Nor regret.

“I am honored that our names are spoken together, a testament of our likeness.”

The third prop.

It falls, most obviously, but he doesn’t show it. Not under these circumstances. No matter how you try to avoid the subject of love, or a future, he’s burning for it, burning for you. In that moment, it is settled that it’ll always be that way, forever. You’re absolutely crushing his heart, and maybe even crush yours in the process (for which reasons, he’s never sure), regardless of your intentions pointing otherwise, because he knows you’re pushing through your struggles to speak up, select the appropriate expressions, to honor your past. He’s touched by your effort, as well as your words, oh, your words… This is the only compliment he’ll ever accept, and it’s not even meant to be a compliment. Your voice is already etched into his brain, and there will not go a single day he’s not reminiscing about it.

Thus, with such strong emotions, his every muscle twitched with the desire to pull you closer, wrap his arm around your waist, card his fingers through your cool hair as your lips meet. He wants to kiss you slowly, savor your taste and caress your tongue with his, for the sole purpose of being close to you. You, throwing one leg over him… You, falling asleep in his arms as he gets to bathe in your enchanting scent… The feeling of your warm breath against his neck as you take refuge in there… He’s surprised he doesn’t have to chain himself not to act on any of these images.

(Oh, it very much feels like he has done that anyway)

Yet, it is probably the worst night to do so. It has all been too much, and all this on top of that is a recipe for disaster. A disaster he’s been struck with nonetheless, though, perhaps he can spare you from.

When it comes to you, he has always put his heart before his mind, (but never disregarding the latter part. It is the essential element to keep both of you safe, to never compromise your social statuses, to create the optimum atmosphere for your relationship to flourish (by your own unusual standards)). For the first time, he’s not following that code. Even he can’t imagine the consequences if he doesn’t.

You’re glad that nothing has changed. No response from him, no action. His relaxed expression tells you enough; the calmness of his eyes, his slow breaths and the slight curve of his lips… To be honest, you’re relieved to see your words reach their destination but also set with the urge to prove them. To press down your mouth on his, from which you hope for an answer; to hold his hand without causing any discomfort, or simply hug him for a second, eliminating all space between your bodies like your souls.

Alas, the role of the hypocrite is a part you no longer wish to play, and you’re perfectly willing to hurt yourself by not succumbing to your wishes, and refrain him from further confusion.

“Good night, Obi Wan.” You say, fingers grazing over his for the last time, and curl yourself into a ball.

“Good night, my dearest.”

===

The morning is unlike the previous example.

You wake up to him getting up, so there’s no way for you to know if your bodies drifted closer during the night, but considering the position of your arm, extended way beyond the middle, it is quite possible to assume some physical contact was present.

Considering you two are not facing each other, thus acknowledgment of the situation is not a matter, your embarrassment is half of what it should be.

Though, your cheeks burn brighter each second you can’t peel your eyes off of him, filling up the rest of that cup. Watching him walk around, the movement of each chiseled muscle on his back as he puts his shirt and trousers on quickly highlights another impropriety. He is perfection, even in that drowsy state of the human condition, there’s harmony to his every motion, the slow steps he takes, the way the fabric glides against his skin, the subtle fine arrangements of his fingers to make sure it looks decent, even how he breathes causes him to blend into the room, but also bedazzle it in his grace, make him stand out like a crown jewel, a masterpiece of arts that name the place.

You can only stop your ogling once he leans in and stirs the flames, which were already going strong since they were last fed before you went to sleep- wait, that doesn’t seem possible, did he actually sever his sleep to tend to it?

Is there any other explanation you need?

Your heart may flutter out of your chest after this realization, so you skirt out of the blankets. Of course, the sound draws his attention, and you’re caught, forced to react.

Yet, the unstoppable smile forming on his lips inspires a similar response on yours so easily, so naturally that you don’t feel obligated at all. On the quite contrary, that simple mimic banishes any pretense, showering you with reassurance and bravery, the motivation to act on your own true terms, not society’s or the ones you pressured onto yourself.

“Good morning.” The simultaneous greeting pulls a giggle from both of you, and it is all so small, yet so much. You sway away from his direction, casually reaching for your clothes, hoping he doesn’t notice the tremor of your legs when you shed the nightwear and put the chemise on. Because you know, he’s watching you. Divine justice, perhaps.

