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hayatoseyepatch · 6 months ago

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Description: Getting kinky with the windbreaker boys. I have so many thoughts about these men and I just needed to get them out of my system. Characters: Toma Hiragi, Ren Kaji, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo, & Yamato Endo. Word Count: 2.2k Tags: fem!reader, brat taming, praise, somnophilia, edging, mommy kink, dacryphilia, consent non consent, choking, degradation, oral (fem!receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk.

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a/n: These are more like thirsts than headcannons but oh well. I might expand on some of these eventually and turn them into full fics if I can sit down and commit to it. It the mental illness, innit? Regardless, I hope you enjoyed these little blurbs! Special shout out to @foxyfiction & @to-eden for helping me with the prompts for some of these, you both are amazing. <3

I also have a masterlist now, if you’re interested that could be found : HERE

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Brat Taming

Hiragi had enough of you today, your skirt pulled up high, a constant switch in your hips while on patrol today with the Tamon team. Constantly teasing him, whether it was pulling him into an alley for an impromptu make out session, bending over in front of him letting him catch a glimpse of your already wet panties, or rubbing against his perpetually hard cock as you “just needed to slip past him real quick”. He was patient, tension building throughout the day coming to a fever pitch when you had both made it back to your shared apartment. He was on you in moments, lifting the back of your skirt to lay a harsh lap to you ass. Grabbing a fistful of your hair as he growls in your ear. “ I want you on that bed and I want you completely bare, do you understand?” He releases you hair, watching as you strip for him, climbing on the bed moments after you do.

Grabbing a hold of your cheeks with a rough hand he forces you to look up at him, eyes glazed over with arousal. Squishing your cheeks he props your mouth open, shoving a long digit past your lips. He grins as your mouth instinctively wraps around the digit, pumping the finger in and out of your lips, eyes rolling back as he feels your tongue wrap around the digit. Sucking his teeth as you shoot him a wink as he stuffs a second digit in your mouth. “Such a fucking brat, you know that?” He forces your thighs apart, free hand punctuating his words with a harsh slap to your dripping cunt.

His fingers sliding down, his fist two digits using your saliva that coated them to rub fast smooth circles against the sensitive bud. “Don’t forget your still getting punished baby.” He tsks giving you a sharp toothed grin. “Look at your pretty cunt, clenching around nothing, poor baby.” He coos, leaning down to your ear, lips grazing the shell to whisper. “You’re going to have to come from just my fingers before you can have my cock baby, think you can do that for me, hmm?”

Praise (Receiving)

Kaji had lost his temper once more, today a fight had broken out. One of the members of the opposing gang had harshly grabbed your arm, tugging you against him spitting extremities about the things he plandded to do to you. The words coupled with the fear in your wide eyes had Kaji seeing red. Completely blacking out in a fit of rage, he hated his, he especially hated you seeing him like this. The few times he had lost his temper in front of you, he ran, unable to face you. But not this time, you wouldn’t let him run from you. Grabbing the sleeve of his jacket you were quick to take him back to your apartment, silencing whatever apologies or exasperations with your lips against his.

Walking him backward toward your bedroom you wait for the back of his knees to hit the mattress. Pushing him to sit down as you climb on his lap. Mouths entangling in a heated embrace, clothes being pulled from each others bodies in a rush of passsion. Kaji trails kisses down your exposed body, lips wrapping arount a perked bud taking your nipple into his mouth. You rocked your hips against his, gronaing into the air. Your hands unfaten his pants, and with his help you pull his cock from his pants. You give him a smile, stroking his cheeks, eyes soft with fondness. “You're such a good boy Ren, always so good to me.”

You coo, the praise falling from your lips as you place one more kiss to his lips. Moving to grab him by the base, positioning him at your entrance, the desperate look in his eyes is all the confirmation you need to sink down on his length. You bite your lip, letting out a whimper at the feeling of his thick cock filling you to the brim. You tangle one hand in his hair, pulling lightly on his blonde strands, while the other moves up to his shoulder, nails digging into the skin. Pulling away only far enough to mumble into his lips. “Fuck, Ren.. Feel so good, you fill me up so good baby. I love you so much.”

Somnophillia

You wake feeling something warm between your legs. It isn’t long before your head is thrown back against the pillows you were once sleeping soundly against, voice crying out in pleasure as your boyfriend’s tongue draws slow patterns on your sensitive clit. You look down at him eyes lidded with sleep and now lust. “Haru.. what are you doing?” You mumble, blinking the sleep from your eyes. Between your thighs you can feel his cheeks heat up, a feirce blush on his features. He barely pulls from your cunt, mumbling against your center. “Couldn’t sleep, needed to taste you, ‘m want you so bad.”

He groans, hips rutting into the mattress, desperate for some friction to his aching cock. Any further arguments are silenced by a loud moan erupting from your lips, Sakura licks a fat stripe up your clit brfore reattaching his lips fully to your nub. He eats your cunt with such desperation, as if he needed to conume you to keep air in his lungs. His tongue is soon replaced by the rough pad of his thumb, head ducking lower to slide his tongue inside of your entrance, sliding against the silk walls of your pussy. He groans deep in his throat, the vibrations of the noise only enhancing the pleasure you’re feeling. ”Always taste so fucking good, need more..” He groans, pulling from your center, he slides up your body lips attacking yours with reckless hunger. He slid the material of his boxers down in one swift motion, grabbing himself by the base of his cock, collecting your wetness on the tip of his cock using it to ease himself inside your velvety walls.

He lets out a loud groan as he fully sheaths his cock inside you, head dipping to capture your lips with his own. The kiss is immediately laced with hunger, teeth clashing and tongues dancing in each others mouths. He pulls away, heavy breaths fanning against your lips as he sets a harsh steady pace from the start. “Fuck baby… can’t even sleep without you consuming my thoughts. Need you desperately… constantly.. feel like I’ll lose it if I’m not inside of you.”

Edging/Mommy Kink

You place a delicate kiss to his lips, trailing your kisses down his body until you were situated between his thighs. Looking up at him with hooded eyes from your current position. “You weren't lying baby boy. Look at how hard you are.” You grin, not letting him answer as you gave a few experimental tugs to his cock. Leaning up to lick a fat stripe from his base to his tip, collecting the pre come that had been steadily dripping since you had begun. Pulling away and leaning up once again, you grab his face in your hand, forcing his mouth open before letting your saliva mixed with his precum drip from your mouth to his. Placing a hand over his mouth, you lean down to his ear. “Swallow baby, I want you to taste us.”

You take his shock as an opportunity to lower yourself back down between his legs, swirling your tongue around his sensitive mushroom tip, taking as much as your throat would allow, hollowing your cheeks. Beginning to bob your head up and down on his cock. Choji tugged at the cloth around his wrists, restraining himself as much as he could to not buck his hips. Failing miserably as his body writhed under yours He cried out as he felt your warm mouth around his cock, tears collecting by the corners of his eyes. Whimpers and cries falling from his lips as he found every ounce of restraint to not let his body betray him. The could in his stomach building once more for what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening. He didn’t want to fuck all of this up and receive punishment even further. “Mommy, please your mouth is so warm… be careful. I dont wanna come.. too soon.”

You grin around him, looking up at him through your lashes, nearly removing yourself from him before plunging back down, taking him until you feel him hit the back of your throat. You do this a few more times before pulling yourself off his cock with a 'pop'. You make your way up his body, getting impatient yourself, feeling your cunt clench around nothing. Straddling his abdomen, right above where he needed you most, pressing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Desperately trying not to show that you were just as affected by your actions. You grab a fistful of his hair, tugging harshly, effectively separating your lips as you speak against his lips. “Tell mommy what you want baby boy. Go on, use your words I want to hear you.”

Dacryphillia

Each one of your pleas fog his mind with uncontrollable lust. Wram brown irises drowning in it. “So desperate for me already, darling, we havent even begun the main event.” He teases, directly into your ear, as he finally lines the tip of his thick cock with your entrance. Suo had been teasing you for what seemed like hours. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated cunt. Having made you come undone on his fingers and tongue several times, your pussy having felt desperatly empty without his cock filling you. He grins as you whine, his head just barely probing your entrance. “Please, Haya.” You whimper desperate for him to do something, anything, tears blurring your vision as they collected at your lashline.

“Please?” He tiles his head in mocking obliviousness. “Please what princess? Gotta tell me what to do or I cant help you, tell me what is it that you want?” He coos, free hand sliding up your stomach, thumb circling a pert nipple. Grinning he leans down tugging on your earlobe with this teeth, breaths fanning against your ear as he continues to speak. “Want me to fill this pretty pussy up with my cock? Feeling you flutter against me, whimpering out my name from those beautiful lips. Is that what youre asking for my pretty little bunny?”

He grins eyes lithe with mischief as you continue to babble, words coming out in a jumbled mess of pleas and calls of his name. Fat tears stream down your cheeks, desperation for him consuming your entire being. Suo’s hand coming up to caress your cheek. Thumb swiping at the tears that cascaded down your face. “Oh, sweet baby” He purrs, slipping the same thumb past your lips, letting you taste the salty wetness of your tears. “Crying for me already? We’ve barely even started.” He giggles, hips lurching forward, slamming into you to the hilt with one swift movement of his hips. Groaning as your back arches from the bed, eyes rolling back with a scream of his name being forced from your lips. “As much as I’d love to hear you beg for it, ive been waiting for too long for you my princess.~”

Cat and Mouse/CNC

Your breaths come out in heavy pants, your heart racing in your chest, your feet slamming against the grassy terrain as you run as fast as your legs can carry you. The shadow of the figure on your tail looming behind you. You pushed further, weaving in and out of trees to shake your assailant. The dark wooded area was easy to get lost in. You had only paused your running for a moment, attempting to take in your soundings, looking for a route to escape. Attempting to catch your breath, you were sure you had lost him. Just as you were about to turn on your heel and take off once more your eyes shoot wide, feeling fingers of a large hand wrap themselves around your throat. Your attacker using their grip as leverage to shove you roughly against a tree, the larger figure looms over yours. Tattooed fingers squeezing just enough to make gaining air flow a bit difficult. Lips grazing your ear as he leans down to your height. “Gotcha~”

Endo’s piercing blue eyes lock with yours, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Tongue invading your mouth, free hand coming up to cup your dripping cunt. Fingers circling your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. He smirks against your lips as you moan into his mouth. Pulling from you, he quickly removes your soiled panties, running his finger between your soaked slit. Bringing his finger to his lips taking in the way you taste, moaning around his fingers.

“Fuck doll, you taste so fucking good. Already so fucking wet for me.” He uses his thumb to force your mouth open, spitting a glob of saliva between your parted lips. “Go on babydoll, taste yourself.” He chuckles as you instinctively swallow, turning you in his embrace so your bent over. Flipping up your skirt, he leans back to take all of you in, eyes hungrily wracking over your exposed sex. Parting your folds with a thumb, watching as your entrance contracts around nothing a large grin splits across his face as he lands a harsh slap against your ass. “Gotta remind you who this belongs too huh? This cunt is mine princess.”

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Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! I already have a part two in mind for this, so keep an eye out. Until then, see you later!

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beomcoups · 4 months ago

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Legal Briefs

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lawyer!Dokyeom x fem!reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: pwp, corporate au, 18+, non-idol au 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, riding, unprotected sex, cream pie, pet names, slight exhibitionism, oral (m. receiving), clit stimulation, squirting 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.1k 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Dokyeom is stressed out over his case, and you use your brain in more ways than one to help him relax.

AN: Thank you to @miabebe for beta reading this for me at the last minute and @miniseokminnies being lovely. This is a repost, as this fic was originally written for another idol. I have decided to edit it and make it fit Dokyeom more. I hope you enjoy it <3. Also, tagging @onlyseokmins because that's your man, duh, lol. If you want to be tagged in future fics, sign up here🤎

Dokyeom is one of the most prominent corporate lawyers in your country, and you understand how hard he works daily to maintain that reputation. You were a lawyer when you met him, so you know the ins and outs of the legalities and how stressful it can be defending clients. Your first time seeing him was at a kickboxing gym you both frequented and then on the opposite end of the court, duking it out to protect your clients involved in a breach of contract. You may have won that battle, but in the end, Dokyeom won your heart, and you left the corporate life behind to be a housewife.

You walk into the swanky thirty-floor office building, and the security guard greets you as you approach the elevator. You are holding Dokyeom’s favorite lunch, pizza with cheese sticks, secured in a heated lunch box. You also brought fruit and juice, which he has been into lately. It’s a nice day outside, and what would be better than spending lunch with your husband?

You hum your way up to the 20th floor, greeted by the receptionists as the elevator doors open. The anticipation is building, and the excitement and butterflies in your stomach are brewing as you make your way to his office. You speak to everyone that makes eye contact with you. Everyone knows you as the boss’s wife, a hotshot lawyer, giving it all up for love.

“Hi,” his secretary greets you nervously as you approach her desk. “He seems a bit stressed out today. That case with the pharmaceutical company isn’t going well, and I’m pretty sure I heard papers flying around.”

This concerns you, as it is different from Dokyeom to lose his cool like that. You thank her and tap quietly on the office door, waiting to hear his voice before entering.

“Yes?” His smooth voice makes your heart jump.

You open the door, and your eyes widen at the scene before you. There are papers and folders all over the floor. Dokyeom is lying on the sofa, his suit jacket covering his face and his arms folded on his chest.

“I take it you’re having a bad day?” You ask gently, setting the lunch down on his desk.

His face lights up when he lays his eyes on you, jacket falling to the floor as he jumps up to greet you.

“I wasn’t expecting you here,” he replies before getting up and kissing your cheek. “I would’ve cleaned up.”

“And miss all this drama?” you tease him. “Come on, I’ll help you put everything back.”

You survey the papers and put the files back in their folders. You know where everything goes because you helped him set up his file system to make his life easier. You may not be practicing law right now, but it doesn’t mean you haven’t had to use your expertise a few times to help your husband win a few cases. You initially quit your previous firm because you felt burnt out and needed a break. Then, when you got married, you wanted to spend time being a new wife and try for a family. Dokyeom supported you in all of that. He never made you feel inferior or less than for stepping away from your career to be at home. Now, it’s been two years, and the children haven’t come yet, but maybe it’s just not time, as lately, you have been missing practicing law.

Dokyeom helps you and profusely apologizes. “You don’t need to apologize,” you wave him off. But this is not like you; what happened?”

His expression changes, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. He takes a deep breath before putting the last envelope into the bookshelf.

“I am missing a critical piece of evidence, a part of a contract that proves my client’s innocence,” Dokyeom begins, clutching onto the desk. “I know who to subpoena, but the judge is being a real asshole and won’t allow me to access those documents. So my client might lose, and then they’ll drop me, which means bye to our house.”

He removes his tie and takes a sip from his water bottle, his Adam's apple shifting as he gulps. Your very frustrated husband is also very hot, and it’s taking all your willpower to stay on task.

“Listen,” you redirect your focus to his problem. “There’s no guarantee that you will lose this case, and we definitely are not losing our house. Why don’t you eat the lunch I brought, and we will figure it out, okay?”

He nods and kisses you on the forehead, his way of saying thank you that still makes you feel warm inside. You watch him take out his lunch, and you start to eat yours, making small talk about your day as you dig through the cheese sticks.

“When did you order this, babe?” Dokyeom asks, mouth stuffed with pepperoni and cheese. “You were cleaning up when I left for work.”

“I ordered it right before I came up here,” you say proudly, feeding him some of your pizza. “I got tired of eating lunch alone and wanted to see you. Looks like you needed me too.”

He gives you a kind smile that soothes your soul like a warm hug. You talk more about the case as you clear out your food containers. Dokyeom mentions that he has been trying to get the evidence to no avail for the past week. Watching him stressing himself out bothers you, as you know how hard he has worked on this case, and you want to see him succeed. His eyes were glued to the papers in front of him, skimming over everything to find a possible loophole. You can’t help but take in how handsome he looks, focused on his work, his jaw clenching as his frustration mounts.

So, you came up with an idea.

“Hey, babe,” you get his attention, removing your cardigan. “I’m going to help you relax, okay?”

He nods, his shoulders still tense up from reading over the paperwork. You move behind him, relaxing your hands on his shoulders before you massage them, making him feel more at ease. You start unbuttoning his shirt, reaching down to rub his chest while leaving kisses on his neck.

“Well, this is one way to do it,” Dokyeom hums, setting down his pen. He moves his head and kisses you deeply, his hands gracing your face softly, pulling you deeper into his rapture of love. You make a move to sit on his lap, taking off your tank top and exposing your favorite bra that pushes up your breasts just right.

“Was this always the plan?” He smirks, leaving kisses down your neck. His lips suck on your sweet-tasting skin, his tongue trailing down to the valley of your breasts.

“And if it was?” You move in front of him, sitting on his lap, and your skirt hikes over your hips. “What are you going to do about it?”

He chuckles and kisses you more, removing your bra and throwing it across the office. You lift and reach down, undoing his pants and lowering his briefs, feeling the growing bulge hardening along your slit. “No panties? Aw, baby…”

“What?” You smiled coyly. “Do you want me to leave? I can just get up—”

“W-what? No, no, it’s not that,” his cheeks turn pink in a panic. “I hate to rush, but I have to be in a meeting in twenty minutes,” Dokyeom’s breathing hitches as his hand touches his manhood, stroking his thick girth to your naked breasts and exposed ass. You lower yourself until you are on your knees, moving his hand away as you take over. You kiss his dick just the way he likes it, his legs tensing up as you take him in your mouth. His thickness takes over your mouth as you suck him good, your free hand playing with your clit as you watch him cock his head back and curse softly.

“Baby, you are so good at this,” he murmurs. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

He gently fucks your face, pacing himself so he doesn’t blow his entire load down your throat. Your eyes lock with his as you take him in deeper, drops of saliva spilling out of the corner of your mouth. Dokyeom is ashamed to admit it, but he likes it when you look like this: the makeup on your sweet face ruined with tears because you sucked him off so well. You would never tell him this, but you love how he tastes. The way his smooth cock hits the back of your throat makes you dripping wet, and if you keep up any longer, you will cum on this floor.

“H-honey,” he sputters. “I have 15 minutes. Get on top.”

You slowly take him out of your mouth with a pop, lifting yourself and positioning yourself to sink into him. You both groan in unison when you are entirely on his lap, your nails digging into the armrest of his chair.

“This won’t take long, I promise,” you mutter, giving yourself a few seconds to get used to his size before slowly grinding on him and enjoying the feeling of him being inside of you. His body tenses at your movements and his fingers massage your clit softly. You unexpectedly let out a loud moan, and he covers your mouth with his hand.

“I know this feels good, bouncing on my hard dick, but you are going to have to keep it down, princess,” he grits.

Dokyeom knows what that does to you, calling you princess as he fucks you into an earth-shattering orgasm. You’re a squirter, and he knows that, so it was unsurprising that your lower halves were covered with your essence. Your eyes never leave each other, whispering I love you and trading meaningful kisses. Dokyeom’s head rolls back, whispering songs of praise as you continue to ride him on his office chair.

“Baby, I’m close,” he whines, his hands gripping your hips. You grind on him hard, finding your clit and releasing again shortly after. Dokyeom follows right behind you, spilling deep inside of you as his head buries deep into your neck. As he slows down, he kisses you lovingly, making sure your cunt is full of his cum before pulling out. You're still trying to catch your breath when you climb off of him to clean yourself up.

“Mr Lee?” His secretary’s voice booms through the speaker, startling you both. “Your meeting starts in five minutes.”

“O-okay.”

You can see the time on his laptop, and the 5-minute reminder before the meeting stops flashing wildly on his screen. You find your bra and hurriedly put it on, with Dokyeom already dressed and holding your tank top and cardigan.

“What?” You catch him staring at you curiously.

“You are so bad.” “Well, isn’t that why you fell in love with me? Aside from me beating your ass in court, of course.”

You finish getting dressed, helping him put his tie back on, and kissing him goodbye before heading out the door. You catch a photo you missed picking up earlier, and something catches your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Babe.” You pick up the photograph and inspect it thoroughly. “What’s the name of the judge?”

“Judge Choi,” he responds, preparing himself for his meeting. “Why?”

“This wouldn’t happen to be the judge in the 17th court, would it?

You pull out your phone and look him up, confirming your suspicions.

“Okay, I know that look,” Dokyeom comments, a puzzled look on his face. “What’s up?”

