#He just has that slightly unhinged energy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blkkizzat · 3 months

Text

.Daddy & Baby ༄

.summary ༄ an overly self indulgent pwp fic on what it's like being in a polyship with Choji (Choso x Toji x Reader) based on my incredibly unhinged discord msg:

.tags ༄ canon au. bdsm, sadomasochism, voyeurism, cuckolding, spanking (kewchie & ass), creampies, pussy talk, sub!choso, dom!toji, sub!reader, bondage, overstim, pup play, taunting, squirting, edging, orgasm denial, pet names: daddy, mommy, pup/puppy, slut. Toji being a meanie pants in general to our sweet baby Choso and the tiniest bit of fluff and domestically at the end. slightly black fem coded but no descriptors .shoutouts ༄ @littlemochabunni & @ryomens-vixen for feeding into my sickness when I shared this in discord. .wc ༄ 3.9k

“T-Tojiii! Fah-Fahh-Fahhhhck~!”

Unable to contain your moans, you grasp fists full of sheets that do little to brace you from the backshots Toji is currently pounding into you. Each thrust gets progressively sloppier against the slick of your bodies drenched in shared fluids. Evidence of this being your second …no, third round. Toji’s calloused hands are imprinted into the soft chub of your waist in order to keep you from slipping away from him.

Fuck. Stretched out around his girth Toji can’t deny how good your cunt squeezes him.

So good, so fucking messy for him all over his cock.

A sinful symphony of flesh echos throughout the room everytime Toji’s loins snap forward slapping your skin together violently as he fucks his previous loads that much deeper into your squelching pussy. Giving your ass an open-handed smack for good measure, Toji smirks at how the sting makes your little pussy squeeze that much tighter around his cock.

Too much, too much! Pleasure filled moans continue to spill from your lips as fresh tears roll down your cheeks.

Your muscles are reduced to goo, trembling under your own weight as you begin to slump forward face first into the mattress. Yet Toji, unrelenting on his mission to bully all 10 of his thick inches into your womb, is not cutting you any slack.

“Uh-uh, mamas, none of that shit now–”

A firm grip on your hip, Toji yanks you up by your hair, forcibly returning the arch to your back. If not for Toji securing you upright, his burly fingers tangling around your locks, you surely would have collapsed.

“–ya know puppy likes seeing the look on y’er face while I’m breaking this tight lil’ cunt.”

With Toji now doing the work of supporting your weight, even by your hair, you’re able to spare just enough energy to blink away the moisture flooding your eyes and focus your sights on the puppy in question.

Your puppy– Choso, is kneeling on the wooden floor tied to the bed frame by his black leather studded leash and collar. Seeing you getting worked over so beautifully by Toji has Choso’s black jeans feeling increasingly tight and sticky from the large amounts pre leaking out of his tip. Rutting into the side of the bed, Choso is desperate to relieve any of the throbbing he feels straining between his thighs.

Yet Choso couldn’t cum, he’s not allowed to. His dick is bound in a silicone cockring that keeps him in a suspended state of titillation, unable to find any release.

Toji’s bullying is why Choso has it in the first place to be honest. Ridiculing Choso that he busts far too easily and would have to learn to hold it in longer like a ‘real man’ if he ever wanted to fully satisfy you.

You’d overheard their convo earlier from the next room over. You scoffed, Toji was just being an ass per usual. Truthfully, Choso satisfied you plenty, even if he was a quick nut he would still fuck you through his tears and overstimulation. But shamefully you had been silent at the suggestion. You resisted entering the room and coming to Choso’s rescue in hopes Choso would comply, just so you could see him all cute and frustrated. You loved how flushed his pouty face would get when he was inside you, begging you to let him cum (even though he often did so without permission anyway) and a cockring would only intensify the experience.

“Just look at him being such a good lil’ pup f’er ya, Y/N. Wouldn’t deny him that lil bit, would ya?”

You shake your head.

“N-No, I-I won’t Daddy… mMM fuck!

Delivering another smack to your ass cheeks Toji’s evil smirk widens causing Choso to squirm more against the bed as he can only wantonly watch from the sidelines.

Choso didn’t care about Toji’s taunts if he also got to have you. He would willingly bark if you asked. However in this situation, fully bound, Choso finds himself laboriously panting. The open mouth gag he dons forces his jaw wide, his tongue hanging out akin to an actual dog’s. Drool pours freely down his chin and drips onto his bare chest. When the need to touch you becomes near unbearable, Choso struggles more but he is immobilized as his arms are also secured behind him in matching leather cuffs.

Defeated, choso whimpers and curls deeper into the bed, his hypersensitive pierced nipples chafing against the mattress leaving them swollen and red. Wishing he was the one balls deep in your core, your pliable cunt becoming mushy and sloshing around his cock instead.

Choso whines are loud even with the gag.

Your heart pulls at the sounds of his choked cries and seeing his eyes water as they beg for you. The urge to reach out and console him is almost as strong as the depraved part of you that gets a surge of dopamine from witnessing such a ‘good, sweet boy’ suffer pitfully in want of you.

“G-Good boy baby, s-so good for me. C-Can y-you wait a bit more C-Cho?”

You managed to sweetly squeak out encouragement in between Toji’s thrusts, knowing Choso could easily break the restraints if he wanted. They’re not even cursed tools so they wouldn’t hold him if he really wanted out of them.

However, Choso was your faithful good boy to a fault. He would endure for you, bricked in his jeans to the point of gnawing agony until you told him it was time.

Choso slowly nods his head, keeping his tears from falling, for now.

Shit, it’s so fucking hot.

The spectacle of Choso in all his aroused anguish has you clenching impossibly tighter around Toji who releases a string of curses as he jerks your back flush to his chest. One hand roughly palms your tit and the other rolls your clit between the pads of his fingers. Your head falls limp to the slide allowing Toji to dip his tongue into your clavicle and nip at you with no regard to how sore you would be tomorrow even if he didn’t leave a mark.

“Y-Ya close mamas?”

Toji's voice slightly falters as his heavy breath grunts across your neck. The way you are pulsing around him is doing him in quickly and he needs to make you cum first or in his eyes he'd be just as pathetic as the sad little cuck at the end of the bed. Landing a jarring spank directly on your clit, your own tongue lolls out of your mouth mirroring Choso.

“A’course ya fuckin’ are nasty slut, yer lovin’ this. Can’t get enough of being slutted out in front of y’er lil’ cuck puppy huh?”

Toji has your body jolting sharply at the sensation and your limbs buckle as you pull forward away from him. Any attempts to escape from him are in vain and frankly, there is no real conviction behind your movements. Your speech diminished to nonsensical prattling, your brain has already short circuited. Utterly drunk on Toji’s fat cock, the shockwaves from his wild thrusts have you spiraling towards release.

The chains on Choso’s leash clank more fervently as he erratically tugs on them, agitated by Toji’s particularly rough use of you.

It was pretty much a given, but Choso was far more gentle in comparison to Toji. Treating your body with the utmost reverence, Choso would bathe you in tender kisses, gently lapping up your sweat and mixed fluids from your cunt, thighs, breast and body as a form of aftercare following a rough session with Toji.

This would typically lead to Choso slow fucking himself deep in your guts while he cooed into your tiddies with a soft sigh, repeatedly murmuring ‘Mommy’ and sucking on your pebbled nipples. Choso had mentioned to Toji plenty of times before to be more gentle with his mommy.

Toji on the other hand couldn’t give a fuck what the lil’ pussy whipped emo boy wanted. Choso couldn’t beat his ass and besides Toji knew how much you liked it when he was wrecking your shit. Also whether Choso wanted to own up to it or not Toji knew despite his protests how hard the lil’ freak would get from watching the two of you. The sight of you looking so messy, so perfectly fucked out, while getting pounded drove Choso crazy.

“Fuckin’ shut it n’ wait y’er fuckin’ turn or ya won’t get one. Don’t think I can’t stay in this sweet lil’ cunt all damn day. Shiu can find someone else to do that shitty ass job n’ ya can stay tied up just– like– that–”

Toji grunts out the last of his words in sync with his hips slamming into you.

Choso would pout if his mouth wasn’t gagged open yet he obeys– anything to be able to eventually touch you, sooner rather than later preferably and he knew Toji would follow through on his threats just to spite him.

Choso’s chains still strained taunt though, in an effort to be as close to you as possible but he is no longer pulling. However, you could still make out the soft gurgles of him calling out for you even with his gag on.

Choso’s whining and Toji’s manhandling of you has you on the very edge. All you need is a nudge which you get in the form of Toji rolling your overstimmed bud between the pads of his rough fingers and swirling his wet heavy tongue along with his filthy words into your ear.

“S-Shit, that’s it, such a good lil’ pussy for Daddy. Gon’ on n’ fuckin’ cum on this cock already mamas, eh? I know ya wanna.”

And you do.

A shaky mewl is ripped from you as your vision blacks dissolving into pleasure, spasming around Toji’s cock as electricity spreads, tingling through your entire body.

You look so lovely with your eyes crinkled and face twisted in ecstasy that Choso surely would have busted for the umpteenth time that night if not for the torturous cockring still on his length. His humid jeans were officially soaked through with pre and his dick twitched against the large stain on the crotch of his pants.

Groaning into your flesh, Toji bites down on your shoulder as he finishes in your pussy shortly after, his girthy mushroom tip blowing his third load, just as hefty as the first two, straight into your guts.

You’d surely be pregnant after all this if you weren’t on the pill.

Pulling out of your sore pussy with a pop, a mix of your cum leaks down his finally emptied balls. Seeing what state he’s left you in, Toji isn’t cruel enough to let your completely spent body fall face first onto the bed. Securing you in his hold, Toji brings you back down rather gently onto the pillows at the top of the bed.

Your chest heaves as you watch Toji smirk down at you.

He brushes away some of the hair stuck to your forehead, a surprisingly tender gesture which you would have smiled at had it not been immediately followed up by a slap directly on your tiddies. Just so he could see the sweat running down them jiggle off, Toji reasons when you yell at him for it.

“A-Assholeee…”

You breathe out weakly while resting your eyes, which has Toji smirking at the extent of your fucked out state.

“Yeah mamas, I am.. So let’s show the puppy here how much this asshole filled y’er slutty cunt up then, eh?”

Parting your shaky legs open with ease, Toji gives Choso a full view of your battered cunt. Globs of Toji’s cum are steadily dribbling out of your pretty pussy and dirting the already filthy bedsheets further.

“Heh, Y/N just look at all that. Didn’t know this tiny pussy could carry all that now, did ya mamas?”

Toji goes to spread your pussy lips open wider but you swat his hand away with a smack, your voice returning to an almost even tone as your breathing calmed.

“S-Stop playing around and go do that job Toji! I don’t need Shiu blowing up my phone asking me where the hell you are again… That is, unless you’re trying to get me to be your mommy too?”

Your head continues to buzz, dizzy from your pleasure filled high, but you’re still able to check Toji’s ass if needed. If he wanted to be ‘Daddy’ then he had to get his ass up and go make some ‘Daddy’ money too.

Tsk. You sassing him like this was just begging Toji to give you round four, fucking the attitude right out of you again.

Nevertheless, Toji gets up from bed. He had spent his last few thousand yen at the boat races yesterday and unless he wanted you nagging him about bills next week and threatening to withhold pussy again, he knew needed to do this dammed job.

“Alriiight, relax Y/N, damn. I’mma go fuck...”

Not bothering with a shower, Toji throws on his sweats, sparing a glance at Choso who was absolutely foaming at the chance to get his turn. He couldn’t resist taunting him a bit more though before he leaves.

“But eh, mamas ya look like shit. Ya should rest, not enough energy to play with puppy right now. We can untie him once I get back, won't be too long...maybe.”

The pained wide-eyed look Choso gave you in the moment was truly gut wrenching. Having to wait three full rounds before he could even touch you was a new feat for Choso and combined with the cockring, there wasn’t much he wouldn't do in the moment to break free. His lust was beginning to cloud rational thought and threatened to send him into a frenzy.

Choso might even go kill Toji’s target himself if that's what it took.

“And whose fuckin’ fault is that Toji? Urgh, I know, I’m tired… but my sweet baby has been waiting too long already!”

Gathering your energy, you weakly sit up and longingly reach your arms out for Choso who is back to pulling on his restraints again, nearly cracking the bed frame this time.

Toji reluctantly unhooks the leash from Choso’s collar which had also been connected to the gag, unshackling him from both simultaneously and pushing him towards you on the bed with a sneer.

“Go clean ‘er up then pup.”

Faster than lightning, Choso’s face is slotting between your thighs, his arms still chained behind him. Choso is on his knees hovering upright over your puffy cunt, abs pulling taunt straining his core so doesn’t fall forward onto you and stress your already sore body further.

The smell of sex in the room was already strong but the intoxicating way the musk was wafting off your cunt made Choso feral. He wanted nothing more than to dive his face between your folds and slurp you dry, ridding you completely of Toji’s cum before replacing it and filling you with his own.

Unfortunately, his jaw is locking badly. Clenching up as an after effect of being forced open for over two hours using the gag Choso had been previously unfamiliar with. Now Choso is powerless to do anything more than dribble a continuous string of thick spittle down onto your pussy, connecting his pitiful slack jawed pout to your already messed up cunt. Choso sniffles, whimpering as his lip quivers in frustration of not being able to eat your sloppy pussy out like he wanted to, his frustrated tears finally falling.

Giving him a comforting smile you don’t hesitate to pull Choso down by his shoulders. Allowing his head to nuzzle his favorite spot, your plush tits. You hushed him gently with a kiss to the crown of his head between his buns and wiping the sweat off his damp brow before you held him tightly to you.

“Shhh– s’okay Cho, you did so good waiting for me baby. I love you so, so much, so proud of you.”

Toji huffs, rolling his eyes at your coddling of a fully grown ass man. His eyes scan the room in a hurry to figure out where the hell he put his holster with his glock so he could gtfo before he hurled at the nauseating scene.

“Mmm, Toji do me a favor and hand me the key to unlock his cuffs, pretty please Daddy?”

Grumbling Toji does what you ask, knowing you’re well aware calling him ‘daddy’ was his weak spot. Only referring to him as such when you or your greedy little cunt wanted him to do or pay for something for you. He wasn’t a fuckin’ simp like Choso though, or at least he thinks so.

Toji grabbed the key off the night stand and tossed it to you. You caught them with a wink mouthing ‘love you’ as he just shook his head with a small smirk and made to leave the bedroom still in search of his gun.

“Toji Daddy, your .44 is on the kitchen table by the way!”

You yell after him as you reach down to unfasten Choso’s cuffs. Toji’s gruff grunt from the hallway is the only response you receive.

“You’re welcome... dickhead.”

You mumble the last part under your breath before returning your attention to Choso. You felt guilty over letting him go neglected for this long. He’d been fitfully humping his cock against your leg and tounging at your nipples since you brought him into your chest.

“Just let me undo these cuffs, then I’ll take such good care of you Cho, m’kay?”

Yet once you unlocked his cuffs and cupped his hot cheeks to lift his head your eyes were met with Choso’s own searing into you. The aggression edging on the corner of his eyes contrasted with the tears running down his face and it unnerved you as Choso sits up.

“C-Cho… you okay baby?”

Choso’s answer to you was in the form of abruptly grasping your ankles and throwing them next to your ears. An icy shiver travels up your spine as you quickly realized how bad you fucked up teasing Choso to this extent when you see red lines forming over Choso’s face.

With Flowing Red Scale activated, controlling and redirecting the blood flow in his body revitalizes Choso’s muscles with adrenaline. Movement returning to his stiff jaw and limbs that had been previously incapacitated.

Choso wastes no time plunging his pulsing cock into your sore cunt. The sensations of the metal prince albert piercing on the tip of his cock scraping against your g spot before ramming into your cervix, combining with the silicone cockring pluging you up full every time he bottoms out, leaves you breathless. Your voice becomes hoarse from strangled screams of both pleasure and pain with every sloppy buck of his hips.

Not being able to eat you out like he wanted to after waiting so long was the breaking point for Choso that snapped the little sanity he had left in the moment. He loved you so much and wanted you so badly. If he couldn’t suck Toji’s cum out of you he would fuck it out and give you even more.

Then they could compare who actually filled your pretty pussy up the most.

Choso’s intensity renders your sights spotty. The only beacon of focus being the silver dog tag that dangled off the studded collar still fitted around Choso’s neck. His Adam's apple bobbed fiercely as warm sweat trickled down his face and onto yours further obscuring your vision.

All thoughts of aftercare had long dissipated. The treatment of your cunt now was more akin to a horny college kid’s favorite pocket pussy. You felt so fucking good for Choso who couldn’t get enough of the way your cunt was drowning his cock. Your pussy greedily swallowed all of him gripping onto him tightly even with the amount of slick spilling out of you.

“N-Need to cum in you so bad Mommy, p-please let me cum in you!”

Finding his voice again, your heart flutters hearing Choso’s whines. Choso is forever your good boy despite him downright dominating you in the moment.

“Y-You can cum b-baby, but you gotta s-stop Cho– Shiiiiiiit– Let’ssss take off your c-cock ring firs–Fuhhhhck!”

You’d never seen Choso this worked up. On any other occasion he would already have spurt his hot load into your cunt by now. However, with the cockring on and his blood manipulation technique flowing through him, he showed no signs of slowing down even if he did desperately want to cum. The way Choso was pistoning his cock into you was like he wanted to stab it past your cervix and into your womb.

“AHHHH shiiit not yet, s-so warm, s-so wet Y/N wanna be inside you longer. Don’t wanna leave you yet Mommy.”

Pressing his palms into the backs of your knees Choso keeps you spread open for him as he continues to drill his cock into you. Reaching up you intertwine your hands into his buns bringing his face lower and sticking out your tongue to welcome him into a messy kiss as you feel your next orgasm approaching. You were losing yourself quickly to his bruising pace, feeling yourself begin to slip away into your high.

“Y/N, the gun ain’t in the– Woah.”

Entering the room, still in search of his gun, Toji is taken aback at the scene. He expected to come back into the bedroom to see Choso crying into your pussy, not destroying it.

Howling with laughter, Toji is very amused at the scene to say the least.

“HA! I thought it was gettin’ noisy in ‘ere, I see why.”

Toji had to admit he was a bit impressed, didn’t know the little cuck had it in ‘em. Although, upon close inspection Toji winds up shaking his head.

Of course the lil emo boy was still crying, even when murdering pussy.

Any respect Toji had gained for Choso in the moment is gone again just as quickly.

“Looks like the puppy has a bit of dog in ‘em after all.”

You eventually notice Toji after your orgasm hits. The repeated g spot stimulation from Choso’s piercing and cockring has you squirting hard. You break your kiss with Choso and turn your head to the side directing Choso to attack your neck rather than lips so you could breathe again.

Toji is still chuckling, an amused smirk plastered on his face as he saunters back towards you not missing the pleading look you’re giving him.

Choso was clearly out of control.

However, spotting his gun and holster from under the bed, Toji shifts his attention. Snatching it up before sparring you another smug smirk and making his way out again.

You call after him but are immediately rebuffed.

“Nuh-uh Y/N. Ya wanted to let him loose, he’s ‘your baby’, remember? Y’er capable of handling it from here, right ‘mommy’?”

You would flip Toji off as he left but your hand is jerked back as Choso flips you over onto your belly, still inside you. Only thinking with his cock you aren’t sure if Choso even registered Toji had even been in the room.