“Be careful, Obi Wan, I might start to think you enjoy watching me get dressed too much.” The snarky comment, fighting its way out of your mouth further softens the atmosphere, and it is like the first days of spring after a harsh winter, soothing your souls with relief.

“Guilty as charged.”

You shake your head, consumed by his usual forward banter. A scene taken straight out of your past. You shimmy into your dress instead of coming up with a cleverer response.

“You don’t sound sick.” He says, indicating that he’s been paying attention.

Biting your lip, you turn away. “Actually…”

“Is there something wrong?” He ends up right beside you in a blink, as if the world changed by your unfinished sentence.

Your heart picks up a different rhythm, hands raised in position to tie your ribbon but frozen. “It’s nothing, my throat just feels-”

“Do you want me to call a doctor?”

That was the exact reason why you started with it’s nothing. Alas… “No, it’s probably just my overthinking and coming up with strange sensations.” And if not, it depends on how well you spend tonight, so there’s not much room for intervention. Definitely not in medical terms.

“Pity.” His comment makes you scoff. After that, you can’t reward him with your concerns, can you? It is funny, ugh.

“Let me help.”

Your heart can’t get any rest as the tension simply changes garbs, his fingers trailing over yours and leading a 180° turn, leaving a blazing line along your skin, to tie the ends of your ribbon together. Your arms tentatively fall to your sides, not sure what to do with their freedom. His breaths lick your neck while he attentively, slowly smooths his creation, and you’d probably freak out if you weren’t so focused on the sheer range of his skills.

(Also the mystery of how he comes to acquire it, but it’s only the deep, dark parts of your mind speaking. Moreover, you do not pride yourself in a position to be jealous. You absolutely are, on that tiny level, and no, you’ll never admit it.)

Though, you’re not gonna comment on that, not when your heart threatens to fly out of its cage. The sacredness of the action brings back the echoes of your concerns, not a single one strong enough to overtake you, but the cacophony of them loud enough to occupy the entirety of your capacity.

All that talk of past times… Coupled with a little hesitancy, and how the tables turn…

“T- thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Like he just didn’t flip the dynamic, he carries on with his outfit, tying his cravat. His beautiful hands work expertly, effortlessly, and the result is perfect, even without a mirror, eyes on you the entire time.

“Is it looking fine?”

“Yes.” You meekly answer. It is decent, like he always is. Somehow witnessing that feels as sensual as the previous scene, pulling you further down the whirlpool.

Embarrassed enough already, you busy yourself with your hair, accepting the mess that it is, and decide on a simple bun, as much as possible. The practiced moves bring you some sense of calmness and control, even if the result isn’t perfect. The silence helps too, along with his occupancy of tidying up the room.

“Do you want to have some breakfast?” He asks. God, how does he still sound that cheery?

“No, thank you.” You don’t want to keep your father worrying any longer, and it’s not like you’re going to faint. The memory of your last food in the most unpleasant company is still strong enough to expel any thought of hunger.

That answer may be the clearest thought you’ve ever had this morning, yet it is the one that whispers doubt into his heart. You are silent, turned away from him, and far too engrossed in whatever unnecessary thing you’re doing. Because now, he fears that if the two of you leave this room, this building, all your lives in it will be a part of the history, never to be repeated or worse, mentioned again, lost in the torn pages. The joke about residing here for however long- seems awfully bitter, perfectly demonstrating he’d rather hold on to the possibility than put an end to this.

How could that be love?

Perhaps you were right, accusing him of madness.

That’s the only reason he walks out of the room to prepare the carriages, instead of cocooning the both of you in.

===

“Father!” You wrap your arms around him, who’s standing by the main entrance to your estate, waiting anxiously. He does the same, unaffected by the eyes that watch, the staff, and a mere acquaintance, Lord Kenobi.

Now Obi Wan knows who you got your bravery from.

He stands quietly, hands folded in front of him, not sure what to do but damn sure not to leave. He had plenty of time to think about his madness on the road, and decided it was not anything pathological- it was pure love and desperation for you. Isn’t that the nature of most of your meet-ups? Consoling each other in the positively dreadful situations, and utilizing everything to spend a second more together?

He hears you reassuring him of your well-being, and summarize the thing in pretty understated phrases. Even that makes him stutter over his words in a fit of rage. Obi Wan agrees. You distract him by speaking of the help you’ve gotten from a valiant friend, and that’s how he enters the conversation.

