#but now the end is in sight i find myself unable to look directly at it because no wait hold on. stop too fast

[possiblytracker]

in 2 days time after my one last exam i will never have to do anything related to academia ever again and i think i should probably be feeling some kind of way about it but it just has not sunk in at all

[cursedfortune]

far from the first time or the last, mortem is presently being observed by a spirit. but rather than the usual sort, this one is-- slimmer, perhaps, donned not mostly in variations on violet and gold, but sapphire and silver.

and it is curious. this person is -- inhuman, it thinks, but it is unable to tell anything more immediate in the moment beyond simply not knowing what to think of her.

its user seems tolerant enough of her, but it cannot yet bring itself to approach more than what's necessary to stare from a distance. (the moment she looks its way, it disappears from sight. perhaps it is wary. or perhaps it is shy?)

@jukudoku - unprompted

!!

The sudden presence was noticed even though she didn't immediately turn to gaze its way. It was familiar enough to know this was the spectre related to Bruno, if only because she had witnessed it now a few times. Once in action, which to this day still fascinated her immensely. The witch didn't fully understand yet just what it did but was curious to learn more without having to directly inquire with its mortal counterpart.

For a few minutes she paid it no mind, letting it have its time to observe her on its own before finally peering its way. The witch could only catch a glimpse before it faded but... ah, just out of sight, was it? Similar to what Star would do? Not completely gone, yet.

Good. Then it could listen and determine for itself to engage now or another time.

Mortem untied the pouch from her waist and propped it in her hand then, "Your power reminds me of this, though I don't know how accurate my comparison is. So I hope you're not offended should I be wrong, lovely."

She loosened the string around it and opened bag wider than it seemed capable of. To share with the spectre just what it was capable of she placed her hand inside, and then kept going. Engulfing her arm entirely within a pouch that should barely be able to house her fist. "Tis a bag of holding, you see. I carry many things in here and even, at times, have used it to house myself or others in my travels. And quite like your zippers, I've closed others off midway through to end their life. I am unsure if your ability allows you to do similar things to this little pouch of mine - but I find them impressive and pleasing all the same." She spoke, pulling free her limb before setting the bag on the table beside where she sat. An offer, if it wished to come examine her property without having to get too close to the witch.

[martyrsex]

JASON X READER +18!!!

A/N: So, 2600 words of pure smut. Yeah. For some reason my stupid writer ass can't help but write a plot - I promised myself; "this time you are writing porn without plot!" Spoiler, I can't.

If you're a minor, I don't take responsibility in the content you consume online.

summary: This is part two from Fantasies, where Roy did a joke calling reader a dirty word and this leads to Jason and reader doing the do. I highly recommend you to read the first part, to understand the nuances.

Warnings: Sex, and that's basically the whole fic. Some dirty talk, some dummies in love but realizing it kinda late. Maybe some grammar mistakes I'll correct later, when I read this again to edit.

Fantasies - part two.

His touch aroused shivers inside her while trailing a path till her neck. Pulling her hair, guiding her body to do as he pleases - her back exposed to the cold friction of his sheets. Jason towers upon her, forcing those gorgeous legs open, leaning closer to finally taste the lips that have been stealing his sleep.

Her arms lock around his neck when he invades her mouth with his lust, a raw passion guiding their pace. Jason needs to contain a moan when her nails scratch his shoulders; one hand grabbing her hair harder while the other worked simultaneously to open her bra. He ends the kiss to take the lovely piece of clothing out of her, throwing it on the ground, before drowning back in her now swollen lips. When he guided her to his room - exactly five minutes ago - he couldn't believe this was real. But now, being able to see her like this; wide open to him, eager to receive his touch, Jason understands his mind could never mold the perfection his eyes see.

Jason looks at her front, pupils blowing in pleasure. His hair is a mess from her touch, his cheeks red and lips shining thanks to the kiss; and when his right hand trails down her neck, purposefully neglecting her breasts - he does a mental note to correct this later - going down and palming her, upon jeans, a mean chuckle escapes him. It may be a flaw - but he can't keep his mouth shut. Especially when the whole situation just boosted his ego to the clouds.

"You're dripping wet, princess. I can even feel it through your pants." He looks directly at her eyes, "You wanted to be mine this much, huh? Didn't even touched you properly, and look at the mess you already did."

His moking words own him a whine, and his fingers sneak inside her underwear, tracing her slit. Going down and feeling the clenching - her body begging Jason to be inside it. A depraved moan escapes her lips when his finger goes up, pressing the wetness directly at her clit. Jason sighs at the sound.

"Need to take these off, sweetheart." His unoccupied hand opens the button of the jeans, unzipping it just as fast. She lifts her hips and her own hands help him to take the tight material off, that joins the company of her underwear, lost in some place of his room.

If this wasn't the first time, he would have asked her permission for a picture. Because he knows he is unable to register the whole sight. Jason hopes one day he will have the space to do such an intimate request, but for now, he simply states;

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart." Her hair sprawled out on his bed, her skin shining with desire. He forgets the lust briefly, admiring her beauty as if it was some piece of art. His heart begs his brain to acknowledge his emotions - but Jason's way to lost in desire to perceive this.

She's about to say something, but he leans down, kissing her once more, a different feeling guiding his actions this time. A feeling he's been trying to forget.

Mouth going down, he marks her neck fiercely, while two fingers enter her wetness, going straight to that spot he learned how to find long ago; massaging it with two fingers while his thumb pressed hard against her swollen clit. He doesn't miss the rhythm nor the reactions her body presents him, sounds he'd beg to hear again. With each stroke, he can feel her walls tightening; and suddenly he is unsure about his capacity of controlling his next steps when she cries his name.

"Jason-" She fails to build a phrase, mouth open; no sound but a high pitched moan leaving her throat. Nails deepened in his triceps while he tilts his head up to watch her bliss. Her eyes close, but he keeps his own wide open. He wants to watch everything, so he can replay it after. And He doesn't give a fuck if it's odd.

In the fantasies Jason created in his mind, her first orgasm with him was normally when he was already pounding inside her. In some nights, he imagined it to be sensual, slow sex. In others, he lost himself to the desire of hard, rough trusts - making her scream his name till she lost her voice. And the original plan was exactly that - she'd only come around his cock, in both scenarios. But she looks so pretty now, so ethereal and vulnerable for him, so trusting,he could never forgive himself if he deprived her from this. He expects to have lot of other opportunities to tease; but today, he decides, is about her.

So Jason keeps moving his fingers, ignoring the pain in his neglected cock, and increasing the pace. Supporting himself on his forearm, he watches her face squirm beautifully while she trembles beneath him, repeating his name like is the only word she knows; and he has to fight hard to not cum in his fucking pants when she opens her eyes and pulls his hair.

He kisses her lips, a small peck while he helps her relax from her high. Taking his fingers out, he just rubs her softly; while his muscles worked to support him on the elbow and stroke her hair, feeling the softness of it in his fingers. The touch on her sweet cunt vanishes, and she whines as protest. He then positions himself slightly down. Jason feels the urge of tasting her.

So, he starts to trail kisses down her neck and then stomach, now squeezing her breasts with both hands; and her skin shivers at the wetness and the smell leaking from his fingers. Her hands follow him, stopping his motions with a stroke in his hair;

"Jay, I wanna ride you." His stare goes up to her face, a rare smile making his eyes shine. She feels butterflies in her belly. His hands are then leaving her chest and opening her legs, both thumbs spreading her pussy open. "Jason-" He kisses her clit, shamelessly shutting her with his unpredictable action.

"You'll have to let me eat you out another time, then." Jason's tongue licks her slit, eyes daring. She knows he only wants a confirmation that this is not a one time thing. She's been questioning that herself, and relief embraces her with his ask.

He closes his eyes, continuing his tongue's motions on her, slow, passionate. She realizes, then, that this is more for his enjoyment than hers - Jason Todd is a hell of a giver. But so is she, and now is her time to please him.

Pulling his hair softly, she says, smiling: "Of course I'll let you. But now, I really want to feel your cock inside me. Besides... I'm on the pill, though you'd like to know. Please, Jay?"

Fucking hell. This couldn't get any better. The temptation of watching his cum spilling out her is way to strong for him to deny, and his cock throbs at her words, as he leaves her skin to take his clothes off.

Grabbing her hips, he sits on the bed, back against the headboard, and Jason fastly positions her on his lap. She laughs at the manner he manhandles her, as if she weighed nothing. She stops laughing when her eyes looked down, widening.

This was so not fitting inside her.

She looks at his face, hands on his shoulders. "I don't- I don't think it will fit." His grip tights around her hips, a smirk appearing in his face; and he starts guiding her back and forth in his dick. They moan in unison - enjoying the grinding, but Jason was only torturing himself. Pre-cum leaked out his slit, resting in his stomach. Jason opens his legs more and pulls her closer, breasts against his chest, by circling an arm around her waist. With her ear just besides his mouth, and completely drunk in lust, he whispers;

"I'll make it fit, baby. You wanted to ride me, yeah? Now you'll ride me - until I'm fucking done."

The words left his lips slowly, a tease. Jason kisses her cheek and strokes her back lovingly, a huge contrast with the mean tone that had her hole clenching in nothing.

Positioning his tip against her entrance, he pushes her down, hands supporting her back. Even with his choice of words, he doesn't want to hurt her. Because Jason's aware the lack of care in this first moments can cause her pain, he guides her down slowly, paying attention to her features - making sure she's not in pain because of him.

When he finally is deep inside, feeling her clenching around him, he allows himself to moan. "Fuck- princess - you feel so fucking good."

Her body is so close to him, hands and breasts touching his chest; and she starts to build pace, walls massaging him. His hands grabs her ass tightly, helping her increase the pace.

He is overwhelmed with all the places this position provides view - her tits right in front him, bouncing deliciously; her cute face slightly upon his, mouth open and red cheeks from the effort she has to do.

But then, he remembers. He remembers the fucking huge mirror in the wall that faces his bed. And, as he feels her juices slipping down his cock, Jason drowns in the show that stupid mirror provides. He watches her pussy stretching from his size, his huge hands squeezing her cheeks hard enough to leave bruises, her legs working hard to pleasure them - to pleasure him - and her delicate back shining with sweat.

He looks at his own face, and can't force himself to feel shame about the pathetic state he is in. Red cheeks, brows up, his own mouth as apart as hers. And he doesn't care, he doesn't care because he feels so fucking good; and this all feels so fucking right, and he starts to pound up into her, shifting his stare at her face.

"Jay- Jason! My God- I'm gonna-" Her legs start to fail, and she moans his name again and again; but he just keeps going, now using her body for his own release. She's trembling, and his hands start to glissade up with each hard pump of his hips, stopping just under her breasts. With her head in his shoulder, she can listen to his groans, allowing him to ravish her - allowing him to use her. Like if she was exactly what Roy had called her, weeks ago.

You really are Jason's slut, aren't you?

She can feel his tip stroking her cervix with each bounce; but suddenly- he stops. She takes her head out of the curve of his neck. His eyes are dark, pupils wide enough to make the blue almost disappear. She feels a peck on her lips, and the air is cold against her overstimulated cunt. His cock empties her, and Jason shoves her out of his lap; demanding, but gently, he says;

"On your fours. Wanna fuck you from behind." She doesn't know, but this is another depraved fantasy of him. He wants to be able to watch the movements, in and out; he wants to pull that shiny hair, and he wants to bite that cute shoulder from behind, and whisper a lot of dirty things in her ear.

And he does just that.

The pull in her hair makes her eyes roll to the back of her skull, the new position allowing him to dive deeper. His free hand grabs one of her cheeks, a moan leaving his lips with the vision of her stretched hole taking him so eagerly, her tightness informing him to finish and never leave the warmth, embracing his cock like a fucking vice. But he doesn't allow himself the release, because she is almost reaching her own again, and he wants her to, wants to listen that raw moans, and he is so fucking lost in this, the words just leave his mouth.

"Roy was - fuck - right, wasn't he? You are mine, baby. My little slut, how does that sounds?" Jason's words are dirty; but his voice is gentle.

How does that sounds? It sounds good, Jay. Make me yours- even if it's just sex. Even if you just want me for this, and I want to be way more.

Her body betrayes her; enjoying the word way to much, ignoring her thoughts.

"Jason-" and she can't form any fucking words, because she just found bliss for the third time, and she loves that stupid dirty word and how it leaves his lips in such a lovely way; as if it was a sweet name, as if he loved her and just said this because he knows she likes it.

And she is so overwhelmed and lost and in love. And she starts to cry of pleasure, and because does he sees her just that way? Just a toy for him to get off? She is unable to enjoy her high completely, the sudden questions occupying majority of her thoughts.

With some more pounds, Jason finds his own release, filling her with his mess. He kisses her back and pulls out, enjoying the view quietly while stroking her back.

He hears small sobs, and his whole body tenses again, forgetting about the trivial pleasure. Gently grabbing her arm, he makes her sit on the bed, face in front of his. When he comes across the way she tries to hide her tears, he feels like throwing up. Fuck. Did he went to far?

"Hey, what's wrong? Did I hurt you? You didn't liked what I said? Was I to rough-"

"No! No. It was great, I'm just... I'm being silly. It's nothing, Jason. You... you were perfect, seriously."

And it was great. It was so great, she realized she was in deep shit. She loved a guy that only desired her body. And it sucks. Because she might love him, and she could never compare to Jason. She would never be good enough. Suddenly, she feels way to vulnerable in front of him.

"Can you hand me my clothes, please?"

She was leaving him. He feels his chest tightening. Maybe he was a fool for expecting her to stay, to expect her to allow him to cuddle her, and take care of her, and whisper sweet nothings on her ear. Yeah, he adored her body, but he adored her as a whole. He... damn, he might love her. Suddenly, he feels way to vulnerable in front of her.

"Sure."

She dresses, denying the soft towel he offered her to clean herself - and she just leaves. Crying, dirty, and alone. And Jason stares at his door, cursing himself from believing a guy like him could pull out a fucking goddess like her. He wants to go after her - kiss her tears away, prepare a bath tub of some comforting shit; but he listens to the Hall door opening. Roy's back.

Maybe fantasies are supposed to be just that - fantasies. He feels tears in his own eyes, and fears he just lost a friend - he fears he just lost the person he wants to be loved by.

[buckyownsmylife]

I've Told You Now - Lee Bodecker smut

The one where Lee seduced his sister's babysitter.

Warnings: smut, dubcon, age gap, innocence kink, dirty talk, loss of virginity, blood

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: This one is a part of my kinktober celebrations. My original intention for this October was to work exclusively around prompts that my wonderful friend @darkficsyouneveraskedfor created for her challenge and dedicate each story to a different friend. My new plan became then 31 days of different kinks, which expanded on a poly relationship with Stucky, as you might know by now. However, some of the stories I started were already truly loved by me, and so I kept on writing them. It worked well because as it turns out, I am fortunate enough to have more than 31 friends on Tumblr, so here is the story I wrote for @slothspaghettiwrites! You were the biggest reason I fell for Lee and it was only appropriate I wrote you this! I only hope it doesn't disappoint! Special thanks to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog who helped me believe this was good enough to be posted! @sweeterthanthis also has a big hand at this!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I was finishing packing up the toys in the living room when I heard the door slam, startling me into dropping the box of legos on the ground. Looking at the clock, I considered the time before looking back at the hall again. When no one appears from the hallway, I get confused. If the Hendersons hadn’t come home earlier than they intended, who else could it be?

“Waiting for me, bunny?” I immediately straightened out at the sight of Sheriff Bodecker, trying to resist the urge not to flush and keep eye contact, but ultimately failing to do so. I hadn’t seen him since the night he offered to give me a ride home and I ended up with his cock in my throat, his cum in my mouth.

“I-I didn’t even know you were coming.” Silence followed my confession as he slowly approached, eyes never leaving my body while I tried to keep myself up. He’d always had this effect on me. I remembered being a young girl and Sheriff Bodecker being the crush I knew was too old to be mine, the guy I’d never have even in a million years, but that didn’t stop me from daydreaming about him.

If I thought that maybe having him would help this infatuation disappear, it’d become clear by now that it wouldn’t be the case at all.

“And here I was, thinking you wanted me just as much as I wanted you.” The Sheriff tsked, and the sound went straight to my already dampened underwear. I couldn’t process his words very well, given how close he was and how loud my own heartbeat was ringing in my ears. Did he mean to say that he actually really wanted me?

“If that was really the case,” he taunted, circling me like I was some sort of prey. “You’d always be expecting me, wouldn’t you? But it’s alright, honey. You know why?” When I shook my head, he answered his own question, a single finger running down my jaw to guide me to look him in the eye. “Because I think you were expecting me. You’re always expecting me, looking for me wherever you go, just like I do. And there’s an easy way to prove my theory.”

Before I could question it, his arms embraced me from behind, hands slowly running down my stomach until they reached the edge of my skirt. I started sweating in anticipation. I knew what he would find.

“Let me check.” His fingers went over the fabric first, and he chuckled when he noticed how wet it was. “Would you look at that?” I was already trembling when he pulled my panties to the side and ran that same digit over my lower lips, just lightly grazing them. “Soaked already.”

Although I couldn’t see it, the humming sound he emitted after taking his fingers from under my dress didn’t leave me any doubt about what he did with the moisture he collected. Just the thought of him enjoying my taste that much had me weak in the knees, and I tried to keep myself up by reaching for a chair nearby.

Lee’s P.O.V.

I chuckled to myself at how sensitive she was, barely able to keep up with the little I’d done so far. Then again, it was clear I had a particularly strong effect on her. That had been obvious for a while, ever since she started working for my sister, probably - around the same age her womanly features began to stand out.

She seemed unable to look me directly in the eyes, always averting her gaze and biting her lower lip when I decided to stop around here for a coffee or check in on the little rugrat. I began doing this a lot more often after she was hired, but neither her nor my sister seemed to connect the dots.

Her innocence, her beauty just left me so fucking hard. I was hard right then, and I wanted her to know it. So I pressed my body against her back, lightly grinding my member against the curve of her ass.

“I suppose you’re finished for the day,” I speculated, knowing once the kid was out all she had to do was wait for my sister and her husband to arrive. “Guess I can help you unwind…”

She gasped when she felt my hardness, making me chuckle. “Your sister and her husband should be back soon…” She tried to reason, but I wasn’t having any of it.

“We’ll be quiet anyway. Can’t risk waking up the kid.” I gripped her wrist and pulled her on the direction of the guest bedroom, now fully unable to control myself. I was so close to having what I had wanted for so long.

She looked unsure of herself as I closed the door behind us, and I raised an eyebrow in a questioning look. “What’s wrong?” She shifted her weight from one foot to another, fingers playing with the hem of her skirt.

“I-I don’t know about this…” Chuckling, I approached her to cradle her face between my hands and deposit a kiss on those sweet lips.

“Don’t you trust me, pretty girl?” I had caught her now, we both knew it. She’d never risk disappointing or offending me, so when her mouth opened to explain herself and I raised an eyebrow in warning, it was only a matter of seconds until she closed it altogether and nodded, her eyes dropping to her feet.

“Yes, I do.” My smirk was full of victory, and I could taste it in my lips now. It was as sweet as the nectar between her legs I’d only had a taste of.

“There you go.” Approaching her once more, I settled my hands on her hips before leaning to kiss her shoulder. “Besides…” I continued, already bunching up her dress to get rid of it as quickly as possible. “You obviously need me to take care of you and this little wet hole.”

She bucked when my fingers rubbed her this time, dress already forgotten on the floor as I slowly shoved down the fabric of her underwear to join it. Once she was completely naked, I ran my digits over her cunt, verifying that her wetness was already so overwhelming that it was threatening to drip from her.

“So sweet.” I hummed once I wrapped my lips around those digits, tasting her on my tongue again. Yes, I was already obsessed. I think anyone who had the chance to try her nectar would understand my situation - but no one ever would.

She was mine now, and I would never let her go.

“C’mon, bunny.” Patting her ass, I directed her to the bed, chuckling at how embarrassed she seemed, being this exposed to my hungry gaze. “Be a good girl and spread your legs. Be my little angel, won’t you?”

I wished I could have done this somewhere more private - my own house, instead of my sister’s. But I just couldn’t wait anymore. My cock twitched inside my pants. I felt like I was drunk on this, drunk on her.

“C’mon, honey!” I repeated, lightly slapping the outside of her thigh. “I wanna fuck you. And I know you want to be mine, pretty girl. You can’t hide it from me.”

When she finally relented and slowly parted her beautiful legs for me, I nearly melted at the sight. Driven by my desire, I unbuckled my belt and worked to whip my cock out as quickly as possible, smirking at the wide, innocent eyes that settled on my member as I fisted it in preparation.

“Doesn’t it look good?” I teased, climbing on the bed to take my spot between her legs, rubbing the head of my dick against her slit. “I’m gonna have you taste it next time. But for now…”

Resting my forehead against hers, I slowly started to penetrate her tight pussy, slipping only the head at first, even though I was aching to fuck her throughly.

“This is gonna hurt a little,” I warned, not able to stop mid-way to let her adjust but keeping my invasion of her maidenhood slow until I had bottomed out inside of her. “Sh…” I tried to calm her, gently wiping away the few tears running down her soft cheeks. “I know it hurts, bunny. But you can take it, can’t you?”

She managed to nod despite her whimpers, and I brushed her tears away as I warned her, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, honey.”

It took a little while, but at last, she opened her eyes and I waited until she was able to focus them on me again. “You look so pretty, bunny…” I whispered, kissing her while I finally started to move inside of her, stopping only to moan out loud at her overwhelming tightness.

“I’m gonna train you until all you can think about is my cock,” I warned her, slowly pulling out until only the head of my cock was keeping her open.

“I can’t wait any longer.” Slamming my dick all the way in, I felt her nails running down my back, leaving trails of blood behind - trails I wouldn’t mind wearing under my shirt, sting as they might.

“I promise you, honey…” I panted, sweat already dripping from my forehead onto her pretty face. “You’re gonna miss me when I’m not inside of you.”

I kissed her cheek, rubbing my nose against it as she held me tightly against her. “I know you don’t want any of those boys you used to go to school with touching what I’ve already taken.”

She nodded quickly, my pretty little honey. Yes, she was mine already and she knew it. “It’s alright, pretty girl…” I soothed her as she started to whine, her cunt clenching deliciously around me. “It’s alright, cum with me…”

She closed her eyes when she met bliss, but I kept mine wide open so I wouldn’t miss her perfect expression of pleasure. It was almost enough to keep me hard, but I wasn’t as young as I once was.

I never pulled out of her tight heaven, keeping her body snuggled against me. I was happy that I decided to be patient, if it meant I now got to have her like this.

“I hope you know that you’re mine now, bunny.”

[red-writes]

soft yan! shinsou x chubby! reader

summary: you keep receiving these letters in your mailbox from an unknown person, somehow you find yourself slowly falling for the creepy admirer until one day they decide to reveal themselves to you in the worst way possible—by looming over you while you sleep.

warnings: yandere behavior, insecurities, light smut.

Boo’s note: hi okay, this is dedicated to the annie that asked me for a shinsou fic, tbh I didn’t really know what to make it about bc u didn’t specify but here I hope you like it *^* uhh it’s also unedited im sorrrrry

Everyday at 7:00 am, the mailman drops off mail. Everyday at 7:10 am you’re rushing downstairs after stuffing half a bagel in your mouth to retrieve the stack of envelopes from the mailbox. The letters started appearing a month ago, pretty purple envelopes sealed with a cat sticker were amongst your mail everyday. You picked out the purple one and dropped the other unimportant, plain white envelopes on the coffee table. You took a seat on the couch and hurriedly opened it up.

My dearest love,

Last night I had a dream about you. You’re perfect face was smiling at me, you called my name and even held your hand out to me. You were so perfect I woke up crying. The more time that passes, the more I find myself falling deeper and deeper in the never-ending ocean that is you. So deep, so warm, comforting and gentle. Do you think that maybe one day, we could be happy together? That we could live a life together somewhere peaceful where you have me and I have you and that’s it. To me, that sounds like heaven, a world where the only person I only ever see is you. You’re my everything, my reason to live, to breathe and to continue living in this grueling world. I hope the rest of your day is good, I hope you enjoy yourself at the party.

xoxo,

shin.

After reading you couldn’t help the hard pounding of your heart, it was unusual yes, but you found his fondness for you quite endearing. You clutched the letter and held it to your chest. While it was strikingly odd that he knew about tonight’s party, you didn’t mind. Up until now shin had been harmless, never saying or doing anything too weird or creepy, nothing to warrant you to visit the local police station. You refolded the letter and tucked it back inside of the envelope. Instead of mulling over small details, you needed to find something to put on tonight!

+

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was a charity event for the company you worked for, everyone from the hero deku to chargebolt was in attendance. Big parties like this were not your scene but you had to go, your boss invited you personally and you didn’t want to let him down. You took a drink off of one of the tables and made your way to a less crowded corner of the room. You took rare sips of your champagne as you sighed. This place was definitely not your scene.

“You look fabulous tonight” you hear from beside you, you’re quick to turn your head and your eyes lay upon none other than the mind-jacking hero, Shinsou!

You’re quick to bow, “ah! Mr.shinsou, sir, it’s an honor to meet you” you greet and he’s chuckling softly.

“Hey now, don’t worry about being too formal with me” he says, voice gentle as he rests a hand on your shoulder. Your face is burning, he told you that you looked nice! The number five hero just complimented you!

“Thank-thank you” you say and quickly take another sip of your drink to try and calm your nerves, “you look nice as well”

He gives you a genuine smile, “you’re so sweet”

You can hardly breathe right now, Shinsou first told you that you looked nice and now he was calling you sweet? Was this your lucky day or something?

“Well Shinsou I-”

“Oh! Hitoshi, I’ve been looking for you man!”

Chargebolt walked over to where the two of you were standing and wrapped his arm around Shinsou’s neck. He began pulling him away, going on about how ground zero almost slapped one of the patrons. Shinsou turned to wave goodbye to you and you did the same. Once he was out of sight you released a breathe you hadn’t know you’d been holding in. Tonight felt like a dream, you really didn’t want to wake up from it.

“y/n! There you are, I need to you take pictures of me and some of our guests!” Your boss yells and you’re sighing, downing the rest of your drink before you rest it on a neighboring table.

“Coming sir!”

well maybe you were ready to wake up from it now.

+

The next day at the same time you retrieved your mail, you’d shuffled through it several times and yet you hadn’t found that signature purple envelope. The day after that and even the day after that one there was no letter for you in the mail. It stung. Maybe they’d lost interest in you? Maybe they decided that you weren’t good enough after all?

The sixth day after receiving no letter you’d decided to give up, it wasn’t like you knew this was going to happen. You threw yourself onto your bed as soon as you got out the shower. You’d been doing poorly at work lately, your mind too busy focusing on those purple envelopes rather than the stack of paper work in front of you. You pulled the sheets up to your chin and shut your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t dream of that person or their kind words.

There was an odd sensation you got, it felt like cold air was hitting your body. Were you still dreaming? You didn’t leave your window open. Your eyes fluttered open, your vision still slightly blurry as you came to. Your sat up and rubbed your eyes. From the corner of your eye you saw a figure standing there. Fear that laid dormant until now began to unfurl itself in your gut, you slowly turned your head to face it and there he was.

“M-mr.Shinsou?!” You whisper yelled, he gave you a soft smile and held his hands up in front of him.

“You caught me” he says and begins walking towards you, you’re scurrying away from him on the bed.

“Why- why are you here?!” you hold the sheet up in front of you like a shield.

“I felt guilty about not sending letters for so long..I made you sad and I couldn’t forgive myself for that so I came to make it up to you” he explains and your still sleep filled mind was struggling trying to comprehend his words.

“Letters..you’re the one who has been sending me all of those letters?” You ask and he nods, he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and that familiar pounding of your heart is back. It was him, the person you’d been longing for, for so long now.

“Mhm, everything I said in those letters were true as well, how beautiful I think you are, how addicting your personality is, how absolutely sinful I think your body is..” he whispers and you feel air caught in your throat. Shinsou inches closer and closer to you and in a flash of purple he pins you underneath him.

“Mr.Shinsou..-”

“Hitoshi, call me Hitoshi” he corrects.

His head slowly lowers until his face is millimeters from yours, his breath is hot against your lips and you can’t help but shut your eyes, you’d been wanting this- wanting him for such a long time now. Shinsou’s lips press gently against yours and you find yourself kissing back, your lips move in a glorious synchronous. The kiss was one of passion and hunger; proof that the two of you had been longing for the other. You pulled away from him, lungs grateful for the ability to breathe again.

“Hitoshi..” you whisper and Shinsou sucks in a breath before his hands move downwards to pull at the hem of your night gown.

“Can I?” He asks and you find yourself nodding. The number five hero, the man who has been stalking you, sending you letters that if you were anyone else would find creepy, the man you’d fallen for…

You raised your arms in the air as he slowly began lifting the sheer cloth off of you revealing your nude body to him. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, your arms folded to cover your exposed chest.

“Y-you might be disillusioned after seeing me completely naked..if you regret choosing me to give your heart to, I don’t blame you” you shyly confess and Shinsou’s eyes widen.

“I could never, I've merely dreamt about this day every night for months on end...you are the most beautiful person I've had the pleasure of laying eyes upon.” He says, his hands gently pry your arms away from your body and you can feel hot tears well up in your eyes as he lays you back against the soft blankets.