“This judge used to give me shit when I was practicing, but I always found a way to get around him,” you start. “There was talk about him being a crooked judge and being paid off by companies, but I could never confirm it until now. Look at the picture.”

You show him the photograph of the rival company at an event, pointing at the missing piece of the puzzle: the judge and the company’s CEO, arm in arm, taking a picture. “That’s why the judge is shutting you down, babe,” you confirm. “He has ties to the other guys. Judge Choi should have recused himself a long time ago.”

Dokyeom looks at you, amazed that his wife could figure out why he had this roadblock. “God, what would I do without you?”

“You’d still be losing to me in court.” You kiss him goodbye again, letting him prepare to attend his meeting. You close the door, and his secretary smiles at you and motions for you to come closer to her.

“You should be more careful in there, dear,” she advises. “The whole office heard you.”

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junnylunny · 5 days ago

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Cafe Owner ˚

! synopsis: you specifically order two matcha lattes every morning for your boss. however, one day, the cute café owner's kind gesture breaks your repetitive schedule and begins a new chapter with him.

! word count: 722

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you hurriedly got in line, relieved to see the short line in front of you.

"next in line, please," a familiar face welcomed the customer: it was the café owner.

a week ago, the café opened on the first floor of your company. in contrast to the past cafe's unpopularity, employees rushed to get a cup of coffee and especially a look at the café owner's face. his charismatic smile could only attract more customers, warming the café, with his built figure defining more clearly as he poured the drinks.

despite also finding the café owner cute, your daily mission was to get back to your desk with two iced matcha lattes in your hand; one for you and your boss.

you looked down at your watch to check the time: 8:30. you had exactly 30 minutes before making your boss cranky- which was the absolute worst.

"i can help the next person," the owner's eyes lit up as he called for you next.

you walked up to the register, being welcomed to a smell of warm coffee from him.

"hi, how are you?" he greeted you with a charming smile.

"i'm doing well, how are you?" you asked back.

"i'm doing well too," his direct yet gentle eyes made you freeze as he looked down at the screen to input your order.

"would you like your regular today?" he asked, wanting to confirm despite it being your daily order. you stayed silent, your eyes not wanting to track off his face.

"two matcha lattes?" he looked up from the screen after your silence.

"um, yes please," you embarrassingly smiled. you looked away, wondering if he just saw you as the girl who only ordered matcha.

"and order for y/n..." he muttered as he plugged your order and name into the system. hearing him mutter your name, you couldn't help but look at his name tag: jay, you quietly said under your breath.

"yes?" he said, looking puzzled.

"oh, no. sorry," you awkwardly laughed. embarrassed he heard you. "you have my name memorized but i think it's the first time i've ever seen your name tag," you said.

"no, i understand. i see you're always in a rush, and i couldn't miss a regular customer" jay laughed. "and you know what, i'll have your drink covered today."

"what, are you sure? i use the company card anyways,” you looked puzzled at his kind gesture.

"yeah, i'm sure. it's on me." jay assured you.

"okay, thank you," you thanked him.

although it was nice of him to pay for your drink, you were curious to whether or not this occurred to other regulars. is he interested in me or am i reading the signals wrong? you thought to yourself.

anticipating to be discouraged with his answer, you shyly asked, “do you usually do this for other regulars as well?”

he laughed at your question, finding it silly. “not at all.” a small smile appeared on your face, making you feel special, even if it wasn’t true.

"your drink will be out soon," he said. you nodded and left to wait at a table.

within minutes, he came with a tray with your two drinks and a small packaged cookie. "here's your order!" he placed the tray down carefully. "the cookie is for you so don't forget to eat it."

"thank you. i needed this." you said, appreciating his thoughtful gesture.

happy with your response, jay gave you a genuine smile and left to go back to work. as he left, the corner of lips raised as you curled your lips in. unable to hide your smile, you grabbed the cookie and saw the note attached to it.

"i see you come to the cafe every morning and i think you're really cute. i want to get to know you better! i was wondering if i take you out on a date today after work if you have time. :)"

you looked up from the note to look at him working behind the counter. he noticed you looking at him and raised 7 fingers, mouthing the words, "is 7 pm okay?"

you nodded, happily agreeing to the date. you looked down at the note one more time, anticipating that maybe, you weren't going to find ordering two matcha lattes as a chore anymore.

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#enhypen #oneshot #romance #enhypen x reader #enhypen jay #enhypen scenarios #jay x you #jay x reader #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #engene #park jongseong #jay enhypen #matcha #cafe setting

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thursdayinspace · 15 days ago

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post-Milagro ficlet

I got an ask from a lovely anon a few days ago about *the* quote from Milagro: "Agent Scully is already in love." This is part of what will maybe turn out to be a larger WIP, or maybe not. It stands on its own for now. But who knows. Anon: thanks for the ask! I took a bit of a different turn with this, but I couldn't manage post-Milagro fic that didn't have some angst in it. tagging @today-in-fic

Agent Scully is already in love.

A look at the alarm clock tells her it’s 3 a.m. and she hasn’t managed to sleep more than a few minutes at a time. Every time she drifts off, the same thoughts jerk her awake again. She can still feel the hand around her heart, the horror and fear, the absolute certainty in her mind that this was it, she couldn’t fight this, nobody was gonna save her this time.

But she’s okay. She’s not even hurt. There’s even a decent chance that she’ll get the blood out of her clothes, even though she’s not sure she ever wants to wear them again. She’s okay, and yet she’s lying here wide awake at 3 a.m., the past few days replaying on a constant loop in her mind. She has no idea why she ever even talked to Padgett. Quite honestly, she has no idea why she did any of the things she did. She has no idea how she didn’t end up hurt or dead.

She knew the risks she was taking. Interacting with your own stalker—a really fucking terrible idea. But it’s only now that she’s truly afraid. Now that it’s over.

Mulder offered to stay with her. He would have let her stay at his apartment, but she had to get out of there, and he understood. A part of her wishes she’d have let him sleep on her couch the way he wanted. Having him close by might be a comfort now. Or it might not.

Agent Scully is already in love.

One more thing she can’t forget, no matter how hard she tries. Padgett was clearly not well, and she never should have listened to a word he said, but she did. She listened, and she heard things that were never meant to be spoken aloud.

And Mulder was there. Mulder heard. She turns her face into the pillow and squeezes her eyes closed. She doesn’t wanna hear it anymore. She doesn’t want those words.

If it weren’t for those words, maybe she could have let Mulder stay. Maybe it would have been okay.

Deep breaths, she tells herself. Breathe. Relax. Think about nothing. Think about puppies and nice hot baths and the smell of freshly baked cookies.

A hand around her heart, squeezing. She can’t move, the floor hard against her back, and she knows she’s dying, she can’t move, she can’t…

Fuck. She rolls onto her back and covers her eyes with her hands as if that could stop the images from flooding her tired mind.

Jolting back to consciousness, her body tight with fear and shock, and Mulder right there, Mulder with his worried eyes, Mulder’s arms around her holding her close, Mulder, Mulder, Mulder.

She wants Mulder. Oh god. She shouldn’t have sent him away when he dropped her off, when he asked whether she wanted him to come up.

She could call her mom.

She could deal with this on her own like a fucking adult who doesn’t need anyone to hold her hand every time she gets scared.

A tiny part of her brain reminds her that this was bad, that she has every right to be shaken up. But she wants her mind to be wrong about this. She just wants it to be over.

She wants Mulder.

Agent Scully is already in love.

Mulder is the last person she can call right now.

They have worked out a system a long time ago for when one of them can’t sleep. Call and let it ring once, then hang up. If the other one is awake enough to reach for the phone, they talk. Otherwise they let each other sleep. She could do that. He’d understand. Hell, he’s probably lying awake expecting her to call. Which makes her that much more determined not to do it.

The last digits she reads on her alarm clock before she drifts off into a restless slumber are 5:28.

At 7 a.m., her alarm rings. She feels terrible. Everyone would understand if she took a sick day. But then she’d sit here all day with her thoughts, with her memories, with nothing to distract her.

When she walks into the office, she doesn’t remember getting dressed, she doesn’t remember driving to work. She’s not sure whether she had breakfast or not. She’s not even entirely sure she’s awake.

“Scully!” Mulder sounds surprised, and she manages to lift her head high enough to look at him as he walks around the desk. He comes straight towards her to put his hands on her shoulders. “Scully, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I’m fine. Just. Didn’t sleep great.”

He doesn’t let go of her, just stands there biting his lip and giving her that soft look that makes her want to weep.

She doesn’t need this on top of everything. Maybe she should have stayed home after all. She’s so good at keeping her feelings locked away. Today, she barely has the strength to stand upright or formulate a single thought that isn’t Oh god, I’m so tired.

“Go home,” Mulder says. “I’ll drive you.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I need to… I just need to take my mind off things.”

A stranger’s fist inside her chest, forcing the life from her body, merciless, cold. Pain, panic.

Mulder squeezes her shoulders gently. “You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t expect you to come in. I’m sure neither did Skinner. Take a few days. You need rest.”

She shakes her head, regretting the movement as the room spins out of focus for a second. “What I need is to work.” What she needs is to know if Mulder knows. She knows her fear is safe with him. She doesn’t know about all the rest. She needs something to hold onto. Something stronger than the fear. “I’m not going home,” she tells him firmly.

He hesitates a long moment, an eternity. Finally, he nods. “Okay,” he says. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Mulder looks very unhappy, but she can’t do anything about that. She just needs… she just needs something to occupy her mind. Before she passes out on the floor and dreams of a hand around her heart, squeezing the life out of her.

“Hey, Scully?”

She blinks her eyes open, disoriented for a second. Her neck hurts and her head is spinning as she sits up. Mulder is standing in the doorway. She’s sitting behind the desk. Right. She wanted to check something. He went to… do something else that she doesn’t remember. “Sorry,” she says, and wipes drool from the corner of her mouth. Falling asleep at the desk is probably not the best way to convince him she’s okay to work. A quick look at her watch tells her she can’t have been out for more than ten minutes. “What is it?”

He waves a file in her direction. “I think we should check this out as quickly as possible,” he says.

“Oh.” She manages a nod. Do they have a case? She remembers talking about something earlier that they decided to dismiss. She can’t even recall what it was. But apparently they settled on something. “Yeah, absolutely.” She pauses, not sure whether she wants to ask. She really doesn’t want him to know that she completely zoned out on all of it. But then again, she can’t exactly do her work if she doesn’t know what they’re even working on. “What, uh. What is the case again? Sorry, I guess I’m a bit… distracted today.”

“Yeah.” He gives her a long look. “The haunted hotel, remember? And it’s just an hour and a half from here.”

“Oh!” she says, pretending to remember, deciding she can read whatever is in that folder on the way to… wherever it is they’re going. “Right. Yes. Okay. And you want us to go there right now?”

“Why not?” he says, shrugging. “No time like the present.”

“Good, yeah, okay.” She suppresses a yawn and tries not to shiver too obviously. She has reached the level of exhaustion where her whole body hurts and she feels like she’s running a fever.

“I’ll drive,” he says. She doesn’t argue.

Out of sheer stubbornness, she manages not to fall asleep in the car. She even manages to make conversation. Her speech is barely even slurred. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t notice.

Unfortunately, he put the file in the trunk of the car before she remembered to take it from him, but he’s telling her some ghost stories about the place while they drive, so she feels reasonably well-prepared.

“Here we are,” he says, pulling into the parking lot of an expensive-looking hotel that looks not even remotely like she imagined. But after all these years, she’s come to expect the unexpected.

“This is it?”

“Yup.” He smiles at her and gets out of the car. She follows, her legs heavy, but she gets them moving, gets them to carry her towards the entrance of the building.

The spacious foyer they walk into screams “I’m way out of your pay grade,” and she notices guests and staff who all look very happy and not at all like they’re being plagued by ghost sightings. Business seems to be going well. Which is also not what she expected from a place that is haunted enough for Mulder to open an X-file on it. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says, and something in his voice makes her turn her head and study his profile carefully.

“Mulder, what aren’t you telling me?”

He stops and turns towards her with a sigh. “I may have done something rash and stupid, and please feel free to yell at me if I completely overstepped any boundaries here.”

“Oh god,” she says. “What did you do?”

“I, um.” He directs his gaze at the floor next to her feet and grimaces. “I may have gone to Skinner and told him we’re both taking the rest of the week off.”

“You…what?”

“And I may have called here and booked us a suite. For two nights. A… vacation, I guess.”

“Mulder…”

“Two bedrooms. And there are go ghosts here, don’t worry.” He pauses before he continues, his voice low and careful. “As long as we’re anywhere near the Hoover Building, you’ll work. I know it and you know it.”

“Mulder, seriously…”

“You need to sleep, Scully,” he says, finally meeting her eyes. “You’re dead on your feet. You can barely keep your eyes open.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. She’s so tired. So very, very tired. All she wants is a bed. All she wants is for her memories to leave her alone. All she wants is to sink against Mulder’s chest and cry with exhaustion and the emotional hangover from almost being murdered. Again. “…Okay.”

“Okay?” He looks so hopeful, so relieved. Another thing that almost makes her cry.

Agent Scully is already in love.

Shit. He makes it really hard for her to feel any other sort of way about him. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Good.”

She frowns. “What about all those stories you just told me about this place?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I kind of made them up.”

Her laughter turns into a yawn and he puts his arms around her shoulders as they get their key and find the elevator up to their floor. She leans against him, letting him hold her upright. Now that she’s given in to this, the prospect of lying down and closing her eyes seems so overwhelmingly wonderful.

“Oh no,” she says, suddenly remembering something.

“What is it?” he asks.

“I don’t have anything with me. No clothes, nothing.”

He laughs and pulls her tighter against him just as the elevator door opens and they step out. “I’m sorry. I honestly completely forgot about that.”

“Yeah.” She feels such a rush of fondness for him it makes her aching heart flutter in her chest. “I’m noticing you don’t have a bag with you either.”

“Well.” He lets go of her to open the door to their suite and lets her walk in ahead of him. “We’ll just have to spend the next couple of days in hotel robes.”

“Maybe we should go out and buy a few things,” she suggests.

“Or,” he says, “you go and lie down and I’ll go out and pick up a few things for us.”

“But—”

“Scully,” he interrupts. “Trust me. I think I can manage to find a pair of sweatpants and a couple of t-shirts for you that will fit.”

“Underwear,” she says and blushes.

“I can manage that too,” he says, and she’s too tired to feel embarrassed about anything right now.

Agent Scully is already in love.

“Mulder?”

“Yes?”

“You’re the best partner I’ve ever had.”

“That’s not difficult,” he says, “since I’m the only partner you’ve ever had. There’s not really that much competition.”

In lieu of an answer, she hugs him, pleased when he puts his arms around her in return. She doesn’t feel the hard floor against her back when he holds her, she doesn’t remember what it felt like when her vision went black and she felt herself dying.

She really wants to ask him if he knows who Padgett was talking about. If he believed it. But she won’t. Not right now. There’s time. And maybe she already knows the answer. Either way, it’s true. And she’s too weak to fight it.

“Thank you,” she says.

He pulls her closer and sighs against her hair. “I just want you to be okay,” he says softly.

“I will be,” she promises.

Agent Scully is already in love.

Whether it’s friendship or something else that he’s offering, she knows that whatever shape his feelings come in, she’s never been loved like this before. By anyone. And even with all the ghosts in her mind, she feels like she might finally get some sleep after all.

#txf #the x files #msr #mulder and scully #fic #poangpals #this was really fun

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hiiikiko · 2 months ago

Text

𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖊𝖇

[4: guess i have a type]

tlou m.list | series m.list

spiderman!ellie x reader

synopsis: you begin to recognize some similarities between ellie and good ol’ spidey… guess you have a type, huh?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Beep, beep, beep!!

You wake up with a grumble, last nights— er, this morning’s activities had done a number on you.. you weren’t used to so much excitement.

“What time is it?” you mumble against your pillow as you fumble for your phone, the bright light guiding your hand under the sheets, “Gotta call Gwen later.. let’s see.. FUCK!”

You scramble outta bed, tossing the blankets off you and your cat as well, who hissed at you very angrily for disturbing his fourth nap of the morning.

“S-Sorry,” you say to your cat as you scramble to the restroom, quickly brushing your teeth and rushing through your skincare routine. You decided to forgo the makeup today and instead just apply some light mascara and fix your brows up, maybe add some concealer.. and blush.. and maybe just a litt—, “No time!” you scold yourself.

You set your makeup bag down and run for the closet, rummaging around for .. “Ah, there it is!”

You snap the cheap metal buttons of your uniform together, the yellow polo with a red collar and pocket hugging your torso quite nicely, well, as nicely as a 30 year old uniform could, then you slid on the matching red skirt, your tights for extra warmth, shoes, and you can’t forget your name tag that read ‘Mary Jane.’

You quickly feed your cat some snacks, apologizing over and over as he ate and then made your way out. As you ran down the stairs, you pulled your trench coat on tight around you, hiding any part of your uniform.. you weren’t embarrassed about working at a diner but you knew your so-called friends, coworkers, and classmates wouldn’t be so understanding.. after all, you are from a well off family, so it would look funny.. besides, you don’t need anymore rumours going around about you.

As you’re about to round a corner, you bump into an all too familiar someone.

“Woah, slow down,” Ellie chuckled, her hands on your waist to stop you from toppling over.

“O-Oh, morning, Ellie..” you blushed, the memories of last night still fresh, you pulled the coat even tighter, you sure as hell did not want her to see you in this dorky uniform.

“Where you off to? You seem to be in a rush,” she commented, her eyes lingering on your form but before you could answer, your bus was pulling up.

“Sorry, Ellie, uh, chat later? I really gotta go!”

Ellie knew exactly where you were off to, she had stopped by that diner the other day to check out the schedule.. they should really get a better security system, she thought.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“I know, I know! I’m sorry Darlene, I had a late nig—.”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Missy! Just get out there and start taking orders, okay?”

You nod, thankful she didn’t give you another lecture. You liked Darlene, she was like a really cool mom.. who smoked a lot.. and drank a lot.. but she let you keep all your tips so she wasn’t so bad, you gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks, Ma.”

Darlene was like a mom to everyone in the diner, she treated everyone like they were one of her own, it was nice being apart of a ‘family.’

Your morning was full of truckers asking for refills on coffee, business men asking for the paper, ladies of the night coming in after a wild night, and.. Ellie?

“Morning” she smiled at your coworker as she seated her, that goofy lopsided smile made your heart flutter a bit.. actually, you couldn’t tell if it was her smile that was making your heart flutter or if it was the idea of being found out.

You had to hold back a gasp as you dove behind the counter, praying she didn’t see you and as you crawled your way into the kitchen, so close to freedom.. Darlene rounded the corner..

“The hell..? What are you doing down there?” she prodded you with her foot.

You put a finger to your lips and gestured for her to come lean down, she reluctantly did so, grumbling about her knees, “Darlene, can I please, please, please go on my 15 minute break? A girl I lik— uh, know is here..”

“Your break now? You can’t take that until.. another hour!” She pulled you up by your collar, like a mama cat carrying it’s kitten by the scruff.

“Please!”

“No, no way.”

“What if I said I’ve taken up smoking, huh? Then you LEGALLY have to let me take a break.”

“You? You take up smoking?” she scoffed, “Nice try princess, get out there, now.”

You whimpered and straightened your apron as she shoved you out of the kitchen, when Darlene said now, she meant yesterday.

Before the door could swing shut, Darlene poked her head out, “Oh, and we’re changing your section.. you’re now serving tables 11-17.” you could feel the shit eating grin’s aura as she laughed her way back into the kitchen.

God fucking damn it.

“Morning..” you mumbled as you pulled out your notepad, “What can I get you.. Ellie?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up as she laid them on you, “Hey, uh, Mary Jane?”

You rolled your eyes, “What do you want?”

“Hey, hey, slow down! Hm.. what can you recommend MJ?”

“The waffles here are pretty good.”

“I’ll have that then, oh, and coffee, too. Five cream and five sugar.”

You laugh, “Are you serious?”

She stared at you with a deadpan look, “Yeah?”

“Oh my god.. you are.. Ellie, that’s, like, a lot of sugar.. literally diabetes in a cup.”

“I don’t like the taste of coffee.. tastes like burnt shit.”

You scoff, “Then why do you drink it?”