Now in the prone bone position, cockring still on his dick, Choso resumes clapping your cheeks while slobbering confessions of love and adoration for ‘his Mommy’ into your neck.

Not showing any signs of slowing down, at all.

Fuck Toji, you’d never let him goad you into teasing Choso like this again, that was for damn sure.

.a/n ༄ idk if anyone was calling them Choji before but was on a discord call and meant to say 'Toji' and 'Choji' came out and so now it's what I'm rollin' with idc idc lol.

.reblog ༄ but likes and comments are also appreciated ty!

2K notes · View notes

potato-lord-but-not · 3 months

Text

ok humor me here- chnt au where mostly everything is the same except it takes place in the magnus archives universe ?? and yk I’m open to community speculation and yall adding on to this because I need more opinions !!!! unhinged ramblings under read more :^)

ok ok so camp here & there is a site that’s run by The Spiral, everything outside of that is practically normal, but the camp makes everyone believe that the events that go on here are actually not that weird. It could also be a place where the bridge between the fear entities and earth is thin, so that’s why there’s a lot of activity from several different entities.

At least once a counselor mentioned “why do we keep working here every year?” And Soren was never actually fired, which just adds fuel to the fire tbh.

Most of the counselors there are just marked by the spiral, but others are marked by different entities. Some might not be full on avatars yet, but still posses supernatural qualities (like Oliver Banks until his death). Rowan is an Eye avatar, and although it’s made a point that the eye can’t really see the future, that just makes Rowan’s situation that much more worrying. Soren, ofc, is an avatar of The End. Self explanatory. Jedidiah mighhhttt be Web aligned, or even The Lonely (now that I think about it he most definitely is the lonely in someway) but I’m not entirely sure what to do with him yet. Adam is a Flesh avatar, and maybe one of the only ones who actually knows he’s an avatar (besides maybe Soren and Lucille). Elijah seems like an End avatar, with him being overly obsessed with making sure Sydney stays asleep for the greater good of humanity. His trying to sacrifice Sydney was an attempted End ritual, and would’ve most likely failed w/o intervention bc Sydney hasn’t been marked by all the fears yet.

Sydney is this au’s Jon, he’s being led into the position of the antichrist by Lucille, who is The spiral avatar. So far Sydney has been marked by the spiral (working at chnt), the end (Soren, the gravediggress, and the mold), the hunt (… the hunt), the flesh (Adam), the corruption (the hive incident), the eye (the bonfire, Rowan), the lonely or the web depending of which Jed aligns with more, andddd I’m sure others that are slipping my mind rn.

Jed (more than likely on accident) cemented Sydney as an Avatar after he killed and reanimated him, and Sydney is able to stay fit at the camp bc he feeds off the unhinged Spiral energy it creates. I also think Sydney was marked by The End at an early age, and that’s why he was chosen to be the sacrifice by Elijah (even if he doesn’t realize it) and why he’s very into death and decay.

The Magnus Institute DOES exist in this au, and they (Jon n the gang) find out about this camp due to a tired looking young man who convinced his slightly unhinged boyfriend to make a statement with him about the strange place they work at over the summer (ps Juniper is Very spiral aligned, more so than the rest of them, thinks that the camp is actually pretty normal and doesn’t know what Rowan is going on about, and seems to live in a place that Jon later finds out doesn’t exist at all)

ummmm I think that’s it for now, let me know if you have anything to add or silly thoughts about it ??

#sorry I’ve been pondering this for a bit n I NEEDED to get it out #also don’t think Jed is in on Lucille’s shenanigans. he just really loves his boyfriend #camp here and there #chnt #chnt fanart #ch&t #sydney sargent #rowan chow #up and adam #elijah volkov #jedidiah martin #soren baltimore #juniper sloan

413 notes · View notes

majorxmaggiexboy · 2 years

Text

Also Jake is not bad or evil Jake is the old yeller of the situation

#We had Jake Lockely for less than two minutes and I would die for him #It's the way he kicked the wheelchair for no reason #The energy of a man who has been awake for six days straight and has deadlines #He's the crisis manager and it shows #My headcanon is that he pretty much embodies that two thirty in the morning vibe #Y'know when you're finishing a paper or something and slowly forgetting the concept of time and shapes #Just. Absolutely handling business but ever so slightly (slightly now that's important) Unhinged

1 note · View note

evilminji · 7 months

Text

Okay, you know how City Spirits are a thing?

And Superheros both Die, Un-Die, Re-Die, Dimensionally Sorta Maybe Die But Then Don't, and also never Died in the first place? And probably do at least a portion of that in Medical? While ALSO hanging out, quantumly maybe Dead, maybe alive, in their Super Cool Clubhouse?

Which is ALSO exposed to space rays, the entirety of The Magic Club, weird alien Technology, aaaaand whatever they decide to store on it??

I'm just SAYING...

For as long as dwellings Of Significance have existed, there have been house spirits. They are the IDEA of the house. The SIGNIFICANCE of it. What makes it HOME. The weight of the halls that turn into Halls. And The Watchtower? Is KNOWN to enough people, to have SIGNIFICANCE.

It's a HALL where Heros Live. A Place Of Safety. It GAURDS.

It is also inanimate. Steeped heavily in every sort of energy, be it magic or science, and multidimensional fuckery imaginable. But? Not SENTIENT. Yet.

Until of course... this new fangled Anti-Ghost Shield comes out. By the new and recently no-longer on the run (from the Goverment they're at war with) Dr.'s Fenton! Why were they are war? Don't worry about it!

They Won.

Unrelated! Never threaten their kids. They WILL find you. Not a threat, just informing!

:) :)

The security guy they sent to the expo was from Gotham, unfortunately. So he found the couple to be completely normal. They? Should not have sent Thomas. He was hired BECAUSE his parents were Mad Scientists in the making. Batman was steering him away from a life of crime. Thomas could judge "normal" from "deeply unhinged" if it belly danced infront of him, in the seduction dance of a thousand, deep fried, mackerel.

It's his version of face blindness. Great with technology though! And the shield worked a treat. Even promised to be both ethical AND programmable! Not harming the ghosts it pushed out unless they try to force entry AND allowing them to program in exceptions. Allowing Heros such as Deadman to freely enter!

Is it a little janky looking? Yeah. But if it works, it works. They add it to the systems and flip it on.

One small and immediate problem. There is now a small knight shaped child in the engine room. She was NOT there a second ago. She has controlo of the ENTIRE Watchtower, claims to BE the Watchtower, and knows all their names. Knows a disturbing level of information about every employee on the Tower.

Oh and apparently "No one is leaving."

No one panic! Just unplug the... she has swallowed the ghost shielding unit into a wall. Slightly panic.

Panic lite.

Luckily, no one is willing to throw the first punch at what appears to be a small child. So the JLA Dark have a chance to literally run over.

They demand to know who's bright idea it was to add... "ectoplasm"? Was THAT the energy source? Oooh. Their departments probably in trouble. Later though, the hero's are trying to negotiate with a small child. Who is apparently a ghost.

It's not SAFE, she's insisting. Everyone has to stay HERE where she can protect them. From the nebulous threat of Bad Guys. They LEAVE and come back HURT. She is UPSET and everyone is going to STAY! Forever!

Not good.

Then Thomas pipes up, like the oblivious asshole he is, that he should PROBABLY call the engines makers. They did mention something a long these lines might happen.

WHAT.

You think, Thomas? Might be a good idea, maybe? Just a bit? YES FUCKING CALL THEM!

(All right, all right! No need to YELL! *ring ring* 'Ello? Maddie? Sorry to catch you at dinner-)

So now? There is a glowing college student, who was escorted here by a WEREWOLF, who just? Tore open reality? To some green, swirling hellscape? And popped through like "sup, sorry I'm late. Was in a council meeting!" And judging by the ficking CROWN and the various quietly panicking magic users, he probably didn't mean student council, and just?

Guess he's hear to talk to their newly sentient Tower.

Question! Asks Thomas, of the fucking Ghost King because of course he does, are they Dads now? Or if they already have kids, Dads AGAIN? Do they have to come up with a baby name?

.......oh dear lord, the Ghost King looks like he has to think about it.

What are we gonna tell our SPOUSES!? "Hey honey, guess what I got at work today! A NEW CHILD. They're a space station!"

@hdgnj @nerdpoe @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

562 notes · View notes

akutasoda · 17 days

Note

hsr headcannon for 1k. gn reader being absolutely unhinged soulmates with Boothill (platonic) :3

wild friendships

synopsis - when boothill meets someone as unhinged as himself

includes - boothill - platonic!

warnings - gn!reader, slight crack, fluff, absolutely unhinged, wc - 436

↪maybe you knew the cowboy before he became more a machine than human, and if you did you knew just how reckless the man could bet. to you, boothill being rebuilt as a robot allowed him to become more reckless as now he could easily be rebuilt.

↪what wouldn't change however is the known fact among the other galaxy rangers that you and boothill were a nightmare together. it was a well known fact that anytime you and boothill were paired up it would end in pure chaos.

↪it was an absolute mystery on how you could perfectly match the cowboy's energy no matter the occasion. you two were like an identical pair when it came to personalities.

↪you two fed of each others energy and would always encourage the other to act out your ideas and whatever plan had been concocted. you and boothill would often be found together and the other rangers would actually be concerned if you weren't together.

↪it was quite impressive that the two of you could bounce off eachother in any situation. whether it be in a fight or not, banter between the both of you could easily flow and make light of any situation - especially teasing one another.

↪speaking of teasing, specifically in a fight you two would like to tease and comment on the others skill and complain that they weren't doing their job properly. additionally, you both knew the limits of your teasing while always having something to annoy the other with.

↪you know how sometimes someone may like to give you a shock by putting something cold on you? boothill likes to do that. he's made of metal and will take any opportunity to sneak up behind you and place his cold metal hands on the back fo your neck just to make you jump.

↪you and boothill can also find much enjoyment in talking about the people involved in your missions. boothill loves to tell you all about the people he has to hunt down and such. hhe also enjoys listening to you talk bad about those in your missions.

↪some people swear that you and boothill are siblings - they are in disbelief that you two can naturally get along well. some are even slightly terrified and will try their hardest to avoid you and boithill of you're together because they are well aware nothing good can come of you two together - although you both agree that you do no trouble.

akutasoda's 1k event

#↪♡akutasoda's 1k event ♡#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr boothill #honkai star rail boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you

236 notes · View notes

voiidlizrd · 9 months

Text

Dorm Leaders With (slightly) Chaotic Star Child!Reader

Includes:

Riddle Rosehearts, Kamil Al Asim, Leona Kingsholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Vil Schoenheit, Iida Shroud, Malleus Draconia

Note: Reader isn’t the main character Yuu, gender neutral reader, fluff!!! Fluff all around. Im feeling particularly Found Family Today. Bit of angst because why not

Spoilers: Many include the Overblots in the game so major spoilers for some!

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

You were just something that got caught in the middle of the summoning spell that lead you to Night Raven College. Upon summoning, people immediately noticed how… Odd your magic was. Well, it wasn’t like you were doing magic right off the bat trying to set the place on fire (yet), but it was the fact you didn’t even HAVE to show off your powers for them to know that it was simply chaotic in nature. To the students upon your arrival, even Headmage Crowley, they felt that your magic was a pure vortex, your aura simply radiated pure, unhinged energy that couldn’t be contained.

Your appearance was relatively normal, well, aside from the pure white color that would sometimes tint your (e/c) eyes. And how sometimes people could see a faint glow where your heart was from underneath your ragged shirt that was four sizes too big and went down to your knees.

Yuu, who was already having a mind at how they even got to this weird magic school and was told that their world was basically nonexistent, kinda stared at you for a while but also felt a little bad when they noticed how you stared at every one else. It wasn’t that you looked sad, it was more the fact you had those wide eyes and blank face, like you hadn’t even seen people in a while.

Crowley felt like he was about to pass out. Not only did a magicless human show up (along with some fire breathing cat who almost set a student on fire), but another student showed up who’s not even NEAR the age to attend college!

There was a moment of silence before Crowley simply said, “Uhm… Well…” What was he suppose to do in this situation!? Send you home, he guesses. It’s far too dangerous to have a child here, even if they had some powerful magic on par to even Prince Draconia.

Crowley kneeled down to you with a soft smile, well, as soft as he could make it from how close he was to breaking down crying. How could this even be happening at his school!?

“Hello little one!” He said. “I am Dire Crowley, the Headmage at Night Raven College. It is a pleasure to meet you…” He trailed off, giving you a hint to tell him your name.

You were silent. Blinking at him with those big ol eyes. Then, “Y/N.”

“Ah! Y/N! Lovely name.” He smiles, taking your limp hand in his and shaking it gently. You blinked again and gripped his hand.

WHY IS YOUR HAND SO WARM ITS LIKE A DAMN FURNACE. Crowley thought his hand might be on fire now from how hot your hand was, as tiny as it was, and he could hear his leather gloves even sizzling under your grip. Meanwhile you just rapidly moved his hand up and down in a handshake like his, just more violent. He wretched his hand away from your hands and tried to keep a smile but it was very strained, he was sweating as he lightly chuckled.

“Now… Uh….” He cleared his throat. “Well, unfortunately, you are very young looking, if you don’t mind me saying,”

After all, some of the students looked like they could be in middle school!

“So, I’m afraid I’ll have to send you back home to your parents, alright?”

You said nothing. He decided to take that as a “yes” to get this night over with. He put his hand on your back and lead you up the stairs to the mirror, who’s face looked down at you.

“Magic Mirror! Send this child back to where they came!” Nothing. Oh for the Sevens sake- “…Mag-“

“The Star Child has fallen.” It said simply. “It burned too bright and fell from the sky. During its fall, it ended up here. The Star has no home to speak of to go to.”

…Well shit. Even worse! The room was tense and Crowley looked down at you. You didn’t seem to be bothered but you stared down at the floor, those eyes still big but a little dimmer now at the mention of falling. And now you had nowhere to go! What kind of man would he be if he just said; “well that sucks, anyways, off you go little one!” He sighed heavily again and rubbed his temple.

“Well… That’s… Fine!” He crouched down again. “Change of plans, little one, how about you just… Stay here until we figure out a proper home for you to be in? Maybe in one of the dorms!”

He picked you up and held you up to the Magic Mirror. The Mirror hummed for a moment.

“The Star Child is very bright. Their soul is shapeless but full of light to where it is hard to see past. They suit all of the dorms, yet none at all.”

“Well… That certainly is a predicament…” Crowley mumbled, setting you down, but you immediately looked back up at him and started to crawl up his body. He almost screamed at how terrifying it was to see your tiny body basically see him as a tree and scale up him to grab on his shoulders. He was sweating bullets now. It reminded him of those kittens that basically claw their way up your leg and you can’t even decide if you want to laugh or cry in absolute fear. He was pretty much wanting to scream and cry. Those stupid big eyes staring at him.

“…Alright then.” He patted your back awkwardly. Was this your way of asking to be held!? He basically had to force you down onto the ground.

“So! Change of plans. Since I am having to deal with this magicless human predicament because no dorm suits them-“

“I have a name y’know!” Yuu yelled, but Crowley didn’t even see to notice.

“And you are in a different situation. The Mirror said your soul was unshaped but full of potential to be in any one of the dorms…” He put a finger to his chin. “Yes… Yes! Yes this will do!”

“You will be sorted in one of the dorms to learn and be molded into a fine magic user! With that aura you have, you might go so far as to be the youngest mage to ever make it into Night Raven College and learn from the best! Ooohhh I am so generous!” Crowley was gushing at his own words as he looked down at you with promise, you simply just stared at him and the others who were staring at you.

“The dorm you shall be in is…”

╔══════╗

“Heartslabyul!”

What.

No. Seriously. What.

Not only does he have to deal with a literal child, he also has to deal with these new freshmen who clearly do not understand the sacred Queen of Hearts rules! Riddle isn’t all too happy with this situation, but it here is a chance he can shape you to be a well refined student, then he will do so!

But first he has to do something about your appearance. Your clothes are partly singed at the ends and you definitely need to be freshened up! He won’t have you looking untidy.

Crowley had brought you over to Riddle, who stood calm and poised with his hands behind his back.

“This is Riddle Rosehearts, the dorm prefect of Heartslabyul. He will be watching over you and teaching you about Twisted Wonderland.”

You stared at Riddle. He stared back at you. You didn’t even blink for a whole minute, then, you walked up to him and tried crawling up his body what the fu-

He promptly yanked you off of him and your grimy child hands were gripping his robe and he was clenching his teeth as you stubbornly held onto him. He managed to get you on the ground, but he had to hold back from using his signature spell on you. This was your one time to ever make this mistake. You clearly do not understand. But he shall teach you proper manners.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. However, please refrain from ever climbing on people. It isn’t polite.”

You stared at him. “No.”

No? What do you mean ‘no?’ Huh???

“Ridley.” Huh??!!?? That’s not even close to being his name!?

“It’s Riddle.”

“Rib.”

“Riddle.”

“Dil.”

He’s about to lose it. He breathes in deep as he pinches the bridge of his nose, then, he hears your low cackling, like you’re holding back yourself from giggling too loud. He looks at you, a mischievous grin looking back at him, your eyes that (e/c) color glowing a bit white as you snicker at him. He sighs internally. Another rule breaker, he can smell it, and he’s not gonna have it. His mother raised him to be a proper man, to follow the rules and have order, and he will teach you just the same. He won’t tolerate you antagonizing him.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Now, I shall teach you the manner of ‘rules’ here in Heartslabyul. We follow the great Queen of Hearts, who ruled over Rose Kingdom with order. I know all 810 of her rules and now, so shall you. Do you understand?”

One day after coming here to Night Raven you learn that Riddle sucks the fun out of everything. As soon as you got to the dorms with the freshmen and the returning students for their new year, he immediately told you that it was way past bedtime. Something about “rule 67 of the Queen of Hearts, one shall go to bed at exactly 8:30 on a weekday.” And then today, he sat you down in the dorm lounge and brought a heavy book.

“This is what you need to learn in order to be able to go through life. Rules here are very important and it a way to maintain absolute order over your kingdom. As a prefect, it is my job to uphold the Queen of Hearts rules to a tee. Though, since you are a bit younger than the others, I’ll give you some time to adjust. But do not think I will tolerate you actively rule breaking! There will be consequences to your actions, do you understand?”

You didn’t like this one bit. You frowned with a pout, Riddle clicked his tongue at you and crossed his arms.

“Do not pout or whine. You are not a toddler. Now, open to the first page and get to studying. I’ll be here the whole time to make sure you actually do it.”

This sucks. This really sucks. You burned up so bright in the sky when you thought about the universes out there, needing to see them all, despite all your siblings telling you to relax. You couldn’t help it! You burned so bright the colors exploded and stretched beyond the infinite space. When you ended up here you wanted to have some fun! Not be forced to read these stupid rules!

Turning the page to the first rule you wanted to die. You didn’t wanna read! Also…

How did you know how to read?

Whatever! It didn’t matter. You didn’t wanna! Your face scrunched again and looked at Riddle, who looked back at you with that typical “no nonsense” look. You stared at one another for a long time.

Then you ran.

“Y/N!!”

He chased after you and you ran through the halls with speed. How were you so fast!? Sure you were a child but you’re so fast! Other students moved out of the way as you ran, cackling down the halls as you did so. Trey was making tarts for the upcoming un-birthday party when he heard those giggles come into the kitchens, your figure darting in the kitchen and then out past Riddle when he entered, red faced and panting. He was sweating and grabbed the counter.