His lips are soft as they press themselves against every bit of exposed skin, his kisses don't shy away from stretch marks or any of your other insecurities. A warm, heated feeling that blossoms in your chest. 

Love? Desire? Serendipity?

It felt like all three combined into one big ball of sentiment. 

His hands gently massaged your breasts evoking soft mewls of his name from you. His hands slivered downwards to grope the flesh of your stomach.

“Soft beautiful...” he mumbles, his hands move even further downwards and cup the warmth between your legs. The feeling of his hand directly against you has your legs spreading, giving yourself completely to him. His fingers gently rub circles at your clit, your hips stutter up into his touch, moans and whimpers tumble out of your mouth dumbly. The situation you've been so eager for, for so long was finally upon you.

Your back arches off the mattress as he slides a slim finger inside of you, the sensation feels much fuller than your own fingers do. You beg him to go faster, add more and make you feel better than you have ever before and he's shushing your lust filled ramblings with a kiss. 

“I need to savor this moment, I won’t get many more like this” he expresses and your concern is evident on your face but he doesn't allow you to ponder on his words. He adds in another finger and curls them upwards, pressing them against the spongy sweet spot, his head ducks down and his lips wrap firmly around your clit and suck on the aching bud. Your eyes roll back into your head and your body shakes, unable to handle to the newfound euphoria.

“Ah- shinsou! I’ll- cumming!” your cunt spasms around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, you grip onto the sheets around you as your thighs shake.

“You look so pretty like this, so so pretty” he compliments, before you know it your eyes are involuntarily fluttering shut. You're scared, panic fills you at the thought of him not being here when you wake up, you don't want this to be another fever dream. 

+

When you awake the next morning you feel heavy. Your body slumped with the exhaustion of the previous nights activities. You're eyes widen as your hand feels around the bed, your fingers bump into the heat of another body and there is. The yellow halo from the sun is cast over his head as his chest rises and falls.

You scoot in close enough so that your noses are just barely touching. His eyes begin creaking open and purple gems meet your own.

“Good morning”

“Morning..”

Questions about what he meant last night could wait…you wanted spend your time right now loving him.

[teyvattherapist]

Hello, hello~ I see you opened your requests and I LOVE it.

Can I request a gn!reader with Diluc, Xiao and Albedo who are trying to confess to the reader, but always failed because reader is too busy and is like "sorry need to go." or "I have something to do."?

In the end they confronted them and won't let them go so they finally can confess properly!

I hope you know what I mean ^.^

Have a nice day, have fun and thank you🙌

-Anon (because I don't want my friends to find out I read stuff like this ;-;)

Haha, I'm glad! Sorry for the wait and welcome to my blog! I hope you enjoy<3

tags: gn!reader x Albedo, Diluc, Xiao(separate), fluff, tsundere Xiao, flustered Diluc, Albedo is the only normal one for once wow, busy busy bees.

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

Albedo

-The least annoyed over this as the others. Still kind of annoyed. But not nearly as much.

-Albedo is also really busy, so trying to clear his schedule to meet your schedule and then you're even more busy its.. He doesn't do good with relationships as is.

-The last to assume you are avoiding him tbh. He's smart but he doesn't understand social cues well enough to draw that conclusion.

-This is why he has lured you to dragonspine because he "needs help".

-cant run now bitch -Khoi Dao as Albedo probably.

Teal eyes watch you as you place the appropriate items where they need to go in his little camp. He had asked you to aid him in organizing his camp, every time he does it it just gets messed up minutes later anyways, he said. You reached up, placing some assorted trinkets on one of the shelves in the small camp. When you turn back towards the alchemist he’s holding his pencil to his pad of paper, but his eyes are trained on you.

“What else do we need to do here? I need to get back to Mond-”

“Ahem, I do believe myself to be in love with you. And I would like to pursue a romantic relationship should you feel the same.” Albedo sounds so casual about it you almost didn’t process what he just exclaimed. He gave you a moment, setting his notepad down on the small wooden table while he waited.

You let out an awkward laugh as you examined him, his expression remained as it usually did. “You’re not kidding?” He shakes his head. “Oh well-” You clear your throat, stepping closer to him and reaching out to him. He takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “I do really have to get back to Mondstadt, but I feel the same.” You squeeze his hands and he returns the gesture.

Thankfully Kaeya’s advice paid off..

Diluc

-Help him. He’s tried so many times. What do you MEAN you need to go to Liyue for a weekend? Why do you need to take on Bennett’s commissions? Can you stand still for two seconds.

-No. No you can’t. Straight up thinks you’re avoiding him for some reason. Too salty to ask anybody for assistance in this matter. Just kind of broods.

-Sees you while he’s out doing his darknight hero duties and decides now is a great time to corner you in, what normal non Diluc people consider, the weirdest way possible.

-Aka he just kind of drops down from wherever the hell this Batman impersonator was hiding.. Directly in front of you. This was not how he intended to do this but it was getting ridiculous and Kaeya was making fun of him so here he is.

"Ah! Diluc! Archons, my heart." You press a hand to your chest as you meet his gaze. His jaw is set and he somehow seems more annoyed than usual. You lower your hand as his eyes flick away from your form, glancing down the dark streets of Mondstadt. "Is something wrong? You're out quite late." You smile at him and he finally looks back at you.

"Pardon my boldness, but given your recent schedule I have been unable to find a better time for this." He steps closer and you tilt your head, waiting for him to continue what he was going to say. "I would like to take you out to dinner sometime." He adjusts his gloves as he waits for the momentarily stunned silence to pass. Did he always do this when he was nervous…?

"Sure! I'll be free this weekend. Is anybody else joining us?" His smile is awkward, forced maybe? At your words.

"I meant romantically." Diluc clarifies, clearing his throat as warmth spreads to his cheeks. He could only hope his face didn't match his hair. Spoiler alert, it does.

You rub the back of your neck, not expecting this of all things on your walk home from commissions. "I'd love to, Diluc. I'll see you at five on Saturday." You pat his chest as you walk by him in the direction of your home. Leaving a stunned, very flustered wine tycoon.

Xiao

-THIS GUY. The most annoyed AND the most broody.

-He has never felt like this before, and so he’s stepping out of his comfort zone to even tell you! And then you just? Cut him off? And run away?!

-Tries only once, the moment you’re out of his line of sight he just sort of up and disappears from Wangshu Inn? He just leaves!

-You find out from Verr, because she wants to know if you’ve seen him. "Last I saw him he was going to tell you he likes you." She says with a smile as if she didn't know he disappeared because he didn't manage to say it. Sneaky.

-So this is how you end up trying to lure him in with offers of almond tofu and annoyingly calling out ‘Adeptus Xiao!’ over and over again like he’s a grumpy cat(he is.)

Black and teal swirls of smoke appeared before you and you could only sigh in relief, this had taken the better half of your day. The smoke soon dissipated, Xiao replacing it with his typical scowl. “What do you want?” His tone is harsh, harsher than usual. But at least he isn’t dead or whatever, so you had that going for you.

“I heard some very interesting information from Verr Goldet!” You inform him, holding up the container of almond tofu, it jiggled. His amber eyes snap to the almond tofu, reaching out and snatching the container from you with a huff. A grumpy cat, indeed. “I have a few days off from commissions, would you like to tell me anything?” You clasp your hands behind your back, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“No.”

“Okay! Well, guess I’ll go then- Check in with Verr Goldet ok?” Xiao grabs your wrist before you could take more than a step away from him, polearm disappearing to make room for your arm. “Hm? Something wrong, Xiao?”

“Do not make me say it.”

“Say what?”

Xiao huffs but doesn’t let go of your wrist, this was so embarrassing. He knew you knew, you knew he knew you knew. Why bother with this charade? Though, he supposed, this humour of yours is partially what had drawn him to you. Xiao mumbles something under his breath and you lean in closer to hear him. “This is stupid, I like you.” He mumbles, again.

“There we go, was that so hard? I-”

“It was.”

“I like you too, Xiao. Let’s go back to the inn and enjoy that tofu.”

[therealvinelle]

Hi, I was reading a post here in Tumblr about how Edward has two gifts, he can hear thoughts and is super fast, so I wonder what is your opinion about this topic?.

Furthermore, what others power might the Volturi's leaders and guards might have?

Edward has one gift, and it’s telepathy. Being fast isn’t a gift.

Strength, speed and even senses is varied among vampires. Some, like Emmett, are on the extreme end, but that doesn’t make Emmett gifted, nor does it mean that the rest are at an equal level. The Cullens have clear variations between them.

Physique appears to play a dominant role in how these variations play out: Alice, who was malnourished and never made it past 4′10″, is the physically weakest of the coven, while Emmett at 6′5″ and a mountain of muscles is the strongest. This is made very clear during the baseball game:

“Emmett was hovering close to third (base), knowing that Alice didn’t have the muscle to outstrip Rosalie’s fielding." (Midnight Sun, chapter The Game)

There’s also the fact that it’s taken for granted that Emmett would be intimidating to other vampires, and he is dismayed when James is more worried about Jasper, who is lean.

I suspect this disparity exists simply because a large frame means more tissue to have blood in. Newborns, animal, and human-eating vampires all having a difference in terms of strength is proof that blood has the final say in a vampire’s prowess, so Emmett being able to contain more of it than Alice and therefore being stronger makes sense to me.

This isn’t the meta for me to get into that, but I don’t think vampires have muscles in the sense we do. Or rather, we can’t know that they do. Renesmée is proof that Edward retains his human DNA, or she would be a clone of Bella. Nahuel is proof that Joham retains a Y-chromosome. Does this mean that vampires have different cell types? Does a vampire’s stone-like skin still contain human DNA? One would think yes - except, if you rip a vampire apart, you get rubble. The parts are all solid. There’s also Carlisle theorizing that vampires digest blood by absorbing it through porous tissue, which makes me wonder why he dismissed his digestive system (my guess: vivisection fun times with Aro in Volterra. Carlisle couldn’t have done it on his own, and Aro is the only one mad and curious enough to be down for that). I’m getting off-topic - what I’m saying is, we don’t know how vampires work, meaning I can’t build this meta off of the assumption that they have muscles. I simply can’t know for sure that they do.

The important thing is that a vampire’s physique is a deciding factor in how strong they are.

There’s also Laurent’s warning about James, that he has “unparalleled senses”, meaning some vampires are better at sight, hearing, and smell than others. I can believe that, because we have canon examples of vampires being bad at tracking.

There’s Edward in Port Angeles, who couldn’t track Bella’s, his singer, scent to her location, and (I admit this one is conjecture but it’s so probable that I say it goes) Carlisle’s creator, who after taking care of the mob must have realized he’d bitten one of the humans, meaning a newborn would soon be loose in London. This is punishable by death by the Volturi. The fact that he didn’t return to finish Carlisle off means that he was unable to find him. I remind the audience that Carlisle was bleeding and suffering the effects by a venom intended to paralyze the victim. To put it this way, Carlisle wouldn’t have survived James, or anybody with a trace of tracking competence. By comparison, Carlisle was able to locate a dying Rosalie by the smell of her blood, even though there wouldn’t have been a trail for him to follow, as her body had not been moved.

When it comes to these disparities in strength and speed among the Volturi, I imagine Jane and Alec are the physically weakest members of the guard, and among the slowest. They’re prepubescent, meaning no muscle for them, and their height (a humble 4′8″ and 4′10″) implies very short legs. They’re simply not going to get as far as an adult would, not in the same number of steps. Renata at 5′0″ is another tiny vampire lady who likely isn’t very strong or fast.

That’s not to say I think these physically weaker members of the Volturi guard are necessarily useless in hand-to-hand combat, Alec at least is a boy stuck in a playful age, and the males around him are trained warriors. He’s probably picked up a few things over the years.

As for the others, Aro is described as frail-looking, which hints at him being quite thin. I don’t think he’s weak, if he couldn’t win a fight he wouldn’t be around, but I do think he’s probably below average in terms of strength. Caius I picture as a Harrison Ford type, so of course I’m gonna think he’s a bit burly, but this is me headcanoning and not actually hinted at in canon. Marcus is 19, so I imagine he can only be so strong.

Back to Edward’s speed.

He’s a 6′2″ teen, that’s code for “very long legs”, though I’m actually going to go ahead and posit that he’s not actually that fast. Strap in for this next part:

The guy was a teenager who lay dying for an undisclosed amount of time. The fact that Carlisle had the time to get to know his mother points to a few weeks, at least. And Edward was very ill:

Elizabeth worried obsessively over her son. She hurt her own chances of survival trying to nurse him from her sickbed. I expected that he would go first, he was so much worse off than she was. (New Moon, page 21)

Muscles atrophy quickly, never more so than when you’re a teen ravaged by fever, on your deathbed. And as I’ve explained above, I think your physique in life ties directly into your vampiric prowess.

I think Edward is certainly the physically weakest of the male Cullens, quite likely weaker than Rosalie as well, maybe even Esme.

Now, speed is not the same as strength. However, for humans, the two are connected. It’s the muscle fibers in our legs that determine our speed. Basically, type I fibers make an enduring runner, type II fibers make a speed runner. So, assuming that vampires retain their human musculature, one could argue that Edward had a lot of type II in life. However, Carlisle when he was human was able to outrun the mob he was with:

He ran through the streets, and Carlisle — he was twenty-three and very fast — was in the lead of the pursuit. (Twilight, page 158)

Carlisle clearly had a lot of type II fibers, and unlike Edward he was in peak physical condition when he died. He was also an adult who’d had more time to develop musculature, while Edward was a seventeen-year-old. If musculature was a deciding factor, one would think they would at the very least be of equal speed, though realistically Edward should be slower.

So, if it’s not muscles, what is it that makes Edward faster than the others?

It could be a matter of technique. Except, the way Bella describes movement when she wakes up as a vampire, it’s all very automated. Her body knows exactly how to do everything, and executes it without much input from her:

After that first frozen second of shock, my body responded to the unfamiliar touch in a way that shocked me even more.

Air hissed up my throat, spitting through my clenched teeth with a low, menacing sound like a swarm of bees. Before the sound was out, my muscles bunched and arched, twisting away from the unknown. I flipped off my back in a spin so fast it should have turned the room into an incomprehensible blur—but it did not. I saw every dust mote, every splinter in the wood-paneled walls, every loose thread in microscopic detail as my eyes whirled past them.

So by the time I found myself crouched against the wall defensively—about a sixteenth of a second later—I already understood what had startled me, and that I had overreacted. (Breaking Dawn, page 251-252)

Growling, crouching - those are all distinctly vampiric, non-human ways to act. Bella didn’t learn this, her body knew it of its own accord. When she later runs, she explains it as happening the same way - she just does it.

The way Bella experiences it, vampiric movement is like a package she downloaded, and that executes her instinctual commands with no need for her to actually know how to do any of this. Her grace is another example of this - Bella Swan may be in charge of her own consciousness, but the venom is entirely in control of her body.

Given these facts, I don’t think it’s technique that makes Edward a better runner than others. His technique is likely similar to everyone else’s. If it isn’t, if technique is what makes the difference, then who is and isn’t fast is an arbitrary process.

With that, we get to my controversial theory about why Edward is the fastest Cullen: he’s not.

Running and being fast is the only thing about vampirism that Edward enjoys. This is for another meta, but Edward is extremely depressed about every single other bit of it. Every aspect of being a vampire torments him.

Except the running. He enjoys all of it, especially being the fastest, so much. And as a newborn, he would have been faster than Carlisle.

But after that, when his newborn strength faded…

I honestly think that Carlisle decided to just slow down a bit when running with him, let Edward have this. It’s no skin of his back, and it makes Edward happy, so why not.

Esme joins the family, and of course she would be down for this. Nothing is more parental, more maternal, than losing at checkers to make your child happy, after all. Could also be she’s not very fast herself, but even if she were then she would downplay it to make Edward feel like Jesse Owens.

Enter Rosalie, who would think it’s completely ridiculous, yes, but she would also recognize this excellent opportunity to call in a big favor from Carlisle later on. There’s also the fact that I think Carlisle has a gift (yes, yes, meta is coming, people) that makes him very persuasive people. And also that for all that Rose gets a lot of bad rep, she is very generous and loves her family, if being fast makes Edward happy then alright.

Emmett is an easy-going guy, he goes along with things. Alice adores Edward and would go along with it. She also has tiny matchstick legs and couldn’t outrun him if she tried. Jasper could not care less.

Bella does get outrun by Edward after waking up, but she also did zero exercise in life (listing this in case musculature matter), had Renesmée devour her from within rendering her emaciated, and then died like a slasher movie murder victim. There’s not a lot of blood in her, and what little blood there is doesn’t have a lot to work with. She does defeat Emmett at arm wrestling, so I’ll concede that. However, there are enough extenuating circumstances surrounding Bella that I think my “Edward isn’t that fast” theory survives his ability to outrun her.

So, I believe Edward is the fast Cullen because Carlisle told a white lie in 1919, no one ever corrected that, and now it’s too late.

[helpimhyperfixating]

Help with the Horde - Jotaro x Reader

This is a bit of an older one but decided to post it anyways :) CW: Mild Yandere if you squint.

Word Count: 1782

"Honestly, Jotaro, I don't know how you do it with all your fangirls."

"I don't know how they can't seem to get the hint." He grumbled and that made you giggle light-heartedly.

"I wish I could help in some way. I really do. But unfortunately, I have no experience in running away a horde of avid fangirls." You joked but Jotaro on the other hand, leaned a bit closer to you, bringing his lips to your ear.

"I know of a way how you can help me with them."

"Oh?" You perked up, interested to know his idea. If there was any way you could help, you'd gladly do so!

"It might not help in the grand scheme of things but it would certainly help me." He said in a low voice and your eyes widened slightly, unsure if he was implying what you think he was implying.

With a sly smirk, Jotaro took hold of your waist and pulled you onto his lap so that you were straddling him. "J-Jotaro?" You squeaked slightly, earning a chuckle from the delinquent.

"What're you-? What is-? What?" You rambled, unable to form a coherent sentence or even thought.

"You haven't figured it out already?" He teasingly asked.

Since when was this man so playful?! Was what shot through your head as you had your hands on his shoulders, unsure of what was happening. Unexpectedly, he shifted you even closer to himself on his lap; wrapping one arm around the small of your back to press your stomach into his, subsequently bringing both your faces closer.

You now had no way to avoid looking into his aquamarine eyes, seeing him carefully tracing over your face - mapping every single part of your skin as if to remember this moment forever.

"This however-" He started, his warm breath gently gliding over your skin from your closeness. "-should work perfectly in the grand scheme of things." With no other words said, Jotaro bridged the small gap between your faces and pressed his lips to yours, closing his eyes and tilting his head so that his hat wouldn't get in the way.

Your heart started sporadically beating in your chest the moment his lips came into contact with yours. For a second you wondered if this was just a way to get the fangirls off his back but the way he pressed even firmer against your lips quickly drove that thought away, making you melt into the kiss.

Feeling you finally giving in, Jotaro brought his left hand - that was not holding you close by being wrapped around the small of your back - up to cup your jaw, tilting it to his desired angle so that he could deepen the kiss, sucking on your lips slightly.

This made you make a noise in surprise, sounding not unlike a groan, and Jotaro's arm around you pressed even harder - if that was possible; him shifting his hips slightly as well.

Breaking the kiss, Jotaro moved his head back but only a little, his arm never letting up and him never letting you move away.

"Y/N, I love you. Be mine."

He asked and you might as well have fainted right then and there if you had not been lost in his eyes, the life and vigour in them grounding you and keeping you stable enough to keep your head.

"O- I... love you too. Okay." You responded to his question and he pulled your head closer again, kissing you once more.

The arm around your body ended with his hand on your hip and the boy now slyly slid his hand down to rest at the hem of your pants, pushing his thumb under the material so that he could hold onto it, feeling your warm skin against his digit.

He might not have shown it but Jotaro was in pure ecstasy right now. Not only did you just confess to loving him back, but he had you on top of him, feeling your body pressed against his own as he felt your soft and supple skin under his hand, your plump lips pressed against his own in a kiss he never wanted to break.

You on the other hand were only feeling pure delight as butterflies crashed through your chest. Not only did Jotaro, your lifelong friend and longtime crush, school delinquent and heartthrob to masses, just admit to having feelings for you, but now he had pulled you on top of him and started kissing you. You never took him for PDA but then again, you were on the rooftop and the only other people there were his fangirls, so maybe he was doing this within their line of sight on purpose.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jotaro finally pulled away again, letting up. His breath was a little ragged and it caused you to blush even deeper than you already were, breathing heavily yourself.

The delinquent took in the way you looked now, with your dark and flustered face - only for him, and your slightly swollen lips from where he sucked and kissed them. It nearly drove him mad at just the sight.

"Fuck, if we weren't at school right now, I would mark you as mine so fast." He growled a near animalistic growl, pushing your upper body against himself as he buried his head in your neck, breathing in lightly.

If kissing Jotaro just now wasn't enough to make you flustered beyond compare, his possessive and lustful statement sure was.

With his head buried in your shoulder and neck, you just wrapped your own arms a little tighter around the boy, entangling one of your hands in the hair at the back of his neck, just trying to find an anchor to make sure what was happening was actually real.

"Y/N..." His voice was so quiet, partially muffled by your own skin even, that you nearly missed what he said. "I've wanted to do this for so long. You have no idea how long I've waited." You felt his lips move against the nape of your neck, quickly followed by a small, barely noticeable kiss pressed to your skin. "I love you." Another kiss. "I want you..." he now turned his head just a fraction so that he was directly lined up with your neck, softly dragging his teeth down your skin; from the underside of your chin all the way down to your collarbone. "...all to myself." He nibbled softly, making your breath hitch.

"J-Jotaro?"

He lifted his head, gazing into your eyes. "What?"

"We-we're at school, your fangirls are right around the corner, watching." You whispered, sounding a little panicked.

"Let them watch." He smirked. "They'll know not to mess with either of us anymore."

Just seeing that man's smirk was enough to kill you and any rational thought you might have had.

He pressed a shorter kiss to your mouth before moving his lips to the shell of your ear and whispering. "Besides, I can't wait entirely anymore. You drive me crazy, Y/N. No one ever has before." With that he dove back down to your neck, only this time, he brought his hand up and slightly pulled your shirt aside, exposing your collar bone to him.

"E-Eh?" You started, attempting to bring your hands up to pull your shirt back normally, but Star Platinum came out and held your hands together, still stuck around Jotaro's neck.

"Ssh." Jotaro shushed you, the sound almost hypnotic to your ears. "I won't do something you don't want." He whispered, slowly starting to trail kisses from the nape of your neck to your now exposed collarbone, previously hidden behind your shirt.

"Jo-Jotaro..." You sighed out, a little ashamed for liking the feeling of his lips fluttering over your skin.

"Mhm." Jotaro hummed, liking the sound of you saying his name like that.

This was all new territory for the both of you, but by god, after years of unknowingly pining for each other, it needed to come out.

Jotaro continued to hold your shirt aside slightly to make room for himself. Finally happy with the spot he reached, he let his tongue slither out, lapping at your skin before he softly started sucking, turning a little more firm after a few seconds.

Your breathing turned a bit ragged as you tried to keep your composure while Jotaro was abusing your skin.

Not happy with you staying so quiet, he suddenly bit and you let out a squeak, satisfying the teen as he let go and licked over the mark as if to soothe it.

Nibbling for a few seconds longer, Jotaro eventually just held your skin gently between his teeth for a second, savouring having his face pressed against you as you were practically clinging to his neck.

Finally figuring that was enough, he let go and backed up a little bit, still holding your shirt to the side to expose the spot he had just been attacking, satisfied to see a rather large hickey had now formed. He admired it for a few seconds longer before pressing a soft kiss to it and letting your shirt go, allowing it to fall back to its usual position where it now covered up the bruise Jotaro had just given you.

"Was that necessary?" You asked, looking off to the side as you felt incredibly embarrassed and flustered.

Jotaro just grabbed your chin and made you look at him, now seeing the smirk on his face. "Very." He said before pressing his lips to yours once more. The last one before the school bell rang, signalling break was over.

Upon hearing the shrill sound, you broke the kiss and looked up as if looking for where the noise came from, not noticing Jotaro's annoyed look at you for pulling away too soon for his liking. "Oh, we wasted the entire lunch break." You spoke as you then looked back down at him, looking a little sip.

"I wouldn't say we wasted it." The delinquent stood up with you, whispering that in your ear as he did, now towering over you again. "Come to my house after school with me, I'd still like you to help me with those fangirls."

Yup, you were now sure that that was exactly what he was insinuating now. But then again, you had wanted this for a while, so who were you to say no. Following your new boyfriend to the next class, your mind couldn't help but wander to what just transpired, making you blush furiously as you followed the tall delinquent, only to blush even harder - but in embarrassment - when your stomach growled loudly.

[ninamitoo]

FALLING

HPhogwartsmystery - Talbott Winger x Reader

Author‘s note: This is supposed to be a one-shot but since there aren’t many stories about Talbott x reader I’ll be posting 2nd and 3rd part (if you’ll be interested).  Also English isn’t my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes.

Wordcount: 1200

Pairing: Talbott Winger x reader / MC / Y/N (your name)

I first became aware of Talbott Winger thanks to a coincidence. Back than I had never imagined that this boy could get under my skin so quickly. I could say it all started thanks to Tulip.

It was a normal day. I came to the Great Hall and saw Tulip standing with Barnaby at the very end. The sight of the two of them together was more than unusual, so I decided to investigate.

”Hi Y/N. Barnaby and I were just discussing Talbott Winger.” Tulip greeted me. When I asked who he is the answer was “a Ravenclaw who keeps to himself.”

”They also say his dad is a vampire, and his mum is a mermaid!” Barnaby joined the conversation with a disturbing look on his face. Looks like I'm not the only one with strange rumors circulating around school. What actually caught my attention was the fact that he’s attempting to brew an Animagus Potion. Since the first lesson with professor McGonagall I have dreamed about becoming an Animagus myself. Maybe if I talked Talbott into brewing an extra Animagus Potion for me, I can finally fulfill one of my dreams. Not to mention how much easier it’d be to sneak around school in animal form…

”He’ll shut you down.” Tulip crushed my completely bulletproof plan. ”It might be best to ask around about him first…“ Suggested Barnaby. Since it was a good idea I started asking about Talbott everyone who was still in the Great Hall. Unfortunately, he was sitting a few feet away from me, and as I found out later, he heard everything.

”If you want to know something about me, just ask.“ He says as soon as I sit across from him. He took me by surprise. Not knowing what to say I blurted out the first thing which came to my mind: ”How did you know I was talking about you?“

”My hearing is almost as good as my eyesight.“ He asnwers without any emotion. ”Besides, I’m used to people talking about me.“ How can I relate to that… I decided not to beat around the bush and straightforward asked if he was brewing an Animagus Potion, however he denied it. His cold response told me not to push any further and with a quiet sorry to bother you, I got up to leave. His next sentence stoped me. ”Is it true you sneaked into Filch’s Office?“ Not wanting to incriminate myself, I lied. ”No. Why? Do you want to get in?“

”I’m collectong things for a mutual friend of ours.“ He vaguely answered. ”We have a mutual friend?“

”You’re probably surprised I have any friends at all…“ Did I just hear a hint of pain in his voice? ”No, not really. Everyone has friends and with everything I’ve seen at Hogwarts, nothing surprises me anymore.“ I shruged with my shoulders to seem like I don’t really think much of it, but in reality I secretly hoped my answer will comfort him. I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to be sad. ”We’ll see about that.“ Talbott said. A little smirk appearing on his face.

”What do you mean?“

”Let’s go Y/N L/N. You can show me how you definitely did not sneak into Filch’s office.“ And just like that I fell into a trap called Talbott Winger. With each passing day I wanted to know more about him, what he likes, what is he doing. When I was able to conjure a smile on his face, it was the best feeling I had experienced. Much better than when we won first Quidditch Cup. But… He didn’t saw me as a friend. Not until I pushed him into allowing me to help find his lost necklace. That’s when he finally admited, he sees me as a friend. As someone he can trust and rely on. When I heard him say these words, my heart made a few somersaults. In that very moment I realised I don't fancy him anymore. I have totally fallen for him.

                                                       *******

One particular night I couldn’t fall asleep. I decided I’ll tire myself out by going on a fly around the castle. After putting on a sweatshirt and shoes, I shifted into my animagus form and flew through the open window. After flying for several minutes I noticed a very familiar looking eagle heading fot the owlery. With a graceful movement of my wings I change direction and follow my new friend. When I land, I transform back into my human form, but Talbott still remains in his animal. He is resting on one of the loose perches, looking at me curiously.

”I couldn’t sleep.“ I answer his silent question, taking a few steps forward, shortening the distance between us. His feathers shine beautifully in the moonlight. I couldn't resist the urge to touch his plumage. I lightly touch the side of his wing.

”Your feathers looks really beautiful.“ I whisper into the dark night not entirely sure if I didn't cross the border. His pupil narrows in surprise. His body gets surrounded by a yellowish glow, and I realise too late that he is transforming back into his human form. Surprised, I don't have time to dodge and within a second I find myself face to face with his firm chest. His pleasant scent immediately surrounds me, and I realize that I am absorbing it voraciously in an effort to remember it. He must have noticed. This got awkward really quickly… With a shy sorry i take a few steps back and look up at him. His look took my embarrassment to a whole new level. He was covering his face with his hand, furiously averting his gaze. Is he blushing?