“Good morning, Sir.”

How he keeps it all cool, sharing and shaping his anger, silencing any doubt that may arise in him is a surprise, though he’s called a great negotiator for a reason, right? His work in various cases in court has earned him the title. He’s not overtly a fan of flaunting it. Though, it helps him a great deal in this instance.

At least, enough to have a pleasant exchange in these unpleasant circumstances, and secure permission to talk to you again.

Alone.

It is weird enough as it is already, you and him spending the night at some inn, him casually chatting with your father like his clothes haven’t benefitted from the merits of ironing, not to mention his hair being on the wild side after a slight treatment of rain, and now he is requesting your attention? Not only yours, but your father’s too in extent?

His plans have never been so crystal clear.

“No.” You declare your objection so clearly, in one word as the door closes behind him, giving you the privacy of the room. “No, no, no, no.”

“I haven’t even opened my mouth!” He objects, though it is more of a principal thing, than an actual defense. He knows you’ve worked it all out already. God, could he expect anything less from you? Your watery eyes and trembling hands break his heart into a million pieces, reactions so strong even before he has a chance to utter their cause. He caresses his beard, reevaluating if he should continue-

He can’t live with the consequences if he dares not. He can’t live with what-ifs, or not knowing the reason why you are so repulsed by the idea or would you still feel the same, if he told you about his love for you. Of course, that would require some magic, considering the magnitude and intricacy of it. How is he supposed to put the purest feelings he’s ever had to mere words, the origin of the butterflies caged up in his chest, the wires of his brain getting tangled up whenever you’re not around, and the constant intoxication from the strongest liquor he’s ever consumed? He’d rather die than sober up, and a part of him already recognizes that it’s not a possibility. It is his poison and antidote. There’s not a moment that passes without either of them.

And surely, he has no complaints about it. Never will. It is a brave choice, but what’s braver is this moment.

“No.” You repeat, hands clasped together to stop them from shaking. Your voice is low albeit steady, as much as it can be.

Because you do not lift your eyes to meet him. “You can’t propose to me, because I can’t refuse it. But I will. Then the whole country will wonder what is so wrong with you, and me, and they will talk about it all the time, for years to come. The whispers will be the first thing that you hear in every room you enter, and you’ll see the mischievous glint in the eyes of every person you meet, them scrutinizing whether those rumors are true. Our reputations will be tarnished forever, and we will hate each other for it.” And you can’t stand that.

You don’t sound like this is the first time you’re putting these words together. In all your distressed state, you sound awfully logical in your own way, so focused on one improbable, insane possibility (damn those reputations, he can never hate you), but devising every little detail.

“Why?” He basically hollers, running a hand through his hair. Why does that potential is the one you envision? “Why can’t you marry me?”

One can only dream that someone outside isn’t listening.

“Because- I don’t know!” You take a desperate step closer, showing him your honesty. You truly can’t quite name your aversions, and isn’t that already enough of a reason to stay away, spare the person you’re facing? “I don’t know how to be a wife! And I am scared. All my life I alienated myself from the idea of a marriage, I methodically dismissed every chance claiming it wasn’t the time, all the way ‘til I would say it was too late. I was content with that idea. Because I love- loved my life the way it is; I get more than I need from my father, and that is to remain unchanged when my brother takes over, and I am free as a bird, unbound by society’s expectations, traveling wherever, wherever and trying new things. I was, I am so happy about it that anything that may alter it I shun from immediately. And now I find myself in a place I never imagined, and I am scared. I don’t know what happens now. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know what that future looks like for us.”

He moves towards you, his head tilted sideways in understanding, arms reaching for yours. Finally, finally hearing your justifications, the basis of your attitude, fills him with pride and compassion, and most importantly, gives him an opportunity to help you solve those problems, together. But, you hush him, squeezing his wrists in gentle guidance, with tears streaking across your cheeks. “I just know that I love you. I love you so much that my heart will always feel like a weight in my chest when I’m not with you, like a ship sinking, but never reaching the bottom. And I will continue to love you even if you stop loving me back, but I would rather lose you on my terms than by the burdens a marriage brings.”

“Why do you so believe that a mere contract would change my feelings? Do you think my affections for you are that fragile?”