“Keeps me up.”

“You don’t need the caffeine, just take the five sugar packets and you’ll probably still run the same since you’re already drinking sugar with a side of coffee.”

“Shut up, just get me my coffee,” she mumbled.

When you had served Ellie her food and coffee, you expected her to leave right after like every other customer ever but no.. like always, Ellie had to differentiate herself from the crowd. She did leave the diner but she waited in her truck outside. So, when Darlene said you could leave and head to school, Ellie was outside waiting for you.

“Don’t wanna keep lover girl waiting, do ya?” Darlene had said when you clocked out.

The blush from her comment still on your face as you walked to Ellie’s truck and knocked on the window, “Hey, what’re you still doing here?”

Ellie straightened up, “Uh, thought you might like a ride..?”

“You didn’t have to, Ellie.”

“Wanted to do something nice for you,” how could she be so effortlessly sweet.

You nodded and hopped in, her truck was an older model, a chevy. It was nice, inside smelled like pine and cologne..

Do her and spidey share the same cologne?

Now that you think about it, they have a lot of similarities… they’re both nerds, smell like pine, tobacco, and that cologne, same height, and the same music taste.. weird.

Could Ellie be.. Spidey?

You almost let out a laugh at the thought. There’s no universe in which Ellie is Spider-Man. For one, she’s too shy compared to the flirty masked man, two, she’s never been able to hold a conversation with you without turning it back to tutoring.. and three, she’s a girl.. not a man.

Guess I have a type.

“To school or..?”

“Uh, school.. can you drop me off at the cafe across the street? I wanna change before class..” you say, a little embarrassed.

Ellie doesn’t say anything, she just nods as she pulls into the cafe parking lot.

You huff, “Hey, Ellie? Um.. can.. can you not tell anyone? It’s not that I’m embarrassed but y’know.. kids at our school can be mean when it comes to class and..”

Ellie nods, “Don’t I know it?”

You feel a pang of guilt as she says that, you knew Ellie wasn’t as well off as your family was.. in the first two years of college, she was belittled because of it. You didn’t participate in it, of course, but you wish you hadn’t just stood by and turned the other way, “Sorry..”

“I-It’s fine, fuck, sorry I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.. but.. can I ask you a question?”

You nod, “Sure.”

“Why are you working there? You also model.. it can’t be to make extra cash, right? I mean your family is rich and—.”

You interrupt her, “I.. I know. My family’s rich and whatever but come on, there’s no way that my family, a family of politicians would ever want me to be a doctor. To them, being a doctor isn’t anywhere as good as being senator.. or governor..” you scoff.

“Fuck, sorrry..”

“Mhm.. so when I told my father that I wanted to be a doctor, he told me that I’d have to do it on my own since he didn’t see it as an ‘investment,” you fiddled with the hem of your skirt, “So that’s why I work two jobs and apply for all those scholarships..”

“I had no idea, Y/n.. that’s really something.”

You smile at her.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“Why the fuck does your name tag say ‘Mary Jan’,” she pointed at your name tag, the perplexed expression on her face eliciting a laugh out of you.

“Oh, that.. well, Darlene, er, my shift manager gave it to me like that. I guess Mary Jane was a waitress who worked there before me, she was a aspiring actor, apparently, she’s on broadway now.. so, I decided to keep it, hoping that her luck might rub off on me,” you giggled, “That and when I first started modelling, I had this creep stalker so I took on the name Mary Jane in hopes that it’d shake him off.”

Ellie laughs, “Makes sense.”

You nod and grab your duffel to head inside, “I’ll be right back.”

Inside the cafe’s restroom, you bury your face into your palms.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I can’t believe she saw me in this dorky uniform! I must look like a hotdog!

After putting on your normal clothes, you touched up your makeup and hair and made your way back out.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You ended up studying in the library late into the night. You had to pass this test coming up and you didn’t feel like seeing Ellie again. As much as you liked her, you couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated that she wasn’t affected by that night’s events… had she felt nothing?

You were too entranced in your thinking to realize that someone had sat right next to you at the bus stop.

“Hey, got a light?”

You rolled your eyes, prepared to fight off another disgusting man, “I don’t so why don’t you just—!” Your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes laid on the red and blue figure in front of you, “Fuck, sorry.. didn’t know it was you..”

Spidey laughed into his fist as he nudged you with his shoulder, “Why are you out here so late?”

“Ugh, I have this test in chem coming up so I had to study.”

“Really? Why didn’t you tell—.”

“What was that?”

“Uh.. why.. why didn’t you tell your teacher?”

You cocked your head to the side, “What?”

“Nothing!”

You chuckled, “Y’know, you remind me a lot of this girl I know. “

“R-Really?”

“Yeah, haha, you two are way too similar, so similar that I found myself wondering if you were the same person, “you giggled.

Ellie’s should left her body.

“Whaaaatttt, that’s crazyyyyy.”

You giggle, “I know, there’s no way you two are the same person.. I mean she’s way too awkward,” ouch, “she doesn’t look all that athletic,” damage: -20, “she also can’t really flirt,” i totally can.. just not without the mask, “Also, you’re a man and she’s a girl..” damn.

Spidey’ sighed, “Yeah.. I don’t know.. she sounds cool!”

You nod, a soft smile gracing your lips, “Yeah.. she’s ‘cool.’”

“Do you.. do you like her?”

You blush, “I don’t know.. maybe? Like, I like her, hell, we even made out but.. turns out that I was the only one affected by it.. she doesn’t even seem all that bothered or anything.. I don’t know, maybe I just played myself? I’m pretty sure that if I were the last girl on earth, she would still never go out with me..” you rub your eyes, “Argh, I don’t know.. she’s hot and cold, too hard to read.”

“Sorry..,” you hear Spidey mumble.

“At least I have you, hm? Good ol spidey, here to save the day.”

He looks at you, you wish you could peel his mask back to see what kind of face he was making, without thinking, your fingers lift up to his face. He notices and within the blink of an eye, he’s gone..

ELLIE’S POV:

“F-Fuck,” Ellie whispered, her hand on her chest to steady her breathing as she peaked around the ledge of a rooftop at you, still sitting and waiting for the buss, “That was too damn close, Ellie, what the fuck were you thinking? Shouldn’t be letting her get that close..”

Ellie felt guilty as she watched you all alone, you must be feeling pretty shitty right now, huh? I mean, not only has Ellie left you high and dry… but now, so has spidey..

Ellie lowered herself onto the ground, even though she left you down there all by yourself, she wasn’t gonna leave you vulnerable in New York City at night.. so might as well get comfy while we wait for your bus, right?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

taglist: @elliecoochieeater @wavesgocrash @g3latin @elliesflowersblog @usuck @elliessweetheart @miss-chananandler-bong @lvlymicha @prettywhnyoucry @g0d-wont-let-me-die @errorlovernotfound99 @thatgiraffefromtlou

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russellsppttemplates · 8 months ago

Text

You're a racewinner (Lando Norris)

The one where Lando won his first Formula One race

Note: english is not my first language. That race took years out of my life and all of the tears out of me, but I couldn't not do something for this moment ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to smut at the end, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Baby, can you come here and help me, please?", Lando called from the hotel bathroom, "I can't place this quite right".

Getting the plaster from your boyfriend's fingers, you fiddled with it a little before holding Lando's jaw so he could face you properly, "stay still,", you whispered, applying the sterile material on his nose cut with a tender touch.

"Thank you, lovie", Lando mumbled once you peeled both hands away from his face, pecking your lips, "couldn't help myself when I have your beautiful face so close to mine", he snickered.

Shaking your head at his capacity of turning you into mush, you pecked his nose gently, "are you going to play padel the whole afternoon?", you wondered.

"I'm not sure, I think so - we have dinner reservations downstairs though, Will, Mark and Oscar said they'd join us as well", he offered.

"Okay", you nodded, grabbing your laptop so you could get on with work at the desk in your room.

"Do you have a lot of work to do today, angel?", he asked, kissing your naked shoulder as he looked at the screen. For his life, he couldn't understand half of what you had written in there, let alone actually do any of the smart tasks you had in there.

"It's not too bad - it's the administrative boring stuff that I actually enjoy doing", you admitted. There wasn't much to it, and while your colleagues found it boring, you found comfort on the sequential and system like steps.

"I'm going then - call me if you need anything, okay?", he kissed the top of your head, "I love you".

"I love you too, Lan - enjoy yourself!", you kissed him back before he grabbed his things and left the room.

It certainly wasn't something you did for every race, but whenever it did, you'd fly in earlier with Lando and work remotely whenever he had his own duties and activities.

After King's Day, you and Lando flew over to Miami, the sunshine greeting you to contrast with the gloomy days you had back home. Warm weather always made you feel happier and you welcomed the golden hues on your skin after spending the first two days basking in eachother's presence by the pool and walks along the beach.

By the time Lando came back, he was met with you putting your laptop back into your backpack, "all done for today, beautiful?".

"Yes - for the week actually! There was a meeting that was cancelled and the other was pushed for next week, so I went ahead with the rest and it's all done!", you smiled, "I was about to shower when you texted saying that you were on your way back".

"You were waiting for me? Such a good girl", Lando whispered on your ear after wrapping his arms around your towell covered body, "let's go then", he pulled you with him.

After a shower filled with soft touches that were a thin line away from teasing, you both got ready for dinner, meeting the rest of the group at the restaurant.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?", Mark asked Lando once you were already enjoying your meal.

"What's tomorrow?", you questioned.

"I'm going the yoga class with Hilton - actually, you can come to that now that you don't have the meeting anymore", your boyfriend suggested, "you're a good... yoga practising person".

"That one on the beach? Am I allowed to go?", you asked. You wouldn't mind having a muscle stretching session.

"I'm sure they can put a mat down for you", Mark offered, "I'll text them about it".

"Lando will just get distracted by you and fall on his face - at least you can add to that plaster", Oscar joked before taking a sip of his water and earning himself a kick in the shin from your boyfriend.

"My girlfriend is actually quite good - I asked her to teach me some of this stuff because i didn't want to be too bad at it", Lando admitted, winking at you while he dusted the sand off of his fingers.

So far, the class was one of the funniest videos you've ever watched Lando record. He was really taking on the job and the part seriously, answering Alli with all of the lines you had told him about yesterday. Since you were sitting further at the back, you could giggle freely at his antics, stealing quick looks from eachother every chance you could.

"Look at this excellent form!", Alli complimented as she watched the rest of the class.

"She's talking about me, not you guys - me!", Lando chirped in as he stretched his arms up.

"Now this one is really good to stretch your hips", Ali added as she moved into a different position.

"Work on this one, lovie!", Lando shouted at you, "but be careful, okay?", he ensured as he looked to see if you were doing it well.

"I'm good, Lan, thank you!", you giggled, shaking your head before changing your feet position on the mat.

"Are you afraid of the sand?", Alli asked.

"I don't like the sand, no", Lando snickered, swatting the grains away from his hands, "Y/N will tell you all about it since she's always making fun of me because of it - she's lucky she's cute otherwise I might get mad", he argued half jokingly.

As the crew tidied the area, Lando crept up behind you, hugging your waist and pulling you to his chest, "did you like it, love?".

"It was nice, yes - my back and hips feel better actually", you smiled, resting your hands on top of his around your tummy.

"That's good", he placed a soft kiss on your neck, "how about we go and take advantage of that then?", he whispered.

"Lan, we're outside and we were doing yoga!", you scolded softly despite the goosebumps erupting on your skin. The warm Miami air didn't have anything to do with that reaction, so Lando knew you were just as bad as he was.

"We'll go to our room, of course - you look so good in these leggings and this top", he turned you around to face his chest, his hands grabbing a handful of your hips and butt, "I can tell you want it too", he smirked.

Playing coy, you fiddled with the string of his hoodie. How he was wearing it under this sun and warmth, you had no idea, but it would be a plus to touch and admire his body underneath it.

"You don't need to do anything else?", you asked. Despite your desire, you would never do anything that go between his work duties.

"No, I'm free for the rest of the day", he smiled.

As soon as you got the okay to leave and call it a day, Lando was a man on a mission to spoil you and let you lose yourselves in eachother.

Media day was usually the quietest day, but given the media and celebrity attention the paddock got for this Grand Prix, it was quite packed and action filled.

"Hello handsome", you greeted Lando once he came to meet you in the lounge for some lunch.

"I'm tired and I haven't done any racing yet", he muttered, "the social media team made me film this video which I think you'll like", he said, getting his phone from his pocket and showing it to you.

"Aren't we full of ourselves, hm? It's a video of your handsome face", you pointed out teasingly, kissing his cheek before watching it again.

"Are you saying you don't like it? If you didn't like it, you wouldn't have watched it again and again", Lando tickled, ending up having to hold your back so you wouldn't fall to the ground.

"You look very handsome, baby", you agreed with him, catching your breath as you sat on his lap.

"We also met Jimmy Butler and the team brought one of the trophies out - it was so cool, look!", he showed you on his phone, flickering through his gallery.

The first sprint qualifying session gave the team a 1-2, followed by Lando's pole position for the second session was applauded by everyone in the garage, "I'm not sure how it's going to be with the compound change though, but everyone else is also changing so we'll see", Mark observed.

The car seemed to skid away slightly, the grip level from the new tire not allowing Lando a smooth turn as you watched his on-board for the third and last qualifying session.

"I'm happy with everything, just not one thing", you heard Lando say in the post qualifying interviews.

You didn't get to see him before he went to the media pen, so you couldn't whisper sweet words to him before he went out there. Not that he would listen to them too much anyway. If there was something you learned over the years is that you should let him come to you, no matter how much you wanted to hold him in your arms.

He was always too hard on himself and it was no different after this qualifying. You waited around for him, chatting with some of the team members while you did so to pass the time.

"Lando!", you waved, calling him so he could notice you.

"I need to go to my driver's room", he offered his hand out for you to hold and follow him.

Once you were inside, you wrapped your arms around Lando's neck, kissing his neck multiple times and rubbing his back.

"I can't believe I did that? Not even a rookie would've done that shitshow, it's like I forgot how to drive", Lando muttered, shaking his head.

"Everyone struggled with the grip Lando, they were either eating up their tires or squiding away", you reasoned with him, "I don't think any of the guys thought they had a good lap".

"Mine surely wasn't", Lando scoffed.

"Hey, look at me", you said sternly, cupping his face in your hands to make sure he wasn't looking elsewhere.

You had to let him come to you, but that didn't mean you couldn't give him a piece of your mind first.

"You have been with this team since you were a kid, Lando, and everyone inside this hospitality is rooting for you, bad day or good day, everyone has your back, and as well as you don't win on your own, you don't lose or get a bad result on your own. Everyone out there is supporting you and no one thinks you're a failure or a bad driver", you stated.

You knew what was going on inside his head, Lando reasoned with himself - there was no point in lying to you or saying that he wasn't feeling like that when you could practically read him like a book.

"You're only as good as your last race, Y/N that's how this sport works", Lando offered.

"Then let's make this one count - the weekend has barely begun", you rubbed his cheek.

"I have to go to debrief", Lando mumbled, looking down before he pressed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, thank you", he whispered, squeezing your wrists before kissing them too.

"I love you too, all of you and everything that you do", you winked before he left his driver's room.

As soon as all of his duties were taken care of, you went back to the hotel, deciding to stay in for the night after a long shower.

"Come here so I can play with your hair and magically pull away all of those bad thoughts going on inside there", you smiled, finally sitting down on the bed.

Lando didn't want to seem needy or clingy, but every time you reached for the body moisturiser to scoop some of it out and rub it on your skin, he felt himself deflate a little, having to wait a little more to be able to touch you.

Crawling to your hold, your boyfriend rested his head on your chest as his arms circled your waist, feeling your fingers do as you had told him.

"Do you think tomorrow will be better?", he muttered.

"I don't know for sure, but I hope so", you answered honestly, "you deserve a good result tomorrow, you deserve all the good things, love", you added.

"I don't deserve you", he mumbled, looking up at you.

"You do, Lando", you kissed his forehead.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me", he stated, "whether I deserve you or not is another ballgame, but I hope you never leave me".

"It's not on my plans, no", you chuckled despite the seriousness of your words, "do you know what is though? Sleep, because tomorrow you have a big day", you kissed his lips, "go to sleep, baby".

"I love you, baby - sweet dreams", Lando whispered.

"They always are when you're here with me", you murmured.

"Fucking hell", you groaned, "is he staying out?", you wondered outloud.

The team radio with the veredict came in quickly, deciding that the risk they would be getting into by continuing the race and potentially worsening whatever damage the car had was not worth the points that would be up for grabs. Like so, they would retire the car, so Lando jumped out of the car and crossed the track.

"He shouldn't have done that", you muttered, noticing the other people around you looking at you curiously. Most of them were paddock guests who you had never seen before, so you excused yourself as politely as you could, waiting for Lando to come back from the pitwall and into the garage.

He exchanged a few words with the team before he approached you.

"I'm sorry it didn't go the way you wanted - do you want me to fight anyone?", you tried to get a smile out of him.

"Sometimes these things happen, there was nothing I could do", he kissed your forehead, "they're bringing the car back but it seems to have not been that bad - I was worried about the suspension damage but it doesn't look too bad from what they can see on the computer", he offered, "I need to go to the media pen, lovie".

"Go go, I'll be here if you need anything", you smiled, feeling him squeeze your hand in his before he found the team member he was supposed to go with.

A couple of hours later, race qualifying rolled around and despite P5 still being a good position, you could see that Lando was struggling a little bit and he would surely blame himself on his lack of skills.

"Is he coming straight here or the media pen?", Ria asked you.

"I'm not sure", you mumbled, looking around to check for any signs of where your boyfriend would be headed.

When Lando came back to the garage, you were the first person he looked for.

"Hello hello", he said, squeezing your hand once more before greeting the rest of the group.

"That was not bad, P5 means a lot is up for grabs still", you tried, not really sensing the mood he was in which was unusual for you.

"It felt better yesterday, we still have to check about the changes we made and decided what to keep and what to undo", Lando offered without a prominent emotion on his tone.

"I'll be here when you're back", you told him.

"I still have the debrief and I'm staying as long as I can", he stated, "you can go to the hotel if you want to".

"I'll wait here", you kissed his cheek before letting him go.

His mood wasn't the greatest, but it wasn't the worst you had ever seen it, so you had to make do for now. Getting your book from your bag, you went up to find yourself a spot in the lounge since Ria told you they would be going back to the hotel.

"Are you ready to go?", Lando announced his presence a couple of hours later, stepping closer to you with his backpack on his back already.

"Yes", you said, putting the book back and getting up, "What is that?", you wondered as you pointed to the envelope on his hand.

"A fine for crossing the track - twenty-five thousand euros because I got out on my own, and it's that little if I don't do anything else again", he shook his head, "do you want to have dinner out or in the room?".

"Whichever way you prefer, handsome", you replied earnestly.

"Are you doing it because you feel pity for me? Is that why you're that quiet and following my lead to whatever I say?", he mused, letting his insecurities get the best of him, "because I told you, it happens and I'm fine".

"It could never be out of pity when it is, always, out of love, Lando", you smiled, pecking his lips and heading to the car so you could make your way back to the hotel.

Lando woke up earlier than he expected considering how tired he had been, sensing your even breathing pattern next to him. His mind filled with strategies, outcomes and potential situations that could arise, so he definitely wasn't sleeping until nightime.

"Good morning", you surprised him as he didn't think you were awake yet, your eyes greeting him as he turned around to face you.

"Good morning, lovie", he smiled, getting your hand from under the pillow and kissing your knuckles, "you're awake already?".

"Couldn't sleep anymore - you?", you mused.

"Same - means we can have some morning snuggles", Lando offered as he pulled you closer to him.

"Do you want to talk about the race?", you mumbled after you kissed his lips.

"You know me too well, don't you?", he chuckled, kissing you again while he traced patterns on your waist.

"We've been dating for nearly seven years - it would be a little weird if I didn't", you pursed your lips jokingly.

"I don't know, I keep thinking about all the things that can go wrong and what I can do in that situation - P5 isn't bad but I'm not sure I can extract all of it", he sighed.

"You're too hard on yourself", you mused, "there hasn't been a challenge that you didn't want to face, you never backed down from it and it's not something you're going to start doing now, baby", you stated.

"Do you think I have it?", he mused. He wasn't sure what it meant, but right now he didn't know anything.