”Did you…“ His voice was a pitch lower than usual. After clearing his throat he looked down at me. Yep, he was definitely blushing. ”Do you really think that?“ I felt my cheeks begin to burn. ”Yes… I do.“ I honestly answer unable to look him in the eye. The last time I confessed my feelings it didn’t go exactly well. Thank goodness I erased his memories.

”Do I look good only in my Animagus form?“ He asks. Something in his voice forced me to look at him. He was serious. He needed to know. The request in his eyes told me I have to tell him the truth. Now or never.

With a shaky breath I compose myself. ”No. I think you look very handsome every time I see you.“ After hearing my response his cheeks darkened with deep red. A mischievous grin curls his mouth into a smile. Why does he looks like he just won?

”Good to know.“ He simply answers lovering himself to my heigh. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear with his hand, looking directly into my eyes. His hot breath tickled my lobe. ”I think you look absolutely gorgeous yourself.“ And with that, he transformed back into an eagle and left.

The heart impetuously beats for the boy who just gave her hope.

”Falling in love with him I hadn’t expected. But being in love with him is something I couldn’t stop even if I tried.“

[issaxcharlie]

Spectacular!

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Inspired by Nickelodeon’s Spectacular! Luke Patterson needs the money for his bands demo, and miraculously, that same night he gets an offer to fix his problem. The catch? Rockstar boy has to join his school’s show choir and put up with their fearless Female Lead Singer. (don’t come here searching for accuracy remember it’s inspired by a movie)

Note: I had a lot of fun with this one, hope you like it! Oh and it’s a little long so keep it in mind +8k👀💜

Say this is not her scene would be to fall short, but she has to make sacrifices to find greatness. The first thing she notices when she walks into the little club, is that it's packed. The people look excited and somewhat desperate and she doesn't blame them. The pamphlet marked they were supposed to start at 8:00 p.m. and it's already 8:40. She makes her way carefully until she finds a perfect place in the middle of the room.

The musicians take the stage visibly anxious, especially Alex who cannot stop moving his hands trying to probably calm himself down. Reggie and the rhythm guitarist take their positions. They look at each other one last time before beginning to play the enveloping sound of the pop-rock song. The bass line sounds insane and she hasn't heard Alex play drums in years, he’s exceptional. They could both play without their singer all night and she wouldn't mind.

The space in the center of the stage that belongs to who she came to see today, completely empty. The bassist seems about to take the first verse when Sunset Curve lead guitarist and vocalist Luke Patterson appears on stage.

She has seen him multiple times in the hallways laughing with her childhood best friend, Alex Mercer and her lab partner, Reggie Peters, but she has never spoken directly to him. Still, it's hard not to notice how handsome he is and how much of a charismatic personality he has.

“I'm living my life just the way I like, they say I get a little too loud. Try to push me in a box, over analyze. But I'm never gunna turn it down”

His voice is enchanting and mesmerizing, a sound that immediately reminds her of the best rockers in history and his movements and energy are electrifying. In seconds the entire audience is jumping and dancing to the beat.

“They say never and I say right now!” Y/N analyzes him excitedly. The passion with which he sings and plays his guitar reminds her of when she is on stage, although the two of them dedicate themselves to totally different things, their love for music is the same. She definitely has a lot of work to do to polish him and make him the perfect performer she needs, but if there's anyone who can accomplish the impossible, it's her.

“No one's gonna stop me tonight! Thank you, we are Sunset Curve, tell your friends!” The presentation ends and Sunset Curve leaves the stage. The girl moves quickly to catch up with them at the back of the club, but when she finally arrives, screams can be heard from two of the members of the band.

“I know you don’t like me, Bobby. But trying to sabotage the show by giving me the wrong time is just the most stupidest thing you've ever done!” The guitarist looks furious, his muscles are really tense and Y/N can't help staring at his biceps way more than she probably should.

"This fight of egos between the two of you has to stop, we can no longer continue to be in the middle." The bassist cries out, tired of all the bickering.

“You no longer have to, Reggie. It’s time to decide. The lousy rocker or me. Remember that the money for the demo is mine before choosing... I'm not sure Patterson's lyrics can compete without the money to record them.”

The guitarist looks down at the ground, a mixture of anger and sadness on his face. Alex and Reggie turn to see each other for a second and then position themselves on either side of Luke, no sign of doubt on their faces.

“We’ll find a way without you. Let’s see If you find one without us.” Reggie declared with a little smirk. Bobby grabs his stuff and gets into his truck without looking back, completely furious.

"Some things Bobby was angry about are true and you have to improve them. You are not a solo artist, you are part of a band." Alex points to Luke as soon as the truck is out of sight, but before he can respond the blonde intercepts the girl at the door.

“Y/N?” The three of them turn to see her, Reggie smiles at her while Luke looks pissed off.

“Hey guys, I came to talk to Luke.” Luke frowns in surprise while the other two gape for a few seconds.

"Really?” Y/N turns with a murderous face towards her friend, who puts his hands in his pockets and begins to walk. “...Okay. Meanwhile Reg and I are going to figure out how to get the drums in Luke's car."

"If you come for an autograph please be quick, I don't feel like socializing." The guitarist declares to the wind, not wanting to pay attention to the stranger who approaches him in the middle of the alley, no matter how cute she looks.

“I’m not a fan.” She confesses in a firm voice, trying to measure the situation.

"Oh, then I'll go. See you later beautiful." He's about to leave when her voice stops him.

“Patterson, come back here!” There's something about her tone that makes Luke suddenly interested. He turns to see her carefully, her chin is up, her shoulders back. Her lips are press together and her eyes look determined and he can't help but admit that the confidence she projects is really doing something to him.

“2 minutes, firecracker.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L.” Faced with no comment from the guitarist, she decides to continue. “I need a male lead singer for my group and I think you might be the perfect fit, after I'm done with you, of course."

He’s unable to believe what he hears. “A band? I think you know pretty well I'm already in one.”

“It’s not a band, it’s a group. THE group If I can say so myself. Spectacular!” She affirms with the first smile he sees her that night, and he can't believe it is possible that she can look even more beautiful.

"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit with the spectacular thing? At least tell me the name or what kind of band is." She rolls her eyes and he chuckles in response, thinking it was adorable and hot at the same time.

“I already told you, Spectacular! It’s a show choir.”

“Is this a joke? Did Bobby sent you?”

“No and no. I know it’s not really your style, but I’m telling you I can make it work. I heard a bit of the conversation you had with the band, the prize of Nationals is 10,000 dollars. I'm willing to give you half for the demo, if we win, obviously. And I can assure you we will if you accept and do absolutely everything I say.”

“Firecracker, are you trying to tell me that all I have to do to raise the money is put on some stupid cowboy or tiger-print outfit and humiliate myself in front of an entire audience with my best jazz hands? Wow, sounds like a dream!” Maybe he got a bit too sarcastic, but meh, as pretty as she is, she's still a stranger.

“My name is Y/N, and I'm not appreciating your tone of voice.” By this moment the girl seems tired of the musician, who feels the frustration in her and tries to be more gentle.

“I- I’m sorry. Thanks for the offer, but I don't feel as desperate yet as to end my reputation in that way. I hope you find what you are looking for, but that’s just not me. I'm just a guitarist.” She nods, entwining her arms against her chest. He admires her for a few more seconds and turns to his car, where his friends are already waiting for him to help with the drums.

Before getting behind the wheel he turns to her one last time, but she is nowhere to be seen.

Fights between Luke and Bobby weren't new to the band. The big-headed attitude of both collided practically all the time and things had been getting worse in recent months with the more overconfident attitude of the guitarist, but they never imagined that they would end up in this situation.

The days go by and the boys are running out of time. They have to deliver the demo to the Orpheum offices in two months so that they can be taken into account for the great concert they will hold at the end of the year presenting the best new talents in the city. All they've heard from Bobby is that he's trying to build his own band but without much success. Still, he doesn’t fold his hands and continues to try on his own.

The three remaining members of Sunset Curve are in Alex's room lying on the floor with their instruments around trying to think of solutions, when Y/N's voice coming from outside refreshes the blonde's memory. “What did Y/N want to talk to you the other day?”

“Who?” Luke narrows his eyes in confusion.

“Y/N? The captain of the school’s show choir? She went to talk to you after Bobby left the band. Small, fire in her eyes, a lot of attitude.”

“OH, Firecracker! So that group is our school's choir? that's even worse. She tried to recruit me, even offered me the money for the demo if we win the competition in which they will participate.”

“What? She wants you in Spectacular? What did you said?” Alex heard that his friend's ex-boyfriend broke up with her and joined last year's national champions, but he never imagined that she would try to replace him with someone like Luke. Luke is distracted by a melody and doesn’t answer his friend's question.

"Why does your mom always leave her music on when she leaves to work?" The music is definitely not his style, they are always usually pop songs or even songs from musicals, but the singer's voice is one of the most beautiful he has ever heard so it never bothers him.

“It’s not her music, is Y/N.” Alex responds, wondering what the young woman is up to since she is never usually home at this hour.

“Who?” Alex's eyes widen, not able to believe his friend.

“Really? I already told you!” The guitarist tilts his head and shrugs. “Firecracker?”

“What does firecracker have to do with this?” Alex opens his balcony curtains and the silhouette of a young woman singing and dancing through her transparent pink ones comes to their visions.

“She’s so good bro, I thought it was a record too.” Reggie looks at her with a big smile as Alex rolls his eyes at Luke.

As soon as he sees her, the musician is in a trance, admiring the grace and energy with which she moves, wanting with all his might to remove the pink curtain that does not allow him to see her properly.

The song ends and a well-known melody begins to play with prominent bass and drums. “Guys, shut up! I’m trying to hear her sing.”

“It’s not us, man.” Reggie answers almost screaming with how loud the girl’s music is.

“What do you-” Luke turns around and sees his friends with their hands raised, the cables finally connecting in his brain. "She is listening our song?"

"Not just listening, she's also destroying your career, her vocals are amazing." The black-haired boy adds, smirking and running to connect his bass.

Luke excitedly opens the balcony window and sings the pre-chorus as loud as he can to get the singer's attention. “Call me in the morning to apologize, every little lie gives me butterflies.” She immediately turns around and smiles at the guitarist's cocky smile. She opens the curtain and the window and her sunset curve t-shirt is the first thing the band notices.

“Something in the way you're looking through my eyes, don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive.” Luke sings seductively towards her, each word fully dedicated to the woman in front of him.

Reggie accompanies them with his bass while Alex looks at his friends incredulously, an "Are you fucking kidding me." Comes out of the blonde almost like a whisper when he identifies the shirt that the girl wears as his.

Both sing the chorus together and the chemistry is unquestionable. Alex had never thought of this two together because at first glance they seem completely different, but thinking about it a little more deeply they couldn't be more similar. They are both passionate, headstrong, live for the stage, and are ridiculously talented and confident.

“Fight so dirty, but you love so sweet. Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth. Late night devil, put your hands on me. And never, never, never ever let go.”

The performance between the duo is playful, driving, sexy and intense and Alex and Reggie can't help but feel like they're interrupting a private moment. As soon as the song ends, the girl moves closer to the window, blows them a kiss and closes it.

"Where did that woman come from?" Luke whispers as he tries to catch his breath. Nobody had enchanted him so much just by singing, well, nobody had enchanted him, period. But she’s definitely something.

“She has been my neighbor since we were 6 years old, we used to be best friends but we both drifted apart when we entered high school. She’s amazing, the best performer in the city.” Alex informs him and then Reggie adds his own piece of valuable information. “She’s my lab partner. Fun, smart, beautiful, the whole deal. A true gem.”

“Answering your question, I said no to her offer. But I guess the group of someone this rad can't be that bad. And we really need the money." The drummer purses his lips and nods. His friend definitely took the hook.

"Honestly, I always wanted to audition, I guess the three of us could try in, to support you obviously."

“Of course man, she sounded desperate when she asked, and if the shirt and song is any indication she is definitely a huge Sunset Curve fan. She tried to fool me by saying she wasn't a groupie, as if that was possible after seeing us perform.”

His friends leave the house and Alex plays on the drums the secret signal he had with the girl when they were younger, a minute later the girl appears in her window with an amusing smile, dressed in her classic blue pajamas.

“Really?” The drummer chuckled and his friend’s smile grows even bigger, a little laugh leaving her lips. “The shirt was a nice touch. A little much, but that idiot must have fallen for it completely. I want it back by the way.”

“You can see right through me. You know the invitation is open, right? I would love nothing more than to have you there.” He has known her his whole life, and realized early on that she was just trying to get his friend's attention to reconsider her offer by raising his ego, and he honestly doesn't mind. It's about time Luke met someone of his caliber. Perhaps her influence could do him good.

“I- thank you. I guess we’ll see. See you tomorrow.” She blows him a kiss and closes the window. Tomorrow sure is going to be an interesting day, Sunset Curve joins Spectacular.

Having to face Spectacular! And telling them they still don't have a male lead singer who can compete against Damian was not easy. Her options are running out and she honestly doesn't know what to do to save them.

Damian on stage is the best, it pains her to admit that she has never seen anyone like him. At first she thought she could continue without him, but it’s becoming increasingly obvious that he is just impossible to replace.

Everyone continues to practice the routine, clearly discouraged after her bad news and it honestly breaks her heart. She knows how much the group means to everyone for different and personal reasons and she can't let them lose this. So whatever she has to do, she’ll do it so they can have the leader they deserve.

“I thought the children in the choir would have more energy, this is just sad, firecracker.” She hides her wide smile before turning to the owner of the voice, who is entering the auditorium with his best friends. Money really talks, otherwise she can't explain what would make him appear here.

“Dude, can you please play nice? This is important!” Reggie looks flustered and scolds Luke probably louder than he planned. The guitarist just ignores him and winks shamelessly at her. Seems her little plan from yesterday was successful, now she just has to play the situation in her favor.

“Mercer, Peters... Patterson. Can we help you with something?” The performer shows a perfect poker face, Spectacular continues to practice but they can't help but turn their attention to the rock band.

“I came to accept your proposal, but only If we can include Reggie and Alex in the deal. I guess as long as I’m in whatever I ask shouldn't be a problem." He crosses his arms and gives her a confident smile.

“I could actually do with a few more members, specially as talented as Reg and Alex. As for you, you've already turned down my offer Lucas, but if for some reason you don't graduate this year, make sure you audition the next one. Now, let’s start boys." Y/N moves within inches of Luke to gently close his open mouth with her index finger, and gives him a small wink before turning and taking the other two musicians each on each arm and pulling them closer to where the group is still practicing.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious.” The skilled singer continues to ignore him as she explains to her new members something Luke can't quite hear.

The musician frustrates and walks until he is directly in front of her. “Y/N” He groans.

“I'm not firecracker anymore? That is just sad.” Luke looks upset, but she's determined to not let him have what he wants after what he said at the club, so if he wants the money that bad he's going to have to prove it.

“I’m going to explain you something quickly so you can go and stop wasting my time. I’ve seen your band play, I know how good these two are at singing, which means I don't need you anymore, nor do I have to put up with your rockstar wannabee attitude. I need someone that I can connect with and have the chemistry that leaves everyone forgetting how to breathe, and after yesterday, I just don't think that's you.” Right now she is grateful to be such a good actress because yesterday's act melted her legs, even though they were separated by the balconies. This man is unreal, totally unfair.

"I do, I wouldn't be surprised if they kissed at any moment." The bassist whispers as Alex looks at him with an incredulous face, he just slowly shakes his head from side to side and continues to see the leader of their band and their new leader in a starting contest, is kind of an amusing sight since Luke is definitely not used to having to face someone like him.

“It’s like you said, you are just a guitarist. Thinking you could handle something like this was ridiculous of me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a group to direct."

Y/N hopes she hasn't pushed the rockstar too much, but remains firm in her tactics and turns to the others to continue with the rehearsal. She signals them to put the most similar song to the Sunset Curve sound that she can remember at the moment to make Alex and Reggie feel more calm and to see if she finishes catching Luke’s interest, who still doesn’t move from where he is with his eyes fixed on her, which she takes as as a good sign.

The moment the song start, both sunset curve members smile, and Luke's voice is heard from behind. “So you're the girl, I heard the rumor.” He sounds powerful and captivating and immediately sets everyone's eyes on him. She doesn’t give him the luxury of turning to see him, but he is not going to give up and in a quick and agile movement he turns her by the hand.

“Why don't you break my heart, make it hurt so bad. Come on give it your best, nothing less, I insist, I want it just like that.” The girl should have thought more about her choice before asking for a song like this. Every word that comes out of the musician's mouth is addressed directly to her with an intensity in his eyes and movements that should be illegal.

She tries to get out of his way but he makes it pretty clear that he's not singing to prove himself to the group, he's doing it to prove something to her. Specifically, to prove her wrong.

“Stare me down, intimidate me. Oh baby please you'll never break me.” He comes dangerously close to her, basically inches apart, his eyes fixed on her lips and smiling flirtatiously as he sings, his eyes glinting mischievously.

She enters the song so as not to make him feel like she’s defeated and starts dancing with him to the rhythm, their movements matching effortlessly as they move across the stage.

She pulls herself back as far as she can, but Luke surprises everyone by doing a body roll on the floor, his arms looking more gorgeous than ever in that sleeveless shirt as they take the full weight of his body without any problem, his eyes never losing contact with hers. All the girls start to do small screams while Y/N's cheeks turn red at her thoughts. He slides on his knees towards her and gets up as he puts his foot on her to make her lose balance and catch her right at the end of the song.

“Why don’t you break my heart.” They've been in a trance since the song started and it's like it's just the two of them in the auditorium. Their lips are almost touching, neither willing to give up eye contact or move from their current position, until the applause and shouts of excitement bring them back to reality.

“I have chemistry with everybody that I sing with, firecracker.” He whispers to her lips before shifting the girl's full weight to his right arm to raise his left one to her face and carefully close her mouth with his finger, winking with a cocky smile before lifting her up.

Immediately everyone begins to advocate for him with all kinds of arguments that ranged from how sensual he was to how much of a presence he had on stage. Her best friend’s comment is the one that catches his attention the most. "You have even more chemistry with him than Damian, I didn't think it was possible." That definitely sounds interesting.

Y/N pretends to listen to her teammates before saying Luke can enter the group. The truth is that she knew from the first moment she saw him perform with Sunset Curve that he was a star, but this facet without the guitar and irradiating passion from his pores was something that left her speechless.

Still, she knew all the work that would go into preparing the band and it really was exhausting. For them to understand that they couldn't just sing like they do at the club, that there are rules to follow, dance steps they have to learn, facial expressions they have to master, notes they have to hit perfectly, wasn’t easy but they succeeded.

Along the way, she regained her bond with Alexander, her friendship with Reggie grew stronger, and each day she felt closer to Luke. She has been practicing a duet with him for weeks now, and the chemistry that they have set to burn the stage more than once. It was hard for her to ignore how the guitarist's hands feel on her thighs as he lifts her or the way he wraps himself around her, breathing softly down her neck or brushing his lips teasingly over her cheekbone. Both are very physical to show affection so small contacts such as hugs or caresses, as well as small kisses on the cheek or hand were very recurrent. They had also gone out multiple times alone and with their friends, from the cinema, the park, to see them play, to small parties at home, to midnight talks.

Reggie was the one who had her alone the most because they were lab partners, but no matter how hard the bassist tried to get information from the girl, he never succeeded. The truth is that not even she knows what is happening with the guitarist, she is for the first time in her life letting herself be carried away and enjoying the moment, and she’s loving it.

Luke and Alex are in detention after the brown haired boy made a mess in the classroom by putting together a little concert with the help of the blonde, and as they die of boredom, his mind can’t help to go to her for the 14th time of the day. "How did she end up in the show choir?"

Alex is blank for a few seconds but analyzes the question and realizes who they are talking about. “Spectacular used to be the most important show choir in the country, led by her mother, may she rest in peace. Y/N always wanted to be a part of it and when she lost her, it became a goal. She suffered a lot to get to the perfect star we see today, especially because her father is rarely there since he works outside the country. She has practically had to face alone auditions, injuries, she had to learn to sew, comb her hair and put on makeup for the show, sing for hours her solos with no one to encourage her, without mention that the current director could not care less about the group and practically leaves all the work to her. That’s why she’s so be fearless, she kind of has to."

“I didn’t know.” The sight of Y/N as happy as ever with his mother when he took her home for lunch the week before appears in his memory. She looked radiant as she ate his mother's famous stew and listened to stories of little Luke as he gently stroked her thigh while songwriting with his other hand. When was the last time she got to experience something as homelike as that? Luke probably doesn’t want to know.

Alex's sad voice brings him back to the conversation.“I was supposed to be there, you know? At first I was. We were going to audition for Spectacular together, but that summer I met you and Sunset Curve was born, and I didn’t have the time anymore so I abandoned her. I knew how important it was for her to have me there, and I didn't even go to her audition. And do you know how many times she has reproached me? Not even one.”

Luke knows that Alex would never hurt her on purpose and that the situation was probably much more complicated than he expresses it, so he reassures him and lets him know that she loves him and is proud that he took his own path. As soon as the blonde calms down, he begins to tell him multiple stories about when he and the girl were kids, the songwriter takes out his journal and begins to add lyrics to the song he has been working on, more inspired than ever.

“You are falling so deeply for her, man. I’m happy for you both.” His friend comments to him while reading the verses written on the paper. He totally is.

“Bowling, nice. I'm going to finish you off, Patterson.”

“As sexy as your confidence sounds, I'm not going to let you win.”

“I'm pretty sure you've never gone bowling.” Alex adds with furrowed eyebrows.

“Your point is, Mercer?” She wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue. Reggie chuckles amused.

"How can you be so sure that you are going to win?"

“Oh, my dear cute blonde. I’m good at everything.” She makes a slight remark on everything with her eyes fixed on the guitarist, who chokes while blushing.

She smiles cheekily at him and confidently steps into the room, Sunset Curve behind as Alex and Reggie tease Luke for being completely whipped.

Happiness doesn't last long when the first thing they see inside is Damian Miller along with a couple of his new teammates. The moment their eyes meet, Y/N seems to melt, but not in the good way.

Her firm and perfect posture now all bent as she embraces herself with her arms and tries with the strength that has left to hold her gaze at the person who took everything from her without much more than an empty sorry.

When she feels the guitarist at her side again, she unconsciously stretches her hand to intertwine her fingers with him, who tilts his head to see their hands together and then to see her face.

She is not doing it to make Damian jealous, but to feel supported. And when Luke realizes it, he can't help not feeling angry at the boy in from of them. In the month that he has been with her, he has never seen her doubt, fear, or believe anything less than that she is unstoppable. And today for the first time ever he sees her intimidaded, and the fact that it's because of a jerk like this makes it even worse.

He rubbs her hand to make her feel less anxious and when she turns to meet his eyes, he brings his index finger to her chin and winks at her, hoping she gets the message. She seems to do it because she immediately smiles playfully and begins to look more relaxed.

The guitarist is aware that Damian was his firecracker's first boyfriend, and he also knows how much he betrayed her love and trust. No matter how strong the woman is, her reaction is completely normal and valid, and that she has the confidence to be vulnerable and let him be there for her means a lot to him.

“Princess.” Damian whispers as he moves closer to her, his eyes fixed on Y/N and Luke's clasped hands.

“I’m not your princess, Y/L is just fine. Listen, Damian. I could pretend this is not uncomfortable and boring but, I don't want to. So yeah, excuse us.”

She pulls the hand that joins her to Luke to make him walk and Alex and Reggie follow behind them, looking at her ex boyfriend with little smiles of pride. Alex knows how much Damian turned off Y/N’s spark and seeing her put him in his place makes him feel so proud.

"So someone is going to teach me bowling or what?"

“I’ll do it baby, but another day. Today we came here with a different purpose.” Luke points to the large Rock the World machine located in a comfortable corner space.

“Of course, is always about music with you, eh Patterson?” She smirks, getting a little closer to him.

“Pretty much, but I can tell that attracts you, Y/L.” He wrinkles his nose, his lips parting slightly.

“Hell yeah it does.” he smirks, not at all expecting her to admit it so openly but he definitely should have seen it coming.

“Good thing I’m into dominant firecrackers then.”

“Could you stop flirting for a second and start playing? I have plans to destroy Alex and your daily session of sexual tension is not going to ruin it.”

Both smile at Reggie while Y/N takes the games microphone and Luke the guitar. The song that Y/N chooses is She’s so gone by Naomi Scott, and it goes without saying that the boys have never played it in their lives but they love a challenge.

The mastery with which the girl interprets the song makes a good number of people come to see the round, including her ex-boyfriend and his new friends.

“Here I am, this is me, and I'm stronger than you ever thought I'd be. Are you shocked? Are you mad? That you're missing out on who I really am.”

The singer sings the verse directly towards Damian, as his friends start pointing out and teasing him. Reggie goes over to tell Luke he thought he would join her, but the guitarist only replies, "I want to see her shine."

She gets carried away with the music and draws Luke to her, jumping and twirling to the beat of the music. The guitarist hyping her up every single second og the song. At the end the night was incredible, the four of them spent it singing, dancing and even bowling, which Y/N ended up dominating from the second round.

Luke thought that there would be no better time than that night to show her what he had been working on, so after saying goodbye to her he went to Alex’s where he had left his journal.

Before he can say goodbye to the blond, screams are heard from the house next door. “I wasn't trying to embarrass you, Damian!”

“No? So what were you doing shaking your hips against the rock boy?”

“I don't have to explain anything to you, but I think it's pretty obvious why I wanted to be against that body, have you seen it?” She says it playfully with her eyes fixed on the guitarist, who is walking with the blonde to her door, her eyes glinting wickedly in the dark. He chuckles, knowing it's the girl's way of reassure him and she smiles as she sees his expressions relax.

“Everything alright, firecracker?” Luke does not stand in front of her like a brave prince, he stops a meter from both of them and asks before intervening, and that makes her heart melt. Because he wants to hear her first, he trusts that she can take care of it and has the confidence to tell him if she needs help, which is also completely valid. And it's something she has to work on, know that there are also times when it's okay to trust someone. That you don't always have to carry the weight alone.

“Go away, punk. My girl and I are in the middle of something.” The three of them start laughing at the ex-boyfriend's intimidation attempt, who seems to get angrier with every laugh that comes out of their mouths.

“I’m fine baby, but you guys could show him the way out? I’m tired of his bullshit.” She asks the boy with a cute smile, and he would disintegrate over the nickname if her horrible ex-boyfriend and her best friend weren't there.

"Don't touch me, I’ll go. Right now the numbers are not working in my favor so we will fix this where it really matters, on stage. Let's see if this attempt at a singer can save you from total humiliation, because let's be honest Y/N, you are nothing without me."

The faces of both members of Sunset Curve begin to tense, Luke's fists completely white from how much he's clenching them. For her part, the singer, who is already used to that type of comments from her ex-boyfriend, only tells him "yes, yes, you're right. It was a pleasure Dami, never come back." while pushing him to the other side to make him go away.

The nickname comes off her tongue in the most natural way in the world, she doesn't even seem to notice it and Luke feels some annoyance hearing it. As if someone had hit him in the stomach. But immediately the discomfort goes away when the girl turns to them again with a big smile and runs to hug them excitedly.

“Thanks for coming to check me out, guys. Things can sometimes get out of control with him.”

"We will always be there for you when you need us, okay? I actually went into Alex's house to get something I wanted to show you but it's late, I’ll come back tomorrow." The blonde turns from his friend to the other, a tired smile appears on his lips as he passes Luke his journal to place his arm on his childhood friend and lean on her.

"No, don't go please. Damian was pretty mad and... I don't want to be alone." She can be very dramatic at times but the fear in her voice sounds sincere, and remembering the scream that brought them outside in the first place Alex imagines how scared she really was before seeing them show up and his heart clenches at the thought.

“O- Okay, sure.” He sounds nervous but the excitement is evident in the way his left leg keeps moving, just like when he's on stage.

“I do have to go in, you already know mom. Will you be alright with just Luke?” He already knows the answer from the girl's radiant gaze but it doesn't hurt to confirm. She hugs him tightly with her arms around his neck and whispers a "Yes, I love you but go away already." which makes the drummer laugh out loud while high-fiving his other friend goodbye.

The third wheel enters his house and finally they are alone. She smiles and takes him by the hand to enter the house. Luke takes a moment to admire it, everything is in place but there are several instruments throughout the living room. A keyboard on the couch, a guitar next to the TV, even a tambourine on the table.

"May l?" He walks over to the guitar and turns to see the girl nodding and pointing up the stairs for him to follow. Her room is quite similar to her style, white is the predominant color but there are many details in pink and gold, as well as multiple yellow lights giving a romantic tone to the room at midnight.

“Do you want to show me now?” she asks eagearly, with joined hands, closed eyes and pursed lips.

“Y- yeah... of course.” He sits on the rug and puts the guitar aside, then puts his notebook between his legs and when he finds the sheet he is looking for, he carefully tears it off. The girl looks at him adoringly, the happiness of having him with her making her heart beat louder in her chest. She sits across from him making sure to brush his legs and waits for him to speak.

“Here.” He looks nervous, his cheeks totally flushed as he avoids eye contact for the first time since they met.

Y/N takes the sheet in his hands and a huge warm smile appears on her face when he sees the guitarist's terrible lyrics. BRIGHT written and highlighted several times in the title.

“It’s for you.” Luke whispers while bringing his face closer to hers, making her shiver.