You frantically shake your head, causing the drops to fall faster. “No, I’m not saying that-“

“Then what?” He snaps, though not because he’s angry. He wants to learn every single reason that’s keeping you away.

“You don’t know what that will do to us.”

“No, I don’t! And I don’t care! It will never change my feelings.” This, he can shout freely. This is the simplest truth for all his remaining days on this earth.

You don’t know that, you want to object. “Obi Wan…” Is the response that comes out of your mouth. “I am not a good bride.”

“No.”There’s acceptance in his tone, a punch to your guts. “You’re the love of life, my companion, my everything.” When he pulls you even closer, and cups your cheeks, you let him. “Haven’t we been through all the struggles a couple could share already? Haven’t I seen all of you, and let you see all of me? Haven’t you claimed my entire soul, and occupied my every single thought? You made me break my rules, and painted a picture I never thought was suited for me- and I came to like that picture very much. In fact, it’s all I ever want my future to look like, with you in it. You, exactly in the way you already are, with all your unsusceptibility to the norms and striking habits. I know that can be scary. I am afraid too. But, anything worth doing starts like this, I know it. And we’ll be the biggest idiots in the world if we let our fear rule us.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, the joyful sound making his breath hitch. It is reflected on his face too, and it is something you’ll hold on to, alongside the tears that begin to form on his eyes. Fortunately, they sit there, despite him kneeling in front of you, his fingers never leaving the bend of your arm, only to follow the route they create, and hold onto both of your hands. “Please, marry me.”

You’re convinced, but your tongue is still tied, so you nod. Your entire upper body shakes with the gesture in seconds, making you look like an overexcited child, on the verge of losing their balance with the restlessness of their legs. You barely feel him kissing your knuckles before he stands up and embraces you, stabilizing both of you in both physical and emotional terms. Let’s be real, if he kissed you instead as he desperately wished to, you’d fall on the floor (and continue there- ‘til somebody discovered the two of you in very indecent terms). His chuckles quickly become your favorite song, you feel blessed as they delight your ears, and make your chest vibrate like his. He revels in the newfound proximity, despite the fact that you’ve been much, much closer in the past. This is new. This is raw love, uncombined with other emotions, strengthened by the absolute truth that you two are meant for each other, and with the promise of you’ll do something about it. He holds you ‘til your sense of balance is restored, for he now has urgent matters he has to attend to. He’ll get to hold you forever soon, and that revelation doesn’t change the herculean feat of letting you go now. He can’t help but wipe the streaks of wetness on your face, though it forms again. He solely doesn’t repeat himself because of the widest grin on your lips. You press yourself to his palm, eyelids closing for a moment, then place a small peck on it.

“I- I’m now gonna go and talk to your father, get the papers right- and find a-” oh, that’s not “a”, he is going to require many others even if he keeps everything minimal, “I’ll be back in three, fuck, four hours, okay?”

“What? No!” You exclaim, almost giving him a heart attack.

“What’s wrong?” His fingers tighten, a slight tremble taking over them. You have to smile to get him to relax once again, and raise your eyebrows wittily, as if he is a fool for not imagining it already, reminding him of your nature.

“I’m only doing this once. I want everything to be right.”

He squints his eyes, grasping your chin. There’s a few seconds of silence, the time it takes for his nerves to settle. When it does, you’re struck by the intensity of his blue irises, the condensed calm before the storm. “So you want to stay as my fiance ‘til the next season starts, in eight months, succumbing to waiting as we get no freedom to ourselves, always in the center stage, enjoying the last of our bachelor states, the lonely nights and beds bigger than you can ever occupy.”

His other hand, wandering across your waist tells you exactly what he implies. While you actually weren’t planning on such a thing, it causes a surge of rush to overtake you, burning you from the inside. Pursing your lips as you free your face from his grip, with a contradicting shaky breath, you say. “I was always fond of winter weddings…”

To this, he laughs, echoing in the room, and you join him.

One can only hope whoever outside listens to this too, this moment of pure joy preserved in one more mind.

===

“I couldn’t be happier to be married to you.” Obi Wan whispers, but the sentence is loud and clear to you, etched into where he takes nest in the crook of your neck, hot breaths burning your skin.