"Of course you do, it will come to you, my love", you tried to build his confidence up, "you're such an amazing, skilled driver, you climbed up the ladder on your merit, and your team is backing you up. With some work there, that podium can be yours, Lando".

"I don't know", he tsked still.

"Well, I do know, so you'll have to trust me", you moved under the sheets, supporting your torso on your hands so you could hover over Lando, "this one is for when you'll start doubting yourself", you kissed above his left eyebrow, "this one is in case you need a little push", you kissed his right eyebrow, "this here is for good luck", you kissed his forehead, "this one here is because you are the best driver out there", you kissed his nose, "this one is for how much you deserve to be on that podium", you kissed his cheek, letting your eyelashes tickle him, "This is for the amazing person that you are", you kissed his jaw, "And this one is for how much I love you and how proud I am of you", you landed a kiss on his lips, letting yours melt into his to show you just how much you meant all those words.

Lando felt loved unconditionally. There were no better words to describe what he felt. No matter what he delivered on track, you were always there for him. To congratulate him when things went well and to comfort him when he needed. It didn't matter if he was P1 or P20, your love and affection was a constant in his life.

"I never want to know what life is like without you by my side", Lando cupped your cheek, rubbing the skin.

"I'm not going anywhere", you promised.

You stayed in bed until the alarm rang, then getting ready to go to the track. Lando kissed your temple before he went to the debrief meeting, leaving you to grab a cool drink to deal with the Miami heat.

"I love you, be safe out there", you smiled, kissing over his left eyebrow.

"I could do with a little more luck", he admitted, blood rushing to his cheeks as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss his forehead like you had that morning in bed.

Lando continued getting ready while you occupied your spot on the garage, giving him a little wave before he went to the grid.

"He seems hopeful today", Mark nudged your shoulder as he sat next to you, "I don't suppose you have something to do with it", he smirked.

"What do you mean?", you wondered.

"Yesterday he wasn't exactly cheerful, but he walked into the debrief saying that today was a day full of opportunities", he clarified.

"Just helped him see the other side of the coin", you blushed at his assumption.

The race got off to a bumpy start, making you hiss as soon as you watched the cars get through unharmed, "that was a close call", you muttered.

Just as Lando had set the fastest lap, you watched Max go outside of the track slightly and hit the cone and later giving Oscar first place since he needed to pit, "the car pace looks good, doesn't it?", Jon told you.

"Oscar is coming to the pit and Max is right behind Lando", you muttered as you heard your boyfriend's radio and watched the mechanics get ready with the new tires for Oscar.

By lap thirty, still under the safety car, Lando was the one to pit and you couldn't help but do the math, "He's going to come out at the front, isn't he?", you looked at Jon and Mark, wanting to check your calculations right.

"Yes, look at him go", Jon pointed to the screen.

From then on, your heart beat as fast as it ever had, your eyes focusing on the gap between Lando and Max as your leg bounced up and down.

"Y/N, you should take it easy", Jon said, "you're going to work yourself up and it won't be good", he noticed. The way your eyes watched the race combined with the heat, your innate lack of water intake and the way your blood pressure seemed to be going, his worry was genuine.

"Mas just said on his radio that he's struggling with his car", Mark said as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Don't jinx it, don't jinx it", you whispered as you looked at everyone else around you.

Everyone shared the nerves you felt, everyone held on to see what was happening while keeping an eye on Oscar's brilliant drive after all that came his way.

"Should have dated an accountant", you mumbled before getting up, pacing around the small area once you made sure you weren't annoying people too much and not blocking anyone's view, "my heart wouldn't be like this", you took a deep breath as the last five laps warning came on the screen.

"Love how Oscar is the one with the fastest lap all the way down there - it's such a shame, he deserved more", you pointed out in an attempt of distracting yourself.

"Three laps!", someone yelled.

As you saw the rush to the checkered flag and your boyfriend's car be the first one to cross it, the garage and pitwall erupted in celebration.

"HE WON! HE WON! LANDO WON!", you yelled, crying into your hands after the initial shock wore off, Mark and Jon hugging you as they celebrated, "this is amazing? Aren't you amazed?", you yelled.

Lando's screams and laughs filled your ears as you listened closely to your boyfriend's first reactions after crossing the finish line on his first win, the pout being replaced with a massive grin even though you were still crying happy tears, "we did it, Will! We did it!", he boasted.

Once you were allowed, you joined the rest of the team and ran to Parc Fermé, stopping by Natalie once she spotted you for a quick hug.

"Will! Will! Will!", you called your boyfriend's race engineer once the team kindly let you go to the front, "Congratulations!", you hugged him, "I'm so happy!!", you squealed as he laughed.

Your phone rang with a FaceTime call coming from Max, "Hiiiii!", you beamed.

"Are you at the front?", he asked, "he did it, Y/N, he fucking did it! I'm going to add Adam here, just let me go here...", he tapped his screen until you noticed a new square forming on your phone.

"Hiii!", Adam and Cisca accepted the call quickly, "Y/N! Where are you now?", Cisca asked.

"I'm at the front here, slightly on the side!", you yelled as you showed them the number four car park in front of the number one plaque, "Look at him!", you squealed.

Lando was quick to get out safely, celebrating his first position and getting weighed in before taking his helmet off, leaving it on the ground and diving into the team who congratulated him enthusiastically.

"He's so happy and he has his big smile that makes his eyes crinkly!", you cheered as you stood next to Mark, making sure you didn't get shoved or pushed around too much.

"She and Lando are so cute, ugh, I can't deal with it", Pietra groaned.

"He's very lucky to have you, Y/N", Adam agreed before you saw Flo and Cisca.

"Lando No wins no more, hey? Y/N, have you seen him? He must be so ecstatic!", Flo offered.

"Stop it - I just passed by Natalie on my way here and she recalled the first time I watched a race from the garage when I was nineteen! Nineteen, might as well have been a baby! And I cried a little more, nearly choked because I had to run here and my breathing was ragged", you muttered, "I think the guys are putting him back down", you mused.

"Dude! Broken Rib time!", Zak yells once Lando was back on the floor, hugging your boyfriend before Andrea did the same.

"Now make room for the missus - she also gets to hug him all in one piece", the italian engineer encouraged while he helped you with the barrier.

Seeing Lando was enough to get your eyes to water again, not caring about hitting your phone on his back once he pulled you into his arms, nuzzling his face on your neck.

"I'm so proud of you, baby, you drove brilliantly out there", you let out, kissing his skin before cupping his face with both hands once Zak took your phone away from you, "you're a race winner, Lan, you're incredible and I love you so so so much", you told him before smashing your lips on his.

"Did the microphone pick that up?", Zak asked everyone on FaceTime after waving at them.

"It did - they're the cutest, I told you! I'm team Lando-Y/N until the end of time", Flo chuckled as she watched you and Lando look at eachother as if there was no one else around.

"I love you, babygirl", your boyfriend gave you a big smile, "this is for the team, for my family, my friends and for you! I love you, Y/N Y/L/N!", he said as he walked back with the FIA staff member that was guiding him to the cool down room.

Getting your phone back, the mechanics let you stand at the front with Will who gave you your phone back, "I'm back, the crybaby is back", you stated, wiping your cheeks.

"Mum is no better, Y/N, don't worry about that", Flo joked as you watched Cisca crying too.

"You and Lando are so cute, ugh, I can't deal with it", Pietra groaned.

At the podium celebrations, you grabbed a good spot to watch your boyfriend finally go on the highest step, accepting a hug from everyone who came to offer their congratulation on your boyfriend's achievement.

"You do know we are watching on TV, right?", Max wondered as you waited for the call for Lando to step on the podium.

"Of course I know - I'd feel bad for you if you were actually paying attention to what I've pointing the camera at -, I just need your company because I think I've cried all the tears I have in me and if you're not here with me, even if figuratively, I might fall apart again and that won't be good", you reasoned as you switched the camer around to show your face again.

Hearing the anthem and watching Lando raise his face up to the sun added magic to the serene moment until they sprayed the champagne between them, Lando saving some from his bottle to try and get the rest of the team too.

After all the media content was take care of, you and Lando headed back to the hotel ao you could get ready for dinner.

"You have a really big smile on your face, Y/N", Lando pointed out as you showered together.

"Look who's saying it", you blushed, grabbing his jaw so you could kiss him, "I'm so happy and so proud of you Lando, it doesn't fit inside my heart or my body what I'm feeling right now".

"I can't believe it still", he mused as his hands found themselves on your naked waist, "thank you for being here - today and every day you're with me", he joined your foreheads.

Dinner was lovely and you left to the party straight after, meeting up with Max once you were inside and in the reserved area. You danced all night along attached to your boyfriend who didn't seem to want to let you go, teeth nipping at the skin on your neck.

"Do you want another one, baby?", Lando asked and you shook your head no, kissing his lips.

"I'm good, Lan", you smiled, twirling him and kissing his lips.

"You two could stop fawning over eachtoher, you know? Y/N didn't rest until the whole paddock was informed of your win, as if they hadn't watched it happen and now this?", he chuckled playfully, "you two make me sick!".

"Can't help it if I'm proud of Lando!", you stuck your tongue out at him.

When you left the club to go back to the hotel, Lando walked with you on his arms with your back to his chest, allowing you to walk on your legs still but his rush setting the pace you were doing it with.

"Lando!", you squealed as you balanced yourself, holding on to his arms like your life depended on them "we're are we going?".

"I'm taking you to our room, put the no disturb sign outside and have my way with you in any way you allow me to", he smirked

"Our flight leaves in a couple of hours", you reasoned, a big smile on your face mirroring your boyfriend's.

"Then I'm going to take advantage of those hours we have left - I can't wait until we get home and what I want to do with you is not mile high club appropriate", he winked, "I'm a race winner, babygirl, and the celebrations are just getting started", your boyfriend said, tapping your butt once again.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you

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frail-and-freakish · 2 years ago

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today, april 11th, is the anniversary of Mel Baggs' death. Mel Baggs was one of the early founders of the neurodiversity movement and believed that no one was too disabled for human rights, something that modern nd movements fail to understand to this day. sie was so instrumental to my understanding of literally everything. sie died from medical ableism and neglect during the beginning of the pandemic. we would be nowhere fucking near where we are now without hir. i've decided to make a masterlist of some of my favorite posts of hirs, organized into different categories.

(some of these are listed in more than one category because they overlap so much)

here are some of the "essentials" (what you might have already read by hir/should read first):

hir memorial site hosted by ASAN:

In My Language

the oak manifesto

There is ableism at the heart of your oppression, no matter what your oppression might be

Getting The Truth Out (many pages, parody of bad autism awareness campaign called "getting the word out")

the meaning of self-advocacy

what makes institutions bad

aspie supremacy can kill

here are some of hir beautiful writings on perceiving/communicating with hir environment as an autistic person, and on communication in general:

up in the clouds and down in the valley: my richness and yours

distance underthought

the naked mechanisms of echolalia

empty mirrors and redwoods

the fireworks are interesting

hir tumblr tag #sensing (@withasmoothroundstone)

on personhood and who has the authority to take it away:

being an unperson

what it means to be real

empty mirrors and redwoods

on institutions and the I/DD service system:

caregiver abuse takes many forms

"i don't know that person's program"

what my home means to me

dd service system tag

god help the critic of the dawn: glamour and its fallout

what makes institutions bad

post on the JRC

outposts in our heads

on online social justice communities/their inaccessibility:

Your politics have a problem when they contradict the real-life experiences of the people they're supposed to be about.

politics, ethics and mental widgets

hir tumblr tags #outside the wall and #little packages (@withasmoothroundstone)

misc:

The Bones My Family Gave Me

Please violate only one stereotype at a time

My sort of people, just as real as theirs.

Reviving the concept of cousins

gender tag

this is hir poems and creative works:

this is hir writing on autistics.org:

may hir memory be a blessing/revolution.

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jessaerys · 19 days ago

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one thing i dislike about ao3 that i've been thinking about every time i browse FF.net is overtagging. nowadays the majority of fics tell you upfront the major plot points or are tagged in such a way that they are easy to infer, what sexual acts are going to happen and what may or may not be triggering and it's like. yeah i understand the many utilities of this system but they work at the expense of the joy of discovery. to this day i remember fics i read on ff.net with sudden major character death plot twists or surprise violence or sexual content that haunt me (in a good way) or influence my writing or made me realize i was into something weird because none of that was in the one liner summary. sorry to be old man yells at cloud but fandom culture today doesn't toughen you up like it used to

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so-long-soldier-writes · 10 months ago

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Anatomy Class

kai parker x reader

summary: kai + magic + boredom = trouble

tags: high school au, siphoning, magical fingering, masturbation (semi-public)

word count: 1.8k

a/n: i tagged this right next to my dad; you're both 18 in this!

“You have to promise to use this wisely and not get caught with it. Not in school, and certainly not at home,” you reiterate to Kai for maybe the third time in twenty minutes.

“I know, I know! Trust me, princess, I know the risks.”

“If it runs out, I can give you more, but if my parents suspect something’s up, they’ll find a way to contact yours.”

“But what if I run out before the day’s over and it’s just wasted? If I don’t use it, it drains.”

You sigh. “What are you suggesting?”

“I don’t know… can’t I just play with it a little? I can’t do that much damage during school hours. Worst I could do is make some kid trip over his shoelaces.”

“Kai!”

“I’m kidding! But seriously, Y/N…”

“Okay, I see your point. Do whatever you want with it, just don’t get caught.”

“And if I run out, you’ll give me more?” He hates to sound greedy, but he’s desperate.

“Of course. I can’t imagine what it’s like to not have permanent access, so as little as I use mine, I might as well give it to you.” He nods. “But again, be careful.”

“I will.”

“Okay. We’re coming up on the school now. Take my hand.”

He does, and then you nod to him to siphon. “Tell me when to stop.”

Your hands glow, but it doesn’t hurt. Kai says when he siphons his siblings, it hurts them. But you don’t feel any pain. If anything, your body warms with a tingly, pleasure-like feeling. After about thirty seconds, you start to feel a little dizzy though, and decide that’s a good time to cut him off.

“Stop.”

He drops your hand immediately. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No pain, just a little dizzy.”

“Okay,” he confirms. He’d hate to hurt the one person who’s ever given him any love and attention.

“How do you feel?”

Kai smiles as the magic runs through his veins. He lets out a small moan that settles in the pit of your stomach. “Good,” he finally answers. He then takes the pencil you’ve stuck behind your ear and makes it float in the air.

“Good,” you say, stopping for a moment to kiss the side of his face. You take your pencil back as the school comes into view. “See you in class?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you walk up to the doors together, then part ways for your first class.

You have third period together, but Kai sits all the way in the back, while you’re in the middle row. The teacher assigned the seats, and rudely placed his kids by favoritism: most engaged in the front; most uninterested in the back. Kai’s incredibly smart, but that comes to his disadvantage in school. Most of the lessons are boring; he passes them with flying colors and faces little challenge completing them. He finishes early, or already understands the material, and ends up tapping his foot or fingers during class. Mr. Peters interprets this as disrespect and boredom.

Today in class, you’re reviewing the different systems in the body. Yet another topic that Kai has practically memorized. The final exam is in three weeks, though with the material being as difficult as it is, Mr. Peters has decided to start studying early. The material isn’t too much of a challenge for you, though Kai still has you beat in that matter.

The man makes a list of topics on the chalkboard, then slowly goes down his list asking and answering questions about each one. He asks something and the class responds, but every so often, someone asks their own question, and he launches into a huge explanation for it. It’s during one of your classmate’s questions that you suddenly start to feel a heaviness in the bottom of your stomach.

Immediately, you put a hand to it. Your mind races to think of what could’ve caused it. You hadn’t eaten anything weird that day, nor have you had any aches or pains all week. In the middle of your train of thought, the feeling shifts lower. There’s a pressure traveling south. In the next moment, it feels like circles being rubbed down along your body. Intentional pressure. Kai.

Your brain provides the reason as soon as you recall your morning: you gave him magic.

“Do whatever you want with it,” you had told him.

Well, he sure is now.

Slowly, you turn to face him. His hands are hidden from sight, inside his desk, but the smile creeping on his face is unmistakable. He’s certainly messing with you.

Stop, you mouth to him.

The bastard only winks.

You turn back around and cross your legs over each other, squeezing them tight. There’s no freaking way he’s doing this in the middle of class.

The pressure suddenly increases. You can almost feel the pads of his fingers touching you - one on your clit, two brushing your folds. You bite your lip so hard it might bleed. Your hands are clenched into fists underneath the table.

“Kai, stop,” you think, hoping there’s even a point one percent chance he can read your mind. He doesn’t, though, and if anything, mimics dipping between your folds, feeling your walls.

“The organs involved in the endocrine system are- Y/N,” your teacher stops mid-sentence to look at you, “are you okay?!”

You release your fists, hoping to look less suspicious. “Yeah. I have a stomach ache. Do you- do you mind if I go to the restroom?”

Mr. Peters hurries to his desk for a hall pass. “Not at all. Go to the nurse if it doesn’t feel better in ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” You take it and hurry out the door.

You spare a glance at Kai on your way out. He smirks at you when you look at him, but then looks back at his hands, clearly focused. The feeling sharpens, and you dash out the door.

As soon as you reach the bathroom, you fling yourself against the wall in the nearest stall. You’re still biting your lip not to moan, but don’t fight the need that brings you to unbuckle your belt to relieve some of the built-up tension. Criminally, it seems Kai can still control you despite the distance. You can still feel his finger-pads petting your walls. The pressure is still on your clit, and it only grows by the minute.

“Fuck,” you mutter, feeling yourself getting close.

You drop two fingers to your clit, rubbing it yourself. Your knees almost buckle, and you have to push your toes against the edge of the toilet to not slip.

“Goddammit, Kai.” It’s a whisper, but you really hope no one else is in the bathroom right then.

You focus on the way he feels on you, as well as the added pressure you’re giving yourself. Within two minutes’ time, you come. It hits you hard. Your knees almost give out, despite the way you tried to hold yourself upright. Your chest heaves; the sensation sends pleasure throughout your whole body. Your vision gets spotty, and soon, your lip starts to bleed. It’s overwhelming in all the best ways.

After another few seconds, Kai seemingly retracts his fingers. You curse him the minute he does, remembering you’re in school, and you’re supposed to be studying in class right now.

The moment you get your bearings, you stumble to your feet and towards the sink. You wash your hands and grab onto the solid material to ground yourself; your brain is still swimming in post-high fuzzies.

“Fuck you, Kai,” you think, again telepathically, hoping he can hear you. If he can, you’d bet your life on the fact that he’s wearing his signature smirk.

When you finally recover, you make your way back to class. You offer Mr. Peters a half smile and report that most of it is gone. “Must’ve been something I ate this morning,” you lie.

He replies with his own smile and a nod, and goes back to teaching.

The moment you sit, you turn to see Kai, who is, in fact, smirking at you. You give him a playful roll of your eyes before turning back to the lesson.

Luckily, that’s his only shenanigan for the day. During lunch and your other classes together, he dares to act innocent. You would scold him for it during lunchtime, but Jo is sitting with you today, preventing that entirely.

The walk back to school provides the perfect timing.

“Malachai Parker,” you say in your best authoritative voice.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Did I do something wrong?! Did I do- you know what you did.”

“I don’t recall.”

“Third period. You and your magic fingers. You-”

“Oh,” he has the nerve to laugh, “that. Did you like that?”

“Did I like that?! Kai, during class?!”

“You said I could do whatever I wanted as long as I didn’t get caught. I didn’t get caught.”

You scoff. “I did not mean for you to do that!”

“But you liked it. What’d you do in the bathroom?”

“What?!”

“Why’d you go to the bathroom?”

“To hide the fact you were fingering me in class! What do you think I went for?!”

“Did you come?”

“Excuse me?”

“Simple question, princess.”

“I did not-”

“Don’t lie to me now.”

“Fine,” you bite your lip, “I did.”

He smiles. “Got you. Knew you liked it.”

“That was so inappropriate! I’d never think you’d be so bold. And when did you know when to stop? You did, like, ten seconds after I finished.”

He chuckles like it’s a game. “The last five times I’ve fingered you, it’s taken you five minutes on average to come. I watched on my watch; three minutes happened in class, two in the bathroom. I gave ten seconds to spare to either get you there if you needed extra time, or to ride you through it. Turns out, I’m pretty spot on.”