“You wrote me a song?” She doesn't know what to say. Since her mom, no one had done anything so beautiful, considerate, and selfless for her. Something so vulnerable and full of love.

“Don’t be mad, but Alex told me a little about how you ended up in show choir, your friendship with him, your mom.” He turns to see her looking for her reaction, she just nods to tell him it’s okay to continue. “A sweet story about a little girl with the voice of an angel who loved to sing love songs. And you know what was in my head all that night? That even though I've never written one, I would write millions of love songs for you.”

Some tears fall from the girl's face, she carefully places the lyrics on the guitar and throws herself on the guitarist, who falls in surprise against the carpet, making sure to grab her by the waist so that she falls safely on his chest. She rests her arms on either side of his head and brings her lips against Luke's, brushing them gently.

Luke doesn't move a muscle, not wanting to do something to make her uncomfortable, when he suddenly hears her talk. “And what about teeth? I mean is not the sweetest love story ever told but-”

The boy chuckles, Y/N's curious eyes a few inches away. “Alex wrote that one after his first breakup, Reggie and I did the melody.”

“Good. Guess we’ll have to start making some experiences to help you write all that songs.” At that moment she finally pushes her lips against his, both in a moment of euphoria at the taste of each other. She presses her body against him and he bites lightly with his teeth on her lower lip to shove his tongue against her mouth in response. Her little hands pulling his hair hard as his hands go down her butt. Both of them enjoying what they had been dreaming of for so long.

When the two finally separate they fall in a comfortable silence, she starts to admire his facial features, delicately running her fingers through his nose, his mouth, his cheekbones, until he interrumpts her. “I knew you want me from the beginning, I could see the lust in your eyes. Everything about the choir was a complex plan to get me under you.” Luke affirms with his best poker face, and sees clearly how her eyes fill with light while a pure laugh escapes from her now swollen lips.

“And as always, I achieved the goal. The hot local rockstar is sleeping on my bed tonight.” No matter how hard he tries, he can never catch her off guard and he always ends up being the one blushing. She kisses him softly before getting up and taking the song lyrics back. “Luke, do you mind if I sing a bit of the song?”

“Of course not, it's yours. I will accompany you with the guitar, from the pre-choir?”

She nods and begins to sing the words he wrote for her. “Life is a risk but I will take it, close my eyes and jump. Together I think that we can make it, come on, let's run.”

She is reading the choir as she sings and the urge to cry reappears. He's basically telling her that she no longer has to go on living life alone, that she can lean on him, she can trust him to fight by her side. That it can be us instead of I.

“And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together. Bright forever.”

As soon as they finish singing Luke puts the guitar aside and goes over to wipe the tears from the girl's face. “I know that at first glance it doesn't seem like a love song, but..."

“But it is. It’s perfect, thank you Luke.” She didn't know that someone other than her could make her feel so special, but he proved her wrong, again.

The night before was like a dream. Y/N sleeping with his shirt while he wrapped her completely in his arms, singing softly in her ear and leaving little kisses on her neck every few verses until she fell asleep. At this point there is no way to deny how completely in love he is with her.

“Man, we need to talk.” His blonde friend wakes him up from his daydream and starts pulling him down the hall to an empty table in the cafeteria, where Reggie is already waiting for them.

They both sit down and Alex takes a deep breath as he plays with his fingers, trying to form coherent sentences with the words in his head. “Bobby called last night.” Luke's gaze instantly shifted to disgust, while Reggie looks quite shocked.

“So? What did he want?” Luke whispers, trying to sound disinterested.

“He sent some of our videos to an important person at Destiny Management and they are interested in the band. He said that if we comply with certain requests he will give the money for us to record the demo this Friday so that it’s ready for the appointment."

“And I guess you told him we don't need him or his money. What did he answer you? He cried?" the guitarist asks with an amused face, but his friends just look at each other.

“Don't you think we should think more about it? What happens if we don't win nationals? We’ll have lost something as sure as Bobby's deal for nothing."

“She’s my friend and I love her but I have to agree, Luke. As difficult as it is, our priority has to be Sunset Curve, not Spectacular"

“But-”

“They are right, Luke.” All three look at the girl, as pale as If they had seen a ghost. “Spectacular is my dream, And I know I'd do anything for it. It would be unfair of me to get angry because you’re fighting for yours. Don't hesitate, if anyone can find a way out of this it's me.”

“But, the duet...”

“I’ll just have to be the melody and the words. I’ll be fine, and honestly I'm so proud of you guys, I know you will be rock legends one day.” All three feel guilty but don't know what to say or do to make it right. She goes over to hug the drummer and the bassist who take her in their arms with all their strength, a “I’m so sorry” from the blonde accompanied by an “I know” from the girl can be heard. Then she stands in front of the guitarist and kisses his lips intensely, but breaking away painfully fast. The guys leave lovers alone for a moment of privacy.

“I believe in you, baby. You are destined to be a star, forget everything else, even me. Take the moment and knock them off their feet.” She kisses him lightly on the lips and walks a few steps back. “This month was the happiest of my life in a long time, thank you. Guess I’ll see you guys around.”

“Why do you sound like you are saying goodbye? And a horrible one? I thought you were good at everything.” Luke walks over to her again and places his hands on her cheeks, rubbing them gently. His voice is shaky and his eyes are glassy, she snorts at his sudden taunt, a little smile covered with the tears.

“Once everyone gets back to their own business, do you think you'll still have time for me? Alex is my damn neighbor, and we couldn't keep in touch.” And Luke gets it. She is used to being alone, to people not being permanent in her life. Neither her parents, nor her best friend, nor her boyfriend, nor anyone else has stayed. So this time to protect herself she decided that he too was going to leave, that it would be foolish to think that he of all possible people would stay.

“I‘m not letting you go baby, you're the only one I would let to boss me around.” The girl laughs when she remembers the millions of times she had to correct him and how he always ended up making her blush in some way, especially when they danced. She can't remember telling him but dancing with him has been the most special thing she has ever experienced. She danced with Damian for years and it never felt like the first time Luke put her long, strong hands on her waist and pulled her close to him. She can only hope to feel that way again one day.

“You are my one and only, firecracker. We’ll find a way, neither of us is a quitter.”

They say that actions are worth a thousand words, and Luke had definitely missed his first chance to show Y/N that he was serious about them by not getting in time to wish her good luck before she left with the group to the city of the competition, a few hours from there. He couldn't help but feel more miserable when he returned to the studio and found a small yellow sheet in his journal.

“You got this, rockstar. I have so much faith in you, so go make me proud. And I don’t want you feeling guilty, okay? I always want to see you shine, baby, no matter what. Your firecracker, Y/N.” Luke laughs softly, dazzled by her attempt to be sweet. If she trusts him so much, why doesn't he return the favor? She assured him they could win and when she says something, she follows through.

Why ruin his life with all of Bobby's ridiculous demands while ditching his girl in the process when he can go sing with her and do band things their way, without selling their soul to the devil. He sits on the couch thinking about what to say to the boys when they both rush in and pick him up, one from his feet and the other from his arms.

“What the hell are you two planning this time?” Luke sounds annoyed but does nothing to stop them from moving him, they throw him into the back of the car and he hits his head, getting him to kick them before they close the door.

"I'm not going to let her down again, I can’t."

"Yeah, and surely we can win, the number is spectacular... do you understand what I did there?”

Alex rolls his eyes and Luke smiles. They drive at full speed to Luke’s for him to take all his things and when he returns to the car, stands thoughtfully by the window.

“What are you doing?!” Alex is not having it, looks like a vein is going to burst from stress any second now.

“Do you think we’ll make it?” Questioned the guitarist, clearly nervous.

“If you stop asking stupid as fuck questions and get in the car, maybe.” Luke pouts but listens and finishes loading everything in the trunk.

The road is full of music to try to calm all the nerves, there was also plenty of time to rehearse the number over and over again, Luke analyzing in his mind every move he had to make, from time to time his bossy girl correcting him in his head. The only difficult thing was probably changing into the costumes, especially for Alex.

They arrive directly to register and the band turns pale when they hear the powerful and breathtaking voice of the singer who is playing her solo right now, a heavenly version of 'Never enough’. By the time they are ready to go, the main number has already started, the imposing woman in the very center of the stage with one of the boys of the group, who although does not have the voice of the guitarist, is making a good effort. Damian is on the other side, staring at her with a superiority smirk and Luke can't help but want to punch him.

“I never realized how anyone could make everything so right, I was so sad, you brought me back.” Alex quickly indicates to him how to enter the stage from the back, and Luke prepares to jump in time for the chorus, taking care of not being seen as he climbs the platform. The song is an old pop-rock song from the 80s, specifically chosen to make the guitarist's voice shine. He and his firecracker sat listening to music for hours until they finally found it, the girl's eyes shining with excitement as she imagined all she could do with the potential of the melody.

“You give me something to believe in, after all that we've been through.” He appears on the platform just in time, the lights and smoke coming out right in his grand entrance. Y/N turns immediately upon hearing her voice and he dances his way towards her.

“The love you give, it all comes back to you. You give me something to believe in, you can see the real me. And here with you is where I'm meant to be.” both singing together the remainder of the chorus and dancing to the beat. The biggest smile he has seen in his girl since he met her on her beautiful face. With that he feels satisfied with his decision, whatever happens, win or lose, it was worth it.

“And here we are together side by side, and nothing seems impossible tonight.” the duet between them is electrifying as always, he puts his hands on her thighs and lifts her with ease, both of them moving and enjoying themselves as if they were the only ones in the place. The dance ends as the first time they danced in the auditorium when he showed her that he was the right option, he holds her with one arm, their lips inches from touching but holding the magnetism back for a few more seconds until finally leave the stage.

As soon as they are backstage Y/N throws herself at Luke, wrapping her legs around his hips and devouring his lips with hers. “Someone missed me.” Luke whispers catching his breath.

"I can't believe you guys did this for me." Expressed the girl as she turns to see her other two friends, still wrapped around Luke who has her tightly held with his huge arms around her butt.

“We trust you as much as you trust us. We know that you will win, you worked like nobody for this moment.” Affirmed the blonde, giving her a small kiss on the forehead.

“I feel like I won already.” And she did. She won the trophy, the money for the demo, friends, and a ridiculously gorgeous rockstar who drove her crazy in more ways than one. All this years working hard were finally worth it... and Damian throwing a tantrum in the middle of the stage felt good too, not gonna lie.

“When are you going to ask me to be your boyfriend? As much as I love you more than anything, a man has to have some pride, you know? We've been together for like 5 months and I'm getting desperate.” They are both lying together on the girl's bed, their legs intertwined as he makes little circles with his fingers on his girl's stomach.

She raises her head resting her hand on his bare chest, her thoughts impossible to read. What are you talking about? I'm waiting for you to ask me!” He chuckles, prepared to tease her. “Bu-”she interrumpts him, pushing the hand that is resting on him to sit down. “Ba-”

“Wait a second, Lucas!” He bites his lip, he never liked being called by his name but for some reason it sounds incredibly sensual when she says it. “Yeah, baby?”

“D- did you say you love me?”

“I did, and I do. Everybody knows you've got me trapped in your claws.” He jokes to make her laugh, and he succeeds.

“I love you too, so much.”

“I know baby.” He winks teasingly at her. “Returning to the topic, you are the most bossy and confident person I have ever met, and you want to tell me that you were waiting for me to take the first step? Doesn’t sound like my firecracker. You literally pretended to be a sunset curve super fan to get my attention.”

"I totally did, I was awesome, first thing next day you were at the auditorium.” She says proud while Luke rolls his eyes with a smile. “But if it makes you feel better, I'm 100% a fan now, and...You are completely right, for once.”

She takes a deep breath, intertwining her fingers with his. “Lucas Patterson, I want you, if we're being honest, probably from the first time I saw you at that Sunset Curve gig we met at. You are annoying, cocky, passionate, and I love you with all my heart. Be my boyfriend... please.”

“There it is, that’s my girlfriend.” His eyes full of lust after hearing that she wanted him from the first night, he draws her closer to him to push his lips against hers, his girlfriend's tongue quickly dancing with his.

"Oh my god, we already talked about this, close the damn window, I don't want to hear it!” The blonde cries from his balcony, the couple can't help but laugh before joining their lips again.

Thank you for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713 @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @txrii @tuttigunner @dpaccione @justalittleweirdoo @mrstodorooki @averyharrypotterlife

[no-droids]

Why is the Girl Here?

Part 1 of 2 of The Locked Door Series

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/fem!Reader

Word Count: 12.8K

Summary: The Clone Wars have launched the galaxy into darkness, and hundreds of Jedi have fallen. With nowhere else to turn, the Order seeks to ally with powerful Force users from the Unknown Regions.  Just a three-cycle trip from Ilum, the planet s’Ziscari is home to the largest army of Force sensitives known to the galaxy, three times the size of the Jedi Order and with no current allegiance to the Republic.  There, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and his newly ordained Jedi Knight are to negotiate an alliance with the s’Ziscari government on behalf of the Order and the Republic.  As the separatist army grows ever stronger, the fate of trillions rests in their hands…

Warnings: THIS WILL BE A FUCK OR DIE-ESQUE FIC.  Smut will come in the second part.

***

“Why is it,” you ask, the heels of your leather boots clicking in perfect synchronization with the cloaked figure to your left, “that the greatest negotiator in the Jedi Order wields a blue saber, and not a green one?”

While you're unable to see his gentle smile from underneath your dark cowl, you sense a general wave of amusement reverberate through the Force from his direction.  The energy somehow feels like the equivalent of a lift inside the cavity in your chest; transparent, tinted a soft blue in color, comfortable, calm, and familiar.

“Perhaps we should trade,” comes that crisp and precise Coruscanti accent you've ached to hear for the past two years.  “No matter how much you lamented its color as a youngling, you know I have always been rather fond of yours.”

It’s true, you think.  The color green never really… agreed with you, and much less what it represents to the Jedi, but your Master always said he found the pastel hue of the saber currently clipped to your belt to be unique and appealing.  Green—any shade of it, really—is the color of the Jedi Consulars.  The peacekeepers, the diplomats, the healers and seers.  Their—your—inner nature and connection to the Force speaks to concord and harmony, and though you’ve come to accept your place amongst the pacifists and mediators in the Order after years of training and meditation, you still remember what a shock it was to discover the color of your kyber crystal as a youngling.

You always thought you’d have a blue saber.  The mark of the Guardians—the second of the three branches of Jedi.  Their skills are focused in battle, and any saber towards the far end of the color spectrum typically leads to specializing in lightsaber combat and warfare tactics.  That’s what you always thought your soul spoke to most—the warriors of the Order.  The soldiers and the members of the Jedi Core, the battle tacticians, the security of the Republic and law enforcers.  You were always a bit of a brash and emotional child compared to your peers, a bit of a handful as a youngling, and you were certain your saber would be some shade of blue because of that.  At that age, a yellow saber was maybe a possibility.  Though you didn’t really have the amount of friends a sociable, service-oriented Sentinel would have, you still felt that if you didn’t have a blue saber, then yellow was far more likely than green.  Yet, you still remember blinking down at your tiny, open palm deep in a cave on Ilum, stunned, a pale mint kyber crystal held precariously in it and nearly vibrating with how loudly it was calling to you through the Force.

“Did the Council do that on purpose, you think?”  You ask, the both of you taking a sharp right down another unfamiliar marble hallway with no spoken direction.  “Pair their most combative Consular with their most mild-mannered Guardian all those years ago, hoping we’d make a good team?”

“You know as well as I do that I chose you for a Padawan myself, young one,” your Master hums.  “And that… we have always been.”

It’s been two years since you last saw him.  Two years, since you passed your trials and graduated from his tutelage.  Knighthood has been good to you with the exception of your former Master’s extended absence, a consequence of your newfound independence as a bonafide member of the Order.  Though the circumstances surrounding your much anticipated reunion with him certainly aren’t ideal, you’re glad nonetheless that you’re face-to-face again—or, currently, shoulder-to-shoulder.

You hide the ghost of a smile under your hood and maintain a steady, calm signature in the Force, keeping in stride with him and speaking in hushed tones.  “Things must really be desperate if they’re putting us back together again.”

“I do not wish to alarm you,” he drawls, sarcastic in cadence but a hint of affection weaving through his voice all the same, “but we are in the middle of a war.”

“Fair,” you acknowledge with a tilt of your head, though being on a planet so far removed from the chaos currently wreaking havoc on the rest of the galaxy allows you the privilege of pretending for the moment.  “A threat to the very fabric of the Republic is the only reason the Council would sanction the two of us reuniting.”

Though you say it jokingly, there’s something hidden in it.  An unspoken apprehension you’re attempting to mask with the high spirits of seeing him again.  The stakes of the forthcoming interplanetary negotiation are absolutely staggering, and though it remains unsaid, you understand that just as well as he does.  Scared isn’t the right word, and neither is worried, but—

“I sense a mild trepidation in you, young one,” your Master murmurs, and yes, that’s it.  A mild trepidation.

“I am…”  You close your eyes and attempt to find the right words.  “I am… considering the long-term consequences should this endeavor fail,” you eventually settle on, allowing your feet to lead you left as you keep your pace with him.  “While I consider it a great honor to lead this negotiation on behalf of the Galactic Republic, I’m concerned the Council’s faith in me is… ill-placed.”

Your Master turns his head just marginally in your direction, and though you both can't technically see each other, you know the face he's making under the hood of his robe: his eyebrow is raised, his chin is tilted, and there's the faintest hint of an amused grin threatening to morph the slightly sassy expression to one of genuine humor.  “You distrust the Council’s judgement?”

“Failure and any potential repercussions will be mine alone to bear,” you clarify.  “It’s not the Council I lack faith in, but rather my own skills as a mediator.”

At this, the Jedi does chuckle.  “And I'm to assume I'm just the tauntaun next door in this scenario?”

The apprehension clears, almost immediately, and you can’t help but grin gently in return.  He always did have that effect on you.  “Better be,” you toss out, sensing the large congregation of lifeforms gradually burn brighter in the Force as you both continue your quiet approach.  “This is my negotiation, after all; the Council’s instructions were clear.”

“Very well,” he agrees.  “And, since this is your negotiation, I’m sure you’re more than aware of s’Ziscari etiquette and tradition?  Wouldn’t want to offend them by accident.”

“Of course,” you nod.  “But a… a quick refresher certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

Your Master just tsks quietly, but launches into a brief explanation for you all the same.  “It is the Council’s understanding that Queen s’Zerthia is absent from the Palace at the moment.  In lieu of an audience with her, Ambassador Zyther is the only other member of her Royal Majesty’s court who happens to be fluent in Basic, so be sure to address only him when you speak, and to speak slowly and clearly, as it’s crucial they understand our intentions are purely diplomatic in nature.  Do not forget the s’Ziscari are a Force sensitive race; they’ll be able to spot deception the second you think to speak it aloud.  Not that I anticipate the need to mislead them for any reason, of course, but please.  Be mindful.”

Instead of answering him, you direct an affirmative through the Force, and your Master continues.

“They are known to take offense to extended eye contact and they’re not fond of humor or small-talk either, so skip directly to the point: the Jedi are here on behalf of the Republic to garner the support of their planet during these times of war and great unease.  Intel tells us they have amassed an army of Force sensitives three times the size of the Order.  While we’re hoping for a pledge of at least a thousand soldiers to fight in the Clone Wars, we are more than willing to compromise and accept any assistance they’d be gracious enough to provide nonetheless.”

“In exchange for what?”  You ask, the throne room doors now in sight.  You were formally debriefed on mission details during the three day trip to s’Ziscari, but the answer to that specific question was kept purposefully vague, even for the likes of the Council.  Presently, you still have no idea what exactly you’re meant to be bargaining with, not for.

“In exchange for the continued security of having a peaceful and harmonious neighbor with which to share the galaxy,” he replies breezily, the both of you coming to a halt directly in front of two large wooden doors.  “Now.  Are you quite ready?”

“Hang on,” you say, turning to face him, and he carefully ducks his head and removes his hood with two hands as his body rotates to mirror yours.  “You’re telling me that we’re walking into the most important negotiation in the entire galaxy without actually having anything substantial to offer on our behalf?”

Slowly, the dark cowl is lifted from your head as well, and your eyes lock with a pair of calm cerulean blues staring back at you as he gently soothes the fabric down by your collar.  He looks older—ever since the Clone Wars started, Jedi Master General Obi-Wan Kenobi has aged significantly.  Gone are the long, flowing locks he sported for most of your youth—the short hair with a clean part is more refined, the beard fuller and more mature.  More… attractive than you remember him being, even though you always remembered him being… achingly attractive.

Instead of answering your question, however, he simply moves both hands to rest over the curve of your shoulders, lowering his head and lifting his eyebrows at you in a look of genuine sincerity that makes your heart thump painfully in your chest.

“I am so very proud of you, my former Padawan,” he tells you quietly, and you feel yourself nearly swell with warmth.  You’re strong enough in the Force to subdue the sentiment before it bleeds into your signature, but you can’t help the way your face flushes slightly and a girlish little smile pulls tight at your cheeks.  “You’ve grown into a fine Knight and an exemplar for the Order.  No matter the outcome of this mission, nor of this war, please know I’ve been truly blessed by the Maker to have been given the privilege of training you all these years.”

Master Kenobi tilts his head forward just slightly, allowing his Force signature to brush delicately against yours for just a moment, the soft periwinkles and lavenders of his energy swirling gently through your pastel seafoams and teals.

And then he clears his throat, straightens his spine, and claps his hands tight to your upper arms.

“Come now, Jedi,” he winks, turning his head to the double doors and breaking into a brilliant grin, the skin around his eyes crinkling with age but the sparkle in them still lovely and youthful and bright.  “The fate of the galaxy awaits.”

***

Master Obi-Wan Kenobi remembers very clearly the day he chose you as a Padawan.

You were a fiery little thing.  The Sentinels who raised younglings at the Academy would often speak about you at length to the Council, each of them reporting back with the same issues and concerns.  Too emotional, too chaotic, too rebellious for the likes of the Jedi.  You threw tantrums, you had outbursts, and to him, you were very likely the worst possible candidate for a negotiator to take on as an apprentice, if only because by all accounts it appeared that you were nigh impossible to negotiate with.

But then you caught his eye one day when Master Yoda was in the process of introducing him to your class.  You should’ve been paying attention to the wisdom being shared by the oldest Consular in the Order (and, admittedly, so should he) but instead, you were gazing quietly at a dove that made its nest on the transparisteel dome arching across the ceiling.  Obi-Wan remembers feeling your energy cautiously reach out towards it, gentler than anything he could’ve expected from a child of your age and reputation, and the moment stuck with him.

The younglings were each allowed one possession at the Academy, and when it came time for him to choose a Padawan, he swiped yours, if only to see what you’d do.  A stuffed rancor you’d endearingly named Cory—rather hideous looking thing, if you asked him—and he was told you were fiercely protective over it.

Obi-Wan remembers carefully setting the stuffed animal down next to him in one of the old storage rooms in the isolated training area, locking the door manually and then taking a quick second to cloak his Force signature.  You had three options, he figured, if you were able to find its location.  Use the Force to unlock the door, use the brand new saber clipped to your belt to create your own door, or leave without your stuffed rancor.  Based off your reputation as an emotionally volatile little youngling, he was assuming he’d have to replace the frame and wall paneling altogether, but regardless, Obi-Wan figured that if you had the nerve to break into the locked room to retrieve your missing possession, he would train you, and if you didn’t, then he’d find someone else.

He waited patiently, meditating for a few hours on your signature from across the Academy.  He went through the subsequent stages with you.  A bright flare of panic, probably from noticing its absence from your quarters.  Sharp sparks of frustration for the next few minutes, likely in response to nobody knowing where it went.  He was expecting some sort of distraught next as you began making your way through the Academy to search for it yourself, some sort of upset, but then you surprised him for the second time.

All at once… Quiet.  Serenity.  Your signature carefully sweeping out in all directions as you walked through the halls, calmly attempting to locate your missing possession.

Obi-Wan pondered this as you approached, and what it might mean.  Were you just an excellent student when you felt the stakes were high enough?  Were you capable of listening to instructions despite what he’d heard about you in passing?  Were you simply just strong in the Force?  Or was there perhaps more to you than what others had told him?

Soon, he could hear your footsteps come to a halt in front of the locked door.  He waited silently; hidden in the darkness, hidden in the Force, barely breathing while he listened for either the sound of a lightsaber turning on or a lock clicking.  He knew you’d find some way to breach the entrance somehow; he knew you wouldn’t just give up and leave.

Except, then all he heard was a quiet little rap of knuckles against metal.

“Master Kenobi?”  A small voice called through the door, and Obi-Wan froze.

To your credit, he wasn’t focusing on hiding himself the way he should’ve been.  Had you been roughly ten years older, he might’ve taken the time to concentrate a bit harder on it, but truthfully, that’s not what surprised him the most.

You didn’t break in at all.

Instead, you… knocked.

“Master Kenobi?”  You tried again after a moment, your knuckles tapping quietly on the door once more.

“Em…”  He eventually cleared his throat.  “Yes?”

“I think you may have accidentally taken something of mine on accident,” you carefully said after a moment, the overly cautious intent not to offend or intrude suddenly striking him as an invaluable trait in a potential negotiator.  “May I please have him back please?”

You were quite a handful at times, Obi-Wan thinks, but it’s been so long.  So long since he’s had to correct you in any way.  As the years passed, you aged from an emotional Padawan to a refined Knight, a hot-tempered adolescent to a disciplined and capable young Jedi.

Now he looks on as you greet the s’Ziscari Ambassador to the Republic, your head bowed in respect and your eyes focused somewhere near the man’s chest.  It appears the two of you have an audience for your audience—members of the Royal Court are sitting perched in a tiered viewing gallery, speaking quietly amongst themselves as you introduce Obi-Wan and state your purpose to the room.

Your voice rings out sharp and clear, and throughout the entire negotiation, not once does he feel compelled to assist you in any way.  You do everything right—you make fair points without stepping on any toes, you never allow the Ambassador’s booming voice intimidate you or sway your collected composure.

Obi-Wan meant what he said.  He’s proud of you.

Though… though at one point throughout the mediation, something about this starts to not… feel right.

It’s the Royal Court, he realizes.  They’ve stopped talking, they’re… paying attention.  It doesn’t make sense—none of them speak Basic, they must just be reading the energies in the room.  Nothing spectacular has happened—no outburst, nothing to draw their attention any more than when you both first made your entrance.  The Ambassador’s voice continues to echo throughout the vast ceilings and contrast with the pleasant and tranquil alto of your steady responses, but then Obi-Wan suddenly goes rigid and spins around— 

The Royal Count immediately stands in unison as the Ambassador abruptly cuts off, and a familiar signature reveals itself in the Force.

***

The Queen.

The Queen is here.

You keep your head down and follow the intricate laced bodice of her gown as she makes her entrance into the grand throne room, gliding right between you and your Master before climbing the stairs and collapsing down onto the throne with a sigh.  The Council was misinformed concerning her whereabouts, apparently.

The Court finds a seat not long after she does, and you clench your jaw at the unfortunate twist of events.  Her presence means that whatever progress you’ve made with the Ambassador is now, for all intents and purposes, moot.

There’s also just something… odd about her and her energy, you think, something you can’t quite place.  The second she turns her head and looks in your eyes is the second you forget all about avoiding eye contact with her, but if she’s offended by your sudden lack of etiquette, she displays no signs of it.  In fact, you’d almost argue she looks intrigued.

“Your Majesty,” you greet.  “I was just—”

“I got the gist,” she waves a manicured hand at you.  “What was your name again, little girl?”

You tell her, and put a hard emphasis on your full title.  She may be a monarch, but you are a General in the Clone Wars and a Knight of the Republic, and an attempt by the opposing party at intimidation by flippant degradation will not be tolerated.

“Pleasure,” she nods.  “May I ask what your people are willing to offer in exchange for the military assistance you’re seeking?”

You swallow thickly, your stomach sinking.  “Truly, your Majesty, I… I cannot provide you with a specific answer to that at this time.  However, we would gladly be willing to—”

“Perhaps you can answer me this, then, little Knight, since I never was able to obtain anything satisfactory from your High Council,” the Queen interrupts, studying her jeweled manicure and sounding bored with the conversation she just initiated, and you feel your Master stiffen behind you.  “If we s’Ziscari are so incredibly important to the Jedi, as you previously insisted to the Ambassador multiple times, then why in Maker’s name does the Council reject invitations to partake in our people’s most sacred of ceremonies year after year?”

You’re… you’re at a complete loss for words.  The Sentinels have dedicated ambassadors to travel the territories specifically for these reasons, to keep political relations agreeable between outer-rim planets and the Jedi.  There would be no discernible reason as to why the Council would reject attendance to an annual s’Ziscari cultural celebration, especially if their standing military was even half as powerful in the Force as rumors would imply.

Obviously you’re not privy to any of this information, so you subtly reach out to Master Kenobi’s Force signature with a tiny flicker of uncertainty, silently questioning your next move.  However, before you can barely even mentally gauge the calm, sky blue of his aura, your Master’s outer-shields slam into place and even so much as shove against your open question in warning.

“It was—” You trip over your sentence, heart thumping in your chest with panic at his unprecedented response to you, “—It was never our intention to cause any offense, I’m certain—”

“And yet great offense was caused nonetheless,” the Queen returns.  “However.  As it just so happens, you’ve arrived on my planet the day the Sh’inzith Ritual is to commence.  Because of that, I am more than willing to allow the Order to remedy their grave lapse in judgement tonight, in exchange for…”  She tilts her chin at you, considering.  “Ten thousand soldiers to fight in your little war.  What say you, Jedi?”