Trey chuckled at bit at Riddle. “…going well?”

Riddle growled a bit at Trey and swallowed. That’s when Trey noticed a missing baked tart from the “test tarts” he made. That’s when Riddle gritted his teeth. How did you manage to evade him AND get a tart in the process!?

“Get back you you little brat!”

Trey didn’t mind the little theft of the tart and watched as Riddle ran out of the kitchen. He laughed a little under his breath. You were gonna be an interesting addition to the bunch.

“Y/N DO NOT BRING THAT BOOK ANYWHERE NEAR THE FIRE! PUT THAT DOWN THIS INSTANT!”

…Maybe he should help…

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You’ve been at the school for maybe a few days now and you like Riddle! You really do! Even if he is a big party pooper, he’s still really fun to mess with! Which is why you like him. You pull simple, harmless pranks every now and then. Salt in his tea rather than sugar, taking a shoe from a set pair of his and hiding it and having him chase you for it, dangling off the chandelier in the lounge and listening to Riddle yell at you while his face gets a beat red, putting glitter in his hairdryer, the works! It’s so fun messing with him and they aren’t doing damage to him, so it’s okay!

Then there’s the un-birthday day. You’ve never heard of it and it sounds like a big deal. With the dorm uniform Carter managed to get for you thanks to Crowley, you fit right along with the others! Though, it wasn’t helping that Riddle kept trying to fix your uniform. Or kept trying to check you for any of the hedgehogs you somehow keep hidden on your person at all times. You just love the little guys! Yuu was even there at the party too!

You were sat beside Riddle, mostly to stick to his side so you don’t try and cause something. Ace had walked over to Riddle and presented the walnut tart to him and things just went downhill from there with you in the mix.

“And you!” Riddle screeched during his rant, pointing an accusing finger at you. “You are nothing but a useless weed here! You do nothing for the kingdom with your stupid pranks and disgusting attitude! If it were up to me, you would be thrown out at once and left with the rest of the trash!”

You watched at the others fought against the now blotted Riddle with a slightly broken heart. By the time Riddle was finally defeated and sobbed openly in front of others, you kinda stood there in the background.

You’ve never felt this way before.

This much hurt made your chest ache inside and you began crying. You’ve never cried before. You ran off chaos and were a big buddle of energy, all full of light and little darkness in your heart without a need to feel any negative emotions. But now you were here in the world.

You sniffled a bit and rubbed your eyes, a little confused and very… sad, if that’s the word. Riddle was suddenly in front of you, standing awkwardly there, then he hugged you.

“I’m so sorry.” He said, clinging to you tightly. “I’m really sorry… I- I actually enjoyed your pranks a little! I liked when you smiled afterward. I liked when you made me chase you. It reminded me of playing outside with friends… Something I rarely did.”

“You aren’t useless at all! I didn’t mean those words at all.” Riddle frowned and almost started crying again. “I won’t be so harsh on you anymore. You don’t have to study the rules all the time. You don’t have to be like me.”

“Just… Don’t cry. Please. I don’t want you to cry because of me…”

You sniffed again.

Then you punched him on the chest.

“Your mean! I’m taking all your tarts! All your sweets! I’m taking everything from you!”

Riddle only smiled and held you even tighter while you shouted empty threats.

Since then, he’s more lenient on you. He doesn’t need to shape you to be just like him, like his mother wanted him, he can at least try to raise you the way he would want to be raised, with some freedom. Trey helps him because sometimes it’s hard to try and do something you weren’t taught to do.

“Savanaclaw!”

No.

No. Absolutely not. He has his brothers brat to deal with back at home. He does not want to deal with another brat here. He seriously wants a nap.

“This is Leona Kingscholar, prefect of Savanaclaw. He shall be looking over you and guiding you along your way!”

He stared at you with distaste. You stared back at him with those big eyes of yours. Then, you stared at his ears, which twitched, then, to his tail that lightly swayed behind him.

You then promptly grabbed it with your hands and had it in a tight grip, yanking the tail.

He hissed at you and lightly shoves you back. You stare at him. Then try to grab it again. He grabs the back of your shirt and lifts you up off your feet.

“Knock it off.”

“Are you a kitty? I’ve never seen them before.”

“I’m a lion.”

“Then you are a big kitty then.”

He sighs. He dislikes you already. He might just throw you into the care of Ruggie, the guy has plenty of siblings to speak of so he can take care of you. He seriously does not wanna deal with you, but, he has to keep you from making his form look bad. What a pain.

“Come on, brat.” He said, still carrying you by the back of your collar, which you didn’t seem to mind based on your grinning, trying to grab at his ears with your grubby mitts.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

He was just laying there peacefully in his room, the night was upon them after arriving back to the dorm. He was happy to sleep until…

He cracked one eye open and saw your glowing eyes in the dark staring back down at him. Leona swears, he started to dislike children even more. You were super creepy in the dark.

“What are you doing.” You asked.

“Trying to sleep. Which is what you should be doing. I gave you a room, didn’t I.”

The room he gave you was a vacant one only a few doors down from Ruggie’s room. If anyone should deal with you, it’s him. Please. But here you are, in front of him.

You continued to stare at him. “How do you sleep.”

“By closing my eyes and sleeping.” He groaned with a sigh and fully opened his eyes at you. “What do you want.”

“…I dunno.”

He felt a headache coming on. He turns his body over for his back to face you. You tilt your head at him and then caught eye to his tail again. You grabbed it with your hands and he immediately wanted to scratch you, but you weren’t gripping it like you hated him this time. You messed with it as it wriggled in your grasp and giggled lightly at the tail and then poked at the end, looking at it with fascination. You’ve never seen this before!

Then you climbed onto the messy bed and then started messing with his ears, which he lightly shoved your hands away, but then you went back to messing with them again.

“Stop.” He growled.

You remained silent, then lightly started petting him a bit. He huffed and sat up, grabbing you and putting you off the bed.

“Go to your room and go to sleep.”

“I don’t know how.” You said. “I’ve never slept before.”

Huh. You never slept before? Well if you are some star… thing… it sounded about right. He groaned for what seemed like the fifth time tonight and sucked his teeth and laying down on his back.

“Cmon, lay down,” he said, which you crawled back into the bed and mimicked his position, staring at him.

“Now shut your eyes.”

You shut your eyes and then waited, like he was, but nothing was happening. You felt antsy just waiting here in silence, but you kept your eyes firmly shut. Leona peaked at you and saw how you were tense, but said nothing. Eventually after a few moments, he heard you yawn and then move over to grasp at his arm. He looked at you and saw you completely passed out asleep.

Finally.

He yawned himself and fell asleep with you gripping his arm.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“YOU DAMN BRAT!”

You were giggling and laughing when you snatched away his favorite sandwich Ruggie got for him from the dining hall, running away from the botanical garden with the sandwich in hand. You didn’t wanna eat it, but you wanted to mess with him a little since you were bored.

You had been sitting on his chest for like a whole hour trying to wake him up but he’s been ignoring you. You tried napping with him to maybe get why he naps, but you got bored of that quickly.

Now you were escaping a cranky and hungry lion!

“GET BACK HERE!” You turned a corner down the hallway, pasting a bunch of students who moved out of your way, then you saw a beast man seeing Leona chase after you and tried to grab you, but you were a slippery thing and manage to dodge him!

Then you were suddenly tackled to the ground with Leona holding you to his chest as you were squealing with laughter and trying to wiggle your way out.

“Give me back my damn food.” He growled at you, trying to snatch it from you but you kept moving it away from him, even with him holding you.

Then you gave up and gave it to him. “Thank you for playing with me Leo!”

He doesn’t even correct you on his name. “Go bother someone else!”

He tried walking away, maybe hoping that you’d try and find Ruggie, but no, he looks over his shoulder and sees you happily following him.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It had been after Leona’s Overblot and you didn’t even bother to leave the infirmary to see the Magift game, whatever it was. You sat a bit away from Leona’s bed in a chair with your knees against your chest, staring away from him. During his Overblot he called you a nuisance, which, you won’t bother trying to deny you were being annoying to Leona, but it still stung a bit. Leona could tell you were off based on how quiet you are and the fact you had a certain smell about you, as if your magic had dimmed a bit and it was clear by your eyes that you weren’t glowing as bright anymore.

He sighed. He hated apologizing but he would do it if you stopped having that sad look about you. “Hey, brat,”

You looked up to him, pouting a bit. He sighed again, more agitated.

“What I said… Uh…” He swallowed his pride. “I’m sorry.”

You blinked at him and tilted your head, like a confused puppy. And looked away. “Do I really bother you…? Do you really not like me? I promise I’ll stop. I’ll be better.”

Okay now that hit him harder than it needed to.

“You don’t need to ‘be better’, not for a guy like me. Sure, you are annoying,” he watches you deflate a bit. “But… If you stopped with your antics, I’d probably get antsy just waiting for you to do something. It wouldn’t be good, especially if I’m trying to sleep.”

Well… It was something. He watches you visibly brighten in your eyes and smile at him, which makes him disgustingly warm, and just accepts it when you throw yourself on him in a big hug.

“UNKA!!!!!”

No.

Please.

Cheka runs in the infirmary with the others following him, his little body colliding on top of Leona when you moved yourself out of the way, making him groan on the impact.

“Seriously? Cheka, where is your guard? Why are you even here.”

“I wanted to see you!” The little lion beamed with a toothy grin.

Then, the little guy takes notice of you, and you stared at him. You walked over to Cheka.

“Do you know Unka?” Cheka asked.

“Mhm! He’s taking care of me. I don’t have a home!”

Kids always say some odd stuff, especially honest stuff to one another and neither of you look at all phased.

“Oh, okay!” Cheka says. “My unka is very kind, even when he’s a little grumpy! Does that mean you’re my cousin?”

“No they aren’t-“

“I dunno what a cousin is but yeah!”

“You’re not my nephews cousin.”

“I’m Cheka!”

“I’m Y/N! I’ll try to be a good cousin but I dunno how to act.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll try to lead you okay!”

“You two ARENT cousins!”

“Octavinelle!”

Well… Okay?

He doesn’t know how to feel when he goes up to you, but what he does know is that you’re radiating with some powerful energy and he desires that. Perhaps he can shape you to his own devices? Hm…

“My name is Azul Ashengrotto, a pleasure to meet you Y/N.”

You furrowed your eyes at him and he blinked for a moment at you. It was as if you smelled something off, or maybe there was something on his face. You frowned at him and took a step back. Huh?

“Uh…” Crowley coughed in his hands. “Y/N? Go with Mr. Ashengrotto!”

“No.” You said. “There’s a funny smell on him. It smells weird.”

Azul felt a little embarrassed at how you put it. Crowley looked confused and then made a soft “ah” when he snapped his fingers.

“That’s the salt water!”

You looked at Crowley. “Whats salt water?”

Azul looked baffled for a moment. You didn’t know what salt water was!? Let alone an ocean!?

“It’s like water but salty.” Azul explained. “It’s usually found in the ocean.”

“What’s the ocean?”

“It’s… Like a big… lake?”

“Whats a lake?”

Did you seriously know nothing? He was growing a bit frustrated with you.

“Come with me and I can show you.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It was like being in the glass and all around you there was blue, an array of animals swam past and barely turned to gaze at you. You stared with big eyes at what was supposedly the ocean that surrounded you. You touched the glass. You’ve only heard about the ocean from your siblings! They said that the moon liked the ocean and kept it balanced, from what you’ve heard.

And the ocean was very pretty.

“Do you understand now?” Azul asked behind you.

You looked at him. “I wanna feel the ocean.”

“You mean you wanna get in the water? I dont-“

“What’s the harm, Azul?” Jade asked with a small smile, looking down at you.

When you first met Jade and Floyd for the first time, you swore that you thought you were seeing double because you thought they were the same person! Well, up until they explained the idea of twins to you.

“Yeah Azul!” Floyd piped up, picking you up swiftly and squeezing you lightly. “Little starfish wants to explore!”

“Starfish? That’s new.” Jade lightly pinched your cheeks.

“Well the mirror did say that they were a star so they’re a starfish!”

Azul looked to Floyd and Jade and sighed. Maybe letting you swim would be okay. He has work to do so it doesn’t really bother him much.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

He had to sit in the lounge and watch you guys. Turns out you don’t know how to swim but somehow you don’t need to breathe? The first time you got in the water, you just sank to the bottom with Floyd and Jade now in their eel forms circling around you, trying to pull you up, but you just let the bubbles escape your mouth as you stared all around you, seemingly unaffected by the water or the salt entering your eyes. They stared back at you and Floyd was even more excited than before! You were just like a starfish, he was right!

Azul watched, somewhat panicked when you didn’t even bother swimming to the surface, mostly trying to flail your arms and try and follow Jade and Floyd.

“Don’t worry little starfish! We got you!” Floyd cheered, grabbing one of your arms.

“We can teach you since you’ll be around us a lot more often.” Jade grabbed your other arm.

The two hoisted you up and helped you move around in the water. It was like teaching a little fish how to swim for the first time, they thought it was adorable how your little bitty arms moved around to copy their movements. Of course, they had to go based off of how humans swam since you didn’t have a tail, which was fine. But for the most part, you were enamored by their eel form rather than trying to swim. You tried to grab their slippery tails but they moved so quick you couldn’t grab on. It was even worse when you actually got the hang of swimming a lot faster than they expected and tried chasing after them to grab their tails.

Floyd was having a blast as he pressed against the glass. “Azul! Starfish is so cute! I wanna keep ‘em! They really like us like this!”

You caught Floyd by his tail and refused to let go, climbing like a gremlin up his body and grabbing his face. His whole body was a blue-ish green color, which you thought was the most cool thing ever, and then you finally have the chance to see his teeth up close.

“See! They like me!”

“Careful Floyd, don’t squeeze too hard.”

You didn’t mind. You and Floyd were getting along great! Azul wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or… a bad thing. Both? Probably both. It’s Floyd. Who knows what he’ll teach you.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You bit Azul during homework time.

“Ow! Y/N!? The hell was that for!?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged. “I was excited being around you and I wanted to bite you.”

“Starfish!!!” Floyd cooed, picking you up and squeezing you. “You and me are just alike!”

“Yay!”

Azul is now fearful.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It had been days after Azul’s overblot incident and you had nothing to forgive him on because he never said anything to you, he mostly never really payed much attention to you since he was constantly working, which you were bored with. But even so, he was trying to change and open up more now for the better! But there was something really bothering you.

You wanted to swim with Azul!

“Azul?” You had asked him while in the lounge with him. He actually wanted to talk with you a bit more, study you a bit to know more about being a star in the first place, but you were bored with the questions mostly.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Can we swim?”

“Huh? Swim? I- I don’t think that’s…” He was worried. Sure he was trying to love himself more, he really was, after all, it’s something he has to learn to do before he could ever become whole. But there was still those lingering fears inside of him. You’ve never seen someone like him in that form.

“Please?” You looked at him with those big puppy dog eyes. “Pleaaaaaaaaaaeeeee????”

“…alright.” If it’s something you fear, it’s all the more reason to face it.

“Yay!”

You were tugging on him to get up to the tank that entered the sea around the dorm, dragging him to the water. You canonballed into the water without even bothering to get out of your uniform and poked your head up to watch Azul.

He was sweating bullets as he stepped into the water, the water engulfing his whole body until he was finally submerged. He shut his eyes tightly when he felt himself transform into what he thought was the hideous version of himself, a tentacle freak. He could practically hear the insults now.

He decided to crack a single eye open when he felt you grab one of the dark purpled limbs in your hand. You stared at it and blinked of times.

Then you bit him.

“Ow! Seriously!?”

You only grinned at him with those nasty demon teeth. He couldn’t help but smile back at you.

“Scarabia!”

Aw!!! He loves you already! At first glance, you looked like the cutest lil kid he’s ever seen! You remind him of his little siblings and he can’t help but beam at you as he approaches you and crouches to your level with eyes as big as yours.

“Hi there!” He beams. “My name is Kalim Al Asim! Im the prefect of the dorm and I guess I’ll be taking care of you!”

“It’ll mostly be me.” He heard Jalim sigh behind him.

“We can take care of them together!”

“Sun.” You suddenly said. Kamil looked at you with the same smile on his face and he hummed in question. You placed a hand on his head.

“You are… Like the sun.” You were smiling like you were talking about someone from home, where ever that was for you, and you kept patting his head, which he giggled at you and took your little hand in his.

“You’re so sweet!” He swooped you up in his arms and basically almost tried crushing you in his hug. “I like you weird star child! Come on! Let’s go to the dorms and I’ll show you around! Oo we can even have a sleepover and Jamil can make something yummy for you to eat! And then we can get to know each other, yeah!?”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Jamil almost dropped all his things as he stared at you and Kalim. How the hell did this even happen. Kalim was apparently watching you were on fire. You. Were. On. Fucking. FIRE!?

“WHAT THE FU-“

“Oh hey Jamil!”

“WHAT!? THEY- THE KID IS ON FIRE!?”

“I’m okay!” You said. “I got a little mad.”

“WHAT!?”

“We were watching a movie and they got upset at the movie, so I’m waiting until they stop burning. It’s kinda like how that weird shut-in guy from Ignihyde looks when he gets upset!” Kalim was laughing at the idea and Jamil was currently panicking. How was he okay with this!?

That’s when you stopped burning. Your clothes were burnt to a crisp and it was a miracle they weren’t ash, even more a blessing that they weren’t your uniform and rather your pajamas. But now there were burn foot marks in the floor because of your entire body being on fire. Jamil watched as you collapsed into Kalim’s arms and say that you’re better now, which Kamil wasn’t the least bit phased.

“Why didn’t you try and put them out!?” Jamil chided Kamil with a very confused and very irritated expression.

“Well, I was freaking out, don’t get me wrong!” He admitted while holding you. “My reaction was kinda like yours, except mostly crying and screaming. Then Y/N said that this sometimes just happened when their emotions get out of hand so I waited for them to calm down!”

“Kamil’s smile made me stop being angry.” You said to Jamil who felt a headache coming on as he sighed. He kinda just tried to accept what was happening.

Then you stood up and hugged Jamil, your arms wrapping around his abdomen. “I’m sorry I made you worry. And made the floor burn. And burned my clothes.”

He looked down at you, smelling the burnt fabric and char lingering in the air, and just simply sighed heavily and patted your head a little. After all, you were a little kid, even if you had some otherworldly magic in your hands and weren’t even human, despite looking like one.

“Group hug!”

Jamil can’t take this anymore.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“What was your home like, Y/N?” Kamil asked you one night before taking you to bed. It was actually next to his room, which he wanted to make sure it was so he can always help you if you ever needed him! Big brother instincts always take over.

“Mm… It was dark.” You said as he tucked you into bed. “I wasn’t alone though. I was with my family.”

“They were the other stars?”

“I think so. I’m not sure.” You looked at Kamil. “You always talk about the things you do with your family, but me and my family never done anything together. I always wanted to play, but there was nothing to play. We were always just… there.”

He felt sad for you. You weren’t showing any sadness since you didn’t understand how to express it, but he could tell that you were feeling something deep down based on how you were staring at him. Envious? Upset? All of the above? He couldn’t be sure, but it made him sad.