“Putting your brain to great use,” you mumble, “and my magic.”

Suddenly, he looks nervous. “You’re still gonna give it to me, right? I didn’t lose my chances to have it, did I? Because I can behave. Y/N, I promise. It won’t happen again.”

You change your attitude to match his. “Oh, baby, no. No, I’m not like that. Don’t you worry about stuff like that. I’m still gonna give you magic, even if you use it in questionable ways.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. But one condition.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Wait until actual study time, like in the library, to do it. Not in class. Unless we’re watching a movie.”

“Deal.”

“Good.”

“I love you, you little weasel.”

He scrunches his nose at the nickname. “I love you, too.” Then he chuckles. “I fingered you in class.”

“Kai!”

#this has been in my drafts for months #i'm on a new medication that's tanking my sex drive and i'm struggling to write smut lately #probably tmi but i have no filter with y'all #anyway #kai parker x reader #malachai parker x reader #tvd fanfiction #kai parker oneshot #kai parker smut #high school au #characters are over 18!

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luctus-flos · 4 months ago

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⠀⠀ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ꒰ ⠀luctus flos ⠀˖︵ ⠀150+ follower event ⠀ ♱ ₊‧

⠀ ⠀. ༉‧₊˚. ends . . . october 20th ୭ 𓂋 ˚. submissions to be entered under the tag: ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'#luctus f105' ໒꒱

Simulated Universe: You enter a room and find a person sitting at their desk, glancing over various copies of what seems to be the same paper. There is the distinct smell of wax melting, and you can see variously shaped stamps, seemingly customized per each person corresponding to the letter. Simulated Universe: The person pauses and lifts their head up when you enter, and offers a warm smile. "Good day," they greet, "I apologize for the rather messy interior. I would have properly cleaned had I expected someone today... though, these letters must be distributed soon. I do hope you understand." Simulated Universe: You choose to ask what the letters are for. The person glances at one of the letters, than back at you. "Ah... it's an event I am hosting," The person picks up an envelope, and offers it out to you. "The event is to celebrate the amount of patrons I have received in my short time of opening this shop. A list of challenges, all holding different rewards... I as well shall extend an invitation to you to join." Simulated Universe: The envelope is packaged with care, and the stamp shows a flower in the middle. The wax itself is green, but the flower's outline has been decorated with an ornate gold. At the kind invitation, your hand reaches out.

chapter⠀I ⠀⠀✧⠀about the event

‧₊˚౨ৎ you have been cordially invited to join the 150 follower event of luctus flos. this event shall span for 5 weeks, and shall contain titled prompts per each week, in which editors of all backgrounds are invited to use these titles as inspirations for their creations. all types of edits are allowed, ranging from layouts to moodboards, and all are welcome to partake in the event, so long as they do not involve any relation to subjects on luctus flos' do not interact list, listed in their rentry for more information. the event, of course, will contain prizes for those at the end of the path, varying from placements, which shall be decided based on points. I kindly wish to see you at the event.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ꒰ ⠀with warmest regards and love, ⠀ ♱ ₊‧

chapter⠀II ⠀⠀✧⠀rules for the event

‧₊˚౨ৎ I do hope you understand, patron, that all things in life have their rules. this event will be of no exception; the rules, however, are quite simple; so do not fret.

i.┊if you meet the criteria of the 'do not interact' section listed in my rentry, I will be forced to retract my invite to you. thank you, and have a good day if such a rule applies to you. this rule as well applies to the media used in the event; if the media comes from harmful intent, you shall be disqualified without second thought.

ii.┊all edits are allowed in this event; do not feel as if you cannot participate simply because of what you edit; I shall accept all entries equally. as well as that, flags will be accepted as part of the event's allowed entries.

iii.┊every graphic submitted as an entry to this event should be of new creation; remember, patron, you have the week to create something new and beautiful, so do not fret or rush, as late submissions shall be accepted for up to a week after the week's prompt has passed.

iv.┊though the graphics will be measured based on points, do not fret; these points are not handed out purely on personal decision. these points are distributed based on met requirements, which shall be explained below.

chapter⠀III ⠀⠀✧⠀the points system

‧₊˚౨ৎ participants will be ranked by points earned per each edit; with each prompt offering challenges to go along with the prompt, harder challenges offering more points. each entry into the event shall default to +10 points, and more points can be added for each challenge completed. do not fret; submissions without added challenges will be equally as valued as those with. the amount of points per challenge shall vary, and will be listed next to the prompt of the week, and will be entirely optional, though will offer a way to earn more points, which will of course, push you up the leaderboard towards greater prizes, which I shall list below.

⋆.˚ first place shall receive ⠀˖︵ ⠀⠀a personalized layout for any preferred site + a png divider of choice, along with a fully customized logo ༘ .˚ ⋆.˚ second place shall receive ⠀˖︵ ⠀⠀a personalized layout for any preferred site + a png divider of choice ༘ .˚ ⋆.˚ third place shall receive ⠀˖︵ ⠀⠀a personalized layout for any preferred site ༘ .˚

‧₊˚౨ৎ I do hope the prizes are of high enough quality for you, patron... and ah, I should specify- these prizes shall be personalized, and will not be posted for public use unless published only as a display image, and not as free to use graphics, in which I shall ask you for permission first to post the contents. I do hope you understand. and it seems now, with everything out of the way, I may speak of the prompts. they shall be posted weekly.

chapter⠀IV ⠀⠀✧⠀the prompts

‧₊˚౨ৎ each prompt shall correspond to a different week, and each will have an announcement post, which shall announce the beginning of the week, as well as the prompt's ideas. below, however, is a masterlist of all the prompts to come.

⋆𓊇ྀི ❛❛ week 1 . . . " a spring without you . " ❜❜ ₊⊹ entry + 10 points 𓆪ˊˎ˗

ৎ ˚⋅ optional challenges . . . ˖⋆࿐໋ ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic while also including the color green .ᐟ + 3 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic without the usage of typical shapes [ex; stars, circles, etc.] .ᐟ + 5 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic with who you believe is a commonly mischaracterized character .ᐟ + 7 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⋆𓊇ྀི ❛❛ week 2 . . . " under blaring stage lights . " ₊⊹ entry + 10 points ❜❜ 𓆪ˊˎ˗

ৎ ˚⋅ optional challenges . . . ˖⋆࿐໋ ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic while also including the color brown .ᐟ + 3 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic without using the color red .ᐟ + 5 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic with an actor character of some sort .ᐟ + 7 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⋆𓊇ྀི ❛❛ week 3 . . . " a taste of nostalgic soda . " ₊⊹ entry + 10 points ❜❜ 𓆪ˊˎ˗

ৎ ˚⋅ optional challenges . . . ˖⋆࿐໋ ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic while also including the color pink .ᐟ + 3 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic without using any type of lace in the edit .ᐟ + 5 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic with two characters who are no longer friends .ᐟ + 7 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⋆𓊇ྀི ❛❛ week 4 . . . " the sea of our shared dreams . " ₊⊹ entry + 10 points ❜❜ 𓆪ˊˎ˗

ৎ ˚⋅ optional challenges . . . ˖⋆࿐໋ ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic while also including two colors of choice .ᐟ + 3 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic without using any assortment of flowers .ᐟ + 5 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic using two characters who could be described as 'soulmates' .ᐟ + 7 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⋆𓊇ྀི ❛❛ week 5 . . . " the clock, eventually, strikes 12 . " ₊⊹ entry + 10 points ❜❜ 𓆪ˊˎ˗

ৎ ˚⋅ optional challenges . . . ˖⋆࿐໋ ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic while also including the color purple .ᐟ + 3 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic without using any type of tied bows .ᐟ + 5 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ° ʚ create this graphic using a character who has large ambitions and dreams .ᐟ + 7 points ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

chapter⠀V ⠀⠀✧⠀promotions

‧₊˚౨ৎ now that the rules have been laid out... I do hope you do not mind some tags to properly share this event around to people interested. if you are included in this tag list and wish to be removed, do feel free to inform me of such. may you have a good day, and to those joining my event, I do wish you the best of luck.

@frilliette @s-sanite @vvincian @sealody @ipcventurine @necroangelz @llocket @egoismn @apersonbutmad @ubelaces @saeriji @alanangel @moskalsbluntrotation @softlovr @fyodorhouse @unknown-till @n-arcette @rookmeo @greatgeneral @drblacula @kyubao @nomkiwi @inyuoka @lovesick-level-up @ethereabun @ic-n @fashlace @valenhrt @scr-be @yukiexpress @creepysp4ghetti @matchascent @versatilityyy @c-lumbina @pinkidol @dollrelicz

#luctus f105 #༒ ꒰ flos ┊ misc . ꒱ ⚰︎#editblr #editblr event #event #150 followers #tumblr event #editing #editing event #events

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many-but-one · 4 months ago

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I used to think I was endogenic and got hate for it. Then I became exactly like the people that bullied me. Thankfully, I’m not anymore.

So I’m gonna get on here and do one of my rare syscourse posts because I have been seeing an undeniable increase of hatred on my timeline simply because I follow the did/osdd tags.

Those of you that have been around a while and have seen our posts talking about this might recall this, but we used to be very firmly anti-endo. We consider ourselves endo neutral these days mainly because we just don’t care what other people do with their lives and it’s not up to me to fake claim them or tell them how to live their life. People like to be angry at endos for spreading misinfo, when I’ve seen anti-endos do the exact same thing. Quite often, actually.

One of the biggest reasons I was anti-endo was because I was angry. I was angry at the fact that people would claim they created their system for fun when my existence as a system was full of misery and pain. Fun fact, I’m still full of misery and pain, but I was taking it out on people I didn’t even know. I was angry that I didn’t get to choose this and they did. I was angry that they got to “have fun” with it while I suffered. I hated my disorder, I hated my system. I was so angry all the time. I went on rants. I was mean. I was full of hate.

Then as I went through the therapeutic process and learned to not only tolerate but actually love my system despite all of their faults and despite all of the ways the disorder made me miserable, I realized I cared a lot less about endos. It felt less like a slap in the face that they existed. I realized that me being angry was the root of why I disliked them so much. I realized that me being angry and hateful wasn’t actually helping anyone.

However, there’s something else I want to talk about. I’ve mentioned this vaguely from time to time, but I’ve never spoken that deeply about it.

I used to think I was endo. I joined system spaces online for the first time when I was about 16-17 years old. I was the host at that time (Jules, though they have fused with like a bazillion parts since then due to therapy so now I go by Delphine) and I was having experiences of a dissociative disorder. I was dissociative, I was having amnesia gaps, I was hearing voices in my head, and it was the first time I ever had a flashback (though I didn’t really understand that’s what it was at the time.) I met the first parts I ever spoke to directly back then, parts that don’t exist the same way today thanks to healing. S, A, and “The Bad Man” (father introject) were the first three parts that spoke to me. I knew by then I had DID. But I didn’t know my trauma. All I knew was that I may have witnessed some DV when I was really young (couldn’t remember it though, I just knew my mother was severely abused by my father) and that my dad was abusive to me as a teen. I didn’t even consider the fact that I couldn’t remember most of my childhood before the age of 10-11, and everything else in my life was spotty at best. I remembered a lot of my childhood! Or so I thought. I thought my childhood was completely fine except for my dad being a bit of a dick to me when I was a teenager.

So I thought I was endogenic. I knew that I hadn’t created these parts on purpose (though A stole her name from a fanfic I had read a few years prior so I thought that maybe I did make her up) so I thought maybe birth trauma had to do with it (I was born 9 weeks premature) or maybe I had formed my parts way later in life than normal since I’d always been a “late bloomer.” I tried making friends in the system community, to try and understand what was happening to me. I had genuine traumagenic DID, but I didn’t know it. As soon as I said I was endo to anyone I would be met with such extreme vitriol that I was chased away VERY quickly. I was told I was crazy, I was told I was faking a severe disorder for attention, I was told to kill myself, I was told that I am a terrible person and stealing resources from other systems, etc. It was really bad. I never spoke about it again. I deleted my entire system-related online presence. I believed I was a horrible faker, I was crazy, everything.

Meanwhile I was actively having nightmares of witnessing extreme child torture, I was having huge gaps in my memory, I was having random bouts of extreme suicidality and was self harming almost every day. I was dissociating off my ass, I barely even got through my junior year of high school. I missed so much school due to my mental health that the public school system almost took me to court to court-order me to go to school. I didn’t even try to talk about any of this to a therapist or counselor because I was certain that I had been faking the DID and that I was actually just crazy and I didn’t want to steal resources from “actual systems.” I had multiple suicide attempts. I didn’t get help until my school ordered me to go to the mental ward and then was assigned a therapist shortly after. Then I jumped from therapist to therapist, one of which said that I must be bipolar due to my mood swings. I was misdiagnosed as bipolar I for years. Years.

Years that I could have been trying to heal from DID taken from me because I was so heavily bullied for thinking I was endogenic. I was completely convinced I had bipolar and I must have just been having a psychotic episode every time I was hearing voices or acting strangely.

I was diagnosed with DID at age 22, just a month or so shy from my 23rd birthday. I went 6 years thinking I was crazy and delusional because of the system community. The worst part? I let my anger get to me and I became exactly like them. A little less intense, definitely didn’t tell people to kts or call them names or anything, but I was angry. Angry at the fact that I’d been a system all this time, angry that it had affected my life for so long, angry that endos “made a mockery” of what the disorder actually was. Then as mentioned previously, I was able to get over that anger. It makes me incredibly sad that I used to be so vitriolic and bitter and that could have seriously impacted a system who was in the same situation I was.

This is not to say that all endos are actually systems who don’t know their trauma. Some of them are genuinely endo, and I don’t really care about that. However, there is no person on the internet who can truly decipher whether or not an endo is a traumagenic system who just doesn’t know their trauma or who is non-traumagenic. I genuinely thought with my whole chest that I had no trauma and that whatever trauma I might have had was nowhere near serious enough to cause a system, so I must be endo, right?

*Loud, incorrect buzzer noise*

Turns out I have RAMCOA related traumas and my system is made up of thousands of parts. I didn’t just have trauma, I had Trauma. Years and years of extreme and extensive child torture were hidden so well that I couldn’t have even begun to guess that’s what my trauma history was, even after I was finally diagnosed. (Though I should’ve known with how intense our gatekeeper was about never telling me Anything)

Moral of the story here is this:

Please consider that the endos you speak badly about could be traumagenic systems. And you would never know. Behind the screen they could be showing clear signs of a dissociative disorder, but you wouldn’t know unless they specifically described such experiences—and nobody is entitled to hearing about other people’s personal experiences or struggles. I didn’t get the help nor the community I desperately needed back then, a teen who felt like their life was turned upside down and shaken about at all times.

Be kind. Stop hating other people for stuff like this. It matters so, so little in the grand scheme of things. These internet dramas are so chronically online that nobody in the irl world would even begin to comprehend it. It doesn’t matter as much as you think it does. But what does matter is how you treat others, because that sticks with people forever.

That’s all I’ve got. Thank you, everyone.

#don’t debate with me I don’t wanna hear it #I’ve never shared the full story of when I thought I was endo bc I was scared of the backlash #—> me realizing that I’m scared of the backlash now bc of the backlash I got then and I gotta be brave and say my piece anyway #people being mean will be blocked <3 #manybutone #personal post #syscourse #tw ramcoa #tw suicide #tw self harm #tw child abuse #tw torture

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split-spectrum · 3 months ago

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Water and Rock

Chapter 16/17

Pairings: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: angst

Description: There are only so many excuses a master and padawan can make to kiss under "extenuating circumstances" before circumstances stop arising and start being created. You are an expert at your craft - a Jedi knight in service as a spy for the Republic. When your former master Obi Wan joins you on a mission, it's clear things aren't the same as they once were. The trials you face together may break your bond, or turn it into something else entirely.

☆☆☆

Obi Wan wakes ten minutes before his alarm. As always.

He resets the chrono for tomorrow, silently eases from his bed, and prepares for morning meditations. Coruscant's sun won't rise for another hour. He prefers to meditate in the dark whenever possible, leaving the least opportunity for distraction. When he passes the mirror in the main living space of his quarters, only the shadows look back.

Settling himself into a seated position in the middle of his floor, Obi Wan's hands find their places at the tops of his knees without any guidance from him. His body fades into the background, making space for his mind.

He normally doesn't tend to use mantras, but today Obi Wan's mind is fixed on words from long ago.

"You must allow the Force to guide you, my apprentice. Never presume to know the path that lies ahead."

He turns them over and over in his head. He listens to them, inspects them, considers them, until the quiet hour has ended.

He's still picturing the day Qui Gon said them as he steps into the refresher, steam filling the air.

"To be a Jedi is trust in the Force, above all else."

"Yes, Master."

"Sometimes, the Force may lead us to unexpected places. But it will never lead us astray."

"I understand."

He'd received a kind smile. "Do you, Obi Wan?"

A tilt of Obi Wan's head. "Master?"

As Obi Wan finishes dressing and clips his lightsaber to his side, he wonders what Qui Gon would think of him now.

"One day, you may find yourself in a position to follow the wisdom of the Jedi order, or the will of the Force. And you must never confuse the two."

Obi Wan had done his best to maintain a neutral expression, despite yet another lesson in defying the council. "Are they not one and the same?"

He'd tried to hide his frustration when Qui Gon had given a sly smile. "Many believe so. But you are much wiser than that, my young apprentice."

Obi Wan grimaces, thinking back on his own arrogance. He'd always hated when his master had talked like that. It had seemed to him that he'd been speaking from a lack of respect. Maybe even a lack of discipline. But in truth, Qui Gon had been preparing him to understand not only that the council wasn't infallible, but that the Force didn't require him to be a perfect Jedi in order to be good.

He runs a hand through the running water of his sink, then flicks it through his hair, combing it back into place. If only he could ask his master whether the council was following the right path now.

As he looks into the mirror, though, he knows given the chance, he would only have one question to ask. And it wouldn't be about the council. It would be about you.

Since your return to Coruscant, you've been all he can think about. He'd known he would inevitably gravitate back to you.

No - not just since your return.

The truth had been buried inside him since Ilum. Even as he'd left you standing there in the snow, he'd felt it. He'd known it wouldn't be the last time. The burning ache he'd felt that day had been branded into his bones. It's a part of him, now.

But had it burned brighter than the revolutions of a thousand subjugated star systems throughout the galaxy? Did it ache deeper than the pain wracking through the Force from those who suffered and died at the hands of the Separatists?

He known the answer then. And he'd known the answer as he'd held you in his arms, breaking his own heart along with his sacred vows in this very temple.

And as he smooths the collar of his robe, sunlight beginning to spill through the edge of his window, Obi Wan knows the answer still. He knows it clearly. He knows it will not change.

"You may open your eyes."

The man you know as the brother calls you back from the abyss, and you return to him, emerging from deep meditation. The Force is thick, syrupy-sweet around you, and it softens his voice in your ears.

"You have made a strong connection with the Force. For the final step, you must remain open. Do not close yourself off; do not be afraid of what you feel."

Your answer stays at the tip of your tongue. You want to answer that Jedi do not fear. But you know better.

It's been a long night, drifting in and out of consciousness; of reality. You're exhausted in every sense of the word. He's pushed you to what you'd thought to be your limit, and surpassed it many times. And now, as the sun begins to crest over the temple, you sit at the feet of your guide, feeling like a padawan again, and letting his words penetrate you deeply, ready for whatever comes next.

Slowly, he reaches out and touches the pad of his finger to your forehead, between your eyebrows.

Instantly, you have the feeling of going over a steep drop, your stomach rising and your breath leaving you. Your chest flutters, then begins to heave, feeling full to the point of bursting. Your eyes fall closed again as you concentrate on keeping your connection to the Force open while the channel of energy seeps out of your chest and starts to fill the rest of your body.

You feel like a vessel that had never known it was empty. There are spaces inside you that you'd never known existed, and now they're awakening, burning, thrumming with life. It's at once liberating and terrifying. It's almost too much to bear.

You look back up at the man standing over you, watching with curious eyes. You want to beg him to ease your pain - to take some of this power from you before it overwhelms. But you know that's not how this works. Slowly, you start to come to grips with yourself, feeling the energy coursing through you in waves, and you manage to break the surface, controlling it more than it controls you.

"That's it. Good," he coos. "Tell me, how do you feel?"