No, this is wrong.  This is all wrong—an addition of ten thousand trained Force sensitives would put an immediate end to the Clone Wars.  Full stop.  Instead of being tempted by the bait, however, you’re just becoming increasingly wary of it.

Regardless of how on edge you are, you keep an unbothered composure and continue stunting any major change to your signature.  “You cannot expect me to agree to a deal before knowing the finer points of its terms, my Queen.”

“Of course not,” she agrees diplomatically.  “My terms are simple, really.  All you have to do is—”

“If you will pardon the interruption,” Master Kenobi’s voice suddenly rings out from behind you for the first time in what feels like ages, and he takes a few steps forward until he’s standing directly adjacent to you.  “Apologies to the Court, but my companion and I have grown very weary from a long tr—”

“No apologies necessary, Master Kenobi,” the Queen grins, her eyes flicking away from yours.  “Thought I saw you back there.  Shall I elaborate?  I’ll make it quick, so you don’t fall asleep.”

There’s a tense, pregnant silence that fills the throne room as everybody waits for his response, and you’re left wondering how your Master knows this woman.  

He breaks eye contact with the monarch first and stares down at the floor while he considers his answer, before finally settling on a quiet, “Leave us.”

The Queen nods exactly once and everyone in the gallery rises and slowly files out.  You take a moment to glance around at the handful of guards surrounding the throne room, waiting for their perfect statuesque posture to falter.  Only, they remain completely motionless.

You turn back to the Queen, watching you thoughtfully from her elevated throne, and then to your Master, who’s… still looking down at the floor.

It takes you a bit longer than it should, even then.

Obi-Wan says your name in a tight, urging tone, not even bothering to turn his head to address you.  “Please.”

What?

You?  He wants you to leave?  But… the Council said… they said that this is your negotiation.  Clearly they failed to provide you with some very crucial piece of information, so now he’s dismissing you because of it?  Openly?  In front of the other party?

“But… But I was supposed to—”

“Padawan,” he all but snaps at you.  “Please.”

You stand there, holding yourself as still as possible, absolutely stunned.  Your Master has never spoken to you this way.  You’ve never heard him speak to anyone this way.

The Queen just smiles down at you saccharinely from her throne, clearly enjoying your blatant discomfort and embarrassment.

This is humiliating.

You’d never say it out loud.  But as you quietly leave the throne room, two guards on either side accompanying you to your chambers, you practically shove the words at him through the Force, trying your absolute hardest not to let the hurt through.  Though in hindsight, you may have emphasized the last part a bit too harshly.

Of course.  Master.

***

Obi-Wan realizes the grievousness of his mistake the second it comes out of his mouth.  He doesn’t need the extended moment of silence as you work to process the unintentional insult.  He doesn’t need the way your Force signature suddenly seems incredibly small, like it shrank in on itself in mortification.  He most definitely does not need the spiteful remark reverberating around his brain as your footsteps fade into nothingness, the thought so sharp and directed that he’d likely have trouble blocking it out.

“Strange,” the Queen drawls out in his direction, breaking him from the whirlwind of his thoughts.  “Do you really still view her as a Padawan?  But she’s such a pretty girl.  And she was doing so well.”

“I will not speak of this with you,” Obi-Wan replies candidly, abandoning all pleasantries now that they’re alone.

“Oh, but you will,” s’Zerthia tuts, somehow sounding disapproving and gleeful in equal parts.  “If you want your army, that is.”

“Must you be so cruel, Your Majesty?”  Obi-Wan sighs, lowering his head and rubbing the bridge of his nose.  Maker, he’s getting a headache.  “Are the Uncharted Regions truly that dull?”

“Come now, old friend,” she grins, tilting her head at him as she relaxes back in her throne.  “You’ve known of my nature since we were introduced at the Senate all those decades ago.  There is a reason you’re still with the peace-loving wizard monks and I am now the reigning monarch over twenty thousand square parsecs of territories.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan acknowledges.  “And now we are grown.  Though it appears someone has yet to remind you.”

“Contrary to what you may believe, General Kenobi, this is not about me,” the Queen sighs.  “My people do not look kindly upon the Jedi.  The Ritual is a celebration of our connection with the Force, and denying an invitation, to them, is akin to denying their existence as a Force sensitive people.  I can give you your army at any time, of course—I am Queen.  But I fear that will not be enough.  The s’Ziscari will not willingly fight for you until you pay your due respects to our culture.”

“Queen s’Zerthia,” he exhales, clearly exasperated, “I cannot call myself Jedi and partake in such… proclivities.  The Council will never agree to such measures.  There must be some other way.”

“There isn’t, old friend,” she huffs shortly, her signature beginning to spark with impatience.  “Make your choice.”

“I am not having sex in an arena, s’Zerthia,” he hisses.

“Then the Republic shall fall.”

“You’ll let trillions die—”

“Do not speak to me as if you are not the only person who can change that, Jedi!”  The Queen suddenly barks, her voice echoing throughout the empty throne room and booming with frustration.  “I cannot make them fight!  They love their Queen, but I am thirty-nine years old, for star’s sake!  These traditions have lasted for millennia!  Would you abandon the ways of your religion simply because your leader ordered it so?”

“That is exactly what you’re demanding of me,” he returns sharply.

“Yes,” s’Zerthia acknowledges.  “But you are but one martyr, Obi-Wan Kenobi.  Not an army.”

Obi-Wan sighs.  “I’ve… s’Zerthia, I’ve never…  It’s forbidden.  And now you’re asking me to break my oath in front of an audience… with someone I don’t know?”  He keeps his voice as steady as possible, but he knows it’s useless.  The Queen of the s’Ziscari will see the wavering in his Force signature.  The underlying pulse of fear at the center.

It’s her turn to sigh.  “The Sh’inzith is about celebrating our connection with the Force… consensually.  I… may be able to speak to some of my people about the possibility of you participating in private, due to the,” she clears her throat, “delicate nature of the situation, as well as your particular upbringing.  However.  You will have to project during the… closing ceremonies, if only to prove your direct involvement.  This is the best I can do.  Do we have an agreement?”

Obi-Wan drops his gaze.  “I… I don’t know.  I must confer with the Council first.  But… but with their permission…”  He chooses to leave his sentence unfinished, still so unbelievably uncomfortable with the terms of this nightmare to agree to them aloud.

“Understood,” she nods.  “Then I shall arrange to send someone to your chambers at midnight unless you notify my staff otherwise.  Which would you prefer—a man or a woman?”

He stays silent, his stomach churning in discomfort.  He doesn’t think he’s ever even considered the question before.  He truly doesn’t know how to answer it.

Intuitively, the Queen moves on.  “No matter.  What of the girl, then?  A man would do well for her, I’m assuming?”

He lifts his head, furrowing his eyebrows.  “The girl?  What girl?”

“The girl,” s’Zerthia repeats blankly.  “All Jedi present will need to participate, of course.”

“No,” Obi-Wan says immediately, taking a few steps forward.  “No, that wasn’t the deal.  The girl has been a Knight for barely two years, she’s never even heard of the Ritual.  She has no part in this.”

“And yet she was meant to lead this negotiation, was she not?”  She tsks in disappointment, each staccato click of her tongue echoing throughout the vast ceilings and rafters of the room.  “Is that how you Jedi treat your women?  Throw her headfirst into a mediator’s position with none of the details she needs to be successful, dismiss and humiliate her when she inevitably fails, and subsequently refuse any involvement in a potential solution on her behalf because she ‘has no part in this’?  Perhaps I should be offended that the Jedi thought so little of the s’Ziscari as to assign someone of her standing to lead this negotiation, but as of right now, considering the mere fact that my palace is still intact, I’m actually starting to believe your little Padawan may just be the best of you.”

Obi-Wan says absolutely nothing in response, his heart panging in his chest in shame hearing it put into words that way.  He’s never been one to question the decision-making of the Council, but assigning you to this mission had admittedly been something he himself couldn’t quite puzzle out.  Obi-Wan understands the need to further develop your diplomatic skills, but the terms of this specific negotiation were just far too complex and far too crucial to the survival of the Republic to gamble on one of the youngest Knights in the Order.  By all accounts, you shouldn’t be here, but the Council was very specific in their instructions.  You were to lead negotiations, and Obi-Wan was to act as reinforcement should anything happen to go awry.

The Queen quietly studies the Jedi Master all the while, tilting her head thoughtfully.  “None of this makes any sense, does it?”

Again, Obi-Wan maintains his silence with a furrowed brow and a far-off look on his face.

“What’s so different about this one?”  She asks him, sincere curiosity appearing to overtake her in the moment.  “This girl, specifically, out of everyone—why would they choose her for this negotiation?  There’d be no discernible reason, unless they wanted her to—”

She cuts herself off abruptly as Obi-Wan quickly flicks his gaze over to her.  When she’s silent for too long, he has to prompt her.  “Unless they wanted her to what?”

“Ah,” she whispers at once, her expression immediately clearing in understanding.  “Clever.  Diabolical, manipulative, and entirely unexpected from a group of glorified cultists with brightly colored laser swords.  But oh, so clever.”

Obi-Wan is starting to become very frustrated with this conversation.

“You know,” the Queen continues, back to studying her manicure, “I used to lament my lack of free will as a member of royalty by marriage.  My husband, Maker rest his soul, could never yearn for what he did not know, but as the daughter of a Senator, I was born as low as you.  I was a Miss once,” she laughs airily, as if the thought of her holding that title is absolutely ridiculous now.  “I knew the difference between a life of freedom and that of a puppet.  But.  At least my superiors revoked my autonomy to my face.  Your Council sees fit to pull strings from behind a curtain.”

“You think the Council wanted this?”  He can’t keep the intense skepticism from lacing his tone, despite his best efforts.

The Queen suddenly looks up from her jeweled fingernails and pins him with a hard stare.  “Will you bed a stranger even with the direct permission of your betters?”  She shoots at him, quite unexpectedly and shameless in her phrasing.

Obi-Wan nearly jerks back, the abrupt change in subject and rather personal question startling him.  “I—”

“Would you have asked your Padawan to accompany you here if you’d been put in charge of negotiations instead?”

“I’m not sure I—”

“Do you think it simply a coincidence the two of you were scheduled to arrive on my planet exactly ten hours before a festivity that only happens once every five hundred and some-odd cycles begins?”

“I can assure you I was not privy the t—”

“Why is the girl here?”

He… he doesn’t understand.  It’s like she’s trying to have four conversations with him at once.  He’s getting whiplash.  “s’Zerthia.”

“Obi-Wan.  Come now, don’t be daft.”  She goes back to picking at her fingernails, clearly done with her interrogation for the time being.  “She’s here because she is a thousand times more prepared to participate in the Sh’inzith than you are, of course.”

Obi-Wan blinks.  “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means the Council knew full well what the terms of this negotiation would be,” the Queen shrugs.  “Though you may not be too familiar with Jedi-s’Ziscari interplanetary relations, I can assure you we have openly voiced our offense to their denial of our invitations multiple times.  We still send them, of course, as is tradition.  We have for a few centuries at least.  A formal alliance would obviously require some act of rectification on the Council’s behalf, so therefore the only logical assumption to be made is that the girl was chosen for this mission specifically with that in mind.  She likely didn’t take an oath of celibacy or something of t—”

“All Jedi take oaths of celibacy,” Obi-Wan interjects with a startlingly unfamiliar edge to his voice, clearly warning her not to continue on in this direction.

”Oh, apologies; I misspoke,” she clarifies.  “She probably didn’t take an oath of celibacy seriously, or something of the sort.”

“Mind yourself, s’Zerthia,” he warns her.  “I care not of your position nor our history, you will not speak of my protégé that way—”

“Oh, she’s your protégé now?”  She grins, amusement flashing in her eyes.  “I see.  Because we both have been referring to her as your Padawan up until the moment someone other than you decided to insult her, so I wasn’t sure.  Forgive me.”

Obi-Wan flushes and opens his mouth once, twice.  He is quite honestly speechless at how his… long-time acquaintance is so truly gifted at creating sentences that somehow manage to turn themselves into icy daggers in midair, so instead, he takes a different approach.  “E-Even… even if you were slightly correct with that… a-absolutely baseless accusation, it makes no sense,” he reasons desperately, still trying to find some way out of all this.  “Breaking an oath of celibacy in her youth does not at all mean she’d be any more likely to lie with a s’Ziscari to complete a diplomatic mis—”

“No,” the Queen agrees, “it means she’d be more likely to lie with a Jedi.”

Obi-Wan stops dead.

She laughs, a soft tinkle of a sound, taking in the underlying shock of his demeanor.  “By all their faults, the Council is not stupid.”  She almost sounds… impressed.  “Think, Obi-Wan.  Pair the Greatest Negotiator in the Order with his newly ordained Knight?  The one young enough to not have the strict pillars of your cult of a religion so hopelessly cemented into her mindset?  The one who so very clearly considers you to be far more than a mentor to her?  The Council knew you’d be incredibly reluctant to bed anyone, let alone a stranger from the Uncharted Regions, but they also knew of our history as friends—if anyone in the Order was in a position to make the deal with me, it was you, so if anyone in the Order was in a position to therefore… persuade you to follow through with the conditions of said deal, it was her.  To gain ten thousand more Force sensitives and win a galactic war, all your Council had to do was shove two of their most agreeable Generals into bed with one another.  Beautifully executed, Machiavellian at its core.  Stars.  I knew politics suited the Jedi, but this is just…”

Obi-Wan feels his chest sinking deeper and deeper by the second as she kisses her fingers animatedly.

“…Masterful,” s’Zerthia finishes, turning to smile widely at him, positively delighted in her demeanor.  “I do say, I may have met my match in your superiors, Obi-Wan.  Perhaps they shall make better allies than I’d originally assumed.  If nothing else, this little display of cunning and manipulation gives me faith that perhaps the Republic isn’t so completely doomed after all.”

“Do you truly think they’d be so cruel?”  He finds himself asking quietly after a moment.

“These are times of war, old friend,” she tilts her head with as much solemn comfort in her voice as she can reasonably provide.  “They knew the terms, and they knew you wouldn’t agree if you knew them in advance.  This was the only way.  And honestly, should a… well, let’s face it, a rather attractive coupling be all that stands between the galaxy and total destruction, I’d say that may just be a fair price to pay.  My only lament thus far is your rather timid demeanor.  You two would’ve made for a crowd favorite.”

The Queen’s assertion startles him so much that Obi-Wan outright defaults back to skeptical pragmatism instead of entertaining elaborate and incredibly far-fetched conspiracy theories.  “Yes, yes, s’Zerthia, but—but this whole entire scheme hinges on the completely incorrect assumption that she and I would actually be willing… willing to…”  He can’t even finish the sentence.

“How old are you, Obi-Wan?”  She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow at him, thoroughly unimpressed with his sudden lack of articulation.  “We are of similar age, correct?  Are you outright incapable of saying the word ‘fuck’?”

“Quit being foul,” he snaps.  “It suits your personality, not your tongue.”

“So quick-witted in conversation for someone so incredibly dim-witted in practice,” she muses, as if this entire thing is incredibly entertaining to her.  “Do you really not see the way she looks at you?”

“She respects me,” Obi-Wan declares meaningfully.  “She’s loyal.  She thinks much higher of me than I deserve.  She’d stand alone in the face of an army if it pleased me and she’d stand tall—”

“That’s not the only position she’d assume to please you,” the Queen mutters under her breath, pausing to give him a sweet little smile as Obi-Wan burns a hole through her with his glare.  “The only variable remaining is your willingness to please her.  After all, the offer to lie with a s’Ziscari instead will always be up for the both of your considerations, as is the ability to walk away entirely at any time of course.  I’m assuming the Council was relying on the fact that you’d pitch an absolute fit after being informed her involvement was required—which, naturally, you did.  And then they gambled on the answer to a question you’ve yet to ask yourself.”  She leans forward and tilts her head at him, lacing her manicured fingers together.  “Perhaps it’s not a matter of how willing you are to sleep with your Padawan to save the galaxy from complete and total annihilation, Master Kenobi, but simply a matter of whether or not the clueless little thing will want it bad enough to be able to convince you to do it.  This—this is a real negotiation for her now.”

“s’Zerthia—” Obi-Wan sputters, “—I—She—I’ve traversed her consciousness more than anyone in the entire galaxy, and not once has she ever even hinted at the possibility that she—”

“And can you blame her?  My, the scandal it would cause!”  The Queen presses the back of her hand to her forehead and collapses dramatically back into her throne.  “A Jedi Knight secretly harboring feelings for her Master?  In my good temple?  Shame!  Shame!  Sha—!”

“You think you know more of my successor than I?”  Obi-Wan interrupts sharply, somehow more irritated now at the insinuation than he’d been the entire conversation.  “The youngling I raised?  The one I handpicked to take my place in the Order, you think you know more of her heart than I?”

“Yes.”  s’Zerthia answers him simply, straightening up on her throne and abandoning all theatrics.  “Because you did not see her face when you called her Padawan.  I did.  And I also happen to know far better than most that hiding the truth from nosy Force sensitive authoritarians is most easily accomplished by controlling one’s energy signature.  Jedi, s’Ziscari, it matters not the culture—you lot spend far too much effort reading into the Force than simply looking someone in their eyes to learn the truth.  Look her in the eyes next time, Master Kenobi.  Then you will understand.”

***

You’re furious.

The Jedi are not meant to feel fury.  But you are a Jedi, and by the Maker, do you feel it.

“Padawan?”  You hiss, pacing the length of your bedchamber with clenched fists, trying to control the volume of your voice so desperately that the words come out shaky and slurred.  “Padawan?  Is that what he thinks of me?  That I’m still a youngling?!”

You haven’t been this upset since you were a small child.  And the thought stops you dead in your tracks.

You are a General.  You are a Consular.  You are a Knight.

Regardless of what he may believe.

So you climb up onto your unnecessarily large bed, crawling the incredibly soft fur blanket of an animal you’ve never seen before to sit yourself in the very center of the mattress, crossing your legs.  Though it takes you longer than it has in years, you’re finally able to relax your breathing and clear your mind, slipping into a deep meditative state.

You don’t know how long you stay in that position, nor do you really care to. But when your Force signature feels the slightest brush of your Master’s, likely just looking for your location within the palace, you’re a bit too late in slamming your mental barriers up in response.  You know he still senses the reciprocal shove he gave you earlier, the shocking feeling of being practically hurled out of someone’s mind with unprecedented ferocity.  But he also knows where you are now.

So, like you’re a youngling at the Academy again, you just pretend to meditate.  Like an actual child, you close your eyes and focus on just sitting still.  You shouldn’t be responding this way, you tell yourself.  Restraining your emotional response has been hammered into you for decades—keeping calm when you’re upset is your default, it’s how you’ve lived your entire adult life.  Why can you not seem to accomplish it now?

What… what is this?  This toxic, absolutely dreadful emotion?  It's hard placing them sometimes when you were taught from infancy to just will them away instead of processing them.  It’s not fury, not anymore.  It isn’t sadness, either.  You’ve been sad—you’ve been sad for two years straight, and it feels nothing like this.

You’re throwing a tantrum, you realize.  That’s what this must be.  You’re reverting back to your childhood, back to when you felt discounted and disapproved of by nearly everyone around you.  You haven’t felt this way in years, not since you met Master Kenobi.  This is hurt.  Just pure, irrational, emotional pain, and it’s manifesting itself in truly ugly ways.

You can feel his signature glow just marginally brighter in the Force as your Master steadily approaches.  You take slow breaths, trying to rearrange yourself into something at least mildly composed and tranquil, but it feels almost impossible.  So instead, you just try to ignore the past few hours and think back on all the things your Master used to tell you when you were like this, this raging turmoil of emotions overtaking you and causing you to lash out.  

You are a Consular, child, he’d say, and if you focus, you can practically hear the musical cadence of his calm, comforting voice.  A peacekeeper.  A dove.  When faced with a locked door, what must you always do?

Master Kenobi’s knuckles rap on the entrance to your quarters quietly, and you blink your eyes open, taking another deep breath before replying.  “It’s open.”

The door opens and he takes a few steps inside the room, stopping immediately when he lifts his head up and sees you sitting on your bed.

You both stare at each other in silence for way too long, and you’re not… really sure why.  You’re obviously just waiting for him to say something, take the lead in this conversation since he was clearly a better fit to take the lead on this mission, but he just looks at you.  For an eternity, he looks at you.  Completely blank.

He suddenly jerks his spine straight and breaks eye contact with you, coughing and flicking bright blue eyes around the space as if he’s just noticing it.  “Ah, I… Apologies, this is the wrong room.  I thought… my quarters are—I must confer with the Council.  Please, excuse me.”

And then he turns around and leaves.

You blink a few times, wide-eyed and completely bewildered as the door slides shut behind his billowing cloak.

He… he knocked on the door to his own quarters?  And then… and then he waited for you to call him in?

What in Maker’s name is going on?

***

“This is unbelievable,” Obi-Wan sighs, and the hologram of Master Windu rubs his blue flickering temples in slow circles, looking equally as exasperated as Obi-Wan sounds.  “Did you know the Ritual was to take place tonight?”

“The Council had no idea,” the fellow Guardian murmurs, and something pulls tight in Obi-Wan’s chest, remembering the Queen’s assertion that the s’Ziscari continue to send invitations to the Council every year.  Perhaps… perhaps there was some sort of an oversight, he thinks, due to the Clone Wars taking precedence for the Order.  “Intel told us she’d be off-planet for at least another week.”

Well now, that doesn’t make much sense, not if the Ritual is to begin soon.  None of what Master Windu has said throughout the conversation has made any sense at all regarding the situation.  Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan thought he’d feel better after speaking to another member of the Council, not more uncertain.

“What does Master Yoda think of all this?”  He eventually tries, but the holographic projection of Master Windu sighs and tilts his head regretfully, his upper body flickering and waving with intermittent static.

“Master Yoda is currently dispatched to Rugosa to convince King Katuunko to allow the Republic to build a base in Toydarian territory,” he replies solemnly, and Obi-Wan… needs to meditate.  Yes.  Meditation sounds like a phenomenal idea.  “Are you certain there is no more room for negotiating?”

“An ultimatum was given,” Obi-Wan says shortly.  “These are the terms.”

Master Windu takes quite a while before responding, but when he does, he speaks calmly and with purpose, addressing him with a formal opinion.  “Then the Council will leave this matter up to the discretions of you and your former Padawan, Master Kenobi.  This mission designation has hereby been elevated to the highest level of classified and your subsequent choices need not be reported, nor will they affect either of your places in the Order.  May the Force guide you and be with you both through these uncertain times.”

The transmission is cut and Obi-Wan feels his insides twist.  

He collapses onto his bed and groans quietly, burying his face in his hands and finding it easier to just conceal his Force signature altogether than attempt to mask the anxiety and crushing pressure he feels threatening to overwhelm him.

This is not good.  This is, in fact, very much a disaster.  This is a mess.  This is far worse than anything he could’ve possibly imagined when he was first assigned to this mission.  

Obi-Wan slowly rakes all ten of his fingers down the sides of his beard, lifting his chin and then letting them drag all the way down his throat, and the quiet scratchy sound it makes mixes in with another longer, even more exhausted groan.

Maker.  First things first, he needs to apologize to you and explain the situation.  Neither one of those things will be easy to accomplish, but in the grand scheme, they’ll be far simpler than anything else facing him.

He… he takes a second to think about you, about the awful way he unintentionally disrespected you earlier.  Stars—he handled this terribly.  He was caught off guard and he owes you an explanation, but he’s at a complete loss as to how to go about it.

And why… Why must you have been sitting on your bed?  Staring up at him silently, waiting for him atop the very place he’s just been given permission to… to…

Obi-Wan shakes his head and clamps his eyes shut, rubbing them with a bit too much vigor to be from tiredness and stress alone.  He should meditate.  He should meditate, let his mind break free of the nerves and sudden change of events, but he doesn’t have time to even begin unscrambling the chaos of his thoughts.  It’s getting late, and he has an obligation to tell you about the situation as soon as possible, to give you as much time as he can to process the decision facing you before the clock runs out.

He’s dreading this.  He’s absolutely dreading it, but it needs to be done.

***

After your Master leaves, less than a half hour passes before you hear another knock on the door.

By then, you’re just sitting there.  Sitting there, empty.  This is good, really.  Truly, this is a good thing.  A flat emotional state is what you should always strive for, but… nothing about it feels like peace, really.  No, this just feels… grey.  Desaturated.  Dull.

“It’s open,” you call once again, and Master Kenobi quietly enters your chambers.  This time you don’t look at him, though.  You don’t really… feel the need to, especially from the way his signature is still just barely presenting itself to you, still so guarded and cautious around you when he’s never been this way before.

Your Master comes to a stop right in front of the edge of the mattress, and stands there for a few moments in silence.  You just blink down at the mattress and wait, undisturbed, until you hear him heave a long, heavy sigh, before spinning around and unceremoniously sinking down to the floor at the foot of the bed.

Something about it breaks through your blank, almost dissociative state.  Your eyebrows narrow just slightly where your gaze is pinned to the fur covering the mattress, hearing him sigh heavily once more out of your line of sight, but it’s enough to urge you to crawl forward until you can see him sitting on the floor at the foot of the mattress, bent over on himself, his head buried in his hands.  You’ve never seen your Master look so… vulnerable before.  So small—not in all the years you’ve known each other.  His energy is so concealed that you’re just barely able to sense anything besides the mere presence of his signature, but he’s clearly distraught with just as much emotion you were struggling with earlier, and suddenly…

Suddenly a calmness sweeps through you.  A gentle sort of kindness fills your soul, slowly flooding your energy with color once again at the sight of someone who’s usually so composed struggling so openly in front of you.

Carefully, you lower yourself down until you’re seated on the floor next to him, your back pressed up against the side of the mattress as he continues to hide his face from you.  You stay there, not touching him, not saying anything, but just radiating a steady tranquility through the room from the very center of your being, anchoring him through his storm until it clears.

The sun goes down through the window before either of you speak.  Your Master eventually drops his hands from his face and takes a deep breath, choosing to break the silence first.

“Before I begin,” he finally says, his shoulders still uncharacteristically tight and full of tension, even though his voice is soft.  “I must… I must sincerely apologize to you.  This type of subject matter makes me extraordinarily uncomfortable and I took that out on you, and it was absolutely unacceptable behavior on my behalf.  Unfortunately, I can offer you no explanation that wouldn't count as an excuse for something that was completely inexcusable.”

“I understand,” you reassure him, just as quietly, but then quickly correct yourself.  “Well, no—I don’t.  I don’t understand, but.  Judging from your demeanor, I can only assume things have become… a bit more complicated.”

Your Master takes another full, deep inhale.  “Yes, that’s…” he empties his lungs of air with a huff, amused but in a way that’s not really amused.  “That’s certainly one way of putting it.”

“Do you…”  You blink at the floor, still keeping your voice and energy as gentle as possible.  “Just—before… before you begin… Do you truly think of me as your Padawan still?”

“No,” he answers firmly.  Immediately, and with less hesitation than anything he’s said so far.  “I do not.”

You nod, the finality in his tone leading you to believe that’s the end of his sentence, but then he eventually lowers his voice and continues.

“But sometimes, I…”  Your Master sounds conflicted, like he’s not sure he should be saying this aloud.  He still hasn’t looked at you.  “I find myself… wishing you were.  That we could go back to those days, the days before the war.  Before fighting armies, and leading them… and now recruiting them.  The happiest and most fulfilling days of my life were spent with you by my side, young one.  I am not telling you this in an attempt to justify or defend my actions in any way, I am telling you this simply because I don’t want an egregious misunderstanding of this magnitude to continue to fester between us when it can be addressed right here and now.  In the face of incredible discomfort, I selfishly reverted the terms of our relationship back to what they were two years ago—not because I subconsciously think of you as my Padawan still or that I somehow haven’t recognized your unprecedented list of accomplishments as a Knight—but because you, the former title, and the nature of the relationship it entails were the only things familiar to me when everything else around was so incredibly and uncomfortably foreign.  I humbly beg your forgiveness for ever allowing you to spend a single second of your time thinking differently, never mind hours of it.”

You blink, startled by the sudden articulation and sincerity of the apology.  “I—it’s… it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Master Kenobi softly counters, “but your forgiveness is greatly appreciated, no matter how undeserved.”

You smile at him.  It’s one of those gentle, sad smiles—the kind of smile that would feel fake if it wasn’t for the comfort you’re trying to provide with it.  Carefully, you place a hand on the bend of his knee.  “Do you have a place you’d like to start, or would it be easier for you if I asked specific questions?”

He looks at you.  Finally.  For the first time, his clear blue eyes rise to meet yours and he looks… grateful.  “Ask.  Please.  That would be so much better.”

“A ritual begins tonight,” you say after a moment, studying his handsome facial features for some kind of confirmation of the information you’ve managed to piece together, but then your Master abruptly breaks eye contact with you and lowers his gaze once more.  “Yet the Sentinels historically choose not to partake.  Why?”

“Because… the Ritual… contains proceedings that stand in direct opposition to the values and teachings of the Jedi,” he explains to the floor.  “It goes against the core pillars of our religion to even spectate.  The Uncharted Regions are… different.  They follow neither the laws nor the customs of the Republic.  It was decided long ago to politely decline their invitations, though we offered many times to meet during another time of the year.  The Council had no idea the Queen would take this much offense.”