“But Im here. In this world. I can’t go back to my family and that’s fine.” You said. “Because I have Kamil and Jamil.”

He felt his heart clench in his chest and he wanted to start crying. He felt warm as you smiled at him.

“Kamil is like the sun. And Jamil is like the moon. It reminds me of home and I’m happy!”

Kamil burst into tears and grabbed you, holding you close to his chest and sniffling and sobbing with snot running down his nose.

“You are the sweetest kid ever! I’m never letting you go! We’re gonna be together forever, I demand it!”

“Pomfoire!”

Oh……

Ew.

That was probably the very first thing he thought when he caught a glimpse at your ragged clothes. How you walked around with that mangy shirt made him look you up and down with slight distaste. Although, despite your lack of fashion, you had some hope in your appearance. With a bit of help, you had some hope.

“This is Vil Schoenheit. The prefect of Pomfoire. He is an expert in potion making! With his expertise, you’ll be a master in any art in no time!”

All you can think of is that this guy is very purple. Maybe that’s his favorite color. You’ll probably call him a fruit at some point. Vil crossed his arms as you stared up at him. The two of you had a staring contest for a while before Vil sighed and grabbed your arm.

“Come on, potato.”

“I am not a vegetable.” You said as he pulled you. “Val.”

“It’s Vil. It’s not that hard to say.”

“Whatever you say, Allen.”

“Dimwit.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Don’t. Eat. It.”

“But it smells good!”

“Do not eat it you idiot!”

Vil was trying to get you dolled up currently in his room. He had you sitting at his vanity with a large majority of makeup products that appeared high class in quality. He had gotten you out of those rugged fabrics and into the dorm uniform that was your size. Now he was busy styling you with a bit of a light blush and maybe some gloss. After all, you were still a child, he didn’t want to cake your skin in the products that could possibly damage your skin, it would just look terrible.

Unfortunately, the gloss he had smelled good to you and you kept trying to lick it off your lips to eat it. He was beyond disgusted. Nasty child.

“Stop that!” He said, lightly tapping your head to scold you. You pouted at him.

“But it smells good.”

“It won’t taste good, just like the soap you tried to eat when taking a bath.”

“It lied to me.”

He sighs, very annoyed. He decided to just skip the blush and just use chapstick.

…

“STOP TRYING TO EAT IT.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Ask anyone in NCR and they would insist that Vil despises you. He complains about you constantly annoy him and that you are a thorn in his side, along with other insults he could think of, mostly describing you a nuisance.

Others are very convinced he hates you, but, it’s actually the opposite.

He ADORES you.

Sure, you’re annoying at times with your constant pranks and always being glued to his side, but that’s not to say he hates it or you for it. When someone asks him if he does hate you, his confusion and irritation is clear.

“What gave you that idea?”

Well… He doesn’t exactly make it obvious he cares about you. His care for you is subtle if you aren’t actively trying to look for it.

“Vil can I have that burger thing in the dining hall?”

“Absolutely not. It’s very greasy and you could break out into pimples and ruin your complexion.”

You stare at him. You liked the fruit salad Vil introduced you to because it was sweet and nice, though you didn’t understand the salad part, there wasn’t any vegetables. But you also wanted to try other foods! You’ve never eaten before cause you never experienced hunger until you fell. Although, you haven’t gotten use to a solid form ever since your fall, nor the feeling of hunger. Some days you don’t feel hungry or feel any drainage like normal humans do when they experience it.

The first time you told Vil that you were hungry he asked when the last time you ate. You said;

“What day is today?”

You swore his face turned white as a sheet. Now he keeps a keen eye on you to maintain a proper eating schedule! He does take into consideration of your body type and shape, all people process food differently, but for you, you aren’t exactly human, fae, or any other creature he’s seen or studied, so he keeps a little snack on him at all times, just to make sure you get some food in you. You’re a growing star child and he’ll be damned if you don’t take care of yourself!

Another subtle thing people don’t look out for.

Vil eventually caved a let you have the burger, though. You devoured it in ten seconds flat.

“Calm down or you’ll-“

You started choking and he sighs. He’ll scold you later.

Another thing people rarely see is that he’ll kill everyone if someone insults you or hurts you.

There was a time a Pomfoire student laughed at you when a potion blew up in your face after you added random shit into the caldron. It didn’t hurt you or turn you into something strange, but it didn’t almost burn bits of your hair…

Vil heard the cackling as he was scolding you and then snapped his head over to the student.

“Is there something you want to add.”

His glare was terrifying and any word other than “no prefect” would probably make him want to turn them into a toad.

He’ll kill everyone and then himself if harm ever comes to you. That’s a promise, no matter what complaints he has.

“Ignihyde!”

He has a hundred PowerPoint slide on why he is the LEAST qualified person to do this. He still holds a belief that he is the worst brother in the world after what happened to Ortho and he can give a long, long list of reasons why he cannot possibly take care of a kid.

Now he looks at you through the floating tablet on his screen and bites his nails nervously when you stare back.

“On the otherside of this tablet is the prefect Idia Shroud! The prefect of Ignihyde.”

“Nice to meet you…? I guess.” Idia mumbled out.

You visibly perked up and suddenly snatched the table into your hands and stared at the screen. Now Idia has full view of those big eyes of yours and it isn’t something he enjoys. He almost screeches when you grabbed the tablet.

“Please let go of the tablet!” He said. “You’re gonna damage it or- or something! Just let it go!”

“You aren’t a person?”

“I am! I just didn’t wanna come to the ceremony in person, so I’m using this tablet to watch…”

“Oh.”

You didn’t understand but that’s fine. It was glowing a pretty blue and you wanted to look at it up close anyways, even if the man was trapped in the metal square.

“Hello!” Ortho came up to you and gently urged you to release the tablet from your hands. Idia almost sighed in relief. He didn’t wanna imagine what you’d be like in person. “My name is Ortho Shroud! My big brother is Idia Shroud!”

You stared at the boy, who was very cheerful. You tilted your head and then poked his metal shoulder. “You are metal.”

“I am! My brother designed this body for me!” Ortho said. “He is very talented and smart! Even if he doesn’t think so.”

“Ortho…” Idia’s hair was already turning pink from embarrassment.

You continuously poked at Ortho’s metal body, sometimes even knocking on it, which he didn’t seem to mind. He was giggling at you and grabbed your small hand in his, leading you out of the ceremony hall.

“Come on! Let’s meet my big brother!”

“Ortho! Wait I’m not mentally ready! Abort! Abort!”

“It’ll be okay!”

“Ortho!”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Idia hated this. No seriously he hated this so much.

As soon as you saw him, you wasted no time and suddenly scaled his body like a damn rat, which he let out a girly screech at, and now is stiff as a statue as you poked and prodded at his blue, fiery hair.

Meanwhile, Ortho was giggling at your antics. He really liked you! He’s never seen a kid who looked around his age before!

“Ortho.” Idia managed to croak out while sweating bullets. His personal space is being invaded! He does not have the items for this!! “Help your brother. Please.”

“They’re just curious big brother!” Ortho said. “I think they really like your hair!”

“Please… Please Ortho.”

You were messing with his hair with odd fascination then you suddenly moved away from him, which he sighed at and tried to relax, but you were still clinging onto him.

“Can you… Like… Get off me please.” He tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace.

You stared at him and then just slid off of him and onto the floor, looking around at your surroundings. Idia was still trying to recover from a little gremlin child climbing into him and invading his space and messing with his hair. Ortho lightly patted his brothers shoulder, but still looked to be smiling.

“I thought I was a goner…”

“It’s okay big brother, as far as I can see, you’re perfectly alright!”

“No seriously… I thought I was going to encounter the game over screen for a moment… this isn’t fair… Why me!??”

“It’s alright! I’ll make sure that Y/N doesn’t get into any trouble while we’re in school!”

You were searching around his room and suddenly grabbed one of his figurines.

“HEY PUT THAT DOWN!?”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Idia has come to the conclusion you were a total noob. Over the course of a month, he’s gotten use to you and even started liking you a bit! He’s still a bit weirded out by you and your need to constantly try and scale him like a tree, but he’s gotten use to it by going stiff. He also calls you a noob because you have a weird fascination with his technology, like you’ve never seen it before. Which you haven’t. Hell, even hun starting up his computer makes you go wide eyed. It’s so funny to him! There were times where he was like that when he was younger, but, he has grown up around technology so he doesn’t really completely understand your reactions.

Either way, they’re funny. He loves them.

He’s trying to teach you the basics of tech and what to avoid, after all you’re still a little baby in his eyes. He’s also introduced the idea of games to you, but mostly the ones that aren’t gorey and have a fantasy feel to them.

“Use this button to slash the enemy’s and basically interact with things.”

“Ok.”

“And use this to jump.”

“Ok.”

“Now go forward and try killing that mob with your sword! Oh and make sure to dodge.”

“Ok.”

…

“I died.”

It was a level one mob…

Now if you were anyone else he’d make fun of you and call you a normie, but…

He pats your head. “It’s alright, we all start somewhere. You did good! Let’s try again and try to copy what I do, okay?”

You seemed more happier when Idia pulled out a two player open world fantasy game knowing that you could play together than just doing it on your own. He’ll make sure to buy more of them, then!

“Diasomnia!”

They had forgotten to invite Malleus yet again to the ceremony, so Lilia had to come in his stead. So when Lilia saw you, he was surprised to hear that you’d be in the care of Malleus, though, not that surprised since you radiated this aura about you that gave off high levels of magic in you, it did remind him of Malleus, in some way.

If someone asked Lilia; “would you take in another child under your care?” Lilia would probably say no. Raising two boys was good for him and he’s proud of that.

“This is Lilia Vanrogue. He is not the prefect Malleus Draconia since uh…” Crowley coughed into his fist when Lilia gave him his signature smile, but with a glint in his eyes that told him to stop talking. “But he shall take you to Prince Malleus and introduce you to one another!”

When you looked up at him with those eyes, those big eyes with little thoughts behind them, he instantly threw any sense of self out of the window and caved.

Well, one more child to take care of wouldn’t hurt!

He crouched to your level and smiled sincerely, “hello there, young one. I am Lilia. It is very nice to meet you.”

You blinked at him and stared at him for a while. You then approached Lilia to move his hair out of the way and show his ears, messing with the pointy tips of them and even trying to yank them. He chuckled a little at your antics and grabbed your hand lightly to stop you.

He hoisted you up into his arms carefully and had you in his grip. You didn’t seem to mind at all, mostly trying to get as his ears again.

“I think we’re going to have a nice time, little one! Malleus is sure to love you.”

You said nothing and had the urge to eat his hair.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Welcome back Lilia!” Boomed Sebek as soon as Lilia entered the door.

Silver roused up from his light nap on the couch and eyed the little child in his arms, which caught his attention. Malleus had appeared when Lilia returned, obviously wanting to hear about the new students in their dorm, but clearly by the look of the child, it would be different this year.

“This is Y/N! They appeared so suddenly during the ceremony. Apparently they are a fallen star.” Lilia explained. “Burned too hot and fell from the sky, poor thing.”

You didn’t seem all too bothered and immediately looked at Malleus, specifically his horns. Sebek had begun his praise to Lilia on how generous he was to let you, a child, into their dorm, but stopped once you crawled your way down Lilia and approached Malleus without care.

He looked down at you.

You looked up at him.

You both engaged in a staring contest without even blinking, it was really uncanny. There was silence for a moment.

Then you started to crawl up Malleus.

“WH-“ Sebek almost choked on his spit as you just nonchalantly climbed up the Prince like the weird little baby you were.

You stopped and looked at Malleus’ ears, tugging them for a moment. Lilia was stifling his laughter, pressing a hand on Sebek’s chest to keep him back or burst out to say something and scold you or try and take you off Malleus. Silver was just blankly staring, probably not even understanding what was going on, thinking maybe this was just a fever dream. You moved your hands to Malleus’ horns, grasping at them lightly. Your eyes widened and then… Shook his head. As if testing if they were really attached to him.

Sebek almost had a stroke.

Lilia snorted.

Silver has long since checked out.

Malleus stopped your shaking. In that silence, he calmly patted your back awkwardly, grabbing you and setting you down.

“Aren’t they a charmer?” Lilia laughed as you ran up to Sebek and tried to climb him next.

He almost screamed as you clawed at his shirt. “BAD STAR CHILD! BAD! LILIA!”

“Alright little one,” Lilia picked you up with his hands under your arms and held you in front of Sebek. “What did you want from Seb?”

“LILIA! THEY ARE CLEARLY UNHINGED IN- IN SOME SORT OF MANNER! THEY CLIMBED THE YOUNG MASTER LIKE HE WAS A TREE! THAT IS BEYOND DISRESPECTFUL!”

“But their just a baby.” Lilia cooed.

You reached your greasy grippers to Sebek’s ears. They weren’t pointy! You blinked and then tried to grab his mouth because you saw his pointy teeth, that’s when he almost hissed at you.

You wiggled your way out of Lilia’s hold and found your next victim to be Silver. He didn’t even bother to stop you in anyway as you climbed him and caught his ears in your hands. Not pointy either. And his teeth were dull too! You grabbed his cheeks, stretched them a bit, and poked them. He blinked at you.

“Do you mind.” He yawned.

You stared back at him and then grabbed his hair. It was a very strange color and you liked it. That’s where he drawed the line when you tugged and set you down.

“Lilia, you said their name was Y/N?” Malleus finally spoke. “And a fallen Star? I’ve never heard of such a thing.

“Yes, I thought so as well, but there are plenty of surprises this year. A magicless human was also enrolled at NCR, supposedly.”

“Interesting.”

“Lily.” You pointed at Lilia. Sebek was about to burst a blood vessel.

“YOU CANT CALL LILIA-SAMA ‘LILY’! THATS NOT HIS NAME!”

“No no, it’s alright. I quite like it. Thank you little one!”

You then looked at Sebek. “Beckie.”

“THAT DOESNT EVEN RELATE TO MY NAME???”

Then to Silver. “Sil.”

“WHY DOES HE GET A NORMAL ONE!?”

Then you look at Malleus. “Mal-Mal.”

…

“Okay.”

Malleus was never more confused in his life but he laughed a little anyways at your nickname. It was very cute and very unlike anyone who’s been around him.

Sebek has long since given up on you, deciding that there was little hope in trying to stop you. Silver likes you because you gave him a sensible nickname and you’re alright so far. And Lilia already loves you! He’s a father of three now!

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Mal-Mal.”

“Yes, beastie.”

“Look what I can do.”

Malleus looked away from his book at you. The two of you were suppose to be studying magic together under the watch of Lilia, with Sebek following and Silver just wanting to see what you can do, after all he was curious.

You’ve proven yourself to be a bit of a firecracker when it came to showing off your magic. By that, it simply meant your magic was very uncontrollable and a simple light spell could possibly render someone blind, so Lilia wanted to make sure you didn’t get yourself hurt.

You held out your hand and then…

A burst of light suddenly burned their eyes, white fire, probably hotter than anything, burned at your entire arm. Sebek was losing his mind in fear that you were going to hurt yourself and possibly Malleus. In a blink of an eye, it stopped, and in your hand was a little flower in your hands. It was transparent and firey. Around your feet there was singes in the floor from when your whole body heated up. You offered the flower to Malleus.

“For you.”

He blinked at you and tried to take the flower from you, but it quickly disappeared.

“Oh.” You said, dropping your hand.

“That’s alright, little one.” Lilia came to your side quickly, wanting to console you as his fatherly instincts took over.

“Be careful next time!” Sebek had said. “You could have burned the whole dorm to ash!!”

“I doubt they would do that, Beckie.”

“SILVER!”

Malleus decided to use a bit of his own magic to make his own flower in his hand, a little bit like yours, but instead a small black lily and handed it to you, which you took gently.

“Do you like it, beastie?”

You nodded. “I’m gonna keep it forever so I can remember to make a lot of flowers for Mal-Mal.”

Malleus swears if anyone hurts you, he’s gonna kill everyone and then himself.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

With Yuu, there is Malleus. And with Malleus, there is you. You always like to come with Malleus on his walks, it’s very nice, especially seeing the weird dormitory that looks ready to collapse. You like asking Yuu all sorts of questions.

“What’s it like being flesh and blood.”

“…uh…”

You like Yuu.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #found family #x reader #platonic #twisted wonderland riddle #twisted wonderland leona #twisted wonderland azul #twisted wonderland idia #twisted wonderland kamil #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland vil #twisted wonderland malleus #fanfic #x you #fluff #child reader

571 notes · View notes

ijustthinkhesneat · 2 months

Text

I feel compelled to expand upon the previous fae/folklore! Batboys headcanons:

-Bruce is just a straight up normal human. I think this provides a great opportunity for angst because unlike his immortal? children Bruce does age and it terrifies them. And Bruce is young he’s in his early 30s but like his knees will crack a little or his back is slightly stiff after a bad patrol and it just sends them into a spiral because they cannot fathom their dad not being around forever. I can definitely imagine them trying to strong arm Bruce into becoming some flavor of unaging. You could go super dark or just more generally emotional angst but damn the possibilities.

-Cass is giving me shadow person. Very cryptid of her. I’m not sure that I have a clear backstory for her worked out yet. Either magic gone wrong or she’s another flavor of undead like Jason and Tim. I like to imagine she just hovers over people at night to be creepy.

-Originally I wanted to say Duke was a Will-o-the-wisp. But I’m not really sure it fits, especially since he’s primarily active during the day. Then it hit me. Mothman. My lamplight boy is a moth creature. I like the idea of him hiding his little antenna under a beany and wearing sunglasses. The wings would be difficult. But my boy is creative.

- I think Steph and Barbara are also human like Bruce they just are extra bad ass.

-Coming back to life as a magical creature warps peoples memories and emotions from both the trauma and changing into something not human. Tim is significantly less effected than Jason, at least outwardly, because he was only a toddler when he died so he didn’t have many memories or experiences to draw from, but Jason was super volatile. His memories surrounding Willis became even more dark while his memories of his mother sort of glossed over her absentee parenting and drug use. Jason can’t help but struggle with associating the negative learned experience he had with his first paternal figure with Bruce. Jason ends up going to live with Talia for a while because he doesn’t want to feel that way about his dad anymore.

-Basically I think Jason, at least mentally, is the most human of Bruce’s kids besides Damian because he actually lived a life as a human, where as Tim changed so young that he doesn’t really know how to be anything but his extremely disturbing self.

-I think Gotham just has major ‘I do not see it’ energy. Like The Batfamily? Demons from hell. The Wayne’s? Hot neurodivergent people. Did you see Dick Grayson unhinge his jaw like a fucking snake at a gala? No you didn’t he just has a really big smile. Jason Todd??? Has scales??? Nope actually he just developed early onset Eczema and he’s really self conscious about it how dare you! Tim Drake sucking the blood of the himbo blonde boy? Everyone knows Tim and Bernard are total freaks. Cassandra Cain is your sleep paralysis demon? Honestly fair.

-It’s totally a coincidence that strange misfortune befalls anyone who threatens the Wayne’s!

-Clark is Bruce’s favorite man to sleep on so he gets a pass. I don’t know why but a midwestern spin on the story of princess kaguya lives in my head rent free. Like Martha Kent is just shucking corn and then boom baby in the corn. We call that children of the corn. I still love to imagine him being like so perfect that it’s high key alien, but his little sharp nails and fangies! Maybe even slightly pointy ears. And like Clark fully thinks he is human, like his parents don’t tell him humans can’t fly until he’s in kindergarten, and even then they just tell him he is special and learned super fast and shouldn’t embarrass the other kids and Clark is such a Good BoyTM that he just never uses his powers in public cause he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Like bro doesn’t learn he is adopted until he is about to go to college, he is just straight up clueless.