"I..." You swallow. "I feel..." Struggling between keeping your focus and trying to find the right words, you catch your breath for a moment before you finally answer.

"Whole."

He grins broadly. "Yes. Now you see."

You nod, not really able to hear him clearly. But he's right. You do see. For the first time, you finally feel what has been promised to you all your life: You are at one with the Force.

"Our work here is complete. Now you may rest, and prepare yourself for the task ahead."

Coming back to yourself, you shake your head, looking at the ground. "No, I- I can't. I have work to do."

"Your work will soon come to an end, when you discover the identity of the Sith lord."

All at once, your mind is focused, sharpened to a single point. "A Sith lord?"

He nods once, tucking his arms behind his back. "He is the true danger to your master, and indeed to the Jedi themselves. And he will reveal himself soon enough."

Reeling, you still can't take it in. "How... how can I know that what you're saying is true?"

He raises one eyebrow, as if he'd expected the question, and suddenly before your waking eyes, a vision appears.

Obi Wan, bent backward, hand at his throat as a shimmering, hazy being presses a lightsaber down, down, down.

Obi Wan, choking on the fumes of molten lava, sweat pouring down his face as he fights off blow after blow, desperately trying to stay on his feet despite the raw power of his opponent.

Obi Wan, anguished, screaming into the darkness...

You pinch your brow, turning away as you watch tears fill his eyes. When you look back, the image is gone.

Somehow, you know that it isn't fabricated. Just like Utapau, you just know it's real. You felt it. And just like Utapau, it cannot be allowed to happen.

"Who is he?" you ask, all of your previously rampant, unrestrained power squeezed down, pressed inside yourself as you hold your breath for his reply.

His easy expression hardens, glowing red stare going cold and empty.

"That is not yet clear to me, my child. You must wait. We must both... have patience."

"Master Kenobi."

Ki-Adi-Mundi greets Obi Wan amicably as he takes his seat for the council meeting. Obi Wan bows his head slightly and begins to greet him back, but the conversation ends before it starts. Yoda's opening remarks are already beginning as the other masters quickly take their seats.

Meetings over the last few days have been short and urgent, but the immediacy suits Obi Wan just fine today. He has no desire to exchange pleasantries; his thoughts have been distracted by Anakin from the moment he'd seen him this morning.

Since his appointment to the council and subsequent dispute over his failure to attain the rank of master, Anakin's mood has seemed darker than ever. He's quiet, his expression is blank, and his eyes are hollow. Obi Wan fights the urge to bring the back of his hand to his lips and drag it along his mustache. He couldn't be more obvious about his concern for Anakin, and he doesn't need his nervous tic to set him off.

As the discussion goes on, Obi Wan feels a strange unease settle over him. Master Windu mentions that a speaker is needed to represent the Jedi for a special session of the senate. A request has been made to share the Jedi perspective on the Outer Rim sieges. Obi Wan tenses, though he doesn't know why.

"This is a voluntary duty. If you have any interest, please speak with Senator Bail Organa."

It's a simple task that could be delegated to any experienced Jedi Knight. But since the battlefront has expanded swiftly in recent months, it's unlikely any experienced knight can be spared, and likely that no one - master, knight or even padawan - will volunteer to step away from the fight for a series of speeches.

Yet, it's an opportunity to stay on Coruscant for at least the next few days, to stay close to Anakin and Palpatine, and possibly, to abide the only thing you've ever asked of him: To stay away from Utapau.

"I will go." Obi Wan finds himself speaking the words, as a surprised silence holds the council chambers suddenly still. "I will speak with Senator Organa this afternoon."

The holo-image of Master Yoda raises a brow and lets out a humph. "Feeling well, are you, young Obi Wan?"

Suppressing his unease, he lofts his chin and answers steadily, "There are several senators who have been hesitant in providing aid where it is needed, and I would like the chance to speak with them."

Anakin's eyes had been following each speaker looking somewhat detached, up until now. Obi Wan can feel the younger man's gaze sharpen, suddenly boring into him from across the room. He shifts a glance out the transparisteel window, then looks back at Yoda, avoiding Anakin altogether.

"Very well," Yoda acknowledges, bobbing his head just once, slowly. "To the senate, Master Kenobi will report. Concludes local assignments, this does. Now, young Skywalker, news to share, have you?"

Flicking his attention back to the rest of the room and finally away from Obi Wan, Anakin straightens up a bit. "Yes, Master. Chancellor Palpatine has informed me of a possible location for General Grievous."

Now it was Obi Wan's turn to look surprised. Why Palpatine would have such knowledge before the council was beyond his understanding.

Master Plo seems to share the same thought. "Our reports on Grievous's whereabouts have been vague and inconclusive. How has the chancellor come into this new information?"

"The port administrator of Pau City sent out a call for aid after his entire administration was taken hostage."

Master Mundi's bushy brows flare upward. "Palpatine thinks General Grievous is on Utapau?"

The sound of the word forms a fist that grabs Obi Wan's insides and twists.

"A partial message was intercepted in a diplomatic packet from the chairman of Utapau," Anakin explains.

A logical reason for Palpatine to have first access to the information. But Obi Wan can hardly focus on the reasoning for anything right now.

Grievous.

He'll be weak. Especially with the demise of Count Dooku. Obi Wan feels a sudden wellspring of hope despite the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He would never have committed to staying on Coruscant if he had known.

"Act on this we must," Yoda's glowing visage asserts. "The capture of General Grievous will end this war. Quickly and decisively, we should proceed."

"The chancellor has requested..." Anakin's eyes dip away briefly before he seems to brace himself. "...that I lead the campaign."

"The council will make up its own mind who is to go. Not the chancellor," Master Windu is quick to respond.

"A master is needed," Yoda affirms, "with more experience."

"I concur," Ki-Adi-Mundi adds. He almost glances in Obi Wan's direction but seems to remember himself, turning toward Mace instead. "Master Windu should go."

Mace nods solemnly, and Obi Wan nearly opens his mouth to respond. But to say what? To do what?

Is this the will of the Force? Or his own desires fighting it?

No - the question is more simple than that: Does he trust you?

The moment passes.

"I agree," comes the slightly tinny, electronic sound of Yoda's voice.

"Aye."

The response is unanimous.

"Very well," says Master Windu. "Council adjourned."

Obi Wan can feel the shroud of fate enclosing the room as Mace stands to leave, likely to prepare for his departure. But nothing is sealed, yet.

"Master Windu," Obi Wan calls after him, the older man turning back to meet him in the long hallway outside the council chambers. "Please; a moment."

Mace regards him with a look of urgency, and Obi Wan can't blame him. This is the final break in the war they may all have been waiting for. There isn't a moment to spare. He'll have to convince him that this is worth the time.

"I believe you may be headed into grave danger," he says, lowering his voice as they step off to the side. When Mace lifts his eyebrows, as if to say 'what gave it away?' Obi Wan presses his lips into a firm line, resetting his approach. "More danger than can usually be expected from Grievous."

Mace drops his sardonic expression. "What makes you say that?"

"My former padawan. She's been having visions of Utapau."

When Mace responds by saying your name questioningly, Obi Wan tries to ignore the way his heartbeat quickens at the sound of it, and simply nods. "Yes. She was not able to share many details with me, but the Force seemed to be warning quite strongly. I think you should speak with her before you go."

Releasing a deep sigh from his chest, Mace seems to consider it. But they have known each other well, for many years. He knows Mace can feel his insistence, and the trust he's built with the man throughout their long friendship prevails.

"If you believe it will make a difference, I will see the Commander after I ready my troops."

Breathing a little easier, Obi Wan gives a respectful, grateful nod. "Thank you, Master."

Mace returns his nod, clasping his hands at his waist and adding as he turns to leave. "Though I can imagine she might be busy." He slides a look to the chambers just as Anakin exits alone, his dark form stalking off in the opposite direction.

"I assume your old padawan is hard at work keeping surveillance on mine."

"Right," Obi Wan concedes, eyes following Anakin as well. "For this, I am sure she will find the time."

Your commlink chimes. A light flashes against the wall where it sits, out of reach.

You trade a look between your teacher and your commlink, and he gives a vaguely permissive tilt of his chin. You stand, pressing the button to answer.

"Did you know?" comes the immediate question, Obi Wan's voice strained. "Did you know who was... there, when you asked me not to go?"

His emphasis tells you what he's talking about, and reminds you that no recorded line is currently safe. So you keep your answer short and to the point, after a second's hesitation. "No."

As you turn back to face the man in your quarters, you see nothing. He's dissipated beyond your eyes and your senses. You're alone again.

"You're certain?"

"No," you answer more firmly, glad you can be honest with him, about this much, at least. There's a pause on the other end. "Obi Wan-"

"Is there anything at all that you aren't telling me about your visions?" he talks over you. "Were there any details you left out?"

Gripping the commlink, you find yourself leaning your body toward his voice. Despite the urgency of his question, hearing him helps you ground yourself. Refocusing, you concentrate on his questions. You desperately want to ask him who it is that's caused this sudden renewal of interest, but you know he can't give you a name at the moment.

"Why are you asking me this now?"

"Please, answer me."

You exhale, your pulse suddenly quickening. "Are you planning to go there?"

You can sense his frustration with you. He pauses again before giving in. "Not me. Master Windu. He plans to leave... very soon." A beat, as he presumably holds back further details. "But before he goes, I asked him to speak with you. Anything you can share might make a difference."

"I... see," you reply, carefully keeping the relief out of your voice.

"So, if there is anything you can remember, no matter how insignificant it might have seemed, you must tell him. Do you understand?"

"Yes." A sickly sweet feeling of alleviation, almost elation, flutters through your chest. "Yes, of course."

Someone is about to die on Utapau. And with your help, it won't be Obi Wan.

"I promise."

Before you had even ended your conversation with Obi Wan, there had been a knock at your door.

Your discussion with Master Windu had been short. You'd told him what you'd needed to.

And now, all that's left is to try and forget about it.

You try to forget the way he'd smiled at you, brown eyes soft and holding more hope than you'd seen in a long time.

You try not to think about the lightness in his step as he'd left your quarters, possibly for the last time.

Mace Windu's face as he'd thanked you for your guidance is only a distraction, now, and you need to put it out of your mind.

Besides, it's not hard to shift your guilt. You're in the midst of betraying another friend's trust at the moment, as you press a button to activate the sound on a live feed of a dingy little storage unit on one of the lower levels.

You'd snuck down there shortly after leaving the temple the previous day, knowing immediately that Anakin's speeder would provide one of the best locations for unfiltered information.

It had made you sick, punching in the code that you wish you hadn't memorized to a rusted-out keypad and invading what he'd probably believed to be his last private sanctuary. You shift in your seat, testing the sound quality of the feed as you remind yourself that this is all in an effort to prove Anakin's innocence. He'll understand when you tell him. Someday.

You refresh the connection to a few other feeds strategically placed in Anakin's ship and personal quarters. Normally, for a target with a possibility of multiple conspirators, you would use cams, too. A visual feed could be critical in identifying suspects.

But Anakin isn't just any target. He isn't one of the scheming Separatist traitors you're used to tracking, and putting cams in his personal quarters is a violation you aren't willing to commit. Not yet. Not unless absolutely necessary.

You check your commlink for the fifth time in as many minutes. It's not quite showtime yet. Anakin had spent the remainder of his morning in one of the tactical planning rooms with Rex, monitored at all times, and had met his master directly afterward, to see him off. Mace will be notifying you once they go their separate ways. For now, cycling your feeds is the only thing to do.

That, and wonder when - or if - your visitor from last night will return.

A new knock at your door almost makes you jump, pulling your thoughts to the present. You silence your equipment, dimming the screens to black and pulling a compartment built into the desk closed. Cautiously, you answer the door, making sure to keep it cracked only enough to see you, and not enough to seem like an invitation to come inside.

"I thought we might have some time to talk."

Obi Wan stands on the other side.

Your hand releases its grip on the door, letting it open. When the door closes, you turn to face him. You should have been expecting this. After all, he'd told you that you'd talk as soon as time allowed. You just hadn't wholly believed it.

"You kept your promise."

You don't know why your voice holds a slight note of bitterness. Perhaps you're still struggling to control your emotions, trying to get used to your new relationship with the Force. Perhaps it's just lack of sleep. But he gives you a curious look, then smiles faintly. "I always do. Even the ones I've promised not to make."

You bring your eyes up to his. "That's true."

"But I would still like to know why."

You glance down, taking a few steps away to unlock the compartment again and take your equipment back out. You should have known better. That's why he's here; he wants information.

"What do you mean?" you ask, sitting down.

He crosses room to look into your eyes. "Master Windu stopped by to speak with you, did he not?"

You nod along with the question, not willing to bridge the gap and give him more detail than he asks for.

"Then I imagine he told you the significance of Utapau. That General Grievous is rumored to be there?"

Your chest tightens. "Yes, he told me. I shared with him everything that I could. Which wasn't much, unfortunately."

"Is there anything you can tell me that you already haven't?"

You take in a breath, pretending to mull it over despite already knowing the answer you'll give. Then you shake your head. "Not really. The only thing I can say is that the same feeling doesn't seem to apply with anyone but you."

"The same feeling? What feeling?"

"Of... failure," you lie, steeling your nerves as he stares down at you. It wasn't failure you'd felt. It was death.

"And with Mace, this sense of failure is not there?"

"No," you lie, to protect him.

"You're certain there's nothing more you can tell me?"

"I'm sorry," you lie, putting out of your mind the dozens of details you could easily share. Location, weapon, angle of attack...

"No. There's nothing. I wish there was more."

His shoulders drop as he regards you a moment longer before sinking down onto the edge of your bed. He drags a hand down his face. You don't remember ever seeing him look so tired.

"I'm sorry," you say, catching yourself sounding more sincere this time.

His eyes soften, the dull ache behind them subdued while he looks at you. "No, don't be. You've done nothing wrong."

He seems to think for a moment, gazing through you.

When he doesn't speak again, you turn back to the screens in front of you and re-activate them. To fill the silence, you mumble, "Everything is in place, now. For Anakin, I mean. Audio recorders practically everywhere he goes."

Obi Wan blinks, as if coming back to the present. "'Practically'? You didn't place one on his person?"

You shake your head. "Too risky. In his robes, it could be left behind. His clothing changes. And in his lightsaber, I'm sure he would find it. I don't know how, but I just feel he would... know."

Obi Wan nods. "Yes, you're right. So where did you place them?"

"His ship and his personal quarters, of course. The chancellor's office. And..." You trail off suddenly, realizing you'd almost let it slip.

He tilts his head, reading you carefully. Then his eyes seem to sparkle when it occurs to him what you're holding back. "And his speeder?"

For an instant, you're speechless. Then you remember who you're dealing with, and wonder why you ever doubted that he would know. You give in, a smirk surprising you by easing its way out. "He said he never told you."

Obi Wan lifts his eyebrows. "Some time ago, I heard engines in the background of one of his calls. I thought he might have returned to the underground racing circuit again, and I followed him down to the storage levels. When I saw that he was only working on a speeder and not some... customized monstrosity, I decided to leave well enough alone."

Your smirk turns into a smile, thinking back to Anakin's younger days of sneaking off to the races, much to Obi Wan's dismay. You'd both agreed never to tell Anakin's master, so long as he never went there again. You had your suspicions that he'd never been caught there again, but he'd probably never really stopped until the war started monopolizing his free time.

"Well, you're right," you admit. "I have a tracker there, too. So now, it's just waiting. He's with Mace at the moment, but it shouldn't be much longer."

Obi Wan nods, watching your smile fade. He leans forward. "You are right to do this, you know."

Again, the tightness in your chest returns. You stare at him, not quite sure how to respond.

"The situation is..." He glances away. "Complicated."

You read his real meaning: The council is wrong.

"But," he continues, "you are the right person for this job. If someone must be responsible for finding the truth, as well as protecting Anakin, I am very glad it's you."

With the last of his words, he leans over and places his hand on your knee. In spite of the heaviness of the moment, you feel like you're glowing. But you can't bring yourself to reach out and touch his hand back. As much as you want to, it doesn't feel like something you deserve.

Obi Wan clears his throat, gently pulling back to stand up. You're both quiet - not because you don't want to speak, but because there is too much to say.

After a moment, he starts to gaze around the room, taking in your simple decor, and it occurs to you that this is the first time he's set foot in your quarters in years. The same thought seems to be playing over his features as he slides his palm along the top of the dresser near your bed.

"Do you remember moving that in here?" you ask.

He doesn't exactly smile, but his gaze lightens. "Remember? How could I forget?"

The dresser is far too large and takes up more space in the room than is practical. It had held all your toys as a youngling, and when you became a padawan it contained all your most precious belongings - clothing, books, and even a few pieces of jewelry. Your dresser had been one of the only constant items to follow you into adulthood.

When you'd moved out of your padawan's quarters to join the rest of the knights, you'd found your new quarters much smaller. Seeing how much it meant to you, your master had spent an afternoon disassembling the dresser and piecing it together in your new room. He'd helped you shuffle it into the corner where it sits now, resulting in no small number of bumps and bruises along the way. You might have used the Force to slide it into place, but the risk of damage to the dresser outweighed the benefit of protecting your shins.

"I walked with a limp for a week, as I recall."

With a tilt of your head, you smile. "Only because you wouldn't listen to my instructions."

"I shouldn't have allowed it in the first place. Jedi Knights are meant to use standard-issue furnishings."

You step beside him, crossing your arms and looking down at the dresser as well. "I'm grateful you did. It made me feel at home, when everything else had changed so suddenly."

"Perhaps feeling at home wasn't what you needed," he says, still staring down. "Perhaps it would have been better to teach you a lesson in attachment."

He looks so serious that you're suddenly overcome with the idea of cupping his face in your palm and kissing him. Instead, you just tell him quietly, "You were never such a cruel master as to teach me lessons I wasn't ready to learn."

He turns to look at you, but says nothing.

"You knew how to teach me, and met me where I was. I always appreciated that. And I think it was why you succeeded where others had failed me."

Your words don't seem to cheer him up. In fact, they seem to have the opposite effect. His eyes are so full of sorrow he looks ready to collapse where he stands.

"Obi Wan," you ask, worry starting to set in. "What is it?"

He seems to consider a long time before answering. Then, it's as if you can see a decision being made.

"If Master Windu succeeds," he begins slowly, "If Grievous is captured, the war could end in a matter of days."

It's a possibility that up until now, you've hardly let yourself conceptualize. But his words make it seem closer to the truth than ever before.

"There will still be much work to do, of course. But the transition to peace could be handled largely by the clones, once an agreement is reached. And the Jedi would no longer be an integral part of the military."

You nod, following his logic but unsure as to where he might be going.

"Yesterday, I came to realize something: I had been thinking of myself as two beings: One who walked the path of the Jedi, and one who..."

He trails off, staring intently at you, gaze steeped in emotion. You try to read him, but you can't. There is no opposite you can imagine to finish his sentence.

"One who longed to know another path."

Your breath stops. This can't be real.

"I had thought I could leave that part of me on Ilum, until... what happened between us yesterday showed me how wrong I was."

You swallow, shame fighting to burn as hot through your blood as the euphoria of hearing his confession.

"Yet, in a war, it made no difference. The right thing to do would be to-" He falters. Then he clears his throat and the words come out slowly and evenly. "To leave the Order. But I could not. Not when so many suffered."

"I..." Your voice cracks as you try to piece together what he's really saying. "I don't know what you're trying to tell me. You're leaving the Order?"

"The longer I stay, the more irresponsible it becomes to keep these secrets. If the fighting ends, I will tell the council I am no longer fit to serve."

There's a high-toned echo reverberating in your ears, as if you're crawling out from the rubble of a bomb being dropped.

"And- and go where? And do what?"

"I don't know," he admits. "I don't know what comes next. But there is a place on Saleucami - a small farm. I've always thought it was rather well-priced. I would not be disturbed, and could try to reconnect with the Force in peace."

You're quiet for a long beat. You don't want to ask the question, for a myriad of reasons. But you have to.

"Would I ever see you again?"

He smiles, very faintly. "If I am to find out what sort of Jedi I am, I must no longer turn away from these feelings. You would be most welcome to see me whenever you like."

Your heart seizes, pierced with a sudden joy so deep, so impossible, that it's painful.

He would welcome you. You could forge a new path, together, and away from everything that had ever kept you apart.