You have to ask.  It’s important for you to know, but his rather vague explanation serves to peak your trepidation just as much as it does your curiosity.  “…What is…”  Maker, you’ve gone unbelievably quiet.  “What is the Ritual, Master?”

Obi-Wan goes just as quiet, looking down at his hands as they fiddle idly in his lap.  “Ah.  Yes.  That.  Well, the—th-the Ritual is, uh.  Uh—”

You blink softly at him and his abrupt loss of articulation, trying to rearrange your expression to be encouraging without appearing too eager.

He suddenly cuts himself off and looks up at you, pinning you with an ocean-deep blue gaze once more.  “It’s a celebration of fertility.”

You blink once more at him, this time quite stupidly.

“People are encouraged to be intimate with each other.  Openly.  Shameless displays of fornication between two consenting adults are commonplace in almost every conceivable forum, said to permanently connect the s’Ziscari to one another through the Force—which is why they usually project throughout the act.  In fact, they even have a gathering here at the palace capital, an ‘opening ceremony’ of sorts where people… perform.  It’s debauchery disguised as a holiday.”

You… for some reason, the fact that he stares so intently at you while he says it makes your reaction marginally subtler.  He gives away no emotion as he takes in how your mouth has formed a soft O shape, how a solemn understanding seems to flood through you.  Of course he’d have incredible trouble with something like this.  And somehow it’s only then that you fully forgive him for his previous mishaps and mistakes on this mission.  You understand now, you get it.

“Ah.  Okay.  And… and in exchange for the s’Ziscari’s assistance in the Clone Wars, they want us to… what, exactly?”  Maker, why is your throat so dry?

“They’ve presented the ultimatum of either walking away from the deal entirely or partaking from the privacy of these chambers,” he answers.  “Together.”

Okay, so your reaction is a bit more pronounced this time.

Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second, all the breath in your lungs whooshing out at once.  Maker, it’s like he punched you in the chest.  Muscle memory alone allows you to almost completely muffle the burst of shock that radiates through the Force, but your face is still a dead giveaway.

Is this… is this a trial?  Are you hallucinating?  Perhaps a vision, if it wasn’t so beyond ludicrous or had any basis in reality whatsoever.  How many vaguely similar scenarios have you imagined throughout the duration of Obi-Wan’s tutelage?  And yet never has one been so incredibly creative.  Or elaborate.

And then, the thought suddenly hits you.

Oh.  Oh, no, this is dangerous.

It’s one thing to harbor a dark, hidden crush on your Master for years, something you refuse to even let yourself think about most of the time.  It’s one thing to learn how to bury your needs deep down and refuse to let them see the light of day, to learn how to build a mental fortress around a dirty, terrible secret from your youth and guard it with a saber and matching ferocity.  This is the way of the Jedi.

It’s another thing entirely to have it offered to you on a silver platter.  To be given just a sample of Darkness, knowing you’ll never have anything close to it ever again.

***

Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s studied your face this closely in his entire life.

It feels almost… unnatural, how meticulously he’s trying to read your expressions.  Outwardly, you don’t appear to be anything more than surprised, really.  Not horrified at the idea, just… stunned.

“What did you tell them?”  You eventually ask him.

“That I’d need to discuss it with the Council first,” Obi-Wan answers carefully, “and then that I’d need to discuss it with you.  And I’d make a decision by midnight, when the Ritual is to begin.”

And—there.  He sees it.  Your Force signature continues to radiate a gentle calmness outwards, unwavering and unbothered in its beautiful gradient of pale greens and chartreuses and golds, brilliantly contrasting with the cool blues and periwinkles of Obi-Wan’s own signature, but there’s a flash of… something in your eyes, and he sees it for maybe a split second before it’s gone completely.

What did he say?  What did he say?  He tries quickly to remember.  That he’d need to discuss it with the Council first, and then that he’d need to… 

Obi-Wan sighs, instantly realizing his mistake.  He both openly admitted and proved to valuing the opinion of the Council over yours.  He valued the collective opinion of a group of Jedi tens of thousands of light years away who put you in the middle of this ghastly situation more than your opinion.  You.  The only other person directly involved with this absolute shipwreck of a negotiation, even though you never asked to be.  The person whose opinion on such a delicate situation should’ve mattered the most.

Stars, s’Zerthia was right.  Has he always been this blind?

“Though… though now I realize that was incredibly dismissive of me.”  Obi-Wan’s head drops and his hand comes up to cover and rub at his eyes, feeling halfway stuck between amused at his endless list of mistakes and miserable at how they’ve affected you.  “I’ve done absolutely nothing right on this mission so far, young one.  And you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.  The Queen of the s’Ziscari said you’re likely the best the Order has to offer and I’m very quickly beginning to see her point.”

You jerk back comically.  “She said that?”

He peeks an eye open at you through his fingers, watching you look at him like he’s grown two heads.  “…Yes?”

“And not as an insult to the rest of the Jedi?”

Obi-Wan drags his hand down his beard, trying to hold the corners of his mouth down, but it does nothing to stop the small smile that begins to peek through.  So he doesn’t try to hide it.  He just smiles at you, exasperated but so incredibly fond, shaking his head meaningfully.  You sit there and stare at him with your mouth hanging open, completely discombobulated, and Obi-Wan actually begins to chuckle quietly to himself, marveling at how your reaction to the praise practically doubles its sentiment.

You’re the only one who’s been able to make him truly laugh in the past two years.  You did it despite his wild discomfort concerning the unfortunate situation the two of you have found yourselves in.  You did it despite the foreign territory, the foreign government, the foreign planet, the foreign customs, and the foreign subject matter.  And you did it all entirely unprompted, despite everything he’s done to wrong you.

“The lady in the big chair?  The one with the fingernails?”  You lift your hand up and wiggle your fingers, both looking and sounding like a droid in need of a hard reboot.  “The fingernail lady, she said this?”

“Why is that so surprising to you?”  Obi-Wan asks with a gentle grin, leaning back to rest his shoulder blades against the bed, his muscles considerably less tense than they were even just two minutes ago.

“Because I don’t—?  People don’t—??”  You wave your hands around uselessly.  “I’m not used to… that.”

“To what?”  He prompts, still not removing his attention from your face.

“High praise?  I mean—I spent years being told that I was quite possibly the worst of the Jedi,”  you laugh awkwardly, and then you change the subject too quickly, like you’re attempting to fill the silence before it can be read into too much.  “Not to mention she looked positively delighted when I was dismissed.”

There it is again, he thinks, your eyes once more betraying your signature, tone, and countenance.  He only allows himself a beat to silently vow to himself to consciously voice his recognition of your dedication and achievements more often.  It’s just… with the right ratio of patience and prompting, he always thought you were such a brilliant student.  Obi-Wan is unable to recall the exact moment as a teacher he began to recognize any positive trait you exhibited in his presence as simply part of your hidden, untapped given character instead of a very purposeful mindset you had to actively work to embody.  Perhaps the true reason he’s so skeptical about s’Zerthia’s assertion that you care more for him than you let on is because he cannot possibly fathom why.  Not when it feels like he’s spent years by your side and is only somehow only just now seeing you.

“Ah, yes, well,” Obi-Wan says, easily glossing over his quiet moment of contemplation without arousing any suspicion, “the Queen is arguably obsessed with seeing how much torture a person can endure without actually having any physical pain inflicted upon them.  She gets bored, see.  Not many visitors to the Uncharted Regions.  She likes to play games with her guests whenever they do arrive.”

You quirk a brow at him.  “Then shouldn’t she have revelled in my suffering instead of defending me because of it?”

“I’d say she’s entirely capable of doing both, especially considering just how torturous it was for me to sit there and be reminded of all the many different ways this has been so terribly unfair to you,” he admits softly.  “She paid you the compliment as a direct commendation for enduring such mistreatment and still leaving the walls of her palace standing.”

Your expression goes blank again, and Maker, this is more difficult than he thought it’d be.  It’s a legitimate challenge to gauge your emotional state when you’ve so clearly mastered your control over your energy signature, to a degree of which Obi-Wan was almost entirely unaware before today.

“You’re sure this is the only way?”  You eventually ask.  “We either do this together or we go back empty-handed?  That’s it?  No other options?”

Obi-Wan takes exactly zero seconds to consider the implication behind his answer before confirming your assertion with a solemn nod.  “No other options.  I’m sorry, young one.”

Later, he’ll reason he refused to present the Queen’s first suggestion to you because he couldn’t agree to the terms, even if you could.  It would be of no use for you to share your bed with a s’Ziscari when he was incapable or unwilling to do the same.  Yes, that makes… logical sense, he supposes.  Right now he just has far too many things on his mind to contemplate it, and the sudden reminder of the situation he’s in causes his heart to start beating faster in his chest.

“Okay.  Well…” You look uncertain, your eyebrows furrowing slightly even as your energy continues to glow soft and undisturbed from the center of your being.  “Well, what are—what are your… concerns?  Is there anything I could do to make this easier for you?”

Because Obi-Wan has absolutely no clue how to answer that question, he just keeps quiet.  He supposes it shouldn’t be so surprising that the Uncharted Regions feature so much… uncharted territory.  He truly doesn’t know how to go about this; upon explanation of the situation, he had hoped you’d supply a firm no so that the burden of choice was taken away from him.  He doesn’t want to offend you, but at the same time, the more you’re not directly protesting against the idea, the faster his heart begins to pound in terror at the realization that… breaking a sacred vow he’s honored his entire life is quickly becoming a very likely probability.

And also… why?  Why are you able to be so… calm about this?  Why are you not panicking and struggling with this decision the same way he is?  When s’Zerthia first suggested you’ve already broken your oath of celibacy, Obi-Wan didn’t want to believe it, yet here you are��asking him if there’s anything you can do to make this easier for him when both of you should be having a crisis about this hypothetical.  Are virgins typically so considerate?  Is he just being over-dramatic about this?  Is this just a manifestation of the serene hue of your saber reaffirming itself?  Is this just your cool head prevailing when the one person you’ve spent years looking to for guidance is clearly on the verge of spiraling?

Why?  Why aren’t you protesting more?

“Are we actually going to do this?”  You ask after a moment, and Obi-Wan unintentionally cringes.  Good Maker above, he truly doesn’t mean to.  It has almost nothing to do with you—in fact, he can only assume you're genuinely trying your best to adapt to the unfortunate twist of events, and you’re actually managing to be somewhat successful where Obi-Wan is just hopelessly, miserably failing.  You must be just trying to maintain some sort of base foundation for his turbulent mental state, but—but then he sees another flash of emotion in your eyes at the way he flinches away from the question.

He opens his mouth to respond—to apologize, or… stars, something, but then you supply a quick reassurance instead.  “I won’t—I won’t take offense, if you need me to, you know,” you shrug, very much avoiding his gaze and your voice suddenly sounding incredibly small.  “I don’t know.  Not make any sounds?  Or hide my face?  Or… something?”

“You’re…”  Obi-Wan’s mind, previously struggling with far too many chaotic, rapid-fire thoughts, suddenly can’t seem to conjure a single one of them.  “You’re… serious?”

“It’s not a big deal—” you quickly tell him, “—either way, we don’t have to make it a big deal.  I mean, I wouldn’t want it to be… It doesn’t have to be… terrible for you, or anything.”

Maker, is that what you think?  That this isn’t a ‘big deal’?  He stares at you, the word you used resonating with him.  Terrible.  On one hand, of course it’s terrible—the whole thing is terrible, it’s something out of an ancient Jedi parable he was told as a youngling, about the sins of passion leading to the Dark Side.  On the other hand, he knows you can’t possibly mean it like that, and… you’re somehow managing to interpret this conflict all wrong.  Asking him if he needs you to hide your face?

He eventually shakes his head just slightly.  “I… No.  No, young one, I will not…” he clears his throat, “I will not… require such a thing.”

Though neither of you say anything for quite a long time after that, the loud knock on the door still feels like it’s interrupting a crucial moment.

You quickly call that it’s open, and Obi-Wan turns his head to see the door swing forward and two s’Ziscari in thin black robes, standing in the hallway.  A man and a woman.

His heart suddenly thunders against his ribcage and he scrambles to remember the hour.  It can’t be midnight yet, no, he needs more time—

The male s’Ziscari says something in his native tongue, and the woman calmly translates to Basic.  “Her Majesty the Queen formally requests your presence in the great hall for dinner and the start of the festivities.”

“Respectfully,” you nod at the guard while Obi-Wan struggles to regain himself, “if it pleases her Majesty, Master Kenobi and I would prefer to eat in our quarters tonight, as we are still discussing the nature of our potential involvement in the festivities.”

The woman repeats back your polite and much appreciated response to the guard, and he looks between you two, before clearing his throat and saying something that sounds remarkably similar to his first sentence.  The translator turns back to you both.  “Her Majesty formally and… firmly requests your presence in the great hall for dinner and the start of the festivities.”

When you don’t respond, Obi-Wan suddenly realizes you’re waiting for him to speak.

“Very well,” he eventually sighs, reminding himself that you both are still guests on this planet.  “We shall be there momentarily.”

Regardless of the language barrier, the guard appears to understand the sentiment of his response through the Force, not needing a translation.  He says something and then turns to leave as the woman walks into the room, revealing a black bundle of fabric from behind her back to drape along one of the side tables.  “Zashir is currently placing your ceremonial robes in your quarters, General Kenobi.  If there will be nothing else?”

Maker, his what?  Obi-Wan’s pulse stutters.  “I’m sure that—that won’t be necessary, my lady—”

“It will be,” she nods shortly.  “If there will be nothing else.”

And then she spins around and walks out without bothering to wait for an answer.  You blink at the closed door as Obi-Wan drops his head and pinches the bridge of his nose once more, so far beyond stressed concerning how tragically the events of this cursed mission are unfolding that he almost wants to laugh.

“Something tells me the s’Ziscari don’t like the Jedi too much,” you offer after a moment of silence.

“Nonsense,” he counters, lifting his head and sighing helplessly, apparently reverting to sarcasm when everything else he knows is all but ripped away from him.  “Wherever could you have gathered that?”

Obi-Wan eventually moves to struggle up to his feet—struggle, being the key word, if only to maintain some essence of behavioral uniformity throughout these past  few hours—when he suddenly feels your hand on his elbow.

He glances down at you, your soft features and gentle eyes blinking up at him in his half-standing position next to you.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” you remind him quietly.  “Either way.  Not a big deal.”

It’s strange.  He knows your primary intent is to put his mind at ease, but everything you’ve been saying just seems… too disconnected.  Good people are dying as you speak—civilians, children, innocents, you both know this, and yet… 

Perhaps… perhaps Obi-Wan is simply just too emotional right now, too chaotic.  He’s certainly not being fair to you.  He realizes he’s responding negatively no matter how you’re attempting to go about reassuring him, and though he recognizes it, it’s more difficult than it’s ever been to reign in his mental state.

He clears his throat.  “The Queen has assured us that we are free to decline her offer and walk away at any time.  Her only stipulation is that we’ll have until midnight to… i-initiate the…”

Stars.  Initiate the what?  Is this a self-destruct sequence?  It may as well be, Obi-Wan thinks, but you nod your understanding and rise to your feet nonetheless, far more gracefully than he does.

“Well,” you sigh, walking over to the side table and pulling the black robe off of it, turning to face him and balling the silky fabric in your hands awkwardly.  “Uh.  I guess.  Fate of the galaxy awaits, and all.”

And then he sees you wince, your subtle call-back to the beginning of this mission landing flat and clearly not contrasting well with your previous assertion to him that this is no big deal, but… for some reason the mistake and subsequent display of self-consciousness makes Obi-Wan relax just marginally.  Even if you’re not necessarily panicking, at least you’re still clearly nervous, and that fact alone is more reassuring than anything anyone has said to him since this disaster first started.

“Yes,” he murmurs with a companionable, albeit hesitant smile, patting your shoulder just once before moving to leave.  “The… the fate of the galaxy.”

Stars.  He’s… well.

Fucked, isn’t he?

[nalledimessi]

Chapter three: Blood.

Hello there friends, hope that all of you are great. Well, I don't know what to said, even sometimes I think I speak to much and sometimes I feel like the middle child, but anyway...

Don't forget to to like, leave a comment and reblog if you enjoy it! It means the work to me!

@imgoingtofreakoutnow Congrats on your exams Annie, you deserve a rest for the great job on them! I still can't thank you enough. You know I'm here for you, love.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, drinking blood, making love and flashbacks.

Tag's: @valsworldofcreativity @avala-moon @r13mar @drwho-ess

If you haven't read the previous chapters click below!

< Chapter two: Confrontations.

Elijah bows his head, the veins under his dark eyes showing on his face. He opens his mouth while his fangs become visible, all in one single action, and sinks them in the neck of his human blood bag. He can hear how the heart is starting to slow down more and more with each sip he takes, but he’s unable to calm his thirst.

“Elijah!” Rebekah’s voice stops him before he drains completely the girl in front of him.

He pulls apart from the neck, bringing his wrist to his own mouth, biting it and taking it to the human’s mouth to allow her to drink some of his blood. Then he looks her in the eyes. “Forget this ever happened and continue your way” he instructs her using compulsion.

“Thank you, Rebekah.” He cleans the last remnants of blood from his mouth with his handkerchief. “I may say I’m not myself lately”

“Not just lately Elijah, but since she’s gone” she declares.

“You’re correct.” He puts his handkerchief in his pocket, then stands straight next to her.

She crosses her arms. “As much as I hate to say this brother, I think you should stick to blood bags until we bring her back. At least if I don’t come with you” she suggests to him.

“I will consider it” he utters, heading outside the alley they are in.

Rebekah vamp-speeds in front of him. “I’m serious Elijah”

“And I said I would consider it, Rebekah” he roars at her, his eyes darker and veins beneath them.

“You won’t find her if you end up with a dagger in your chest on a coffin” she reminds him.

He takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes, trying to regain control. “You’re right, I’ll do it.” Taking another deep breath, he then turns to face her. “I just need some air. I will see you at home.” He takes her hand and squeezes it softly. “I won’t do anything that’ll prevent me from getting her back”

“Call me if you need anything” she says before leaving him alone.

He gets out of the alley letting his feet carry him away, maybe somehow to you. He walks from the bourbon street to the Café Du Monde; he walks inside and purchases a few beignets to then start his way to what used to be your shared home.

“Hey” you greet Elijah from your seat, reclined on the arm of the sofa, your legs under you while reading a book.

“I brought you beignets.” He raises a bag while walking towards you.

You lift your sight from the book to look at him with a sweet smile. “You definitely know how to spoil me, Mikaelson”

He leans in to kiss you and then sits next to you while looking at you eating a beignet. “I haven’t seen that grimoire before, is it mine?” he asks.

You shake your head, taking a bite of your piece of dough. “Mine” you answer with some of it filling your mouth. “I found an interesting spell” you explain once you finish your bite.

“And what makes this spell so interesting?” he questions, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s called ‘De vampiri conceptu’ ” you reveal to him, reaching with your hand his tie to unfasten it.

“The conception of vampires” he translates with a smile on his face, knowing where this is going.

You move so you can be on his lap. “We both know vampires can’t procreate,” you say, stating a fact, “but we both love to try” you finish, slightly moving your hips, teasing him.

He places his hands on your hips, his fingers slipping under your blouse and caressing your skin. “And this particular spell tells you what to do?”

“Actually, it does.” You lean closer to his ear. “And it says to make love while we share blood” you whisper, kissing his sensitive spot below his ear where his jaw starts.

He stands up quickly with you in his arms, hands on your thighs to keep you from falling. You immediately wrap your legs to his waist while he claims your mouth. “Let’s take this upstairs then” he growls, carrying you to your bed.

“Sammy!” you shout, crying for him locked in your bathroom. “Sam!”

“[Y/N?]” You hear Dean worried voice on the other side of the door. “Open the door, [Y/N]” he requests when he hears you sob.

You unlock the door and collapse in his arms. “There was… blood” you whisper, wrapped tight in his hug.

His thoughts immediately go to your baby. “Let’s go” he says, pulling you with him to the door, “let’s take you to the doctor, now”

He leads the way to the Impala, placing you on the seat and driving to your obstetrician —thank God he overheard from Sam where it’s located.

“What if I- I-” You don’t finish your sentence because you start crying again.

“Hey, hey...” Dean takes your hand in his as he parks in the clinic parking lot. “Look at me,” he asks you, focusing your attention on him, “the baby will be fine. Its part of you and you’re the most stubborn and badass person I know. He, or she, will be fine” he affirms once more while squeezing your hand. “We’re here just to confirm it, ok?” You nod. “Alright” he says before releasing your hand and running to your side to open the door.

The nurse rushes you in after your explanation while Dean waits for you seated on the chair of the waiting room; he lays his head to the wall closing his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts when his phone start ringing.

“Yeah?” he answers without looking at it.

“Where are you Dean? [Y/N] is with you?” Sam asks in a hurry.

“She’s with me, don’t worry Sam.” He stays silent for a few moments. “Don’t freak out,” he requests, “but we’re at the clinic”

“It’s- is [Y/N] alright? The baby? I’m on my way.” Dean could hear him moving on his end.

“I told you not to freak out!” he reminded him. “Don’t come, try to contact Cas in case we need him” he tells him.

“Alright, keep me posted.”

“I will” he assures before hanging up. After a few more minutes he starts to pace from side to side of the room until he sees you coming out of the door. He walks directly towards you. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes” you only answer and raise your arms to show him a photograph in white and black.

He takes it from your hands and examines it, trying to figure out what it is without luck. “What’s this?”

“That is my baby.” You point to a small curve on the ultrasound.

He looks it again and then turns to you with a smile. “It looks like a shrimp”

“Not for long” you smile back, watching the longing in his eyes.

“Let’s go, Sammy should be worried sick by now” he says before pulling you out of the clinic.

Dean places the key in the car, ready to start the engine, but doesn’t. He passes a hand over his face and exhales. “I know this isn’t my place to say, but you should tell him…” he stops to damp his lips, “Elijah has the right to know”

“Dean, I-”

He extends a hand to you. “Let me finish,” he turns to look at you. “I don’t know him but I know you. He must be a good man if you fell in love with him, apart from being an original vampire, but even I would like to know if I were to be a father.” He turns away from you to look out of the window. “I just need time. I need to get used to the idea that my baby sister is having a baby and who the father is...” —you knew he doesn’t like to speak about his feelings and he isn’t good when those same feelings involve you or Sammy— “but that… that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you or the baby. I’m here for both of you that is what family is for” he finishes, still avoiding eye contact with you.

You lean over him and deposit a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Dean.” Seeing how his cheeks turn bright red, you chuckle.

“Now, let’s get you something to eat and those things that the doctor told you” he announces, switching back to his usual mood.

Chapter four: Symptoms >

[winterbanner]

I Would Give Her the Stars (Bruce Banner/ Reader)

Summary: "In that moment I would have gone to the ends of the universe if she pleased. I would have given her all the stars in the galaxy." 

Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Slight Angst, This Is Really Cute 

Word Count: 1684

Warnings: None except for some brief language

Paring: Bruce Banner x Fem Reader (uses she/her pronouns)

Additional Note: I rewrote this because it was absolutely awful. I think it’s better now! ;)

It was early, the tower was absent of noise with the exception of the whistling tea kettle sat upon the stove. Tony and I had been working all night to calibrate a new GPS system for the quinjet. It was hard work that required precision and concentration. That was hard to perform, however, when my lab partner was blasting Black Sabbath as if he were at some sort of underground warehouse party. 

My eyes ached from staring at my screen for so many hours, the throbbing synced with that of the headache that had crept its way up to my temples. I just couldn’t take the work any longer, which is something I don’t often say. I have a passion for lab work; I mean, I wouldn’t have seven PHDs in the sciences if I didn’t. That night, however, I needed an escape. 

I needed to go see her. 

I knew where she’d be. Up on the rooftop, staring out over the urban skyline. That’s where she went  to think after her attempts to get some rest were tried and failed. New York truly is the city that never sleeps, and neither does Y/N. 

I rummaged through the cupboard until I had retrieved her favorite mug, and paired it with the one she had gifted me last month. There had been no special occasion, she said she saw it and thought of me. It was one of those novelty mugs you find at convenience stores. On the front were the words “science is my bitch” written in a large bold font. I laughed the hardest I had in months after opening that gift. The rest of the team gives me weird looks whenever I use it, but that mug was the first gift I had received in a very long time. 

I took the kettle off the stove and prepared the two mugs of tea. One spoonful of honey, just how Y/N liked it. Afterwards I made my way to the elevator before requesting JARVIS take me to my destination. As I began my ascent my nerves began to get the best of me. I have this habit of second guessing myself, of letting my mind spiral into anxiousness. These thoughts, however, came to a halt as the elevator doors opened to reveal Y/N sat upon her chair serenely gazing out over the bustling city streets. 

At the sound of the elevator ding she turned her head, her lips curving upwards into a smile as she took in my presence. 

Y/N always smiled when I walked in the room. 

“Well hey there genius” she greeted, her grinning face illuminated by that of the dimmed roof lighting, and the neon glow of the Avengers symbol plastered on the front of the tower. 

“Hey Y/N, um- I brought tea.” I responded, gesturing the two mugs I held in my hands. 

“Somebody pinch me. Not only has Dr. Banner escaped from his natural habitat, but he also comes bearing gifts! I’m in shock.” 

I laughed heartily, “Well, my natural habitat has been invaded by a wild and obnoxious Tony Stark.” I responded. 

“Anybody who manages to survive Stark is more than welcome here. Besides you've been down in that lab for hours, you’re gonna fucking suffocate if you don’t get some fresh air.” She said as she gave the seat next to her a pat, thus signaling her wish for me to sit there. 

I thanked her before sitting down and handing her the cup of tea. “Careful it’s hot.” I warned, not wanting her to burn her hands on the hot ceramic. As I handed over the mug I felt her fingers lightly brush over mine, causing my heart to flutter. 

She thanked me in return before reminding me that she always enjoyed my company. Her words filled my chest with a warmth that I rarely feel nowadays. A warmth that I only feel when I’m with her.  

Afterwards we sat and conversed for what felt like both several hours, and a few minutes all at the same time. Conversation with Y/N flowed with ease, our topics ranging from the books we were currently reading, philosophy and politics, to Thor’s new obsession with microwaved popcorn. I couldn’t care less what we talked about, the only thing that mattered was that I was with her, and it seems as though she just might have felt the same way. 

I have always considered myself to be an awkward person. Social interactions were never really my forte, especially after the accident. With the big guy around, I didn’t think that anybody would want to be friendly with me. I assumed that everyone was afraid. With Y/N, however, it was different. She never once looked at me with fear in her eyes. Her disposition was so warm, so welcoming. If I ever needed someone to talk to I knew she’d be there, and she knew I was there if she ever needed the same. Around her I could be myself. She just felt safe. 

After a while I noticed she had grown quiet, her mind drifting off to somewhere else. She sat in her chair, her head tilted upward towards the sky, her brow furrowed in deep thought. 

“You okay?” I asked, concerned that she was upset.

 “Yeah, I just- I wish I could see the stars.”

I looked up, my eyes met with the inky blackness that was the New York sky, all of its stars drowned out by the light pollution and smog. 

“Yeah, it really is a shame isn’t it?” I questioned, receiving an affirming hum from her in return.

At that point we both sat quietly, our eyes transfixed on the sky above in search for the stars that were never going to appear. The silence settled between us comfortably. I knew she was getting ready to say something, but I couldn’t be sure what. 

“When I was a kid,” she began, “We lived in this house out in the country. Out there the stars were breathtaking. You could see every constellation so clearly.” 

I saw her lips curve upwards in response to the happy memories replaying in her mind. 

“Before my mom died, whenever I was upset or stressed out, she would take me out to the backyard. Together we would lay in the grass and just stare up at the sky. We would stay like that for hours; it was peaceful.” 

Her head dropped, her eyes now gazing forward onto the cityscape before us. “I miss that”, she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

In that moment, as I observed her melancholic gaze. I wanted nothing more than to give her what she wanted, to give her the stars.

Then after a moment of thought, I realized that I could. 

                                    ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next night I found her in the very same spot, looking over the city lights and skyscrapers unable to sleep once more. 

At the sound of the elevator’s ding she turned to face me , her lips once again forming a smile at the sight of my presence. 

“Two nights in a row?” Y/N questioned, “ That big brain of yours must be really fucking tired.” 

“Actually,” I said,  “this big brain of mine has something to show you.” I waved my hand signaling for her to follow me. 

She smiled in both confusion and amusement as she stepped into the elevator. We stood side by side, our shoulders brushing up against one another as we made our descent down to the lab. 

“Now close your eyes.” I requested 

“Bruce what is this-” 

“It’s a surprise, now close your eyes.”

She complied, the corners of her lips turning upwards as I grabbed her hand and led her down the hall to the lab. I led her to the center of the room and requested her remain there as I went and turned off every light I could find within the vicinity. Afterwards I felt my way back to her through the darkness and positioned myself so we stood directly in front of one another. 

“Okay now open your eyes.” 

“Bruce, is the surprise the news that I’ve gone blind?” she questioned causing us both to laugh. 

“No, just watch.” 

At the press of a button the room became illuminated with starlight. Stars, galaxies and planets hovered above our heads, in majestic hues of purple and blue. The scene was nothing short of magic. The universe on full display, three dimensionally projected all around us. 