“We’re still not- ngh“ Yes, this is supposed to be the rehearsal, the night before the main event. You two should be at the reception downstairs, among your many relatives and friends and other members of the society, all gathered for tomorrow morning, when these words of yours will be invalid.

Of course, you are further making a hypocrite of yourself by the way you hold onto him, legs wrapped around his waist, arms locked around his shoulders as he burrows his cock into you. It was impossible to wait any further, as you were separated by the whole ordeal of preparations and the watchful eyes. The moment you found a clearing, you two slipped away, cue to now, where your back on the wall as he supports you against it. You didn’t even get one meter away from the door, you could basically reach the knob with a simple extension of your elbow, but in the end, who cares? Who cares when he fills you so deliciously, scratching the itch that has been building for some time, peppering you with all the love in his heart?

Still, your sentence is cut abruptly as he drives his hips faster, rougher- very much an act of pedantry, advising not to get lost in the details. It works, the correction dies on your tongue, though a quite loud moan takes its place. His hand flies to cover your mouth, and your eyes pop open, meeting his. The pressure of his palm against your face almost forces another sound out of you. Fuck, you adore those blue storms, even when they are focused elsewhere, turned to the door as if it can see past behind it, scanning for intruders. You do actually whimper when the danger dissolves, the vibrations running among his bones, and he keeps up his pace, hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

However, it is getting harder in terms of balance as he now has one hand to stabilize you, and despite your best efforts, it is quite hard not to slide off of the smooth fabric of his clothes. Remorsefully, you push on his shoulders, and he understands, pulling his cock out of you and burying his mouth on your skin. He stifles a sob in there, the frustration getting the best of him.

“Oh, you definitely had too much wine.” Look at who’s talking, you with those wobbly legs and bitten lips…

“No, I just had too little of you.”

Your heart flaps its wings out of your chest, as it does after his every cheesy compliment. You still cannot figure out how he makes you blush harder with those words, even as he ravages you in the meantime.

You reach for a kiss, it is always a good idea. He hums contently at the touch, grateful at the most basic form of contact. Obi Wan rocks against you unintentionally, and that’s how the unsatiated desire wages war, with desperate groans and roaming hands.

Then, his fingers tighten around your waist, and you find yourself supported against the vanity with your open palms, depositing most of your weight there (thank God, because you couldn’t trust your feet much longer). He pulls your hips back to his. Your back arches in a way that is most complementary to his chest, and fuck, it is a vision.

It literally is.

Fluttering your eyes open for only a second (that was your intention at least), you’re struck down with the image of the two of you in the mirror, faces contorted in the prettiest way that is possible in this dirty position, heavy lids and open mouths, fingertips whitened by the strong grasp you have on each other, the matching colors of your outfits…

Yes, even with that detail, you’re still on his side, agreeing you’d be idiots if you weren’t doing this.

Deciding to take the sight from its direct source, you turn your head to the side a little, looking at the adonis of a man you’ll soon call your husband, with his neatly trimmed beard and prominent cheekbones and long eyelashes you are slightly jealous of and so much more…

He meets your gaze, breathless with similar thoughts, that little tug on the corner of his mouth telling you all you need to know, but then he nudges your face to its previous state by a small clasp of your chin, and you’re watching him through the reflection, leaning forward when he starts to fumble with your skirt once again.

The moan that leaves you is totally incapable of being unobscured as he enters you anew. The change in the angle along with the visual stimulation has you teetering on the edge quite easily, like him, but he denies it, maintaining slow movements and choking out any noise that dares to leave him.

Of course, all is impeded when the door is knocked-

“Occupied!”

Your voices are synchronized, high and tight. The clock stops for a moment for your bodies, as if the stationary status makes it any less scandalous, and both of you fixated on the doorknob.

It never turns. Never.

Still, the dilated pupils remain a little longer, joined over the mirror, with big puffs of breath and shaking hands.

“Do you think they-“ There’s not an exact word that you can find to explain what has just occurred, but the sentiment is clear.

“Probably.” And the answer too is just as clear.

Well, the only thing lost is the trivial achievement of never being discovered before the wedding.

A wedding which is hours away.

So, you push back, wiggling your hips. His unrestricted sound is all you need to regain your spirits back, and you do it once more. Just like that, the wheels are turning.

“You realize there’s a bed behind us, right?” He asks as he slowly thrusts into you.

“Yes, but I like the view better here.”

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