He's holding you gently in his gaze, waiting for you to respond, and you can only whisper, "And... when I come to see you..."

You close the distance between your bodies, trading shimmering glances between his beautiful, sorrow-filled eyes, his warm breath drawing you in.

"...yes?" he asks softly, encouraging you. It's half a question, half an invitation.

You brush your lips over his, feeling him open up and lean to the side. His mouth pushes back, his hand sliding up your cheek to rest behind your ear, his thumb at your cheekbone.

In the kiss, you can feel everything. The past and the future. The years spent at his side. The longing, heartbreak, and uncertainty. Disagreements, distance, and every other obstacle that had been placed between you. The thought of a life together. Warm sunrises spent in his arms. Time that's no longer stolen, but yours for the keeping.

When the kiss ends, you're left staring at him, breathless with unbridled happiness.

"If I were to-" you begin, about to spill everything - to tell him that without the war as an obligation, you would have left the order long ago. You want to tell him that if he invites you to visit, you'll never leave his side again.

But low voices begin to fill the room, and reality crashes down on you, forcing you to remember that everything is, right now, still hypothetical.

There is no certainty the war will end tomorrow. The only thing that is certain is that the war is still very real, today.

As Anakin's muffled voice comes through the recorder, you close your eyes, pulling back from Obi Wan's touch and exhaling through your nose. You still have your parts to play. For now, there's nothing more to talk about.

Obi Wan gives you the space to step away, blinking down at the floor and back up again, mask firmly in place once more as you pull up the screen to see which feed is active.

Glancing down at your commlink, you see that Mace had sent you a message several minutes ago. You hadn't even heard it. Anakin left the temple a long time ago.

You check the active feed. It's his speeder, and there is a softer, lighter voice joining his.

"Ani, it's perfect. But, you realize we already have mine? We have all the transportation we'll ever need, and in Naboo we'll have my parents-"

"On Naboo you'll have everything," Anakin interrupts. You turn your head for Obi Wan's reaction. He doesn't give one.

You've both gone stiff, frozen in place. It's one thing to suspect, but another to confirm with your own ears: Anakin is with Padmé. And within the simple exchange, it's already blatantly clear this is not a professional consultation.

It's surprising, certainly, but not a complete shock to either of you. Anakin's feelings toward the senator have been clear to both of you for a long time, and Obi Wan has told you Padmé hasn't seemed to rebuff his interest since their capture on Geonosis. But a bit of flirtation is one thing; a clandestine meeting is another.

"You've made it clear how much you'll have," Anakin goes on, "but this - this is from me. It's something I wanted to do for you. For us."

There's a short silence, and the sound of shuffling. Your breath goes shallow; tight. They're probably kissing.

"You do enough for me. I don't need things," she tells him. "I just want you."

There it is: undeniable. You chew the inside of your lip, tense and uncomfortable.

Anakin's response is soft, yet insistent. "Let me take you for a ride."

You can hear the smile in Padmé's voice. "Do you think it's safe? You know..."

The lilt at the end of her question is odd. So is her question, really. You've never known her to show fear of anything.

"Of course," Anakin answers, and you hear the closing of doors signaling that they're getting in. "Don't worry, I'll go slow." Another strange thing for him to say. Perhaps this is him flirting. "We can't go very far anyway. I have a meeting with the chancellor in an hour."

"I can't be long either," Padmé says over the whir of the engines. "I'm still in the middle of drawing up that document. I promised to have it finished by the end of the day."

Anakin makes an annoyed sound. "And I suppose that means you're having another 'working dinner' this evening?"

"Ani-"

"You promised me that you would take it easy. You should be resting."

"I feel fine, Anakin. You shouldn't worry so much."

Is she sick?

"It's my place to worry," he insists. "And it's your place to do as I ask."

She's quiet for a moment. You want to throw a glance at Obi Wan, but you don't want to compound your concern along with his, yet.

Padmé replies quietly, with a forced lightness in her tone that's almost apologetic. "You don't need to be so protective of me, Ani. I can rest when we leave for Naboo, and the baby and I will have all the help we need back home. I promise."

It hits you like a punch in the stomach. Obi Wan is absolutely silent, his jaw rigid. A permanent false picture of control is plastered over his features. You can't even begin to imagine what he's feeling beneath it.

"Obi Wan, it's-"

"Don't," he bites, the low word hanging between you. "I don't wish to discuss it."

He knows you too well. You can feel the anger and sadness rolling off of him within the Force, knowing he's contained as much of it as he can. He knows you would have tried to help him understand Anakin's position, comparing it to your own mistakes. But this is different. Decision after decision had to be made to place Anakin here. This is not impulse. It's a choice. A dangerous, foolish, and deliberate choice to which he's repeatedly committed himself.

You listen to the rest of their conversation, and soon Anakin drops Padmé back off at her apartment. There's a length of time where Anakin is on his own again, dropping off the speeder and returning to his ship, presumably heading for his meeting with Palpatine. During the interim, one of your screens lights up with a message from the council - Master Windu has located Grievous. The fighting on Utapau has begun. You squirm in your seat.

When Anakin enters the chancellor's chambers, Obi Wan's blue stare is fixated on the screen as you both listen. You can feel how tense he is. He's waiting for the very instant the meeting ends.

"Chancellor," Anakin greets. "We've just received a report from General Windu. He has engaged General Grievous."

"I only hope Master Windu is up to the challenge," Palpatine answers readily, the timbre of his voice as withholding as ever.

"I should be there with him," responds Anakin, quietly. It's an inappropriate comment for him to make, but he knows that. He said it not with the tone of a General speaking to high office, but as someone confiding in a friend.

"It's upsetting to me, to see that the council doesn't fully appreciate your talents. Don't you wonder why they won't make you a Jedi master?"

Your pulse quickens. It's long been suspected that the chancellor encourages Anakin's disagreements with the council. You hold your breath for Anakin to correct him.

"I wish I knew. More and more, I get the feeling that I'm being excluded from the council."

Your heart sinks, and you can see the sting on Obi Wan's face, though he tries to remain impassive, listening intently. Anakin goes on, adding fuel to the kindling Palpatine has given him. "I know that there are things about the Force that they're not telling me."

"They don't trust you, Anakin. They see your future. They know that your power will be too strong to control."

You're deadly silent, briefly checking that the recording is being stored as you turn up the volume.

"You must break through the fog of lies the Jedi have created around you. Let me help you to know the subtleties of the Force."

Eyes wide, you turn to Obi Wan.

"How do you know the ways of the Force?" Anakin retorts, sounding as stunned as you feel.

"My mentor taught me everything about the Force. Even the nature of the dark side."

A sick chill runs through your bones, and suddenly your stomach is halfway up your throat.

"You know the dark side?"

"Anakin, if one is to understand a great mystery, one must study all its aspects. Not just the dogmatic, narrow view of the Jedi. If you wish to become a complete and wise leader you must embrace... a larger view of the Force," Palpatine explains, ever the benevolent leader; ever the kindhearted guide. "Be careful of the Jedi, Anakin. Only through me can you achieve a power greater than any Jedi. Learn to know the dark side of the Force, and you will be able to save your wife from certain death."

"What did you say?"

"Use my knowledge. I beg you."

The sound of a lightsaber exploding to life. "You're the Sith lord."

Obi Wan is running for the door, closing the distance in two bounding strides.

"Wait!" you call after him.

"I've heard enough. Send a message to the rest of the council and tell them where to find me."

"I'm coming with you."

"No," is his reply, as he throws the door open. "Do as I say. Anakin and I will handle this. He's too powerful for you."

"I can help," you insist, almost begging. This is what you trained for. He doesn't understand how powerful you've become. He doesn't know that it was all for this; leading to this moment.

"You can help by making sure that recording goes on file in the records department immediately, and by remaining safe inside the temple."

There's a pause as Palpatine's low voice interrupts, freezing you both where you stand.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asks.

Anakin's blade hums. "I would certainly like to."

You and Obi Wan stare at one another, all your concentration fixed on the tiniest of decibels coming through the recorder.

"I know you would. I can feel your anger. It gives you focus. Makes you stronger."

The galaxy stands on a knife's edge.

The blade extinguishes.

"I'm going to turn you over to the council."

Obi Wan's robe snaps in the rushing air.

"Stay here," he calls over his shoulder, sprinting directly into the maw of fate.

You don't bother to close the door after him. Already transferring the recording to the archives, you're dashing out a few moments later.

A/N: The final chapter and epilogue will be posted tomorrow! Sorry for any confusion - this turned out much longer than expected!

Tag List: @cosmicsierra @projectdreamwalker @guacam011y @thriving-n-jiving @reverieisaway @cursedfaechild @honeymoon7770 @hedvighedvig @cool-ontherun-world @ladytano420 @eddythewitch @immajustvibehere @thegreatwicked @marrily @millercontracting @littleredwolf @b0xerdancer-writes

#obi wan x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #water and rock #obiwan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader

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draftsandrecs · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader finds herself crushing on her sister’s ex boyfriend after they run in to each other years after the break up.

Word Count: 4,670

Warnings: 18+, smut, no condoms, dirty talk

Taglist: @jbbarnes-dog-tags

‘And substitute regular milk for oat milk please.’

You type a quick ‘okay’ to your sister as you head to the coffee shop that you frequent almost every day. Today’s weather is sort of gloomy but nice. Lately it’s been rainy, mild showers and light thunderstorms. Your favorite kind of weather to have a latte while accompanied with a book. You scrub the bottom of your shoes against the coffee’s welcome mat to prevent tracking in mud or leaves.

“Good morning, welcome to Aristocrats!” You thank the familiar barista as you head to the counter pulling out your phone to order both drinks.

“What can I get you?” The barista asks with a smile on their face.

“Can I get a hot vanilla latte with 2 shots of espresso and oatmilk?” The employee mumbles the order back as they input it into the system as you continue.

“I also would like an iced chai latte with 3 pumps of brown sugar syrup instead of vanilla. As well as one shot of espresso, thank you.” You put your phone away as you get your wallet out from your bag.

“$15.28, cash or card?” The barista asks as you hand them your card to swipe.

You find a few dollar bills stashed in your bag as you drop it into the tip jar.

“Thank you, just give us a few minutes.” Handing you the card back you put it back into its usual spot as you crumble the receipt into the bag.

One of the reasons why you love this coffee shop isn’t just for the drinks but the book collection they have along with the scenery. It’s located downtown with windows that face the street that pour in natural light. The owner kept most of its natural architecture. Which included the layout, windows that surround the building on two walls, as well as the little fireplace that runs on cold days.

As you wait for the drinks you browse a few magazines near a table before you find one that peaks your interest. You situate yourself near a bar in front of the front facing windows to take advantage of the light that projects in. You flip through the first couple pages not caring for the luxurious ads of Gucci or Louis Vuitton. You never understood why anyone would spend thousands on a bag. You ignore the bell above the door that signals a customer as you continue reading about a woman’s divorce and her advice. While you have never been married it’s interesting to read about people’s lives.

“Here you go, hot vanilla latte and an iced chai.” The barista sets the drinks down as you reply with a thank you.

You look towards the counter as you spot a man ordering. Something along the lines of an americano. Typical. Men never go for good drinks. Reaching for your drink you realize you forgot a straw. Getting up you head to the side of the counter to grab one. As you begin to reach for one another, one hand is trying to grab a cocktail straw for their drink.You quickly retreat your hand back apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You say, embarrassed as if you were in his space.

“No troubles, you’re fine.” You turn to him finally getting a good look at him as he does the same.

“Oh shit, hey kid. How’ve you been?” It’s Bucky, your sister's ex-boyfriend. His eyes light up as he smiles at you. Like he’s excited to see you.

“I’ve been good. I finished up my last semester early. In December I graduated well. I didn't walk but I received the diploma which is just as good.” He crosses his arms as he listens to you furrowing his eyebrows that he always used to when listening intently.

He smiles as he lightly pats your upper arm in congratulations, “Hey that's great, really, you find any jobs or anything yet?”

“No, I mean I have but the pay is so shit that it’s not even worth it.” He nods understanding the job market has plummeted.

“I get that, if I hadn’t secured the job I have now a few years ago I probably would be back in school not knowing what to do.” Bucky came from an affluent family. His family always had money due to businesses, properties, and of course trusts and estates. His comment comes off a little tone deaf but you know he means well just trying to relate.

“Thanks,” he says as he grabs the drink from the barista as he begins adding a little packet of heavy cream.

“You stay around here? Or often?” He questions out of curiosity but also a small part of him hopes you say yes.

“Oh yeah. I moved back in with my parents after college. I mean- I don’t have a job so I really had no choice.” You hope you don’t sound like a complete fool of yourself. No job, living with parents, and your daily activities consist of getting coffee and reading.

“You’re still figuring it out, there’s no time limit.” His words comfort you, making you feel less alone. Even if he can’t exactly relate, it’s still nice to have someone understand your struggles.

Bucky continues to ask, “If you got a few minutes, you mind if we sit and catch up?” You smile and nod, letting out a small yes as you lead him to your little nook.

You're laughing at some story he’s telling from a recent event he went to where a kid found drawing on the walls of an art exhibit.

“Oh no, did the parents do anything?” You ask taking a sip of your mostly watered down chai.

“God no, remember these people think that their kids can do no wrong. Instead the dad threw him over his shoulder as they left quickly.” His answer made you shake your head wondering how parents never discipline their children.

“What have you been up to? Last thing I heard you were supposed to be taking over the family business.” The family business was just that- business. It was just managing properties, selling, and trading. But it brought in so much revenue. It’s the most popular realtor company in the state along with locations in neighboring states. It was started in the 40’s by Bucky’s great great grandfather and has now succeeded multiple generations.

“I have, well not entirely. I told my dad that I wanted to travel some first before settling with the job. Once you’re in that position all you can do is live for work, live to work. It just seems exhausting.” He sighs as he runs his hand through his short hair.

“You know I have a degree in Architecture, and I want to put that to use but my dad keeps pressuring me to take over the business. The money is good-

You cut him off,“But is it worth it? Money is great but if you aren’t happy with your job or what you do, no amount of money can compare to your happiness.”

“Yes, exactly. I’ve been sort of going back and forth on it but maybe I just need to go with what I want rather than what someone else wants.” Saying the quiet part outloud made Bucky realize that he wants to do what makes him happy regardless of money or fortune.

“You know you’re pretty insightful for your age. I wish I was like that when I was in my early 20s. But you seem so grounded. That’s very admirable Y/N.” The compliment causes your heart to skip a beat. You usually don’t get too many compliments, especially not on your mental or emotional intelligence.

“Thank you, it’s probably the books and because I’m the youngest child.” Your sister and you have a 10 year age gap that didn’t really help form a sibling relationship until you entered high school.

You weren’t planned which resulted in a little bit (a lot) of negligence from your parents. They had albums of pictures of her, always went to her events, and constantly doted on her. You were the youngest and the last. You were often thought of last. If you wanted them to make it to your events, school lunches, or any activity they'd send your grandparents. Which you became very close with at a young age because they noticed the difference between you and your sister. They never made you feel like a burden or second thoughts. You’ll always be grateful for that. Your parents apologized to you when you were older but the childhood trauma still stuck.

“I forgot you guys did have an age gap. I guess it’s more noticeable when you were younger.” His comment glides over, not caring to bring up your sister, his ex-girlfriend. Which you’re kind of happy about since he asked to catch up with you and he genuinely meant it.

Before he can get another word in your phone lights up, your sister is calling.

“You need to get that?” Bucky asks, noticing the screen.

“Yeah probably.” You sigh internally knowing that the coffee catch up is ending soon.

You swipe on the screen as you hold up a finger to give you a second.

“Where are you? It’s been an hour, I thought you said you were just getting coffee, not running errands.” Her voice is a little upset and can be heard by Bucky which makes you cringe a little.

“I’m sorry, I ran into someone and wanted to catch up.” Yeah her ex who you seem to be getting along with a little too well.

“It’s fine. I just didn’t know where my coffee was. Or you.” The last part was thrown in quickly to save herself. You know she doesn’t mean to be rude but that’s just how she can be.

“I’ll be home soon, sorry for taking so long. I didn’t realize how long I was out.” You really didn’t mean to take so long but the conversation lasted longer than expected.

The phone beep indicates a hang up as her reply.

“I’m sorry, I guess I got to go. But it was really nice seeing you again.” You stand up to gather your belongings.

“I really enjoyed it. I had a nice time, I really needed it.” Bucky meant what he said. It had been a while since he had a genuine conversation that wasn’t about work or mundane questions.

“Maybe we can catch up again, I mean I obviously don’t work so I’m always free.” You're hopeful that he’ll agree instead of it just being a one time occurrence.

“You have my number still? Or can I get yours?” You shake your head not remembering if your phone transferred his contact from the last time you updated it.

He grabs his phone to unlock it and lets you type in your number. Once you save your contact you head towards the door,“I got to run, but like I said just message me whenever you’re free. I can always make time.” I can always make time for you is what you wanted to say but bit your tongue instead.

“For sure, I’ll text you soon.” He promises as he watches you walk out of the small coffee shop knowing he’s already forming a liking to you.

It’s been a few months since you ran into Bucky at the coffee shop. Since that day you guys had been messaging non stop. Which quickly turned into late night phone calls that made your stomach hurt from laughing and cheeks sore from smiling. You only get together once a week since he’s still helping his dad and it took up most of his day. But he never fails to call or message you throughout the day to let you know what he’s up to. You’ve learned a lot from each other these past few months. He loves classic cars, museums, and fashion. He doesn’t care much for the bars but will go when his friends plan to. He designs a lot and is great at drawing too. He enjoys taking you out to museums, botanicals, and lately since the weather is better he’s taken you on hike trails. In return you’ve introduced him to books you enjoy and have started listening to audiobooks together. You’ve also found out how to make your own coffee. Bucky has an espresso machine in his condo that he never used. But together you guys figured out how to make your favorite drinks. Though you still go to the same coffee shop for convenience. It’s been a week since you’ve hung out and you expect a hangout session is due.

It’s morning when you get an unexpected call from Bucky. You answer without hesitation excited to hear his voice.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask as you sit on your bed anticipating his message.

“What are you doing?” He sounds like he has a smile on his face, which you picked up quickly through the phone calls how his voice and facial expressions match.

“Nothing, just at home.” You look over at the clock next to you flashing 9:52 a.m.

“Would you be opposed to packing a bag and going to the next state over?” At first you thought he was joking until he said “you there?”

“No, I mean yes that sounds fun.I’d love to tag along” You say quickly gathering yourself.

“Perfect. I can be there in an hour. Just got to drop off a few things for my dad and I’ll be on the way. You won’t need much, just a few things to last a night or so. Oh and pack a nice dress, I want to take you on a date.” Your heart flutters at the word date, he hadn’t used that word yet, neither have you. It was sort of a weird territory but this solidified there is more.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then!” You hang up letting the phone fall on the bed as you rush to get ready and pack looking forward to the night.

You arrived around a little after 3 in the next state. But since you couldn’t check in until 4 o’clock Bucky showed you a few places around the city. You ventured into antique shops, locally owned book shops, and of course you had to try a coffee shop. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted and insisted that you had to pick out at least one thing that he could buy you or else you couldn’t leave the store. You opted for a few books (it was five in total of hardcover books you could never find near you and were too expensive to order online). He seemed pleased to be funding your reading addiction.

You check your phone’s time making sure you’re not late getting ready. Bucky said to be ready by 6:45 and you’re cutting it close at 6:30 trying to finish a few makeup touch ups. And you haven’t even gotten dressed yet. Bucky left the room an hour ago so you could get ready in private. He didn’t want to intrude on your space saying that ‘I know how women are. My mom always enjoyed getting ready alone because she didn’t want to feel rushed.’ He was right, if he was in the same room you’d feel like you would have to get ready quickly.

You curse trying to get your heels ons as you lace up the second heel trying to secure it as much as possible so you wouldn’t fall. As you’re finishing up and repacking your makeup to clean up the area the door clicks open as Bucky walks in. You turn to him hoping he likes it. It’s nothing extravagant to you compared to their style. It’s a black strapless elongated dress tailored to your height. A narrow slit starts from the upper thigh opening towards the bottom.

“Wow, you look incredible. I mean not that you don’t always look good but today, tonight you just look exceptional.” You try not to smile at his words but fail. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him flustered.