At the sight of the stars above her, I saw Y/N’s face light up. Her face filled with amazement as she beheld the multitude of constellations shining before her eyes. Her smile beamed, its brightness competing with that of the brightest stars in the room. 

To me she was the brightest star in the room. 

She slowly spun in a circle in the attempt to fully take in her surroundings, her eyes reflecting the twinkling of the floating stars. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. 

She turned to me, her eyes glistening with moisture. “Bruce I-” 

“Do you like it?” I asked, her lack of words worrying me. Maybe this was too much?

Her silence, however, was replaced by her embrace. She took me in her arms as she gently wrapped them around my neck and pulled me close to her. 

“Thank you, Bruce. Thank you so much.” She whispered, her voice cracking at the end. 

I held her tighter in an attempt to pull her in even closer. Her embrace radiated pure love, a love I hadn't felt in a long long time. 

“Y-you’re welcome.” I answered, overwhelmed with adoration. 

As we pulled away I looked at her face illuminated by the glimmering starlight. I felt as though she was the only person that mattered, that she was the most precious thing this world had to offer. In that moment I would have gone to the ends of the universe if she pleased. I would have given her all the stars in the galaxy; and to this day, I still would.

[mooniefics]

— first impressions

pairing : zeke jaeger / fem reader / reiner braun

word count : 7.5k

tags : sorta fluff (i can’t help myself i love reiner), eventual smut, threesome (f/m/m), situational humiliation, one night stand, spitroasting, drunk + unsafe sex

warnings : nsfw, mild sexual coercion

summary : a chance meeting between you and reiner leaves you enjoying an evening with the warriors upon their much anticipated return from the war. but doing your new friends a favor leads to a night you'll never forget.

— originally posted 12 / 22 / 20 on ao3 —

"reiner! is that really you?!"

you stood quickly from your place at the booth, unable to stop yourself from scrambling up to the small group of soldiers, who were all looking down at you with a mixture of confusion and amusment.

"you didn't tell us you had a girlfriend back home, braun." the dark-haired woman to his right teased, earning a crossed frown from your friend.

"not my girlfriend." he muttered, ignoring their chuckles as he turned his attention back to you, "i haven't changed that much in a few months, have i?"

you sighed, a relieved grin breaking out across your face as he opened his arms to you, gratefully accepting his invitation and squeezing him tight, face pressing into his shoulder. the scent of gunpowder that usually clung to him in his uniform was absent on his civilian clothes, replaced instead with the pleasant smell of fresh linen. "a few months? felt more like a whole year to me."

you stayed cognizant of the people behind him, now exchanging curious glances at the sight of their comrade's affection, the woman who'd initially teased him whispering something to the stern looking man by her side that made his expression crack into a small grin. he pulled away from you after a moment, a soft smile warming his usually sullen features, which dampened at a hand being placed on his shoulder.

"would you care to introduce us, reiner?" a low voice asked, the speaker stepping to reiner's side to get a good look at you.

you instantly recognized the man, face flushing with embarrassment as you scrambled to find your words. "c-captain jaeger! i apologize for interrupting your evening, p-please forgive-"

"nonsense." he said, holding out his hand for you to shake, "and no need for the formalities, feel free to call me zeke."

you clasped your hands gratefully around his, shaking vibrantly much to his amusement. you exchanged names with the remaining three, the tired looking but jovial woman, pieck, insisting that you join them on their night out. seeing as you had already planned to be at the old bar for the rest of the night by yourself, you had no qualms with inviting them all to fill the remaining seats of the booth you'd been occupying before they entered.

"pock here isn't much of a talker," she said after everyone got themselves situated, poking the cheek of the man she'd been whispering to earlier, "he's a little shy, but don't hold it against him."

"i thought i told you not to call me that.." he grumbled in reply, smacking away her hand and earning a small round of laughter from everyone at the table. the freshest face among them, colt, flagged down the barmaiden that was milling about the tavern floor, ordering a beer for everyone at the table with a kind smile.

"this'll be the only one for me tonight." you told him across the table after the woman had sauntered away, "i kinda didn't budget to be drinking more than one beer tonight anyways.."

"don't worry about it." you turned at reiner's voice beside you, gaze flitting down to see him thumbing through the bills in his wallet, "i'll pay for you tonight. my treat."

"nice to see that you know how to treat a lady." zeke quipped with a grin from his place on your left, earning another unreadable frown from reiner, but you could see the flush creeping up on his cheeks as a result of the implication.

before he could dismiss his friend, the barmaiden had returned, toting six mugs filled to the brim with beer on her serving platter. everyone murmured their thanks as she passed them around the table, her eyes lingered on colt before she slipped away to attend to another awaiting party.

"look at you, colt! haven't even been here for thirty minutes and you've already got the ladies swooning." pieck drawled, taking a long sip from her mug with a smile on her lips as she watched the young man stammer out an excuse.

you couldn't help but laugh along at the display, taking a generous drink of your own as you watched the conversation pick up around you. pieck seemed to be more than comfortable with everyone at the table, fueling the majority of the discussion with her playful words. porco, as she'd said, didn't seem to be much of a talker, but nodded along to what the others said, contributing a brief input when he saw fit and staying silent for the rest of the time. colt wasn't naive, but he was easy to tease, the perfect target for little jabs here and there from around the table that drew irritated, flustered protests from him and made everyone laugh.

the dynamic that had intrigued you the most was that between zeke and reiner. they didn't speak directly to the other often, mostly relaying remarks through their responses to the others, but when they did, there seemed to be an odd sort of tension between them. not exactly rivals, but not exactly friends either. they were on the same team, but there was a clear disconnect between them despite that. you felt every slight shift that reiner made when zeke addressed him, debating on whether you should request to move from your place between them for your sake or stay as a buffer for reiner's.

everyone was on their third glass—the only exception being reiner, who was nearly through his fourth—definitely loosened up though not quite drunk yet, but before you could put much thought into how you'd go about doing that, porco spoke to you for the first time. "so, how do you even know reiner?"

"oh! i'd also like to know too!" pieck piped up between sips, downing the rest of her mug in one go and resting her chin in her hands. everyone's attention had turned to you in an instant, intently waiting for your response, making your posture stiffen as you twisted your hands in your lap.

"well, it was a few years ago, when the war with the mid-east had just started ramping up." you began, tensing up the slightest bit when you felt your hand brush reiner's under the table, "i was working at the produce shop down on kaiser lane, and one day reiner came by with his mother on one of her grocery visits, she had always spoken to me about him when i was counting up her total. i asked her if this was son she was always talking about, and she said yes and introduced us. reiner looked tired," pieck giggled at that. "so i tried to hurry it up a little for his sake, and then she paid and they both went on their way. later that day i came here, and i saw him sitting alone at the counter, so i decided to sit down next to him and see if he could put up with my insufferable small talk for a little while. we ended up talking all night, and we've been great friends since then."

"well, isn't that the sweetest thing," pieck smiled warmly at you from across the table, balancing her head on one hand so could pensively drum her fingers across the wood, "if i didn't know any better, i'd say you two made a lovely couple!"

"pieck, would you stop bothering reiner." porco chided, waving a hand at your friend, "just look at him, he looks like he's one more girlfriend comment away from popping a blood vessel."

reiner grumbled out a low 'fuck you', gulping down the rest of his beer and flagging down the barmaiden as the rest of the warriors shared a hearty laugh at his expense. you yourself were similarly blushing at their constant assertions of something more between the two of you. it's not as if you hadn't mulled the idea over in your head many times before on all the previous outings you'd been on together, and the few times the two of you had gotten drunk enough to fool around a bit before one of you came to your senses and excused yourself for the night.

there were some days where you were glad you kept a modest distance between yourselves, and there were others where you wanted to do nothing more than throw all caution to the window and just enjoy one irresponsible night of doing whatever came to mind, no doubts or worries or responsibilities to get in the way, politics and the war be damned. you started to shake away those unnecessary thoughts, but zeke did a much better job of distracting you when his arm fell around your shoulders, giving you a friendly squeeze as he spoke.

"i see that even in good company, my colleagues' manners still aren't up to par," he said, directing his words at you but talking loud enough for anyone to hear, "allow me to apologize on their behalf."

"oh hush, zeke, you're the worst out of all of us!" pieck argued through her laughter, playfully kicking his shin under the table, "you're only playing nice because she's here."

her words didn't draw his attention away from your face, gleaming grey eyes intently drinking in the emotions passing over your flushed features. you laughed nervously, turning away to face the rest of the table, sneaking a glance at reiner as the barmaiden swept by to clean up the empty glasses and replace them with filled mugs. he had an irritated frown drawn across his lips, worry lines creasing his face as he gulped down half of his mug in seconds.

"look's like you're finally not the one overdoing it, huh colt?" you heard pieck whisper into the young man's ear, snickering at him when he turned away from her and huffed.

just glancing around at them all made you forget that everyone of them were living on borrowed time, that in less than a month they would most likely be shipped out on their next assignment to defend marley against any one of the neighboring nations that were just waiting to pounce at the slightest slip up. aside from reiner, they all seemed to be forgetting that fact as well in favor of just enjoying this night while it was still young.

another banter-filled hour passed, your table not noticing how the bar had been steadily emptying as closing time drew near. zeke had kept his grasp around you for the entire time, much to reiner's dismay, which was evident on his face each time you tried to coax him back into the conversation, always faltering each time zeke peered over you to repeat your question to him with a thinly veiled haughtiness. reiner had gone through more beer than anyone at the table, his flushed face and low-lidded gaze along with his slurring words letting you know just how drunk he'd really become. but aside from his borderline unpleasant exchanges with your friend, zeke was incredibly charismatic, almost overbearingly so, your own intoxication making it easy for you give in to his infectious energy and laugh along with him and everyone else at the table.

sure, you were worried about reiner, but he knew that you would always be friends at the end of the day, and you had to make a good impression on these newly introduced people who were so kind as to invite you in on one of their rare leisurely getaways from the military barracks. so you let yourself lean into zeke's side, relishing in the warmth that you'd been craving for so long—a warmth that the alcohol only made you want more and more—the break in your routine that you'd been searching for in an evening alone turning into a night that you were sure you wouldn't forget for a long time. they didn't even seem to care that you weren't an honorary marleyan, or even that you were a lowly blue-collar worker that made a measly sum at her meaningless job on a forgettable street corner.

but alas, the blissfully ignorant fun of the table's atmosphere was dampened by the arrival of the barmaiden with your table's tab, setting it down in front of colt with a coy smile as she gathered up the rest of your empty glasses and disappeared into the back of the tavern.

"aw colt, you never made your move!" pieck chided, giggling as she dug into the pocket of her skirt to reach for her wallet just as everyone else around the table was doing.

"reiner.. are you okay?" you gently nudged his arm, looking over with concern at the sight of him. his elbow was propped on the table, forehead resting in the heel of his palm as he stared down at his lap, mouth drawn into a slight frown.

"shit, he's loaded." porco commented snarkily.

"we can't let magath see him like this!" colt said nervously, looking around at his colleagues, waiting for one of them to come up with a plan to deal with this new issue.

you glanced from colt to reiner, then up at zeke, turning back to everyone as you made an offer. "well.. i have a guest room at my house, he could stay there for the night if it makes things any easier for you all."

"oh, you're an angel!" pieck sighed, reaching across the table and clasping your hands in hers, "and if the commander asks, i could say that he decided to stay with his family!!"

"sharp as always, pieck." zeke chimed from beside you, "though, i don't think it'd be fair to make her watch him all by herself, so i think it'd be best if i help her out with him for the evening, just to be sure he doesn't cause her any trouble."

he met eyes with pieck, and for a moment you thought you saw the briefest flash of realization cross her features, the slightest smirk perking up at her lips before her face relaxed back into its natural smile and she nodded at him. "great idea." she said, tugging at porco and colt's sleeves, "i'll deal with these two, and i'll tell the commander that you had a change of heart as well. reiner, hand me your wallet if you can't count the bills."

"i've got it." he grunted, fumbling with his wallet for a few moments before slamming a fistful of bills down in front of her.

"thank you very much!" she sang happily, getting all the money in order and putting her own small tip for the barmaiden before she slapped colt's arm a few times, prompting him to start scooting out of the booth.

zeke finally retracted his arm to begin leaving the booth, standing out on the floor and offering his hand out to you. you flushed, taking it and allowing him to help you to your feet. everyone got themselves situated, stepping out of the bar and saying their goodbyes, pieck, colt, and porco turning to make their way back to the barracks, zeke slinging reiner's arm over his shoulder and following you along as you gave directions on how to get to your home.

there wasn't many words exchanged between the three of you on your short walk, only having some small talk with zeke between the bouts of comfortable silence hanging around you in the warm night air. you arrived home within minutes, wrestling the key into the old lock and holding open the door for zeke to help reiner in.

"i can walk myself, jaeger." he muttered while kicking his shoes off, earning a low chuckle from the older man.

"then why aren't you doing it right now?"

he didn't get a response as you directed them to your bedroom, hoping to settle him down as soon as you could in the hopes of him being able to get enough rest to sleep off the worst parts of his hangover. while zeke assisted him, you scampered over to the guest bedroom to get it ready for your other, less intoxicated guest. but as you opened the door to the bedroom, you were mortified at the sight of your mess upon looking into the room. in the moment of wanting to do something nice for your friends, you'd completely forget about how you'd basically turned your spare room into more of a storage closet.

looking around to try and think about where to get started, hopefully make it look like you didn't completely neglect this room for the past few months before zeke finished putting his friend to bed, you felt a hand on your shoulder, stiffening in surprise as you slowly turned to look at him.

"i-i'm really sorry, i totally wasn't expecting guests tonight, and i promise i've been meaning to move everything to the basement-"

"don't worry about it, really." he stopped you before you could continue to profusely apologize, offering you another one of those warm smiles that made your knees feel weak, "let me help you, it's the least i could do after you opened your home to a couple of irresponsible soldiers." to your surprise, he brushed past you, picking up one of the many boxes that had accumulated on the bed and floor over the months. "you said you had a basement, right? would you mind showing me where it is exactly?"

unable to find your words, you pointed halfheartedly to the door at the end of the hall, watching him carry one of the few boxes that had left you panting by the time you'd transported them across the house with ease, not even having to set it down to open the door and begin descending the steps. his quick return up the steps finally spurred you into action, hauling another box into your arms and repeating his path of depositing it down in your basement and returning to your room to grab another, making sure to take it slow on your way down the steps from how heavy the alcohol made your limbs feel.

within a few minutes, you both had everything squared away. you let yourself take a seat on the now empty bed, breathing out a sigh of relief and wiping the sweat that had begun to bead around your forehead with the back of your hand, watching as he settled down next to you. "sheesh, you made all that heavy lifting look so easy! and thank you again, for doing such a generous favor for me."

"there's no need to thank me." he replied earnestly, a hand settling on your thigh, making you suppress a small flinch, "you have a lovely home, do you really live all on your own?"

you tried to laugh off the warmth of his hand on your skin through your long skirt. "y-yeah, it's just been me for a while. sometimes friends come over for the night, but for the most part, it's just me."

zeke hummed pensively, grey eyes shining with something dangerous as he gazed down at you. "makes sense that someone such as yourself hasn't found anybody qualified enough to settle down with," he grinned at your flustered expression, openly appreciating the way your eyes widened and you breathed out a soft, indecisive 'thank you', "though, i was so sure that you and reiner had something between you.."

"n-no! it's not like that." the words spilled out of your mouth before you could even think about them, the desire to answer him overriding any clear thought that might cut through your intoxicated embarrassment, "i'm sure s-soldiers such as him and yourself don't really have time to play around with people l-like me."

you mentally slapped yourself for coming to such a conclusion, let alone allowing it to actually exit your brain and be heard by the most esteemed guest you'd probably ever have the honor of hosting.

"oh?" he peered curiously at you, thumb rubbing a slow stroke over your leg, face seeming much closer than it was a few blinks ago, "and what exactly is that supposed to mean?" you knew just how intentional his word choice was, practically setting up a verbal trap for you to fall into, but how could you not take the bait when it was marley's strongest warrior dangling it before you?

"i-i-i'm sorry, s-sir— zeke!"

you scrambled to correct yourself, looking any place except his face and wanting to do nothing more than hide away somewhere where neither him nor reiner could find you to sober yourself up before you could humiliate yourself any further. but you felt the desperation that was now gripping your pounding heart start to squeeze like a vice around it when a rough hand found your chin, gently turning your head to face him again.

"again with the apologies.. what am i going to do with you?"

your bottom lip quivered, more frantic sorries threatening to spill out, but stopped by the lack of air that you were able to take in from his proximity. you hadn't even realized you were holding your breath until you felt a tight ache seize your chest, exhaling an alarmed breath as you stared up into the glinting grey irises studying your face, mirroring their actions at the tavern but containing all of the hunger he'd been hiding in front of his comrades. the hand of your thigh slid up your leg just an inch, zeke breathing out a chuckle at the feeling of you tensing under his touch.

"if you must know," his face was so close that you could even see the pale freckles dotting across his sharp cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, the shadowed contour of his face looking even deeper in the dim light of the guest room, parted lips exhaling a warm breath that fanned across your face, the scent of alcohol still evident as he slowly spoke, "a soldier such as myself can make plenty of time to play around with someone like you."

you couldn't barely contain your awe, drawing in another shaky, shallow breath at the feeling of his lips brushing across your own, just daring you to indulge in his offer. you could barely form a cohesive thought before your brain forced a new topic into your conscious, confusion and shock and abrupt desire drowning out all the rationality that you were so desperately grasping for in this moment.

you'd just met this man tonight, it didn't matter that you'd known of his grand legacy even from when you were a young girl or felt like you'd gotten to know him quite a bit in that short amount of time, you'd only shaken his hand and drank with him and sat face-to-face with him for the first time just a few hours ago. not to mention how the person you were truly familiar with, the one who wasn't nearly a decade your senior, the one you had really been yearning for was just down the hall in your bed, only two shut doors and a few thin walls away from this spectacle. but, zeke was right in front of you, and he was offering out an opportunity that was impossible to refuse—an offer that you really, really didn't want to refuse.

so you didn't. you gave in to the sinful temptation of his warmth, his skin, his soft touches with calloused, work-roughened hands, the knowledge that this kiss was only just the beginning of something unforgettable.

in contrast to his hands, his lips were soft, ridiculously soft as they pressed over yours, the fingers at your chin unfurling to cup the length of your jaw. you leaned into his touch, earning a pleased grunt from him when your trembling hand found his hair, slowly carding through it as you focused on maintaining the easy rhythm of his kiss. you stifled a small sound when the hand on your leg smoothed up to your inner thigh, not pressing any further, just gently stroking and giving the occasional squeeze to the pliant flesh through your skirt.

you could feel the light flutter in your chest heavy and knot into something familiar, twisting deep in your stomach as he sucked at your bottom lip, nipping at it before his attention wandered across your cheek, the hand at your jaw tilting your head up to expose more of your neck to his eager mouth. faint kisses gave way to teasing bites and licks, drawing a soft whimper as he sucked with the intent to bruise where your shoulder met your neck. he seemed to appreciate the way your grasp in his hair tightened, the hand on your thigh traveling across your waist to find the knotted string holding up your skirt.

the progression of his actions felt natural, but almost too fast at the same time, your hand giving an apprehensive tug to his hair when you felt the waistline of your skirt go slack with the undoing of its lacing. he groaned lowly at the sensation, spurring you to do it again when his teeth grazed over the forming redness just right. you could feel the haze of arousal fogged your mind already, all rationale dissipating under the influence of the alcohol and the hands that were now roaming your body, searching for a moment for the top button of your shirt before they began to messily undo those as well. each brush of his fingers across your bare skin sent goosebumps across the expanse of your chest, making quick work of your blouse as he pushed it over your shoulders, guiding your arms out of the sleeves before tossing it aside in favor of working on the clasp of your bra, never pulling away from his place at your neck for more than a moment before returning the bruising attention of his mouth back over the flushed skin.

you breathed out a weak whimper at the feeling of his thumb and forefinger taking one of your nipples between them, bra forgotten somewhere on the floor with your shirt, baring the entirety of your naked torso to him. he could feel how you squirmed when another hand smoothed down your stomach, slipping beneath your skirt's waistline and settling just between your legs, only a sheer barrier provided by your thin underwear, the arousal threatening to soak through the fabric leaving it clinging to every fold. he hummed appreciatively at the welcome surprise, drawing more stifled sounds out of you when his fingers slowly stroked over your clothed cunt.

"all this just for me?" he murmured lowly in your ear, thumb pressing down on your clit, rubbing slow circles over the sensitive nub.

his touch was electrifying, almost overwhelmingly good as you arched into it, the hand at your breast now groping at the supple flesh, palm offering a much-needed friction over your nipple. you finally registered his teasing question, barely managing a disoriented 'mhm' and a small nod, unable to think of anything else besides your heartbeat pounding loud enough that you though he might be able to hear, and the fingers prodded at you and teasing your body as they pleased.

your half-lidded gaze drifted to the door, blinking away the fogginess when you realized it wasn't actually properly shut. you opened your mouth to try and murmur out your observation, but the words in your head spilled out as an incoherent moan, feeling his mouth detach from your bruised neck before he urged you down onto the mattress. but the sight of him standing above you, tugging off his shirt and revealing the impressively toned physique of his stomach and chest, made you forget the ajar door behind him entirely. your hands moved without a second thought, pushing your skirt and underwear down your legs as far as you could, kicking them the rest of the way off as he began to unbuckle his belt.

you couldn't help the way your eyes widened when he shoved down his pants and underwear in one go, unable to choose between focusing your gaze on the smug smirk drawing across his lips or his achingly hard cock, already looking like more than you could handle even at a distance. he plucked his glasses off his face, setting them on the bedside table before he moved over you in bed, your hands tugging him down into a kiss and earning a low chuckle against your lips.

"eager little thing, aren't you?" he only pulled away for a moment to speak, knuckles dragging down the swell of your breast and curving down your waist. your legs spread in anticipation, back arching off the bed when his fingers finally trailed down between your thighs to smooth a finger down your pussy. "and so, so wet."

you squeaked at the intrusion of two thick fingers pumping into you, sliding in easily with a soft, wet sound. the rhythm of your lips faltered, whimpering as his tongue slid between your teeth, tangling with yours, mouth greedily swallowing every desperate sound you made for him. you were grateful for how he was muffling you, just barely remembering that there was another presence in your house besides you and zeke that you had to worry about, heat sparking up your spine at the feeling of his fingers curling just right inside you.

the thought of reiner finding you in here with the captain of his squad, so pathetically obedient and practically dripping from just his fingers, was horrifying and unnervingly thrilling all at once. would he be angry with you? why would he be? what did he even consider you as?

you couldn't dwell on that thought for too long, hips bucking and toes curling when his thumb rubbed firm circles over your clit, wordlessly begging for more. he seemed to be just as impatient as you were in the face of your desperation, pulling away from your lips and removing his touch from between your legs, rolling himself onto his back and tugging you on top of him in one swift motion. you flush even deeper as you watched him drink in the sight of your naked figure, large hands finding your hips, pupils blown wide enough to nearly swallow up the silvery grey of his irises as he eased you down so his cock was just at your aching cunt, offering a sliver of mercy by allowing you to seat yourself onto him as fast or slow as you'd like.

just the first few inches had you whimpering, hands settling on his chest to steady yourself, teeth worrying the skin of your bottom lip, trying to contain the borderline humiliating sounds that were making him grin so smugly up at you. you could feel tears pricking your eyes by the time you finally sank all the way down, deep, shaky breaths giving away your lack of composure even more so than the way the thighs on either side of him tremble, or the nails now digging into the toned muscles of his shoulders. he gave you just a moment of respite, letting you get used to the feeling of something so big before his grip on your hips fastened, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he began to guide you up and down on his cock.

the low groan your motion earned from him was enough to make your already pounding heart race even faster, heat echoing through you in a way that made it impossible to silence the heated whines that were spilling out of you. the bed squeaked in protest beneath you, but you could care less as you quickened the pace he'd started you at all on your own, admiring the flush that had darkened over his handsome features and the parted lips breathing out low curses and appraising groans.

his eyes fell shut, head falling back before he forced it back up, gaze wandering across your face, then your body, then flitting elsewhere for the briefest moment before they returned to you, hips now thrusting up with even more vigor to meet your own. you moaned openly, struggling out a meaningless string of pleas, the ache beginning to burn in your legs drowned out when he reached out to rub tight, fast circles around your clit. he was grinning now, licking his lips before he spoke in a knowing slur, "you're gonna cum soon, aren't you?"

"yes, f-fuck yes..!" it took you a moment to find your words, embarrassed by how fast he'd managed to work you up to this point but unable to be dishonest in your current position.

his motions didn't falter in the slightest, only seeming to grow more and more urgent as you quivered and whined, bouncing yourself up and down on his cock like it was the last time you'll ever get the chance to do it. and while that's likely the case, you don't care to think about it, too wrapped up in the way you could feel that pressure that had been welling in your stomach finally reach a breaking point, stammered curses devolving into breathless cries as you came hard around him.

you could feel the movement of his hips slow significantly, still rocking up into you to let you ride out your high but not nearly enough for him to push himself over the edge along with you. but you're grateful for his mercy, knowing that if he'd continued at the pace he was going you probably wouldn't be able to walk the next morning. so you took it as a testament to his goodwill, falling forward onto his chest in a whimpering heap, trying to steady your breathing and calm your heart rate, remaining seated on his still hard cock.

you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, the other resting across your shoulder so he could settle his hand on the back of your head, fingers working their way into your hair and gently carding through it. the attention was comforting, unexpected but definitely comforting as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, still too hazy off of your post-orgasm bliss to have any shame about wanting to be close to his warmth. you didn't think about whether he was expecting you to get him off at some point, or if he was just content letting you rest on top of him like this, but you soon found that he had a much different answer—or rather, a question—that didn't at all take you into consideration.

"so, reiner, are you just going to stand there and watch all night?"

there was confusion for a brief moment, then a horrifying realization that made an ice-cold fear prick under your spine, blood draining from your face as you felt the fine hairs on the back of your neck raise, completely frozen at the knowledge that the worst of the night you had imagined had come true. zeke's hand didn't stop its slow petting across your head, arm fastening around your body, seemingly in preparation for you to start squirming or fighting to get away. but you couldn't move an inch, not even enough to turn your head and risk a glance at your friend who was apparently right at the door.

"well?" his voice rumbled low in his chest once more, dripping with arrogance, entirely absent of any shame, just tempting him to step past the unseen boundary that had kept him there for however long he'd been watching, "i know, i know, you haven't your fair share all night. it's just so, sohard to let go once you finally get your hands on her. you should know all about that feeling, right?"

"fuck you."

you felt a warm curl in your stomach at the sound of his voice, breathing short and fast as your heart skipped anxiously, but mentally almost enjoying the fact that he was feeling something for you, even if it was some sort of possessive envy. the sound of his heavy, uneven footsteps making their way towards the bed.

he clearly still sounded drunk—who wouldn't be after so many beers in one sitting—and that was probably why he didn't hesitate at all to start tugging his clothes off, the ruffle of fabric and clinking metal of a belt being unbuckled finally snapping out of your compliant state, shaky arms trying to push yourself in bed. zeke allowed you to sit up, hands dropping to your thighs as your foggy gaze wandered from his face over to reiner at the bedside, heartbeat nearly drowning out the other sounds in the room as it drummed loudly in your ears.