-Clark learns Dick is a Fae creature when Batman brings Robin to the Watchtower cause he couldn’t get a baby sitter and Alfred doing some spooky shit like dusting the mausoleum. Like Batman just slinking around but there is this super colorful child with him. And then Dick turns and smiles and it’s just so wrong, like his mouth just stretching his face like some horror movie shit. Clark almost shots himself cause like what the fuck. Bruce told Dick to just ‘be himself’ so like he just thinks he’s being friendly. Despite being creepy as all hell Clark kinda thinks Dick is super adorable. Like was he spider crawling around the floor with all his limbs bent the wrong way while Bruce and Clark were talking? Yeah but then he just tugged on Bruce’s cape to ask for a juice box, like that’s a baby.

-Jason freaked him out in a different way. Since Jason is undead he doesn’t have a heartbeat and doesn’t need to breath so when he isn’t moving he makes literally zero noise. When he first met Clark he was just watching him from around corners and behind stair banisters and Clark was convinced he was losing his mind and hallucinating the kid from the Grudge. Then Bruce is just like “Oh you met Jason! He’s so sweet, just a little shy. He’s my second oldest! I think he likes you though.” And then a little grey blue slightly webbed hand just reaches around the corner to give a little wave and boom Clark would kill for him.

-Tim is similar in that Clark has trouble pinpointing his location because of a lack of normal bodily functions, but Tim has no idea what a boundary is. So like at first he’s a shy little toddler and then that night he’s crawling all over Clark and pranking him nonstop.

-Damian is a baby but like Clark looked in his eyes and just felt like this infant could see his past present and future and was judging him heavily. Clark was relieved cause at least he had a heartbeat.

-Cass lives to fuck with Clark. She’s Jason’s age but not only has no heartbeat and doesn’t breath, when she is in shadow form he can’t see her with X-ray vision. She can literally make herself undetectable to Superman. He learns this one night sleeping in a guest room at the manor. He gets the feeling he is being watched but can’t find anyone. Then right when he relaxes her arm shoots out from the darkness under his bed and grabs his leg. Clark screams so loud it cracks the window. And then just nearly silent muffled laughter as the arm retreats into the darkness. He X-Ray visions but nothing is there. He demands to stay in Bruce’s room after that. Bruce is just like “Oh that was just Cass. She likes playing practical jokes, she is my little princess!”

#batfam #bruce wayne #jason todd #batman #dick grayson #damian wayne #dc batman #tim drake #red hood #nightwing #red robin #robin #fae!dick #Fae!batfam #Folklore!batfam #freaks all of them #but like hot freaks

153 notes · View notes

lotr-bitches · 6 months

Text

unhinged Fëanorians AU headcanons

idk if this is even an AU or if they’re just like this

Nelyo: - Loyal - The diplomat - Actually goes fucking crazy after Thangorodrim - Gives off genuinely the most terrifying energy - Calculating af - Will manipulate the shit out of you - He doesn't look insane but then you get to know him and... - Lowkey a cult leader (??) - His followers are also ✨batshit✨ Kano: - Lowkey the most powerful - When he sings you think 'avenging angel' - Not as dramatic as you would think - Has a conscience - 'I will make them in my image' energy with Elros and Elrond - Surprisingly cunning - Has a smile that will make your skin crawl - Gentle hands, cruel words Tyelko: - Filled with rage pt 1 - Ruthless - Backstabbing is fun for him - He loves seeing that face of realization - His laugh shouldn't make you feel so unsettled - Cult leader pt 2 - By the end even Oromë is scared of what he's capable of - Impossible to wrangle (even by Nelyo) Moryo: - Spiritually identifies with Pityo - Smart af - People try to use ósanwë on him but his mind is like a fortress - Greed(TM) - Arguably the least scary - Rumors spread that he wasn't an elf and was actually a dragon - Fëanor anti pt 1 - Used a massive fuck off axe in battle - Fox-like Curvo: - Unsettling pt idek - Conniving bitch of a man - Vaguely antisocial - Talks way less than you would think - A good father for like 10 minutes - Obsessed with lightning storms - (Has been struck by lightning) - Moves like a panther - Raises one eyebrow - #1 dad supporter Pityo: - Lightly crisp - Didn't actually die at the burning of the ships - Can no longer speak because of the scar patterns - Feral af

- Hates that Nerdanel gave him and Telvo the same name

- Would (and has) punched several of his brothers and cousins

- Spiritually identifies with Moryo

- Everyone swears he’s invisible sometimes

- Slightly better hunter

- No mercy

- Filled with rage pt 2

Telvo:

- Also feral

- Dad always mixed him up with Pityo so they switch places sometimes

- Fëanor anti pt 2

- Slightly more diplomatic

- Develops sign language for Pityo

- Uses ósanwë to talk to Pityo

- (Also they use ósanwë to swap bodies)

- Vaguely terrifying

- Gives off creepy twin energy

- Telvo is the more unsettling of the two

Tyelpë:

- When you meet him you think he’s surprisingly normal

- Eyebrow raise pt 2

- Distinctly unimpressed constantly

- Lowkey thinks it might be fun to be evil for a minute

- Sometimes filed his fingernails into points for the vibes

- Filed his canines so they look like fangs

- Elros and Elrond are his favorite cousins

- Always stealing shit

- Sleight of hand ✨king✨

#silmarillion #silm fic #the silm fandom #silm headcanons #feanorians #maedhros #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #amrod #amras #celebrimbor

375 notes · View notes

hauntlikeaghost0 · 2 years

Text

horrible timing | e.m.

eddie munson x henderson!reader

summary: it takes literally being dragged through hell for eddie to be brave enough to admit his feelings to you

warnings: swearing. general st angst. basically fluff. eddie may be a bit ooc, this is my first time writing for him.

a/n: this is inspired by the request from @bde-break-down-energy . i tried to get it as close to what you asked for but i haven’t written in a hot minute so i’m a bit rusty. really hope you like it though!

“this is so stupid. this is so fucking stupid!!” you yell out into the silence of lovers lake, angrily tearing your jacket off your shoulders and throwing it at the panicking boy behind you. nancy had followed a screaming steve into the murky waters just moments ago and robin had instantly followed her. already, the guilt of not selflessly throwing yourself in after them was eating you alive.

“no, no, no, no, no.” eddie mutters behind you, each repetition louder than the last. the boat rocking as he attempts to pace. he’s been on the verge of a breakdown since what occurred in his trailer and this was starting to feel like his last straw. quickly, he puts a firm (but shaking) hand on your shoulder and pulls you to face him. “you are not following them!”

his voice is strained, fear radiating from every part of his existence and for a moment all you can think about is how very far away this eddie is from the slightly unhinged, happy go lucky eddie you had first encountered all that time ago while dropping your brother off to his dnd game. this image almost makes you hesitate.

“i have to!” you shout back. panicking at what could already be happening right below your very feet. “if something happens to them and i didn’t even try to stop it, i couldn’t live with myself, eddie.”

he groans, rolling his eyes. why do you always have to be so stubborn? his mind begins racing, searching for something he could say to make you stay with him right now, to keep you safe. he wishes he could at least hug you, press his lips to yours and savour your presence, but he hasn’t even had the balls to tell you how he feels. he’s standing before a person ready to throw themselves into an unknown alternate dimension to protect their friends and he can’t even tell you he’s had a crush on you ever since he met you, for fear his feelings won’t be reciprocated.

you open your mouth to say something, eyes soft around the edges but face set and determined. his breath hitches in anticipation but all he’s met with is a soft smile before you’re jumping in after your friends.

at the sight your body disappearing into the unknown at the bottom of the lake, eddie’s heart breaks slightly. he’s not good at being heroic, at being brave but the second you’re out of sight he’s already moving towards the side of the boat, taking shallow breaths. he would stupid not to follow you.

as his body hits the cold water, and he forces himself to paddle towards certain danger, he remembers the first time you came to one of his shows. he remembers seeing you in the crowd, how his heart leapt as you bobbed your head along to his songs. he remembers when you sat through the end of his campaign, confusion constantly written on your face but cheering along with everyone else and complimenting his plot. he remembers the hug you gave him after finding him in reefer ricks shed, how you clung to him like you needed him too, like he wasn’t a suspect in a murder case, like he wasn’t even a freak. he would be completely stupid not to follow you.

you let out a yelp as your back collided with solid concrete, groaning and slowly moving to stand. screams echo from ahead of you and before you know it your sprinting towards your friends a measly pocket knife in your hand for protection. the sight of steve’s bleeding bare torso has you grimacing and quickly kneeling down to stick your small blade into the bat-like creature with its tail around his neck. with each monster you and your friends fend of, it seems another one appears and you worry you’re just too outnumbered.

heart hammering in your chest, you push your knife into another creature, yelping as it struggles beneath you. grunts and gasps can be heard from around each of your friends, wild curses pouring from robin. how many times will you be caught in these life or death situations before hawkins finally gets tired of torturing you?

shakily rising to stand, you free your blade from the demobats slimy flesh. head turning wildly as more beasts come into view. for a second the light of hope dims inside you, maybe we won’t make it out this time? maybe this is one supernatural occurance too far? however, lighter fluid is quickly poured over your dying flame as you see a wild head of curly hair storming it’s way towards you.

eddie grips the boats ore in his hand and you take a moment to appreciate how attractive he looks with his hellfire t shirt soaked through, hair disheveled and gaze determined before you have to snap back into action. he instantly begins smacking vecna’s guard dogs down, along with the rest of the group, and soon enough you’ve done enough damage to make a run for it.

nancy takes the lead, everyone on her heals until they reach the shelter of skull rock.

in an instant eddie is by your side, turning you to face him again and scanning his eyes over you intensely, searching for injury. you raise a shaking hand as if to say ‘ta da!’ and mutter out a quiet but resounding. “i’m fine.”

he breathes out a sigh of relief and collapses back to lean against the curve of the rock. “fuck me, i’m so glad you’re not dead.”

you laugh and follow his movements allowing your head to loll to the side and rest on his shoulder. it feels so trivial to grin at the butterflies filling your stomach as he leans his head atop yours, given your situation, but the comfort you find in his presence is enough for you not to care.

it’s hard to pin point when you realised you’d started to fall for eddie. your friendship with him came so unintentionally that having proper feelings for him felt so impossible you must have denied it for ages. maybe it was that one time he smiled at you at one of his gigs, super wide and childlike, like he’d never been happier in his entire life and you almost choked on your drink with how taken aback you were by the feeling flooding your chest. actually, it was definitely then. that when you realised you’d probably die for eddie munson.

a ring clad hand intertwines with yours and squeezes, you look up at him expectantly. he nods towards the rest of the group. “we’re moving again.”

you begin to take a step and feel eddie’s grip loosen slightly. with a pause you shift your hands together again, holding on tightly. “can you just keep hold?” you ask him quietly. “just a little bit longer.”

his heart clenches in his chest and he smiles reassuringly, tilting his head in a slight bow. “as long as you like.”

eddies mind is so thoroughly engrossed in how tender your being with him he hardly has a moment to be surprised at the fact nancy wheeler has guns. when you’d rested your head on his shoulder he’d felt his heart swell. your weight was secure and steady against him. despite him being no hero, no knight in shining armour, you still turned to him to hold you steady, to be your rock. he was proud of that. when you’d asked him to keep hold of your hand he almost cried at how small you seemed, how timid. this big personality he was so used to being surrounded by was exhausted by this battle they were fighting and under any situation he never could deny you. so he just managed to follow along as they plotted their way to nancy’s house, distracted by the security of your hand in his.

when the first earthquake hit you instantly gripped onto eddie, hands grasping his shirt as his armed wrapped around your side and you both fell to the ground, your head in his chest and his elbows in the dirt. it took a few moments for you to look up, instead keeping your eyes screwed shut for a minute your head against eddie as you waited for your chest to stop heaving. since the events of the last few years every sudden movement makes you flinch so you aren’t surprised the earthquake shakes you up a bit. eddie’s hand runs once, twice down your back. “you’re okay.” he tells you. “it’s okay.”

after that he watches you like a hawk. his hand stays firmly in yours, thumb rubbing over the back at random intervals, quick to grab a hold of you and any nearby solid object each time a new earthquake hits. he takes a moment to realise this is the most you’ve ever touched. you’ve been friends for a while but you’d never been close like this. he’d never touched the small of your back before, never felt the curve of your spine, never even wrapped his hand around your bicep. and thought this isn’t the situation he always imagined that happening he would be ungrateful not to appreciate it anyway.

as you finally reach nancy’s house some of the tension loosens in you, though maybe you’d play scared just a little bit longer if it meant eddie would keep holding you in that way. as you step over the threshold you expect to feel relief but feel a sharp shiver crawl up your spine as you see the wheeler’s warm and welcoming house being infested by the upside down.

“are you cold?” eddie’s voice draws your attention for the nightmarish scene. you run a hand down your arm and feel the scattering of goosebumps. you suppose the absolute terror had distracted you from the chill temperature.

“i guess,” you say and then instantly regret your words as you watch eddie begin to shrug off his jacket. you take a step away from him, holding a hand out to refuse his offer but he just knocks it out the way.

“don’t try and fight it.” he says stepping close and laying the warm leather over your shoulders. in any other situation, you might resist a little bit longer but the weight of the jacket is so comforting and as you slowly slide your arms into the slightly too long sleeves, you’re enveloped in eddies scent. it’s cigarettes, a hint of weed and something you assume must be sandalwood.

he pulls on the lapels so it’s tighter over your front and his eyes sparkle beautifully. “looks good on you.”

you only roll your eyes and follow the rest of the group further into the house for fear your blush will grow even brighter. however, you just make it to the bottom of the stairs when you realise eddie is no longer beside you. panic instantly rises in your throat and you turn on your heel quickly. you are forced to pause when you realise he’s still with you, stopped just a few paces behind.

“what’s going on?” you say, anxiety clear in your voice, slowly walking towards him as though something terrible was about to be revealed to you.

“nothing.” he says quickly, rushing to calm you. “nothing to do with this.” he gestures grandly to the hideous sight around him, the silver on his hands glinting in the dim light.

you step closer, pushing him to explain.

he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose (a tad dramatically). “this is terrible timing.” he says dejectedly and it’s true. this confession had been on the tip of his tongue for about a month now, growing closer and closer to spilling over each time you touched him, each time you looked at him, each time you were near him. and of all those times he chooses now. not that time he almost said it at hellfire club, or at the record store or even on stage at one of his shows. no, he finally grows the balls to tell you whilst searching for weapons to fight of monsters in an alternate dimension.

he takes a deep breath. “i …. like you.” the words drop from his mouth slowly, like they were completely foreign to him. your brow furrows, does he know you have feelings for him? is he about to reject you? tell you you’re better as friends? you open your mouth to explain but he cuts you off.

“like really, really like you. like lose sleep at night thinking about you and how much i like you.” you feel you’re cheeks heating fast and a smile forms instinctively. “not in a weird way or anything!” he clarifies. “i just think you’re so…” he searches for the word, “so beautiful. and i know your henderson’s sister and that’s kind of weird. but when i look at you i just want to smile and it’s cliche and gross and i kind of hate myself right now but…. but i’m just so, i don’t know, giddy when i’m around you.” he shakes his whole body as though to demonstrate and then abashedly brings a previously shaken hand to the back of his neck, looking up at you from under his lashes. “i don’t know” he sighs. “all i know is that if anything bad happens to one of us today and i hadn’t told you that i’d feel pretty fucking pathetic.”

you laugh. it’s a sharp, short laugh that tore through you. and you can’t tell whether it’s shock, or relief or sheer happiness that elicited the sound but it makes eddie stiffen. you fail to notice. smile so wide your cheeks begin to hurt. his gaze is steady on you, nervously awaiting a reaction.

“i really, really like you too.”

he’s right, as the words fall from your lips with timing does seem incredibly obscene but you’re too happy to care. you step towards him and raise a hand to his cheek, gripping it tenderly.

“god, eddie. i like you so much.”

his whole body seems to relax and that famous smile spreads quickly across his face. that stupidly beautiful smile that made you realise you wanted this boy to be all yours. this beautifully deranged boy.

“you do?”

eddie’s voice is shy and almost completely unfamiliar. you only nod in response, eyes taking in his every feature. now that your reciprocated feelings are clarified you want to do everything you had always imagined; like run your fingers through his hair, play with the rings on his fingers and kiss that pretty smile off his face.

naturally, you go with the latter.

due to the wide smiles on your faces, the first collision of your lips isn’t perfect. it’s a bit too teethy and you keep letting happy giggles slip through. but, after a pause to collect yourself, you press one slow kiss onto his lips, arms over his shoulders. you move to pull back but his hands find your hips and grip them tightly, pulling you back towards him. your knees weaken and your lips meet his once more. you fit together slowly, lips moulding and pulling apart, the trace of his tongue and the nip of his teeth. you have a newfound motive to make it out of this hell hole alive, if being kissed like this by eddie is what awaits on the other side.

when you finally pull apart, he smiles down at your, raising a hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

“when we get out of this shit hole, i’m going to take you on the best date of your life.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagines #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #robin buckley

5K notes · View notes

b0rninh3ll · 1 month

Text

Summary: Rollo with an opposite kind of unhinged partner who always says the most out of pocket things out of nowhere when they are alone and no one believes that they actually like each other.

Warnings:obviously English isn’t my first language plus I posted this the moment I finished it, reader is gn, reader is INSECURE, very self inserty, Rollo is decent at comforting, small injury, reader says out of pocket shit because it’s funny. Tell me to add anything if I forgot :P

Words:1.2K

Rollo groans as he wakes up from his sleep to start another day at school, he takes his phone to turn off the alarm and sees a message from his partner.

”I want to get you pregnant”

Rollo just sighed and didn’t open the message and went to the bathroom. As he was making himself coffee a specific ringtone erupted his peace, he answered the call and didn’t say anything waiting for the next surprise.

”about the preg-“

”Please seek professional help”

beep.

it’s too early for him to deal with this, he hears giggling from behind his door. Smiling to himself only, he sighed, hid his smile and opened the door with a frown only his partner would see right through, and that partner is smiling like an idiot. He had to fight the urge to smile back, he doesn’t want to encourage her behavior even if he doesn’t mind it that much.

”hey baby girl” “don’t call me that”

He smiled very slightly as he looked at them. How can someone who claims to be lazy have so much energy very early in the morning? Unless… Rollo’s smile disappeared and he crossed his arms with his head held high.

”You didn’t sleep didn’t you?” His partner flinched and looked anywhere but Rollo’s eyes, swinging side to side “whaatt? Of course I did- no I didn’t” one look at Rollo's eyes made them tell the truth, they already knew that lying won’t get them anywhere with Rollo. Especially with his very unconvinced face.

”buutt the new character was about to be released” they whined as they explained themselves, knowing at it wouldn’t change anything but trying won’t hurt “you know how long I have waited for it-“ Rollo raised his hand, noticing his partner’s worry “I’m not mad, I just don’t want you to tell behind on your studies.” He said it as a fact, not afraid to somewhat show his worry.