“Thank you, is this too much? It’s my old winter formal dress but I didn’t have time to get a new one.” You hope your attire suits the restaurant dress code. The last thing you want to do is embarrass yourself in front of him.

“No, you look perfect. It’s perfect.” He’s matching with black slacks, sweater, and a long peabody coat.

“I can say the same for you, I like the monochromatic look. It suits you.” Your comment makes him smile as it means a lot coming from you.

“I wanted to look my best for you.” He checks his watch, noticing the time,”we should probably head down. The valet is waiting for us.” He holds out his hand as you accept it.

The waiter sat you at a booth per Bucky’s request. You’re glad to sit to relieve pressure off your feet. You only walked a little but the heels are skinny and feel like they’re stabbing your feet. Bucky orders drinks for you as you look at the menu. It’s limited but that’s how most fine dining restaurants operate.

“I want you to get whatever you want. My treat.” You don’t say thank you this time. “Don’t worry, I will.” Your reply comes out teasingly creates a smirk on his face knowing that you’re comfortable around him and letting him treat you accordingly..

The finished entrees have been pushed to the side leaving waiting to be picked up as you listen to him talk about this week's work load. Your phone interrupts him mid sentence as a message comes through from your sister. He doesn’t mean to pry, it was in the middle of the table after all.

“Do you need to get that?” He asks politely knowing that he’d give you all the time you needed.

You check it before answering him.

‘Hey, just checking on you, hope you’re doing okay. It feels like we haven’t talked in a little bit.’ For a second you feel bad. But you also know she only comes around when you don’t make plans or reach out first. You are always chasing and you hate forcing things, especially familial ties. It’s also not just that, that makes you feel bad. You’re sitting across from her ex-boyfriend who she dated for 4 years who she thought she was going to marry. Given it’s been two years since they’ve broken up. Now you’re sitting here wondering if you should leave for her sake or stay for what your heart wants.

“No it’s fine, just something with my sister.” He must’ve noticed your demeanor change as he grabs your hand from the table. He rubs his thumb across your hand soothing you.

“I get it, this situation isn’t ideal nor normal in a sense. It’s confusing, conflicting. Like you're questioning yourself what's right and wrong or too far. If you want me to take you home tonight and never speak again I understand. But I will say regardless of what happens after tonight. It’s up to you. It’s your feelings I respect ultimately. But I want you to know, I’d regret it if I don’t at least try. Because even though it’s only been a few months since we reconciled, I finally got to know someone that I have never met. Emotionally and mentally you captivate me in a way no one else has. Someone that actually listens to me, understands me, and wants me for me, not for what I have. I would be a fool not to chase someone like that regardless of who they're tied to.” He takes a small breath before finishing, “I don’t want to imagine a life without you. If it’s not you then I don’t want anyone. Above all I don’t want to walk away from tonight without telling you how I feel. What I feel is you, you make up my thoughts, I see you in my future. I’d do anything to prove that love I have for you. Even if it means allowing you to walk away tonight. Because you’re the most important thing to happen to me in a long time. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you or make you choose something you aren’t ready for. I’m here for you even if you walk away, I’ll always come to you if you need me.”

His eyes are a little teary as he cups your hand with both of his hands and kisses it.

“You don’t have to make up your mind right n-” He’s cut off by you.

You interrupt him as you lean closer to the table with a shaky breath.“I don’t want to live a life I regret. Especially regretting someone that I could have a life with but chose not to out of fear or for someone else's feelings. I don’t know where life is supposed to lead me but I know I want it with you. Most people follow through with decisions based on what’s most logical but I choose my heart. And my heart wants you.”

He leans over the table as you meet him halfway to kiss him. Letting his lips envelope yours, soft and plump like you imagined. It’s sweet and gentle like him. You pull away from the short kiss wishing it lasted longer but you’re also in public.

“So you for sure don’t want to go home?” He asks one more time knowing your answer.

“Not unless it’s with you.”

No words are exchanged as you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, one of your legs is on his shoulder as he takes off your shoe. As he unties the last heel he kisses from your ankle to your thigh. Moving upwards to the wetness between your thighs. You lay back on the bed allowing for more access. He kneels on the floor, grabbing your ass and pulling it closer to him for better positioning. Your dress is pushed up, bunched around your waist as he pulls your panties off. He throws them to the side discarding them. You feel his breath on your pussy for a second before he kisses it. He gives the mound and lips little kisses teasing you as you wait for him to give you more. Shivers run down your spine as you feel his tongue on your slit. He flattens it to cover the whole area, licking a few times. Savoring the taste of you. He takes your swollen clit into his mouth to gently suck on. You can feel your clit pulsate as his tongue teases the little nub. Flicking it and rubbing it in a circle with his tongue. Causing your hands to find his hair as you grip it and grind against his face. His hand reaches between your thighs as he rubs the soft skin gently before he runs two fingers over your wet pussy. A moan escapes your mouth as you feel his hand on your wet cunt. Once his fingers are wet, he uses one finger to open you up. Allowing you to get used to the feeling before he adds another. Another finger joins the first stretching you. It gives you some relief as you rock yourself on his fingers a little as he begins to lap at your clit. Tonguing the nerve as he finger fucks your small hole.

“Your fingers feel so good.” You moan gripping his hair.

He removes his face from your pussy, “you taste amazing. Just as I thought” He gets back to his feet to lean over you as he begins to furiously fuck you on his fingers. You’re cursing at him as he continues, loving the sounds you’re making and faces you make when you’re being pleasured. You place your fingers on your clit as you feel yourself getting close. Rubbing circles and other motions to aid in relief. You’re begging him at this point whimpering knowing how close you are. He adds one more finger stretching you beyond belief knowing that you can take it

“You’re taking my fingers so well I can’t imagine how good it’ll feel on my dick.” . He says as he guides you while you’re cumming. Letting you know how good you are and how pretty you are.

He waits a few more seconds before he pulls out his fingers leaving you empty. He gets off the bed to take off the rest of his clothes, swiftly undoing his buckle and pants to reveal a very prominent hard-on. You move closer to the headboard to get more comfortable as you wait for his return.

“I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning on having sex.” He’s on the bed again rubbing his cock trying to relieve the pressure.

“I don’t care, I just want you inside me.” Your voice is needy as he grins before he’s quickly in between your legs again.

He rubs his cock up and down your slit. Letting the juices coat the tip. He teases the clit for a second until you whine wanting him inside you. He lines his cock up at your entrance with one hand letting the tip slowly enter. He looks at you, watching your face to make sure he’s not hurting you. You gasp as he slides in, his length completely filling you up.

“You doing okay?” You nod as he waits for a second before moving.

His thrusts are gentle to not hurt your cervix. He knows his size is above average and easy to bruise if too rough. He leans down to kiss you, one hand on your hip, the other on your face. His kiss is hungry and rough compared to his thrusts.

“I’ve been waiting for this. Dreaming about this.” He says moaning into your mouth.

“I know, I’ve cum to you so many times.” You confess.

“I can’t count the times you’ve made me hard by just being next to you.” His pace quickens up which makes you grip his biceps.

“Fuck.” You draw out the word as he continues pounding.

He grabs your legs, bending your knees to your chest. This position leaves you completely folded, breathless, with how deep he is.

‘Fuck you’re so big Bucky.” You say throwing your head back.

“Maybe your cunt is just too tiny then. Maybe I just need to keep stretching you out then so you don’t forget who you belong to.” He leans his head down to watch his cock retreat in and out of your hole. Mesmerized by the wetness glistening on his cock.

He bites his lip as he slowly pulls out almost all the way, just to thrust back in. He loves watching your face as he’s inside you. Your little sounds and whimpers almost send him over the edge entirely with how sweet you are. You move your hips against his cock, meeting his thrusts. You’re so wet you can’t even tell if you’ve already cum or not. Sweat is building up on his forehead as you watch him pound into you. You know he’s close by the erratic thrusts.

“Where can I cum?” He asks, needing an answer quickly or else he’s about to make you a milf.

“Inside me. I’m on birth control.” He moans leaning down to kiss you as his thrusts speed up and his body shakes. Your walls grip him tightly as he spills his seed inside of you. Filling your cunt until it’s dripping.

Once he’s finished he gets a warm rag to clean you up. Letting the warmness soothe your now aching core.

“I love you” Bucky says as he doesn’t care to look for a ‘right time’ anymore.

“I love you too.” You really do.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #draftsandrecs #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

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spirk-trek · 2 months ago

Note

Hey so, it's me. The debbie-downer vaguing you in the spirk tag. I didn't mention you directly because my post wasn't directed at you, although it was made in response to checking some of your posts because I do have Unification in my filtered list (content and tag), so those fanworks? Behind a button, so my choice to look is all my own. (I didn't send the anon, though. That was someone else, sorry to say.) It sucks that that's how tumblr's system works but yay content filtering! Tumblr didn't always have that.

I didn't make that post to start drama, and I'm not the sort to get my kicks by being a contrarian for opposition's sake (like. I'm a Shatner fan. In a lot of online Star Trek spaces, I might as well say I hate K/S or Leonard Nimoy or kick puppies in my spare time, you know?), but I did make it in anger and for that I apologize. I should have waited longer on it to phrase things better or simply have deleted it from my drafts after typing it out. (But it's out there now and I'll live with it.)

I do understand where the joy of connecting the past to the present comes from (as a lot of your posts do with connecting old and new fanworks together), and that a lot of people are celebrating the Unification short as a culmination of 50+ years of K/S despite their initial separation according to the initial story, but for me (personally! I want to stress that. It's just me and my own opinion here), I keep seeing it as a valuing of what a company is finally offering fans rather than the celebration of fans who saw where K/S's story ended at the time, rejected that ending that was offered by the corporation, and made their own ending for K/S, without looking towards any official channels as a guide for their visions. That's what my post was about, where my anger was from, those questions--what becomes lost in fandom if we accept canon from the corporation that holds the copyright? What does it say if we look towards that same canon as being above what fandom has already envisioned? In a fandom as old as Star Trek's, one that laid so much groundwork that we take for granted, to overlook that worries me.

I suppose the biggest issue here is it's too similar, like a reflection in a mirror: on one side, Unification stands as the canonization of what the fandom has envisioned all along. It culminates. On the other, Unification appears as a bone tossed to finally appease fans who have seen K/S from the start and it feels too little, too late. Ironically enough, the short has seemingly managed to divide people, but it's too early to tell how lasting such a division could be.

Hopefully I've cleared the air by this. Unification clearly is not my cup of tea and I'm honestly not trying to ruin anyone's fun (most of my posts have gone untagged for a reason but I forget tumblr still parses for post content to index. Yikes. That post was tagged, though, because it was a snap decision made in anger and I wanted my thoughts to be seen). One could argue the short wasn't even made for me as I've long wondered if I will watch Generations because I've read the summary and didn't like it. But that's the joy of fandom and transformative works. We can look at the story and pick our favorite parts and rewrite the ones we don't like. If we didn't do that, fandom wouldn't exist, or it would but it wouldn't be as much fun.

Sorry for the essay in your inbox and for causing any confusion and hurt. I hope you've had a great day 💛

i'm not going to lie, it does hurt a little. i wasn't going to answer this publicly but i don't have the time today to have a private convo and i don't want you to think i deleted it or ignored it, so here we are.

i don't think unification made spirk any more canon than tmp did. i don't think the short was made with k/s in mind at all, even as a bone to toss starving shippers. star trek at large was never intended as a love story between them, but people have always seen it anyway.

i'm conflicted about the use of nimoy's likeness too. despite that, i think that they did it as respectfully as they could have and involved the right people. it was a goodbye, not using him for a cheap cameo or advertising purposes (yes i know it was an "ad" like everything is, but it's not like spock holds up a coke at the end). you can disagree with me, and i understand your point of view. that's why i said i understood where that anon was coming from.

what i see is william shatner and others taking a story that ended in a way that was disrespectful to both characters, one of which he himself has been playing for the majority of his life, and trying to fix that. it doesn't mean there's no corporate greed involved. both can be true. at least they posted it on youtube, they didn't premiere it or put it behind a paywall. it was just eight minutes, and less than a quarter of that had nimoy's face in it. my favorite part of the whole thing was seeing tos kirk meet his future selves. i love that even though they both die out of their times, they find each other in the end.

i don't want to be an activist or defend or endorse anything, i just...

those zines i tagged were 1) a poem by della van hise that was so accurate to the short that others were already reblogging it (i posted it weeks ago). i found it super interesting that she wrote a poem about them meeting again in death before tmp/wok even came out, let alone this short. 2) i was gushing about unification in the tags. 3) another poem about being side by side, which again, i found incredibly relevant. the other one i posted was because it went well with the others visually. it has nothing to do with unification other than the fact that spock is laying down.

this has just made me sad tbh. i'm not angry and i love your analysis/fan work so much, so :( idk, i don't want anything i post to be divisive or disrespectful. i wasn't even worried about that before. i just really needed a win and maybe i clung to that a little too hard :/

#long post #asks #😞😓😔

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neuroticbookworm · 11 months ago

Text

Another Thai BL, another Asian parent-child conflict that enrages the audience and yet, is extremely nuanced. I’m gonna try and speak on it as an Asian kid who grew up in the East, but currently lives in the West, carrying complicated feelings on the Asian parenting I received.

I’m seeing a good discourse in the tags from @lurkingshan, @respectthepetty, @bengiyo, @heretherebedork and @williamrikers, among others, on the hypocrisy of a dad who hit his son in anger and is now lecturing him on the importance of controlling one’s actions when angry. I agree with everyone that the dad is being a hypocritical piece of shit. But I do not think that this is a failure in the writing of the show. Quite the opposite, actually. Because of how Ten responds and acts in the face of this hypocrisy.

Ten comes across as belligerent and confrontational in every interaction he has had with his dad, but it is never uncalled for, and he never seeks it out himself. He tries to stay out of his dad and his stepmom/his dad’s girlfriend’s way as much as possible, and only responds in a defensive manner when provoked. And in today’s episode, he even kept himself open enough in the conversation with his dad, despite his anger, to concede and accept a very good point when raised. Ten understands his dad’s hypocrisy but refuses to stoop to the same level of pettiness because he knows being a good partner and a good friend is more important than being right. This is a mark of excellent writing, in my opinion. The main character is fiercely loyal to his partner and his friends and does not let his baggage with his dad cloud his course of action.

I also see calls for an apology from the dad already brewing in the fandom. And I understand the instinct to want that. It is always so satisfying when mistreated children finally get the apology that’s been long overdue. But it’s rarely this simple in an Asian household. Times are changing faster than most people can in a lifetime, and there are systemic, cultural flaws in how an Asian society understands and teaches parenting. And if we factor in the social, economic, religious lines that heavily influence how an Asian person forms their social circle, it would’ve left these parents with little to no peers who can tell them what they’re doing is wrong. Parents striking their kids is clearly considered evil nowadays, but only a few years ago, it would’ve been a perfectly acceptable response to control a bratty child, on and off screen (and it still is in some Asian cultures).

Now, NONE of what I said above is an excuse to write off the behavior of Ten’s dad as acceptable, just because it’s very Asian. As an Asian who grew up in the East, the demand for an apology does not particularly resonate with me, because Ten and his dad both know that their problems are not gonna go away as soon as Ten’s dad apologizes. Because:

If Ten starts demanding an apology for every shitty thing his dad has ever done, where should he stop? Should he demand an apology for the time his dad probably struck him as a kid when he was trying to get him to memorize multiplication tables, as is wont of every Asian parent ever (it is such an ubiquitous experience to Asian kids everywhere that there are reels with millions of views on IG, referencing this experience. Does this mean every Asian parent is evil and must be put on trial by their kids? Holy moly, think of all the money therapists would make if every Asian kid in the world decided to call out their parents on their shit. Entire economies would crumble to dust from the sudden disruption in cashflow.)

Is an apology going to comfort Ten? Asian parenting warps the sense of self of both the parents and the kids, because of the levels of abject sacrifice involved in it. It is extremely possible that Ten’s dad had worked day and night to provide well for his family, for his son, before Ten’s mom fell ill. It’s the same choice he made for his wife, but in this case, it paid off, because now Ten is financially well taken care of, and he is privileged enough to pursue a career in medicine. If Ten demands an apology from his dad for not being there when his mom was dying, do we know for sure that when he gets that apology, his mind won’t conflate the sacrifices his dad made for him, thus making him feel guilty for forcing someone who clearly cared about him enough to work hard for him, into defeat (look at this rich soup of Asian parenting misery, yum yum yum. I know it’s delicious because I’m paying my therapist weekly to make the broth less spicy).

The dialogue in the show whenever Ten’s mom is brought up and discussed is always very carefully worded:

Not “because you did not act”, but “because you took so long to act”. Looks like Ten’s dad made a choice that ultimately did not pay off. He cared, and he wanted to do something to save his wife, but whatever he chose to do ultimately did not help. And now she is dead and he has managed to not help and comfort his wife in her final days AND unwittingly traumatize his son with his absence. The show has painted this storyline with enough nuance that I don’t believe we are meant to read Ten’s dad as a simple villain, but rather a father who does care but has made some serious mistakes. This situation is so emotionally complicated and realistically, it’s gonna take years for both of them to find a middle ground. Ten is gonna have to grow up and make a few mistakes of his own in life to develop proper empathy for his dad, and that’s gonna put a couple things into perspective for him (I’m not saying Ten is bound to make mistakes because he is bad. He is going to because shit happens in life and human beings always do better in hindsight than in the moment). And the dad is gonna have to grow old and let his aging body humble him a little and shrink his ego enough to see that he had failed his son by not being emotionally available to deal with their trauma, together.

I’ve been watching Kim’s Convenience, a Canadian sitcom that follows a Korean-Canadian family and their shenanigans. I’m only on S04E02, but there is a father-son conflict at the centre of this show that is still not directly addressed by both the dad and the son. It’s been years (almost a decade, I think) since the son has been driven out of his home by his dad for a dumb mistake he made as a teen. And the way the show works on it is so infuriating, because it is so Asian. It is rarely addressed aloud in the presence of the dad or the son, lest it leads to anger and screaming and storming off. The path to reconciliation is built with mom calling her son for help to fix something in their home because his dad is too stubborn to ask for it. With the son visiting the hospital when the dad had to undergo surgery, and having their first real conversation in years which the dad forgets after waking up from the influence of pain drugs. With the daughter’s old phone passed down to the dad with her brother’s number on it, which leads to them texting each other. It is all extra frustrating for me because I’m extremely straightforward in my conversations with my parents. I do not like ambiguous endings to verbal conflicts because they are a ticking time bomb and I do not have the capacity to forget its existence and let it tick away in the background. But, I understand it when my friends, and Asian characters in TV shows, don’t want to force things out in the open if it can be swept under the rug for the time being, because peace of mind in Asian households is fleeting and you would be wise to take what you get.

Good TV shows can best serve their audience when they serve their characters, and stay true to the experiences of the people they are trying to represent. My teen ass was regularly shocked, appalled and intrigued by the sexual liberation promised by Western media I consumed while I was in school and college. I was surrounded by a sexually repressed society that was convinced that the only moral way to enjoy pleasure was after marriage with your partner. And very predictably, this means a lot of dead bedrooms, unhappy marriages and kids growing up with no real understanding of what romantic love looks like. I would’ve never had the courage to move my entire life to the West, if the Western media I watched had not represented its people in all their messy, horny glory, albeit with a rose-tinted lens on gender, race and sexuality.

Some Asian parents in media need to fall at the feet of their children and apologize. I remember being absolutely fucking enraged while @lurkingshan and I watched Double Savage at the behest of our friend @waitmyturtles, and in the finale, Korn was the one who fell at the feet of his absolute piece of shit of a dad to apologize for FUCKING NOTHING. And after Shan and I were done surviving that show, I remember telling my friends that most Asian media does not have strong writing whenever Asian children need to defy their shitty parents and come to terms with their destructive parenting, because chances are, most Asian creators would not have successfully done it. Hence, intergenerational trauma (gasp! It’s all connected!).

So. I would never demand to see Ten’s dad apologize to him to consider Cooking Crush a successful show, because that is not the cultural context this story operates in. Would I enjoy it if he does? Hell yes. Would I be mad if he does not? No, because Ten is proving him wrong time and again, and that’s a constant reminder from the narrative of who is in the right.

#cooking crush #cooking crush meta #off jumpol #gun atthaphan #tenprem #thai bl

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