"you don't mind, do you?" zeke called your attention back to him, gently stroking up and down your thigh just as he had been when you'd first accepted his offer.

your mouth had gone dry, leaving you struggling to get enough saliva back for your tongue not to stick to the roof of your mouth, feeling the heat of arousal flickering back to life when his cock twitched inside of you. did you mind? well you definitely minded the humiliation, the anxiety taut within your chest that made each breath an effort, the fact that you had no idea what was going on or would happen next. but did you mind enough to force yourself off of him, to struggle to collect your clothes from the ground and stagger out of the room with shaky legs that you weren't sure were capable of doing even that right now? did you really want this?

but it seemed that the choice had already been made in both of their minds, your answer—or lack thereof— speaking for your choice in the matter as zeke's hands lifted you up off of his lap, enough for him to slip out from under you. the sudden emptiness after being so full made you whimper, falling back down onto your calves in the middle of the bed and staring down at zeke's cock, slick with your arousal and still aching to be tended to.

the sinking weight of reiner clambering onto the bed behind you made you exhale a shaky breath, still in disbelief as his hand settled on your cheek, turning your head to face over his shoulder to press his lips onto yours. his kiss was messy but familiar, his low moan making you shiver alongside the feeling of zeke's stare wandering across the display before him. your exchange didn't last long before he pulled away, gazing at you with an unreadable look in his golden eyes for a moment, hand moving to the back of your head to push you down onto your hands and knees.

you obediently complied, met with the sight of zeke's cock once more, peering up to meet his gaze, features showing a mixture of eager expectancy and relaxed pride, just knowing that you were willing to do whatever he asked of you. and he relished in the changes your expressions went through in the next few seconds, the way your eyes widened when reiner's hands grasped your soft hips, how you swallowed thickly to try and get enough saliva down your tongue to get your mouth ready, and finally your mouth falling open and face twisting when reiner eased himself entirely into you in one solid thrust, finding little resistance from how soaked you were. you whimpered out a shaky curse, fists bunching up the sheets under you as he picked up a steady rhythm from behind you, zeke's fingers tangling into your hair and guiding onto your parted lips onto his awaiting cock.

he groaned out at the wet heat of your mouth engulfing him, tongue laving up over the underside of his length as you did your best to take as much of him in as possible without gagging. you wanted to be ashamed of how much you were enjoying the feeling of being entirely overwhelming, fuller than you'd ever felt in your entire life, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said that you'd made a mistake by giving in to the lustful temptations. you could feel your eyes water as zeke hit the back of your throat, your teary gaze and muffled moans against him only seeming to enthrall him further. reiner's hands felt up your waist, one reaching down your front to pinch and roll a nipple between his fingers, driving more stifled sounds and shaky breaths through your nose out of you.

you felt yourself squeezing around his cock, earning yourself a few low, muttered curses as he began to pound even faster into you, evidently approaching his limit just as fast as you are. the hand in your hair was guiding you up and down on the cock in your mouth, the tip of your nose just brushing zeke's stomach each time you surged forward with the momentum of the thrusts from behind you. it was all far too much in the best way possible, vision going hazy at the edges from the lack of proper air you could get into your lungs, insides aching from overusing alongside the tight knotting deep in your gut that was threatening to send you over the edge.

it was zeke that came first, heat pooling over your tongue and spilling down your throat, nearly too much for you to swallow as you tried not to choke. but he kept himself in your mouth and his hand firmly grasping your hair, if not to feel the hum of your desperate whines across your skin then to admire your pathetic expression, half-lidded eyes barely able to hold themselves open enough to stare back at him as you came hard for the second time that night. you could hear reiner give a generous groan of your name, thrusting as deep as he could go just a few times more, having enough sense to not cum inside you, pulling out and making a sticky mess of your trembling thighs.

only after you'd blinked away the glossiness in your eyes did zeke pull himself out of your mouth with a wet pop, holding your head up to appreciate the way your mouth still hung open to gasp in much needed gulps of air, tears and saliva dripping down your chin, halfhearted whimpers still escaping you as you trembled.

"you have good taste, reiner." zeke said, releasing your hair and letting you rest your cheek down against the mattress under you, grabbing his glasses off the side table and putting them back onto his face.

you watched as he stepped off the bed, picking out his clothes from the messy array of garments strewn about on the floor and tugging them on. he fished a handkerchief out of the the pocket of his pants, tossing it at reiner's side and glancing over your body, offering you a lazy smile when he caught your gaze.

"clean her up," he instructed, reaching out to give one last soft touch down your back, "and don't give her anymore trouble, alright? i expect to see you bright and early tomorrow."

you assumed that reiner nodded, since zeke turned without another word and exited the bedroom, making sure to shut the door behind him. for a moment, there was uneasy silence, only occupied by your breaths and the faint sound of zeke pulling on his boots somewhere in the living room and leaving out the front door. you gave a low hiss at the feeling of the fabric smoothing down the backs of your thighs, skin far too sensitive for your liking and legs aching uncomfortably.

you lifted your head up enough to wipe your chin with the back of your hand, eyes and limbs heavy with the desire to sleep. there were no words exchanged as he helped you move to lay down on your back, his face just as tired as he'd looked at the bar, but there was something else weighing down his expression as you took his face in your hands, staring up at him with a soft look of concern.

and though he still said nothing, he kissed you, so much gentler than he'd ever kissed you, with a tenderness that made you want savor this brief moment for as long as you could. but he eventually pulled away, and the brief worry that he might leave just as his captain had minutes before, but he rested down beside you with a low sigh. he didn't protest when you curled into the warmth of his body, head finding a comfortable place on his chest, not even bothering to try and venture out onto the floor to turn off the lamp before you settled down and let your eyes fall shut.

it was easy to fall asleep after he wrapped his arms around you, firm chest rising and falling with steady breaths, heart slow in your ear. you didn't think about the fact that you'd probably wake up alone in the morning, or that walking properly would be a monumental task on its own without even considering going to work to stay on your feet for the entire day—just appreciated this night while he couldn't slip away from you like all the other times before.

[archived-kin]

you are hopelessly in love with one (1) librarian

note from kin: i’m (kinda) back baby!!!!!

i thought i’d start with something for myself to get back into the ~groove~ so i chose lisa since i love her so much

in this one you’re venti’s accompanist bard buddy and play the flute! whether or not you’re a vision-holder isn’t mentioned but i like to imagine that venti gives you an anemo vision after the two of you bond as fellow musicians (though of course you don’t know it’s him who gave you it, you basically just woke up one night after a performance and found it in your pocket)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, lisa, kaeya, venti, razor

pairing(s): lisa/reader (+ some wholesome best friend venti content)

warning(s): none!

genre: fluff

“She’s so pretty,” You groan into the table. “I’m going to die.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” Kaeya replies through a mouthful of hash brown. “Your bard friends would be rather sad without their favourite Buoyant Balladeer.”

“What difference is it going to make?” You raise your head and stare at him with soulless eyes. “My life has no meaning anyway.”

“Oh, now you’re just being dramatic.” Kaeya slaps your shoulder so hard that you swear you feel your bones dislocate. “Cheer up.”

You groan, but sit up and take the hash brown he offers you anyway. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” He responds, already shoving another one into his mouth and beginning to chew.

You let out a heavy sigh and begin to nibble miserably on your own hash brown. “Sorry about all this. I probably sound like an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” He reaches over and gives your hair a playful ruffle. “And you don’t sound like an idiot. Lisa’s a very beautiful lady, after all.”

You raise your head in a snap, glaring at your friend through narrow eyes. “Hey, watch it.”

“I’m uninterested, not blind. Calm down.” He flicks you in the head with a chuckle. Raising his eyes to the sky, he gives a content sigh, as if the sun that he appears to be staring directly into isn’t burning his eye. “You know, a sky like this really calls for a nice glass of dandelion wine…”

“You have beyond enough problems to deal with right now without becoming a day drinker as well,” You shoot back. “Don’t you still have a report to file about those Treasure Hoarders over in Windrise?”

“Oh, that’s taken care of,” He says dismissively, taking a sip from his cup of water. “All dealt with.”

“Careful, Mr Kaeya,” comes a familiar honey-sweet voice from somewhere behind you, and you immediately tense. “Lying is a sin.”

“Miss Lisa!” laughs your blue-haired companion as the librarian pulls up a seat at your table, leaning forward and resting her chin on a single gloved hand. It’s an innocent motion by all means, but it still makes your heart skip a beat. “So kind of you to join us. What brings you here?”

“I simply saw two familiar faces while out on a stroll,” She smiles, stealing Kaeya’s mug and taking a sip of his Wolfhook juice. “How have we all been doing?”

“I-I’m doing great,” You quickly reply as her eyes land on you, unable to form a more intelligent response under her clear green-eyed gaze.

Much better now that you’re here, you add silently as she turns her attention to Kaeya, sliding his mug back over to him with such ease that you get the impression she does this a lot.

Kaeya himself either hasn’t noticed Lisa stealing his drink or doesn’t care, since he promptly curls his fingers back around the tankard and takes a long drink without any indication that he’s noticed anything out of the norm.

“Craving some wine, but I suppose I’m fine,” He sighs, tilting his head slightly to the side and swirling the contents of his mug around. “[Name] here says I shouldn’t be drinking during daylight.”

“And [Name] is very right,” Lisa shakes her head, the little rose accessory on the end of her hat tinkling with the motion. You can’t help but silently compare the sound to the ringing of heaven’s bells. Curse your stupidly romantic heart. “You drink more than enough in the evenings.”

“Then what of you?” Kaeya counters, smirking playfully. “I know for a fact that you can drink most of Angel’s Share’s patrons under the table within a single night.”

“Perhaps so, but I spend far less nights in front of the bar than you do.”

You stare determinedly down into the bottom of your water tankard as Lisa and Kaeya continue their little back-and-forth, feeling an odd sensation tugging at the pit of your stomach. What is this? Anger? Jealousy?

Tapping your fingers agitatedly on the tabletop, you kick yourself firmly in the shin. You’re being ridiculous. Kaeya knows just how head-over-heels you are for the Witch of Purple Rose, and even if he is a sneaky little snake who swaps around the chess pieces when he thinks you’re not looking, you know that he’d never do something like… that to you. Besides, you know full well that, even if they’re close friends, they don’t harbour any romantic feelings for each other.

As the songs say, though, jealousy is a green-eyed demon that will listen to irrationality over reason any day, and so you can’t help but glare subtle holes into the side of Kaeya’s head as he continues to converse with the object of your affections as if you’re not even there.

“... I jest, I jest,” He laughs, waving his hand about as Lisa giggles into her glove. “Anyway, as I was saying to our friend here earlier - the weather’s been beautiful recently, hasn’t it?”

You raise your eyebrows at him, a signal that Kaeya clearly sees and pointedly ignores. The both of you know that the weather was far from what you had been conversing about earlier, but you’re glad that Kaeya isn’t giving you away, at the very least.

“Quite,” Lisa agrees, tossing a lock of hair out of her face in a way that knocks all the breath out of your lungs. “Pleasant weather for a stroll around Starsnatch Cliff, wouldn’t you say, [Name]?”

You jolt in your seat and heat up so abruptly that you wouldn’t be surprised if you started smoking. Kaeya sniggers not-so-subtly into his hand as you hurriedly stutter, “U-uh, yeah, totally!”

“Is that an invitation?” Kaeya raises an eyebrow with a coy smirk, and you’ve never wanted to punch him more than you do at this moment. “I’m sure [Name] would be glad to accompany you.”

“Ah, I couldn't impose myself like that,” Lisa shakes her head, and you want to cry because if only you weren’t such a coward you could tell her that she’d never be imposing on you. “Razor could do with some new scenery for his training. I might as well show him the sights.”

“How is training with your protégé going, then?” Kaeya asks. “He seems to have become quite the loyal little wolf since you first took him under your wing.”

“Oh, he’s an absolute darling,” Lisa says breezily. “He still isn’t very verbal, unfortunately, but he’s learning to communicate like a star. And he’s becoming a dab hand at using his Vision more effectively, too.”

“Sounds like you’re a wonderful teacher, then,” Kaeya compliments, then gives you a side-eyed look. “Wouldn’t you agree, [Name]?”

You nod vigorously. “Absolutely!”

“You flatter me,” Lisa sighs, “But a good teacher is nothing without a bright and willing student.”

Kaeya gives you a subtle dig in the side, and you hurriedly go to reply. “H-hey, give yourself some credit. Razor never would have been able to open up so much without you.”

“You’re too kind, darling.” She gives you a brilliant smile, and you very nearly pass out on the spot, but Kaeya helpfully keeps you conscious by stomping hard on your left foot like the little shit he is. You’ll have to get him back for that later - when your heart rate isn’t so rapid that it feels like you might just ascend to Celestia any minute now.

Lisa doesn’t stay for long after that, conversing with Kaeya for another five minutes or so while you stew in your own flustered chagrin and silently continue to freak out over just how… perfect she is. It’s honestly ridiculous. How is she even human? How are you worthy of even being in her presence?

“Well,” Kaeya says as Lisa disappears back down the street, presumably to return to her place in the office. “That went well.”

You glare at him. “You think?”

“You spoke to her, didn’t you?” He counters, grinning cheekily. “That’s a start.”

You open your mouth to give him a grumpy response, then give up and slump forward on the table again. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” He hums, draining the last of his Wolfhook juice and setting the mug down with a sharp thunk. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be preparing for your performance tonight? You should probably go find your partner.”

“Our friend Kaeya is very right,” calls an all-too-familiar figure from atop a nearby roof. “You’re late.”

If it had been any other occasion, you might have jumped, but right now you’re too emotionally exhausted to do anything but let out a long, tired sigh. Ignoring Kaeya’s evil little cackle, you look up and turn to see Venti grinning down at you. “Bard.”

“Accompanist,” He imitates your monotone address, hopping down from the roof and landing softly on the pavement without so much as a click of his shoes. Flicking out his cape, he sets his hands on his hips and offers you his usual cheeky grin. “What’s got you so gloomy?”

“Nothing,” You reply, standing up and dusting off the front of your clothes. “Let’s go.”

Venti doesn’t move. He raises a single, suspiciously perfectly-shaped eyebrow, cocking his head to the side, then looks to Kaeya, who not-so-subtly mouths something at him. You pretend not to notice his obvious hand gestures in the corner of your eye.

“Ah,” Venti says suddenly, his expression taking on a mock-wise air. “Love troubles once again, I presume. Is our dear [Name] still ailed by a paralysing infatuation with one Miss Lisa?”

Kaeya claps enthusiastically, as if he isn’t the one who basically just told Venti the whole story through poorly-done charades. “Correct! I keep telling them to make a move, you know, but they’re too much of a coward.”

You aim a kick at his shin under the table that he dodges easily. “I’m not a coward! I’m just… gauging the territory.”

“You’ve been ‘gauging the territory’ for months now,” Venti whines, holding his fists in front of his chest and giving you the widest-eye look he can muster. “Come on! The eagle that never dives will never catch its prey, after all!”

“Lisa isn’t prey,” You counter. “And I’m not an eagle.”

“Hopeless is what you are,” comments Kaeya, leaning back in his chair and toying absently with a lock of his hair. “Hmmm, why don’t you write her a song? That’s your strong suit, isn’t it?”

“A song?!” You practically combust right there and then - if you’d been a Pyro Vision holder, you have no doubt that you’d have erupted into a column of flame on the spot. “No way!”

“I think that’s a splendid idea!” Venti exclaims, hopping up and down excitedly on the spot, hat threatening to fly off his head all the while. “You write the lyrics and melody, we compose the instrumental part together, and I’ll sing it for you! We’ll be an absolutely unresistable duo!”

“Easy there,” Kaeya teases, holding up a hand. “Our friend here is the one trying to win Lisa’s affections, after all.”

“Then I’ll be sure to try to direct as much of the spotlight to them as possible,” Venti replies, completely unaffected by Kaeya’s attempt to fluster him. You wish you had his coolheadedness sometimes. “C’mon, [Name], what do you say?”

“I said no!” You holler as he jumps energetically up at you like an over-excited puppy. “No way! There’s no way I’m going to just— broadcast my feelings like that!”

“You won’t be,” Kaeya explains, infuriatingly calm in the face of your explosive embarrassment. “Write the song so that only Lisa would be able to understand the true feelings behind it. It shouldn’t be difficult - you’re the master lyricist, after all.”

“Plus you have me to help as well,” Venti chimes in, holding up a single, proud finger. “The Windborne Bard himself - with me by your side, you can’t possibly fail!”

“Look—” You sink back into your seat and hunch forward, burying your face into your hands. A moment later, you raise your head again to see Venti giving you a concerned look. “I appreciate it, I really do, but… I can’t.”

“Of course you can,” Kaeya says unhelpfully, giving you a hearty slap on the back that is also unhelpful in every way. “You’ve performed all over Teyvat - this would be a small feat in comparison.”

“You aren’t helping, Master Kaeya,” Venti says, not-so-subtly elbowing Kaeya in the side. “We need to be cautious here. Like coaxing a young hatchling to fly the nest… we must take baby steps.”

“No baby steps!” You protest, leaning away as he takes a threatening step closer. “No steps at all!”

“Surely writing a subtle confessional song would be much easier than playing an intricate ballad in front of some of the most influential figures of Liyue?” Kaeya doesn’t show any signs of relenting. “Archons above, [Name], it seems that you’ve channelled all of your courage to entirely the wrong places.”

You drop your head into your hands again and glare at him through the cracks between your fingers. “Kaeya, I’d die for you any day, but for the love of the Archons, please shut up.”

He shrugs and obligingly places his finger over his lips, but you can clearly see him hiding a laugh behind it.

Venti hums, leaning over and giving your shoulder a comforting rub as you sigh miserably into your hands. “Hey, relax. I’m not going to drag you out on stage and force you to confess in song, much as I’m tempted to. If you don’t want to do it, we don’t have to.”

You ignore that middle part and choose to focus on Venti’s earnest attempt at consolation. “...thanks.”

“No need to thank me!” He winks playfully and gives your knees a firm pat. “Now come on! Confession or not, we still have a performance to practise for!”

You sigh and smile. “...sure.”

Leaving Kaeya to pay the lunch bill in retaliation for his teasing, you and Venti head off to your usual practice spot in the gardens outside the Cathedral. There’s some debate over who gets to wear the ‘Star of the Show’ Windwheel Aster pin today, but Venti relents quickly and gives you an easy win. You’re pretty sure it’s out of pity for your romantic plight, but you don’t care. The pin looks a lot nicer fastened on the lapel of your coat, anyway - the colour doesn’t match Venti’s cloak at all.

“So what’s the quota for tonight?” Venti asks, giving his lyre an absent-minded strum. “Celestial Destiny on repeat once more, I presume.”

“Shut up,” You groan, flipping open the latches of your instrument case and carefully lifting out your flute. “I’ve just been… lacking inspiration.”

“What you’ve been lacking is emotional fulfilment,” Venti sighs, reaching over and flicking you in the side of the head. “All you do is wander around Mondstadt, practise, and perform. Surely you could compose something flavourful if you had a little more excitement in your life.”

“I have excitement enough just as I am,” You bring your flute to your mouth. “Now shut up and start practising.”

Venti huffs, but begins strumming the opening chords anyway.

The two of you work your way steadily through your usual repertoire for the next hour or so. It goes smoothly as always - you’ve performed these pieces so many times that you could probably play them in your sleep - but you can’t help but feel like something is missing throughout the entire practice. Venti seems to be fully aware of it as well - rather than closing his eyes and swaying along to the music like usual, he just keeps glancing at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, wearing that frown that says ‘I know exactly what’s going on here but I don’t know if I should bring it up’.

Finally, he has enough, abruptly stopping his strumming in the middle of Early Dawn and setting his lyre down on the bench with a huff. “Alright, that’s it!”

You lower your flute and stare at him blankly as he stands and turns to glare at you, hands set firmly on his hips like a scolding parent. “You’re far too dismal! What happened to the Buoyant Balladeer? There’s no breeze in your playing at all!”

“I’m sorry if my heart is too heavy to play as light as the wind,” You retort, setting your flute back in its case. “I’m afraid I’m a little preoccupied.”

Venti looks at you with a furrowed brow as you shut the case with a harsh snap. After a moment, his voice much softer, he asks, “Are you alright?”

You hesitate for a moment. “...yes.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and doesn’t say anything else. After a pause, you groan and concede. “Alright, I’m miserable, so what? Let’s just get on with it.”

“We are most certainly not getting on with it,” He shoots back, turning to face you directly and crossing his arms stubbornly across his chest. “I can’t have my dear [Name] walking around with such a heavy heart. Come on, talk to me. What is it that weighs you down so?”

You stare at him for a long moment. He looks back at you almost unblinkingly, and try as you might to turn away and dismiss him again, there’s something about his wide green eyes that just compels you to tell the truth.

“I’m...afraid.” You say quietly. “It’s such a cliche thing to say, but I’ve really never felt this way before. I don’t… I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Venti smiles reassuringly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. First loves are always scary.”

“I understand that, but…” You bury your face in your hands and groan. “...she’s just so perfect and I’m just so me and it just feels like it’d never work out.”

“Hey, I don’t like that tone!” He scolds lightly, reaching out and flicking you in the cheek. “No talking bad about yourself. Besides, who says it’d never work out? As far as we know, your feelings are mutual.”

“I seriously doubt that,” You sigh, raising your head once again.

Venti raises an eyebrow. “Have you ever asked?”

You’re quiet for another few moments. “...no…”

“Then how do you know what her answer will be?” He asks. “Why assume that it’ll be no?”

You open your mouth to respond, but something suddenly compels you to look over to the town square. Venti goes quiet beside you as you see Lisa, standing beneath the Anemo Archon statue with Razor beside her. She seems to be explaining something to him.

Razor seems to feel your gaze almost as soon as it lands on him and his mentor. His hair bristles, and he abruptly whips around to look at you, but as soon as he sees you, he seems to relax. He lifts a gloved hand to send you a brief wave; you hesitantly return it.

He turns around and tugs on Lisa’s sleeve; she pauses and turns around to follow his pointing finger. You hold your breath as your eyes meet hers.

She raises her hand, and there’s no mistaking it - she’s smiling. An eternity seems to pass within those few seconds of eye contact, and for once your heart isn’t beating in your throat, your breaths aren’t becoming shallow and uneven, you aren’t heating up and boiling over. Instead, you feel a kind of pleasant warmth well up inside you, and you can’t help but beam and wave back.

Lisa looks at you for another moment, smiles once more, then turns around and begins walking away, gently tapping Razor’s shoulder as she goes. He glances back between you and his teacher, then turns around and follows behind her.

A long silence stretches between you and Venti.

You take a deep breath and turn to look at him, and he immediately grins. Somehow, you get the feeling that he knows what you're going to say.

“I need you to help me write a love song.”

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Kakashi Week Day 1- Jutsu Creation

Pairing: Kakagai

Words: 1927

AO3

@kakashiweek

No longer having Obito’s Sharingan was a loss. A disadvantage that left Kakashi more vulnerable. Unable to fight as well as he had during the fourth great shinobi war, and incapable of being made the new Hokage of Konoha.

That’s just a few of the rumours that Kakashi had heard whispered around the village since his appointment as Hokage. Judgements that had been a part of his life since his father had been shunned when he was a child. Forever growing and changing as the years went by.

Except for this time, there was no truth to the rumours.

The things being said about him were factually wrong, and the only people who believed them and passed them onto the next person were civilians. Those who had no real idea how chakra worked. Who didn’t know what a strain on his chakra reserves the Sharingan had been?

They would know better of course if they saw Kakashi in action. If they just happened to pass by the training field near the Hokage’s residence at moments like this. When Kakashi was in the midst of his daily training, his Anbu guards were hidden away in the tree lines watching over him as always.

Just five minutes of watching Kakashi would tell them everything they needed to know about just how the loss of Obito’s Sharingan had affected him. How much more he could do without the Sharingan constantly eating away at his chakra reserves, even when he wasn’t using it.

Then of course, if too many people were watching he wouldn’t be able to train with the same intensity. Creating a new Jutsu was always a dangerous activity. Not knowing exactly what it was he would get as a result meant that he could accidentally end up hurting someone who was a little too close when he made his next attempt. Plus Kakashi just wasn’t someone who enjoyed being watched. Anbu operatives he could forget about. It was their job to go unnoticed, even if he could still feel their presence. But civilians didn’t know how to hideaway. They’d stand out in the open gawking and whispering among each other. Disrupting his concentration.

It was better than he was able to focus. He’d be able to get it right faster if he was able to keep working uninterrupted. That was, of course, if he managed to get anywhere at all.

“It’s still not right,” Examining the mud wall that he had produced, Kakashi sighed. The goal was to create something stronger than the standard mud wall Jutsu. Something that would be able to withstand more abuse without breaking down. Yet no matter how he changed the hand signs that he weaved, or how much Chakra he tried to focus into the Jutsu, nothing had changed yet. It was a larger mud wall Jutsu, and the dogs that appeared in his Jutsu specifically were still present, but other than that it was still made of the same weak material. “Maybe if I try it one more time and focus a bit more chakra into it. I’m sure with just a little bit more effort…”

There were at least three more solid attempts left in him before his chakra reserves became dangerously depleted. Not quite putting him in danger of being bedridden with chakra exhaustion, but enough to put him on his ass for the rest of the night and tomorrow if he pushed a little too hard.

“Two more tries,” he decided, turning his attention back to the wall that he had already created. When he brought forth the next one, this one would crumble apart under the strain created when the new one was formed underneath it. He had already seen so many of his attempts crumble away as if they were nothing.

A constant reminder of why he was trying to create this new Jutsu. To build a stronger wall that would hold more strain. One that would keep standing, even if he tried to build another wall under it.

“You look like you’re thinking hard,” Turning his head, Kakashi felt all of the pent-up stress washing out of his body at the sight of that stunning, toothy grin that Gai always had on his face. “Genma said you’ve been training since lunchtime. I think it’s time for a break, don’t you?”

Gemma, the traitor. He was going to have to have a talk with his friend about telling about him Gai.

“Mah, you act as if I’m about to collapse at any moment,” reaching his hands up into the air, he stretched his body up towards the sky and watched as Gai maneuvered his wheelchair over the grassy field towards him. “Speaking of relaxing. You haven’t been-“

“You know me, Rival,” Gai cut him off, his smile only growing when Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “Just because I require a wheelchair to get around now, doesn’t mean there aren’t things that I can still do to challenge myself.”

Of course. He should have known that there would be nothing that could stop Gai from doing what he wanted, even with a broken leg that would never heal again. It only made sense that he would find new ways to challenge himself, and so long as he wasn’t straining his injured leg Kakashi didn’t care to stop him. After all, that was Gai. Never giving up no matter what obstacles he may face in life.

“One more try,” he offered, smiling when Gai levelled him with a doubtful look. “Just one more, I promise. And then we can go grab something to eat. How does that sound?”

The look that Gai gives him in return is a cross between doubtfulness and pride. An interesting combination, but judging by the fact that Gai was locking his wheels into place and relaxing into his chair he could assume that the deal was made.

Which meant he had one more attempt. One final try to make even the slightest amount of progress. To prove to himself that he wasn’t just wasting his time on this endeavour and that a new powerful Jutsu could be created if he just kept at it a bit longer.

Turning to face the wall he had just created, he took a deep breath and began to focus his chakra into his hands and imagined the wall that he wanted to create. One was made out of a stronger mineral. Something that could handle the abuse rained down on it from an attack striking it constantly.

In his mind, it was a beautiful mixture of purple and green. Jagged and sharp to touch and solid.

A Jutsu that could protect his village. That would keep all of his friends safe, no matter what attack it had to hold off. So that he never had to see someone he cared about die again or…

His eyes darted back towards Gai, lingering on his leg for a moment.

A Jutsu to protect his precious people.

“One more try,” he reminded himself, focusing his attention back on the training field and digging his heels into the ground. “You can do this, Kakashi.”

Gai, Naruto, Sakura, Tenzo, Sai, Sasuke. The list of people he wanted to protect was endless, and while some of them could do the job infinitely better than him he still wanted to try. What good would he be as Hokage if he couldn’t even protect his precious people?

The hand signs were easy enough to weave. Already cemented in his memory from the multiple tries he had made before this. In the blink of an eye, he had finished weaving the signs and slammed his hands down against the ground, his eyes glued on the space in front of him as a giant wall rose from the ground to protect him from an imaginary foe.

It was mud. Still, just mud.

“Damn it.”

“It looks stronger than before,” hearing Gai’s voice getting closer to him, Kakashi turned his head to the side and watched as his best friend wheeled up to his side. “Your hard work is paying off, Rival!”

It was amazing how Gai could look at anything and see success. Even with the biggest failures, he could find something to celebrate. The smallest bit of success to focus on, while Kakashi dwelled on the failure.

“It’s just mud,” resting a hand on his hip, he glared at the wall in front of him. “Nothing has changed.”

“Sometimes looking at the bigger picture makes you miss the small victories,” Rolling further ahead, Gai stopped directly in front of the wall and reached out to tap his finger against a small portion of the wall. A spot where, if he focused hard enough, Kakashi could see the smallest glimmer of purple. “It may not be much, but it is an improvement. Don’t you agree?”

Waiting for Gai to lower his hand, Kakashi slowly reached out to touch the wall. Almost not believing what his eyes were seeing, he expected to feel the mud. brittle and flimsy, but effective for a short period. What he felt instead was a solid rock-hard surface. Not jagged, but stronger than mud could ever hope to be. “Since when are you the insightful type?”

“Well, someone has to pick up the slack when you’re too busy being down on yourself,” giving his head a shake, Kakashi dropped his hand back down to his side and turned to face Gai. “Ready to grab something to eat now?”

“That sounds amazing,” He could continue his training in the morning after a nice long rest. For now, he could enjoy some downtime with his best friend. “on one condition.”

“Kakashi…”

“No, hear me out,” Gai would probably think he had lost his mind, but it was worth a shot. “We should have an eating competition.”

Gai’s jaw dropped open. “Did you just-“

“Don’t tell me you’re not up for it,” doing a one hundred eighty-degree turn, Kakashi gave Gai a playful wave. “Come on. I bet I can beat you no problem.”

His teasing was met with a triumphant shout. One that could easily shatter the windows in a building, if they were close enough to one. “I’ll win this challenge Rival, don’t doubt it!” He proclaimed with the same pride and enthusiasm that he always had when it came to their challenges. “And once I do I’ll be ahead of you in points once again!”

“We’ll be tied,” Kakashi corrected him as he started to make his way towards the exit. “You keep forgetting about the Sushi eating competition!”

“This will be a rematch of that then! And I’ll prove to you once and for all that I can beat you in anything!” The sound of Gai’s wheelchair moving behind him brought a smile to Kakashi’s face. One that he could only explain with a single word. Relief.

Relief that he hadn’t had to say goodbye to another friend.

That he didn’t have another name to look at in the memorial stone.

For that, he would gladly have another hundred challenges without complaint.

“I will win,” Gai’s voice called out to him. A blinding smile greeting him when he looked over at his friend. “I can promise you that, Rival.”

“Well, If you do then I’ll just have to spend the whole night working on my Jutsu,” He decided, chuckling when Gai’s eyes went wide. The use of his impossible punishments not going over his head, even when they came from Kakashi’s mouth. “After all, I can’t let you beat me at everything.”