They looked at him for a moment before smiling, knowing even when he said he wouldn’t, he would lap them even when they didn't help themselves. They hold his arm, almost spilling his coffee with how much force they hold him. He walked around the school doing his work while his partner walked close by, his assistants joked about them being a package deal.

After classes at the student council room, Rollo was doing his work while his partner was (forcefully by Rollo) doing their homework. Saying that he's around he can help them instead of them calling in the middle of the night to help with a simple math question.

He looked to the side as he noticed the sound of pen writing had stopped for a while, he saw his partner looking down in deep thought. Not in the “if I used that weapon one that character” kind of thought but something must have happened to leave them with such expression, kind of thought.

He called their name multiple times, raising his voice every time until they answered him “what are you so in deep thought about?” He looked at them in the eyes, in a way trying to tell them there is no way of getting out of this.

They stayed silent for a moment, just looking at Rollo’s eyes. As if begging him not to open that can of worms, Rollo’s eyes didn’t give them a chance to escape, equally begging them to open up.

”have you.. heard what everyone has been saying?” Rollo frowned, he was confused. This is not something they usually worry about, they always told him not to care what others say especially when it comes to their relationship. It seems to be a sensitive topic for them, from their actions. Avoiding eye contact, stuttering, heavy breathing and biting their nails. So he tried to be patient.

”No, I have not.” He’s too busy to know or care about what anyone thinks about him or his partner. “Care to tell me?” He slowly holds their hand, to stop them from hurting themselves. Which was a little late. Their fingertips are already bleeding, he sighs and opens one of his drawers, taking out bandages and helping them.

They hissed, not enjoying their current situation. “They say I don’t deserve you” they looked away, feeling ashamed to even entertain the thought “they think you are with me because you pity me or that I’m annoying you” Rollo listened to them without interrupting, wanting to hear everything from them before speaking his thoughts. “Am I.. Too much?”.

He stopped for a second to process their question, “what do you mean?” He looked them in the eyes after finishing putting on the bandage, trying to figure them out. “You know like.. Too much to handle? Annoying and insufferable.. A nuisance?” They kept their eyes away from his, the shame killing them inside out.

Rollo knew how insecure his partner can be, but it surprised him it reached their relationship. He didn’t even give himself to think and answered them.

“no, I don’t think of you this lowly” He awkwardly tried to comfort them by holding their hand with both of his, looking around just as awkwardly to try and find his words. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here with you, right?” He’s trying his best and he knows his partner understands, to them that he’s trying is more than enough but they kept silent.

He raised his hand, to emphasize his point. “Just because you would, doesn’t mean I would” He smiled, a barely noticeable one as they laughed. They know it’s true, they didn’t have the best relationships with almost anyone in their life so they assume that everyone is like them, it’s nice to be reminded that it’s not normal.

”May I ask, from whom did you hear it?” Rollo said as he went back to do his work, wanting to get to the bottom of this situation. “Oh, will usually when we are walking or just sitting alone I tend to hear people talk” “oh so your hearing decides to be good when it’s people bad mouthing you?” At that they laughed loudly, holding their mouth to keep it down.

”I can’t even disagree on that..” They looked down and smiled a small one “I’m sorry, really. It’s just they came at the worst time” they smiled apologetically, looking at Rollo begging for forgiveness. Even though he wasn't mad to begin with “don’t worry about it,just like how you handled my worst, I’m here for yours.”

Their smile turned warm, putting their head on Rollo’s shoulder “Thank you, truly” they closed their eyes and sighed. “No problem” he smiled, knowing they can’t see it.

”so, about the preg-“ “sigh…”

….

“Did you take the pic??” “Yeah!” Two students peaked through the door, they chuckled and left the two love birds on their own. “They owe us so much money!” “Thought that was to stop the rumors so it would stop upsetting them?” “Oh yeah that too!”

One day I AM using my artistic skills to draw me getting him pregnant

Also high coms are open :3

#twisted wonderland #rollo #rollo flamm #rollo flamme #twst rollo #twisted wonderland rollo #rollo x reader #disney twst #Twisted wonderland x reader #Pregnancy jokes are so funny to me #Getting a man pregnant is a joke and a reality to me #Especially for him

102 notes · View notes

cottagecheese1 · 4 months

Text

Unhinged worlds 1

summary: A few years after your father died, your mother marries a new man, to you having a new family meant new begging's, but what happens when your new begging comes spiraling apart just because of the people that made them.

paring: dark stepdad Andy Barber x reader x dark dbf Lloyd Hansen x reader x dark stepbrother Johnny storm x reader x dark bbf Colin Shea.

warnings- (DDLG undertones) stepcest, Johnny is NOT Andy's biological father, he is the adopted son. smut, do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the following, spanking, blackmail, p in v, edging, thigh riding, oral, fingering.

Series master list right here

"Mom, you know I've never met this man before, right?", you said with a slightly worried tone, your mother gives you an exasperated sigh and walked her way over to you, gripping your shoulders.

"Honey please, I just got married, I don't understand why you can't be happy for me this once.", you wrapped your arms around her neck and hugged your mother, she was right, you needed to see the best in this situation right now.

"I'm sorry mom, I am happy for you, it's just a lot to adjust to right now.", You gave your mother a slight smile and pulled away from her.

She gave you a smile back and responded, "oh I think you'll be okay; he has a son around your age, he's adopted but I think you two would like each other."

The smile on your face widened a little bit, your mouth opened once again to speak, but came to an abrupt stop as you saw an unfamiliar man stand behind your mother and give her a slight peck on the head.

Your mother giggled slightly and stepped back to stand by the man, "Honey, this is Andy, Andy this is my daughter.", your mother said as she spilled out your name back to the man beside her.

Andy unwrapped his arm around your mother's shoulder, and walked towards you, opening his arms forward to embrace you in a hug. This caught you off guard because for someone you just met, he seemed to be a little too touchy with you, but you thought nothing more of it, thinking it might just be the way your new stepfather expresses his feelings.

"It is so nice to finally meet you sweetie, I've heard so much about you." Andy said with a wide grin on his face, as he held you a little too tight for your own comfort.

As Andy was speaking to you, nodding your head once in a while at his banter. You heard a voice faintly behind Andy come closer.

"Dad, when will you let Colin come over, I'm fucking dying too actually-who is that?", you looked to see a younger guy with a buzzcut, and light blue eyes come out from behind Andy to get another good look at you.

Andy took a deep breath and gave a slight glare to the boy who shoved past him to you "Johnny, this is-", Andy was quickly stopped in the middle of his introduction when Johnny decided to introduce himself to you first.

"I'm Johnny, Johnny Storm, but you can call me whatever you like sweets", Johnny said with a smug grin as he took a step closer to you, and you instinctively took a step back from the muscular man, mumbling out an "okay.." and you adverted your gaze down to your feet.

It seemed a little rude once you actually processed what you just said, making yourself seem passive and unwelcoming, but for some reason you just felt shy around both of these new men, men that are now a part of your family, men that you are now permanently living with.

Johnny chuckled and continued to try to keep the conversation alive, even though his father stood sternly right behind him. Andy quickly shut down his next spill of flirtatious chatter when he saw how visibly uncomfortable you looked.

"Johnny, this is your new stepsister, don't be disrespectful.", Andy said with a warning, but Johnny just nodded and shrugged him off, giving you a playful wink and walking away with a slight skip, boosting himself over the curve of the driveway.

"Sorry about him, he just never runs out of energy ya know?" Andy says with a slight chuckle at the end. You smiled slightly and gave him a nod of reassurance.

"It's perfectly fine, doesn't bother me." You said quietly before adverting your gaze from him once again.

"Well, if he does, just come tell me and I'll go talk to him, I'd hate it if you felt uncomfortable in any way." Andy said with a slightly sympathetic look on his face.

Your mother took an earful of this moment, and decided to express her love for it "Oh Andy, you're too sweet, we both appreciate whatever you do for us."

Andy smiled brightly, still keeping his eyes glued to you, "Just doing what anyone would do" he responded.

💼

After a long day of moving boxes and making conversation, your social battery seemed to run out completely, wanting nothing more than to lay in bed and finally relax. Except it was only 3 in the afternoon.

With a lot of procrastination, you finally got out of bed and decided to dig through the fridge to find something to drink, making your way to the kitchen, until you heard a knock at the front door.

Thats weird? You weren't expecting anyone, maybe it's just one of those people who give out pamphlets about polar bears for no reason.

Making your way over to the door hesitantly, deciding if you really want to stand in the doorway and talk about how you can stop global warming for 30 minutes, but there also was a chance that it was actually somebody important.

Twisting the knob and opening the door to find a decently attractive man who looked to be around Johnny's age standing patiently. He twisted his head towards you and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Well, you're not Johnny." the man said with a slight smile on his face, and you nodded in agreement before responding.

"Um, if you're here for him, I guess you can come in." you responded as you took a step back to let him enter. He chuckled, walking past you to stand next to you as the door shut.

"Thanks sweetheart, I don't think I've met you before, I'm sure I would've remembered a cutie like you", he said playfully as your cheeks heat up slightly at the sudden comment.

"I-um, no we haven't met before, I think Johnny is in his room." You responded quickly before trying to walk away.

"Wait, hold on, I didn't get your name." the man said as he chased after you slightly, and you mumbled out your name slightly, waiting for him to reciprocate the action.

"Oh right, I'm Colin." You nodded once again.

"Nice to meet you, Colin.", deciding to try and end the conversation here so you could continue scavenging for a drink.

"Ok, ok, I can get a hint, I'll see you around sweetheart." He said as he gave you a wink before walking away.

What was weird about that is he kind of acts the same way Johnny does, but maybe that's why they're friends, of course people like other people that are similar to them, you felt stupid once you actually thought about it.

💼

Once you made your way into the kitchen, finally getting one step closer to what you wanted, except Andy was also in the kitchen leaning on the kitchen counter nursing a beer that he put down almost immediately at your presence.

"Honey, you scared me, did you need something?" He said and let out a sigh of relief that it was just you.

"I came to get a drink." You responded simply, just like the rest of you, Boring and simple.

"Of course..but could I talk to you about something honey, I just want to make sure there's no tension between us." He said softly, pushing himself off of the counter and towards you.

You gave Andy a nod of reassurance to continue, settling for a bottle of water as you sat down on the bar stool, right across where Andy was standing.

"I know your shy sweetie, but I want to let you know that you can tell me anything, your mother told me about your father, and I think it's important that you have a man in your life, someone that can take care of you honey, all of your wants and needs." Andy said softly, walking around the counter to stand behind you.

Your eyes widened as he rubbed circles on your back, your mother hasn't mentioned your father in years to you. She knows it's a sensitive subject for you to talk about, you doubt that your mother wouldn't have mentioned that to Andy.

"I-um-I don't really like to talk about my dad." you said with a slight tremble in your voice as you felt your throat get tighter, and your eyes get glassy with tears.

Your father died when you were only 9 but it felt like yesterday to you. Of course, you miss him, but you would rather not talk about it then mourn him every day.

Andy saw your eyes start to water, and your muscles start to tense. He just cooed at you lovingly, his hand moved off your back and moved directly behind you to wrap his arms around your shoulders.

"Oh sweetie, I know it's hard to talk about your feelings, but I want you to trust me, so I can be a good daddy and take care of you, don't you want that?" Andy said quietly while resting his chin on your shoulder.

Lost for words was one thing, you felt dumb, talking to you like a child, but deep down you found it strangely comforting. Andy walked back in front of you and grabbed your chin, tilting your head up softly with his fingers.

"You're my special little girl, I want you to know that honey." Andy added, while stroking your face like it was the most delicate thing in the world.

Trying to avoid eye contact with him was hard because than you couldn't help but feel tears run down your cheeks, maybe you did feel like Andy actually cared about you.

Andy suddenly pulled you closer to his chest while shushing you, pecking the top of your head once in a while. Hearing a faint noise of chatter coming closer to you made your head perk up with warning, you didn't want to anybody to see you cry today, especially over something you should've got over years ago.

"Hey dad I-what happened?" Johnny said as he skipped in the kitchen nosily, Colin standing right beside him, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

Looking from Andy's chest in embarrassment, watching the three men surrounding you, well mostly two in concern. This made more anxiety pump up in your chest and suddenly you darted down the hallway to your bedroom, where you should have stayed all along.

Ignoring the faint calls for your name and shutting the door behind you. Locking it and sliding down against your wall, finally letting all the sobs you've been keeping in until now. Great, now you won't hear the end of it tomorrow. Maybe a new family wasn't such a great idea after all.

A/n: It's been a minute since I posted ya'll, but I also just had a random urge to write a series with four hot men in it. Part two will be coming soon!

97 notes · View notes

kraeki · 21 days

Text

This interview with Virgil is so entertaining and the journalist, Polly Vernon, is slightly unhinged in the best way:

Virgil van Dijk walks round the Cavern Club exuding Big Captain Energy from every pore. He raises the excitement levels of the assembled crowd of journalists and PRs and marketing managers, jollies along those who require jolliment, calms those who are a touch overexcited and loud. He listens to those who need to be heard, herds everyone in the right direction should they need to be moved, perks things up with a well-timed gag should they flag. Van Dijk is 6ft 5in with a muscular charisma only ever deployed for the greater good.

Van Dijk’s not flirty with it, mind. He has no interest in being reassured of his handsomeness or of leveraging it; just accepts it — accepts that it makes for a better shot of him playing drums on stage at the Cavern or standing in the bow of the boat that tours the docks, all of which again serves the greater purpose of the day. Big Captain Energy, see? Which should be annoying — lacking in snide edge and cynicism and all the things I value, generally speaking — except I appear to be in Van Dijk’s team currently, experiencing what it is to be captained by him, to be rallied, supported and included by him, and I gotta tell you: it feels really good.

…then he and I sit down for our interview. I only just resist saying, “Alone at last,” though this has less to do with my guiding sense of propriety (I have none) and more with us being very much not alone.

Photo: Tom Jackson

#one of us 😭#are you on tumblr queen?#virgil van dijk

64 notes · View notes

fandomchokehold · 3 months

Text

Musical Songs I Think The Boys™ Would Do a Burlesque Number To

*obviously these are only ones I've listened to, I wasn't a theater kid and don't really know much about plays and musicals, please don't be weird or mean in the notes 😭 and YES as a huge ABBA fan I know all the songs in Mamma Mia are just ABBA songs*

also this is way longer than I intended so there's more under the cut

Solos

Astarion - "Sweet Transvestite" from Rocky Horror Picture Show

this one is pretty obvious and expected but like !!! yeah !!! that's just him !!! he'd do the full routine, coming up in the elevator, throwing the cloak off to reveal the slutty lil outfit he has on underneath, throwing his drink at the audience while Gale Brad is talking, lounging on the throne, and then leaving mysteriously in the elevator OH BABY !!!

Wyll - "Land of Lola" from Kinky Boots

he would absolutely slay this routine, the lyrics are practically about him - "with arms as hard as steel" "with the moves of Fred Astaire" "I'm black jesus, I'm black mary, but this mary's legs are hairy" ??? I need this man to absolutely let loose and I NEED to see him in those cunty thigh high boots 👏 RED 👏 IS 👏 HIS 👏 COLOR !!!!

Gale - "Toucha Toucha Touch Me" from Rocky Horror Picture Show

I honestly just think he'd be really good at playing the part of the "innocent shy reserved man who does a complete 180 after being exposed to pure unbridled sexuality"; we all know he's not actually like that it's fully an act because he knows he has the looks of a tired english professor but the soul of a whore I just- you don't know how badly I need to see him doing a slightly desperate unhinged strip tease on stage on a garrish four poster bed OKAY ?!?!

Halsin - "Toxic Love" from Ferngully

I need him in his pretend villain era, I think he'd be cartoony like if he's gonna work a stage he's gonna werk a stage m'kay; he is actually using this performance to raise awareness about the climate crisis and donate the money he makes towards more accessible clean energy and environmental conservation efforts and would love to provide more info and resources while still in his g-string to all interested parties in the lobby of the venue

Duets

Astarion & Gale - "Planet Schmanet Janet" from Rocky Horror Picture Show

Astarion as Dr. Frank N. Furter, Gale as Janet; we all know this is a trademark Astarion ruse to get to chase a scantily clad Gale around menacingly and torment him in front of an audience, I mean c'mon who wouldn't want to do that 👀

Astarion & Wyll - "Does Your Mother Know?" from Mamma Mia

Astarion as Tanya, Wyll as Pepper (I had to look that up apparently his name is Pepper); I feel like Astarion would identify with Tanya on a spiritual level, they're both wine aunt cougars who love luxury, and after seeing that Wyllstarion interaction where they flirtatiously talk about their age gap this song just really is about them huh

Astarion & Halsin - "I Can Make You a Man" + "I Can Make You a Man (Reprise)" from Rocky Horror Picture Show

Astarion as Dr. Frank N. Furter, Halsin as Rocky; tbh this is just so Astarion can show off the "bounty of nature's gifts" that have been bestowed upon him and Halsin just finds how this twink is climbing him and swinging on his outstretched arm like a jungle gym too amusing to not participate

Gale & Wyll - "Horny Angry Tango" from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

either of them in either role; this is purely for the theatrics and to show off their actual ballroom dance skills, Gale is going to be the one getting dipped though

Gale & Halsin - "La Seine" from A Monster In Paris

Gale as Lucille, Halsin as Francoeur; I can't lie it's purely for the height difference that's totally canon and I didn't make up in my head, the contrast between Gale "Lil 5'8" Wizard" Dekarios and Halsin "The 6'5" Bear" Silverbough is just *chef kiss* 👌

Wyll & Halsin - "Lay All Your Love On Me" from Mamma Mia

either of them in either role; they're lowkey almost fucking on stage, Wyll chose it for the drama and Halsin went along for the overtly sexual choreography

Group Numbers

"Lady Marmalade" from Moulin Rouge

Astarion's favorite and Halsin's least favorite for the same reason: it's extremely flashy and dramatic

"Rose Tint My World" which transitions into "Don't Dream It" from Rocky Horror Picture Show

Astarion as Janet for "RTMW" but Frank for "DDI", Wyll as Columbia, Halsin as Rocky, Gale as Brad, with special guest Elminster as Dr. Scott during "Don't Dream It"

"Haus of Holbein" from SIX

tbh I don't have an explanation for this one I've really only listened to the corsets part and think it's kinda cunt, idk they'd all slay in corsets

"Big Spender" from Sweet Charity

ok just imagine any of them doing Fosse choreography

"Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)" from Mamma Mia

ok just imagine there's stripper poles-

"Cell Block Tango" from Chicago

with special guests Minsc and Volo; no one knows how they got here, Minsc is a bit too uncoordinated but he's got the spirit and Volo was recording everything from the audience for research purposes but saw they were short a character and thought to himself "what better way to learn than through participation?"

70 notes · View notes

uyuartik · 2 months

Text

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

tags: same as before except more unhinged, (slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT), idiots in love, friends with benefits though it is more than that, oral sex (fem and male receiving), fingering, piv sex, overstimulation, thigh riding, dom!obi?, ANGST AT SOME POINT(S), tension so high that they should be on medication, me shortening every uncle-in-law phrase to uncle bcs english sucks in family terms, overuse of commas because editing 42 pages is hard

a/n: HELLO AGAIN, thank you all so much for all the love you've shown, i couldn't be more grateful. sorry for the *long* wait, i just thought the story needed a little longer than a week to do its trick, and frankly i am a busy person so 7 day gap wouldn't work for me. but i hope you can forgive me with this beast of a chapter, it is my first time writing such a long one. hope you enjoy it, and see you all again soon!

also not so fun fact: i totally misunderstood the "season", thinking it should be around summer- early autumn but it was the other way around, sorry, all the historical babes (i can no longer call myself that) for the frustration. but this timetable suits this story much better, does it not?

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

part one | part two | part three

enjoy!!!

word count: 19.7K

chapter two: it's a bad idea, right?

The morning or to be exact, the noon, is when you finally feel refreshed, ready for the challenges of the day. Lucky, because your relatives are more than understanding, has always been. They would scold you for going about your day as a ghost rather than miss breakfast or join only halfway to their other activities. You always try to honor their kindness, not to take advantage of the privileges as a guest, and do your best to spend time with your cousin Carolina, (The young girl has all the benefits of her young age, full of energy and excitement, fascinated by the stories she hears (from you, mostly)), and also avoid bringing a man into your room under their roof and absolutely ravaging each other-

The last one is an exception, which you are not proud of, yet not a single drop of guilt muddies your soul. None, considering the enjoyment or strengthened bonds.

Speaking of it, something tells you that you'd have been late anyways if you woke up early, thanks to him. There's indeed a mark on the side of your neck, just where it meets your shoulder. Also, your thighs share the same fate, though lightly, a few small bruises and red, irritated areas thanks to his neat beard. Thankfully, they're quite hidden except the one that's not that has you cursing at him. For how good it felt, and for his daredevil nature.

You're scared to admit your fear for your future with him, not in the romantic expectations aspect, you would never, but for the simpler stuff like how are you going to look at his face and not be reminded of its presence between your legs. Or the unending tease he’ll become, even more so than usual, rightfully so. Make no mistake, you had pretty high expectations, and an overall picture of your relationships past it. Yet, last night was its own entity, reducing you to a mess in the most beautiful way, plucking every thought from your mind, yet dropping seeds of doubt like this.

Still, there’s a foolish smile on your face, and some soreness in between your legs, a welcomed ache.

Nonetheless, you’re not sure how to react when you descend the stairs, and he’s there, sharing tea with your aunt and uncle.

Obi Wan stands up in a blink, even before your aunt has the chance to react to your entry.

“Oh, here you are, sweetie! Just in time to join us in the gardens, and look, who’s here!”

“Hello, auntie. Uncle.” For what’s worth, you like being here, with them, and nothing changes that. You can feel the adamantine warm cloud of love in your chest. The reason you never doubted coming here.

“Lord Kenobi.” You greet him as well, though not with that big smile and sincerity you’ve just shown.

“My Lady.” His indifferent tone is interesting. Indifferent, yet indifferent as any other time, respectful and overly sympathetic. Maybe the situation isn’t as bad as you think? Yet, he’s here, isn’t he? His very presence is questionable enough.

“How good of the young man to join us, don’t you think? Though I fear it’s only due to work issues, and not out of courtesy.”

Yes, how good! And definitely not out of courtesy.

“You hurt me, Madam.” He objects, frowning his brows. “I must say this house, with its amiable hosts, has always had a great place in my heart. Last night once again proved it right, it was the best ball I’ve ever been to all summer. In fact, I was thinking of learning your contacts for the band and the cook, you inspired me to throw my own.”

You really, really try to not roll your eyes, and drop the tea that’s being offered to you now.

“Oh, no problem at all! I’ll write them down when we finish the paperwork in my study.” Your uncle says, and the absolute charmed look and excitation in his eyes have your stomach sinking. “And how are you, my dear? Haven’t you shaken out the morning chill yet?” He points to your shawl, wrapped tightly around your neck. You powdered the marks, and put on a big necklace, but then decided you couldn’t be too careful, and put on the fabric too.

“Yes, I think the weather change wasn’t quite easy on me this time.” You reach for the honey, making a show of it so they don’t put you in the center of attention.

“Did you sleep well last night?”So, it doesn’t work. And that’s about the one question you hoped to avoid.

“Despite the exertion taking place-“ Kenobi’s eyes widen, exaggerated by the teacup basically covering other parts of his face, and for a second you think he may choke on his tea. “downstairs, I say it was the best sleep I could’ve ever had.”

You hope your acting inspires the same in him too. He suppresses that little cough well, and the blush settling in his cheeks is faint, easily blamed on the warmth of the drink.

Strike one.

Irritation grows in you, rather than anxiety. Does he really think you’re that crude? That dumb? You make a point of not looking his way after that, an attitude clearly noticed by him in no time. It’s not like he has any chance of talking about it, but the alarm bell in his head rings continuously, busying his mind ‘til the opportune moment comes to talk about it.

Then, a gleeful screech of your name fills the room. In a blink, your cousin is right next to you, wrapping her arms tightly around your shoulder that you can’t properly stand up and hug her back in a normal way.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up all day long!” She says, hands reaching to hold yours, almost causing you to lose control of the fabric covering your neck. “We’ve got so much to do! And you were going to tell me all about Naboo! Did you really get to see the lions?”

“Sweetie-“ Despite the wildness of the affection you are given, there’s a huge smile on your face, and you almost make her sit on your lap- an old habit from her younger years.

“Come now- you promised to go riding with me. I want to show you how much I improved.”

“Well-“ your poor, poor legs are in no condition for that kind of activity. “I think it’s best if we do that tomorrow. You see, I had enough of it yesterday, I’ve been in a carriage all day.”

His smirking, twinkling eyes.

Strike two.

Your furious gaze kills that gleam quickly though. The faint smirk disappears, and he straightens his back, clearing his throat.

“Carolina, can’t you see we have a guest? Where are your manners? And give your poor cousin some space, for God’s sake!” Your aunt exaggerates like any mother of her generation, that high pitched voice screeching every ear in the room.

You should be glad to see the subject changed, but the condition of it is bitter. She bows her head down, taking a few steps away from you, but you hold onto her hand, keeping her near.

“Hello, young lady. I am Obi Wan Kenobi.” He sounds- sympathetic, though not overly. It is this sweet balance between respecting their being without the prejudices of age, but compassionate enough not to crush them under expectations they are yet to achieve. Interpreting this from just a couple of words seems a bit of a stretch, you know, still, his whole attitude screams he’s got some experience talking to kids, or considerable knowledge about the human psyche.

“He’s a friend of mine.” You explain further, trying to ease her.

“Welcome, Lord Kenobi.” She curtsies, yeah, she’s perfected that, you observe with proud eyes.

“I didn’t see you at the ball last night, I’m afraid.” Like he was there longer than an hour.

“It was past my bedtime.” The look she gives her parents tells him all he needs to know about her character, or precisely who influences her. He wonders if it was any similar to yours. “I hope you had a wonderful time. You must’ve, because she’s an excellent dancer.” She turns at you, smiling so innocently that you can’t blame her for complicating things. “She taught me all about it, even better than my tutors.”

“Oh, no, we didn’t-“ The sentence synchronically rolls from both of your tongues, but you stop as you realize. There’s an abrupt silence in the room for a few seconds, causing anger to bubble up in you once more, and forcing you to make up an excuse to break free from this atmosphere.

“Hey,” You tug on her arm, “I’ve brought candy.” And just like that, she’s jumping all over you, bouncing with joy, “Sshh,” You warn. “First we need to go somewhere unseen.”

===

You see him again, days after, when he’s clearly learned his lesson, and gave you a window to breathe, calm your fury. The worst thing? It works. You can imagine (or in other words daydream) the next time you two see each other, which you desperately wish for it to be soon, and picture keeping yourself from stepping onto his feet, or shoving your finger into his chest. It all could not be forgotten but worked out through little warnings and explanations. Communication, basically.

And it turns out, you don't have to imagine any longer, and have the perfect opportunity to test your temper.

In a cafe. Where you sit alone. Blissfully ignorant of the couples (or to-be-couples) surrounding you. But most importantly, unchaperoned. (You had your tongue to defy any unwanted presence, and it's not like people came here alone like yourself. They came here for dates. And if anything, your presence was a litmus paper. What was to happen in marriage, if one couldn’t even keep their eyes from others in those little flirtatious rendezvous?)

(Though you knew some didn’t see it that way. A temptress, their choice of word to describe you.)

Obi Wan walks up to your table in quick, big steps that somehow don’t capture the attention of anyone but you. A further proof of that magic dust he sprinkles. He’s dressed in browns today. It is a welcomed change. The smile on his face is unbeatably prominent, even as he follows the guide of manners, bowing his head and removing his hat before he sits in front of you. There’s no indication of his previous whereabouts in his looks and you wonder how he found you. Was he simply passing by the establishment before noticing your presence, or did he inquire about your engagements today, asking around?

"You shouldn't be here." It’s that sweet tone of yours, an alarm said in the softest of inclinations. “I have no company.” While it is redundant to both of your mindsets, the need of a chaperone for every conversation you have with strangers, you like to be cautious.

Then let me be it, he would’ve said, if it wasn’t literally the first time after your distasteful encounter. He’s not going to throw away that lesson for a shot of comedy. Or the fact that it’s hardly a request, but again- It’s not worth it. “I just wanted to say how sorry I was for the last time. It was- unadvisable to say the least.”

That- feels so good to hear, somehow. Far better than expected. You lean back in your chair, a sly smile on your face that you can’t help, and a subtle blush, a total contrast to your attitude.

“What can I say though? I don’t know if it’s still possible to be unsatisfied, but I sure felt like that if I didn’t see you again.”

Your fingers grasp the fork far too tightly, considering you have no appetite left for the desert in front of you. It’s the flashbacks from that night, and the undeniable effects it had on both of you.

“Well, apology accepted.”

He releases a breath after your words, visibly relaxed, amusing you further. You focus your gaze on the plate, in hopes of blending this conversation into the atmosphere around.

You add. “Then again, don’t take my forgiveness for granted. None of my partners were this careless, and I seriously expected better from you.”

(You're quite aware this is not the sort of conversation fit here.)

The interruption of “Oh, that will never even cross my mind.”, turns into “Partners?”, thankfully in a whisper, but sharp enough that it holds the same value as a shriek. He plays it off like it’s a frivolous question, a part of your ongoing banter, a mere thread to spin the conversation.

As if you gave the perfect impression of a blushing virgin that night. You flutter your lashes, as you take a bite. The silence is absolutely deafening, before you can continue. “There’s a reason I like traveling that much. Naboo. Correlia. Alderaan. God, even Hoth.” The discomfort in his face grows, and you fight it with an explanation, hoping that’s the reason. “Never at the same time, though, if it wasn’t obvious. It was just about having good company if I was to spend months in a city.”

“Yes, yes of course.” He shakes his head, an act of his nonjudgemental nature. “So, am I the Coruscant part of your little play?”

“No. You're the exception.” You laugh. “I haven’t- not here. I wouldn’t dare. Too little privacy. No trust. Above all, not a single soul that felt like a match of my own. Til I met you.” He deserves to hear that, right? “However I must say, the rules would be a little different here. Requires more caution. Fine work. For example, you couldn’t come and see me like this whenever you desire."

"Fair enough." He agrees, though makes little effort to follow the lesson. Actually, not even little, none. He just sits there, moulding into his chair further, a pleasant grin as he takes the world in, entertaining himself with the surrounding people. And you, of course. His piercing gaze travels back to you, every time.

Well, right. Not like you wanted him off of your table. "What do you want, Lord Kenobi?" And how did you know I would be here anyway?

"Are you coming to the picnic on Saturday, in the Perlemian Park?"

You were certainly thinking about it. "Possibly."

"I'm only going if you are joining too." He wets his lips, an action you don't miss, and you continue to watch it long after he's done and see the next words coming out, before your brain can comprehend their meaning. "So, I'll need a better answer."

The same lips that mapped out your entire body, whispered all those dirty things, tasted your hidden corners, drinking in the pleasure it provided…

He clears his throat, and you break out of the trance. He looks at you with a brow lifted, but the twinkles behind his blue eyes tell you it's not out of boredom. More like the exact opposite.

"I'll be there."

This is his cue to leave, with excitement for the said event, and a tinge of sadness for this interaction ending. You mirror his manners as he bids you a good day.

Then, you're left alone, exactly as merely half an hour ago. Yet, the dessert in front of you is unsavory, nowhere near enough to satisfy your sweet tooth.

It is still completely the same.

===

Comes Saturday, and does it come slower than possible… The weather seems like it's making one last show before the summer ends and scorches the earth, leaving everyone a sweating mess, little to no words coming out of their mouth, sprawled on the nearest surface. You seriously debate whether calling the offer off, the choice of fanning yourself to a lazy nap sounding better and better. It is in these extensive relaxations that you uncover the horrid truth- your fingers fell short in bringing you pleasure now, making you an even more sweaty, frustrated mess rather than the relaxed, drowsy mess you want to be. It is an awful revelation, bringing along many questions that haunt your every waking hour. You fear it's got something to do with him- and the best prescription for you is to stay away.

Alas, you keep true to your promise and show up.

Thankfully the air has calmed down on said day, and sorbets are refreshing, making it more than a bearable experience. Bearable is actually an insult in this case, for it is more than that. These people are some of your oldest friends, close to your age, and share your opinions. It is hard not having fun when you are allowed to be free (just a little more than normal, though it is enough). None cares about the obscene gossip, or juices of fruit staining faces, dripping onto the expensive fabrics you all are adorned in. Laughs are loud and constant, never letting three minutes go without them. Hands are all flying around, hitting each other as a joke, reaching for the last piece of cake, taking the very dangerous road back without spilling a drop of the drink (which is, once again, a target of pranks).

Obi Wan enjoys it as much as you do, despite the fact that he doesn’t know them like you do. His life doesn’t allow much leisure time, and his choice of friends is mostly unfitting to these kinds of events, but he doesn’t have a problem finding joy in these kinds of events. Maybe it is mostly due to you, watching you in your nature, admiring the way you handle yourself among the crossfire of jokes, or what foods you prefer the most, making silly expressions as the taste of them hits just right. With every little thing he learns about you, he’s drawn closer to you. Once, he would name you a mystery, yet that would indicate the thrill was all in revelation. Now, it is the exact opposite. He gets more excited with each new question, like what is the actual story behind the “donkey joke” you are hinting at, or why do you pick some of the seemingly perfectly looking strawberries aside and pick others- or why you blush when you catch him looking at you, only to do the same yourself?

It is only in the afternoon that the buzz leaves its place for something serene. Conversations diminish, replies take longer, bodies sag and lean on the nearest surface, be the tree trunks or picnic baskets or their loved ones.

C’mon then, let’s take a walk. One proposes, and others follow, albeit slowly and with protests. You are among the latter, every cell in your body refusing to produce or use energy.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons you end up at the very back of the group with Lord Kenobi, and while you manage to stick with him unlike your friends, the distance between you and them grows and now, you can safely say that you’ve lost the sight of them. Twenty minutes ago.

So yes, you’ve been walking alongside him in silence. Far away that you don’t brush hands, yet so close that it would raise questions if someone were to see.

“I don’t think this is doing much for my somnolence.” He basically yawns.

"Should I take that as an insult, my Lord?"

"Why would you- what did I say to make you think so?" He shakes his head, as stubborn as he's apologetic, ready to accept the accusation if your reasons are firm. Still, his heart is already pacing up, distressed. That must be the wine taking over.

"Well, am I not the only reason for your presence? And I must be boring you, if you are still feeling drowsy."

"No- Absolutely untrue- “ He stutters, a panic to find the right words, not to be buried under your claims, he is not going to lose his chance to be by your side- only to realize the grin on your face too late.

"You little minx." He breathes out, and is rewarded by the sound of your tempting giggle.

"Seems like I successfully rid you of your problem." You take pride. "And now, I suggest walking by the lake, to ensure its permeance."

"You mean to dip my feet in the water?" Again, he shakes his head, already rejecting the proposition.

"If you don't do it I shall." You skip, prancing like a nymph before he grabs you by the arm.

“I don’t think that is safe.”

“It perfectly is.” You state, bewildered by his anxious urge. One look into his hand, and he remembers to let you go. The said hand flies to his hair, with an exasperated sigh.

“Okay, but – let me be by your side. And make it quick.”

The fact that he thinks you need his approval is downright funny, though you’d take issue with it any other time. Now, you are amused by his good intended worries and don’t have it in your conscience to break his heart over it, or bring up a quarrel.

So, you start undressing. Only your socks and shoes.

Still, the blush settles on his cheeks, and the light behind his eyes burns brighter as he sees the skin just above your knees naked. Not for the first time- still, he feels like turning his back on you, but does no such thing. And that is not because it defeats the purpose of his presence.

God, how could you even make you believe he wasn’t planning on having these impure thoughts?

You feel your temperature rising, and it has nothing to do with the sun. You meet his hypnotized eyes, and can still feel it focused on you. After days of dissatisfaction, its effect is multiplied by ten, making your heart race. You pray none of it is visible on your face. the last thing you need is for him to know.

He laughs when you lay the white fabric in the old woods of the docks, like the spoiled child you are. It is more than likely to stain, but more importantly, it is definitely old, creacking under every step, hence his aversion to sit beside you with a head shake. You shrug in return, and pull your skirt slightly above your knees, swinging your legs back and forth.

“Oh, this is lovely!” You say, sprawling your toes in the water. “Truly, you are missing out.”

“I believe you, my Lady.” His tone is joyful, just the right combination of trust and mockery.

You turn to look at him, a big mistake. The excess part of your dress brushes the surface, wetting the fabric, though it is the last thing you care. He is looking at you, with that charming grin, and subtle hunger etched into his gaze, screaming worship, in complete awe of the scene he's beholding, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, holding his hand, her dress bunched up like in those ancient paintings of fairies, and endless passion for the leading role of it. It swirls the emotions deep inside your belly, the only reaction you want to avoid. Yet, you’re not immune to it. your heart skips a beat, the tingles overtaking your skin.

“Look- I see fishes!” You whip your head, the one thing you can do in hopes of breaking the tension. You lean forward, trying to get a clear view, or try to do so because you are stopped by his grip.

“That’s enough.” The command sends a shiver down your spine. “You shouldn’t go any further.”

“Fine.” You huff, the simplest protest you can manage. His touch softens as he realizes you’re going to follow his words, though takes long to let go.

A few minutes pass in the silence of nature.

“How long are you going to stand like this?” You ask, exasperated that this isn’t going anything like you imagined.

“What?”

“I feel like I’m also standing, this is hardly fun.”

“That is only the result of your own choice.”

Narrowing your eyes, you huff and climb back on your feet, disregarding the objections of the offended dock. Then, you push past him-

He suddenly pulls you back, promptly disrupting your balance, a tactic he uses to pick you up into his arms. You scream as your feet meet the air, hands grabbing anything they can reach which ends up being his clothes.

“What are you doing?!” You yell, burying your fingers into him. With how strong your grip is, you can feel every muscle tensing under your touch.

“I’m not gonna let you walk in that mud, after all.” He explains like it was the problem you were referring to.”

“My shoes! – and-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get them.”

He adores the pout you have as he fetches them.

He leans his back on the tree, and you rest your arms on your knees, propped up.

“So, we are to sit here and sulk?”

“If you name it so.” His smile is borderline insulting, ear to ear. With one look, he points at the reason- your wet feet. There’s literally no choice but to wait for them to dry up. But by proposing the only solution, he infuriates you further.

“Very interesting.” You snark. “I would’ve just stood back if I knew this was what we would be doing.”

“And now it is I who might take those words as an insult. Have I somehow proven my companionship to be loathsome in the times we spent together?”

Times you spent together… The flashbacks are, as implied in their name, flash before your eyes at such great speed that by the time you realize it is not something you should ponder upon now, your heart rate is already up, the flame deep in your belly ignited once again, and even the sounds of the past are echoing in your ears. You turn your head away from him, cursing at the color blooming on your cheeks.

Oh, but the action is enough to let him know exactly what you are feeling, a song of “I thought so” on his tongue- yet he doesn’t sing it yet, realizing the underestimation of his own emotions. He brings it upon himself- a glance at you, taking in your red face (as much as possible) and bare legs, let out to the sun to dry up.

“Well, I’ll think that’s the case if you don’t say anything.” He opts to say this instead, loving to taunt you further.

“It’s not.” You mumble, still turned to the other side, fingernails digging at your palm.

“I can’t hear you, dear.”

“I said-“

The moment you move your head, you are met with his face, so close to yours, a distance he promptly closes by placing a hand at your neck, and tugging at it, ‘til your lips crash. You lose your balance once more, gripping his collars to not fully crush him with your weight. You gasp, the only protest you have in yourself, because for all your resolve to stay away, here you are, falling right into his arms. And it feels so damn good.

You gasp, pushing him. He laughs as his back hits the tree, never once breaking eye contact.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You whisper-scream, suddenly aware of the fact that while you are all alone on this field, your friends are still very much around.

“Oh, what am I doing? It is you, darling, don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you were looking at me.”

You direct your gaze to the ground, embarrassment getting the better of you.

“What is it?” He questions your lack of defiance. “You had no problem before. Don’t tell me you’re scared of being seen. They should at least be like, a mile away.”

Yeah. That’s absolutely correct. Besides, you’re shielded from any unwanted visitors by the thick line of trees, and the sheer distance between there and the path. It is a secluded corner of the lakeside.

“Or is there something else that’s bothering you?” This, is said in a more suggestive tone, and its effect is only amplified by the way he holds your chin to refocus your attention. You burn under his grasp and insistent watch.

Say farewell to your pride.

You let yourself fall over him once more, kissing him with a whimper you can’t quite suppress. You feel his smirk at that, but neither of you dwells on it, for he too lets out a sound of desperation, panting as he pulls you close, placing you on his thigh. (You hear your dress positively rubbing against the grass, and dare not to imagine the green blotch that may appear.) You don’t know whether to celebrate your newfound closeness or chastise your weak will, for it creates a new wave of desire in you as you delve your fingers into his beard. Your skin lights up against his coarse hair, so familiar yet so unyielding under your touch, and to be holding his face in your hands like this only blinds you more. So blind that you only realize the movement of your hips, seeking pleasure, when he holds them.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” A kiss right on the left corner of your lips. “Are you haunted by that night so deeply that you are unable to satisfy your needs on your own, like me? Or hell, with another?” Even in the midst of haze, you don’t miss the way his eyes darken at the mention of a third party.

“No- only you.” You whisper, too afraid of things ending.

“Fuck.” He can’t help but burst at your surrender. “That’s my girl. Lift your hips a little for me, darling.”

You oblige without question, raising yourself on your trembling thighs. Holding your breath, imagining all the things he can do to you… He is bewitched by your neediness, the way you moan at the first contact his hand makes with your skin after lifting your skirt just above your knees so you have more freedom to move, and can directly sit on his thigh.

Speaking of it, why? Your eyebrows scrunch as he pushes you down like that, though the actual questioning part comes a second after your clit rubs against the fabric, not his cock, the first jolt of true ecstasy you experienced in a while, but that can’t be the case for him, right? “What are you-?”

“Trust me.” He takes his sweet time to relish the expense of your neck, so close for his taking, partly to ease your nerves, and frankly it is too much fun for his own good to feel you twitch in anticipation, and your breath getting stolen away at his open-mouthed kisses, panting when he lingers on a spot for too long at the fear of him leaving a bruise. “No marks, I perfectly remember.” He has to confess after a point, and only after that point, you begin to truly relax, and have your heart beating so fast at the same time, noticing your wetness is positively seeping into his clothes.

Your jaw hangs open with a silent pant as he decides it’s enough, and guides your body, rocking onto his. It’s not something you haven’t done before, but there’s something so unique about now, maybe the scandalous location, or your depraved state, or simply everything regarding him, that you are convinced it looks like your first time. Shit, it may even be your first time, considering the previous examples are nowhere close to this, the stakes, the desperation, the payoff… You’re holding onto his shoulders like a fucking virgin, pressed so close to receive every bit of affection he's giving. It’s the damn heat, the greatest excuse on your lips for the last couple of weeks, invalidated by the nonexistence of space between you and him. It only causes sweat to pour out of both of you, like the constant drip out of your cunt, sabotaging all your attempts to gain control, and create the slightest of frustration.

“Obi Wan.” You chant his name, unable to form any other word, and he drinks it all in, valiantly ignoring the ache in his cock. It is a hard task, a growing challenge as your knee brushes against it from time to time, especially when you try to take initiative and escape the rhythm he’s trying to create.

“Ah-ah-ah- Let me take over. You know we’re short on time, darling.”

Then, he does justice to his words as he bounces his leg, the added pressure claiming a gasp from you.

“Do that again.” What your efforts can't get you, maybe your pleads can. After all, you're just as stubborn as him, giving up easily is not on your book.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

You roll your eyes, though it is totally due to annoyance, and let out a moan, throwing your head back. The fresh air does nothing for your lungs anymore, just an outlet for your scandalous noises. Which, he has no complaints too, your erratic breaths warmed his neck enough, and blessed him with those sweet sounds, right under his ear. Oh, but in any other case, this was anywhere else, and he had to silence you, also which he has no complaints too. Perhaps the sole problem is missing the blissed out expressions of your pretty face, and the light in your eyes, burning for him.

“Are you close?” Like he even needs to ask, like he’s not aware of your moans turned whimpers.

“Hmmh.” Is all the answer he gets, and that’s enough for him, laughing quietly, as you feel the vibrations of his chest.

When you cum, it is indeed an earth-shattering moment, and an end to your misery, the first drop of water after thirst- so much so that you don’t care about it happening in such a short time. Your legs squeeze his firm thigh, shaking over them like the rest of you. His one hand travels to your waist, holding you steady and pressed against him. You swear you can feel every aspect of his hand over three layers of fabric, yet he’s not actually exerting that much power, treating you like a delicate flower, afraid to crush the silky petals.

You sigh as the trembles die down, your senses coming back to you one by one- the first and foremost the tension in the body beneath you. Your fingers loosen from his collars, and travel the expanse of his torso slowly, a kiss to his throat in the meantime.

“Don’t you worry about me.” His voice is slightly shaky, though it may very well be due to his exertion.

“I think I should.” Its trueness is further proven when you palm him, and he groans. Though he is insistent.

“Look at you, you sweet thing, concerned with me walking around with a hard-on.”

That has you rolling your eyes, and removing your hand. Removing your entire body, even. You settle on the grass, leaning on your elbows. Your dress is already ruined, so you’re past the point of worrying.

“On the other hand, you may want to think about this.” He points to his wet trousers, the dark stain visible even though the fabric is black.

Uh oh. That is indeed a problem, if you are to return soon. Unfortunately, your brain can’t grasp the danger, coming up with solutions like soaking him entirely in the lake…

So, it’s no wonder that your next words are a joke.“You marked me, I marked you. We're even.”

To your surprise, it works. His laughter fills the entire forest, yours a whisper in comparison. The idea that maybe, just maybe this can be repeated every now and then, that it wouldn't harm anyone fills your chest with a different kind of cheer, a hopeful sensation that suits the summer. He's proven his carefulness, making the best of the situation without risking either of you. The rising hope in you should scare you, but it doesn't. It only makes you sprawl under the sun like a cat enjoying the heat, and join his laughter with a big grin.

“Fair. Absolutely fair.”

===

The next time you see each other again, things seem to cool down a bit. It is entirely a civil dinner, always at a respectable distance, the number of times you lock eyes are countable on one hand (though some border the edge of being a little too long), and it is all not so surprisingly, plain. Maybe it is about both of you trying to contain one’s self, so much so that the other core aspect of both of you, the humorous side is buried that night and no other person can live up to its ghost. Perhaps it is due to the upcoming end of summer, bringing out a tinge of melancholy, already mourning the past, thus your impulses dwindle down, the sparkles absent.

That is, ‘til, you are the only occupants in the saloon, after the other guests have left, and your aunts retreated to their rooms. You are reading a book, barely aware of the fact when he, sitting next to you in that single armchair drops whatever pen he’s holding, just by your feet. You’re pulled out of your trance by the sound it creates, raising your gaze from the page just in time to see him bending over to retrieve it or- ending up completely kneeling in front of your legs.

He raises his head, and you watch the way his face softly being illuminated by the candlelight, a smile you can’t decide whether charming or devilish, long abandoning his mission.

That’s the moment the air shifts, and the room feels hotter like the cheminee is lit, the heat wave has returned, and taken both of you to that lakeside, and the week before it, the frustration and despair that came with being unable to take care of yourself. You haven’t felt such a thing after, perhaps, it’s due to your fulfilled state and therefore lack of trial, but now, the need returns, like adding more to an already full cup, realization only hitting after the drops spill from the sides. The cup demands to be emptied, - translation: your soul demands whatever pleasure you can get your hands on- and the image of him causing it is certainly a preference.

(Again, it is your soul that’s demanding it- your brain would very much like to lock you away in the furthest corner of this house, or kick him, if that’s all you can manage.)

“Excuse me?”

“I just remembered how I failed to say how beautiful you look tonight.”

“Thank you.” Your mouth speaks before you can protest the improperness of your situation. Color settles on your cheeks for accepting his compliment first. “What are you doing?”

“Collecting my pen.” He shrugs, and demonstratively takes it to his hand, yet it is once more left to the ground instead of the nearest table, with the rest of his papers. He adds, “I admire how you are an expert in navigating every social situation, whether it's a boring dinner like this, or a ball.

Your eyebrows raise at the boring part, after all, it's hosted by your relatives, and it wasn't exactly boring, maybe a little uneventful. “Not every occasion has to be full of adventure, Lord Kenobi. Slow nights like this are beneficial for the soul. Gives the mind some rest.”

He purses his lips, like he’s been told on his bluff, the one part he emphasized to sound strong. Because, he is. He had fun tonight, the type that fills one’s heart with sweet lethargy. “I suppose you’re correct. But you’re missing out on an important detail.”

“And what is that?”

“The right company.”

You’re glad that your hands were pressing against the book, holding the page, because if they weren’t, they would be visibly shaking.

“I have underestimated how much I missed you, that much is clear to me now.” Barely speaking, or barely speaking anything important with you throughout the evening, yet he feels rejuvenated, the ache in his chest becoming prominent as it starts the heal. He doesn’t say the last part, but the sentiment is reflected in the soft sparkle behind his eyes, the hypnotic storm, pulling you towards unknown chaos, but beautiful, and promising safety in its center. That’s why you don’t protest as his hand reaches for yours, brushing your knee (he wanted to do that for some time, to feel the soft fabric that basically decorates your body), interlocking fingers, and reluctantly retreating them in favor of taking the book that sits in your lap, setting it aside. You don’t protest, despite the screams in your head, saying he’s right there why is he still there-

“And the other thing I missed terribly, the sight of your legs.”

Your shaky inhale echoes.

His fingers gently close over your ankles, and travel upwards slowly, lifting your dress alongside. “Though I’ve only seen them twice, they might be my favorite view, ever.”

“Is that so?” You are perplexed by the confession, with a lazy grin, very much enjoying the seduction. His way with words seems like a constant threat to your sanity, but damn do you adore it dearly, a voluntary victim to its spell.

“Why would I ever lie to you?” He whispers, hands tightening. “I like them very much. But I think I would like them better around my shoulders.” He pulls your knees slightly, causing you to yelp as your back caves in, and grasps your ankles once more, proceeding to demonstrate exactly his words.

“What are you doing?” You ask, like you don’t know the answer. It is a statement, an acknowledgment, the last chance to bring some sense into any of you. You’re in the living room, in a house that is not your own, filled with people who are still very well awake, and can just decide to come in.

“Having a second dessert, if I may?” And how can you refuse, after the image is served to you on a golden plate?

“But at the lake - You were-”

“You think I'm doing this for recompensation?”

“No, I didn't mean to imply that.” God, this is embarrassing. “I just wanted to say I might miss having my way with you.”

“I’ll be glad to take that as a promise.”

Then, it is settled.

Still, he waits for your small nod and takes in the way you bite your lip, wishing he was the one to do so, but- priorities. Time is a valuable asset, especially now, and he has to honor his offer. That’s why he opts for a few small, open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, actively fighting the desire to leave bruises, evidence, a memory. Judging by the rapidness of your breath, it seems he has reached his goal in some way. It’s the beard- scratching your skin even when his mouth is not doing something, sensitizing the flesh and making it all too susceptible to the incoming assault. Your hand flies up, absentmindedly reaching for his hair, yet stopping a second before, landing on the couch instead- if you messed up his hair, there’s no coming back from it. He chuckles at your struggle, the warm breath making you squirm. Even if you don’t, he’s maddened by action, despite the laugh. He has you- but not really. He’s enveloped in your heat, taking in your scent, and seconds away from tasting you, but is not able to be blessed with the slight pain he'd felt if you tugged on his strands, or the untamed sounds you’d have sung in a more private setting.

So yes, he’s as torn and desperate as you. Slow nights, you said?

Truth be told, it doesn’t matter what adjective comes before the word; slow or fast, boring or exciting as hell, freezing or hellishly hot; if it is with you, it is a good night. Otherwise, it is lacking. The world may be painted gray forever, considering you two mostly don’t get the chance to spend more than two occasions together in a week, but there can be no comparison to colorful scene of those moments.

And this is the night Obi Wan admits that fact.

You both moan, when his tongue finally meets your cunt, licking a messy stripe. It is more of a vibration than a noise- possibly for the best. It makes you jolt, and his hold tightens, and again, it is for the best, because when he decides to pay attention to your clit after his time exploring your folds is done, your limbs start to shake, threatening to fall. Your eyes roll back when things settle, and pleasure starts to build up, your juices flowing, and he drinks it all in before they have the chance to make a mess of your dress.

That is the first time he takes a break. “Eyes on me, darling.”

What is with him and that special request?

Your whine doesn’t mean anything to him, except make his cock twitch in his now tight trousers- but that has other reasons too. He waits ‘til your eyelids open once more, and you meet his gaze, and a second longer, unable to resist the urge to get lost in your hazy expression. Then, he dives back in, swirling the muscle around your bundle of nerves. In any other circumstance, you’d have thought this would be too indelicate, so straight to the point, no fun or respect, yet his way to do so is anything but those qualities. His movements are precisely designed for you, slow enough to not cause discomfort, fast enough to make the best of your unknown time limit. You’re afraid to deduce that one time was enough for him to learn you, one time to turn your world upside down, and leave you to deal with the memory of it.

“Sweetie?” That’s the first time your eye contact is broken. The world freezes for a second before it does, and your head whips to the direction the sound has come from, to find your aunt by the door. Miraculously, she continues to stand there, unbothered by the long and protective distance which compromises of the dining table and the back of your couch, a perfect cover for the scandal that is taking place. Obi Wan stills, perhaps even stops breathing, yet he’s the one to snap you out of your shock with his grip around your skin. It is ridiculously encouraging, knowing he's not abandoning you on your own, even at the expense of getting caught, and the dread it would surely follow.

“Yes, auntie?” You gulp. Trying not to sound breathless is a clear effort.

“Have you seen Lord Kenobi?”

Your reputable smartness lags, the answer of yeah, he’s right here IN BETWEEN MY LEGS, occupying your mind. “I think he went out to get some air, I haven’t seen him for some time.”

“How odd.” She comments, “And what are you doing there on your own?”

“Reading my book.” You smile, and hope your cheeks’ tremble isn’t too noticeable. “It’s quite good- couldn’t tell the time.”

She scorns. “Oh, now I see- he must’ve gotten bored as you were buried in your book. You truly should work on your guest etiquette, dear. And Lord Kenobi, of all people!”

“Auntie!” Your eyes widen, and you squeal a little, and feel Obi Wan giggling quietly.

“I’m just saying, that you should treat him better- he’s a good person, and obviously fancies you.”

“Auntie!”

“I mean, I like him? Don’t you like him?”

The urge the scream has never been stronger.

To escape the subsequent questions should you answer otherwise, you give in, and sag.” I do.” And the worst thing is, you actually do. Objectively, you like him, all his little jokes and sweet tongue (no pun intended), the elegant form he carries himself in, and the kind nature he never fails to live up to. Except for the dangerous extent your relationship is getting into, there’s nothing about him that you don’t like. And truthfully, even that is barely a matter you care about, proven by your current situation.

You can feel him smile, the coarse facial hair biting into your skin, rubbing like a cat, and the sensation is followed by a kiss on your thigh.

“Then you know what I am saying is the truth.” She raises her eyebrows in a motherly manner, a loving attempt of intervention. “Don’t stay up too late, no matter how absorbing that book is. We are invited for breakfast to the Mon’s Estate.”

Thankfully, she’s gone like that, saving you the act.

When you turn to your front again you find the need to come up with a warning to make him shut up unnecessary for he kisses you, silencing both of you. The action brings color to your cheeks more than ever in this entire evening. The fact that you can taste yourself on his tongue aside, he’s so gentle about it, like congratulating your success, or admiring your talent, pouring out his affection for you. You can’t help but wrap your legs around his wide torso, it is how good it feels. When you two part, the lack of breath gets the best of you, only then do the swarming butterflies in your stomach begin to disturb you again.

But you’re not so quick to forget the last couple of minutes. Perhaps you've spoken too soon back then at the lake, thinking this could be continued. You’d imagined the rest of this scene a little differently, letting him follow you to your room, returning the favor, but that scare has only helped you to brew a storm inside you.

“Obi Wan…” You whisper, brows cinched in concentration as he towers over you, claiming all your senses. “We can’t- we have to stop…”

“Sshh, calm down.” His thumb draws circles on your skin, trying to soothe you in one aspect, if not every. He’s not going to let you go to your bed shaken like this, for starters. “Take a deep breath.”

You try, twice before you can manage to fill your lungs in their entirety, and your achievement is rewarded with a peck to your neck. Some of the air leaves you in an abrupt exhale because of it, and he curses himself for it.

“Follow my lead.” He tries again, reclining on his knees, giving you space. It is another challenge to look into his ocean eyes, and match his pattern, but you manage, your heart beat semi-regular after a minute or so.

Semi, for said eyes and your bare pussy are face to face, and all common sense loses its importance, burned by the fire inside you.

“Obi Wan- please…”

“You sure?” He will be very disappointed if you change your mind, but he has to ask, play the sensible part. And ignore the constant throb in his trousers that has become even more unbearable after you confessed your feelings.

“Just… make it quick.” Oh, are you seriously requesting an orgasm like ordering a cake in a café?

“As you wish, love.”

He starts out the same, just playing his game a little faster, and he holds your hand as he does so, the small detail as efficient as his moves. But, the final blow is his other hand, prodding against your entrance. The flood of memories doesn’t help either, as you remember that night. A loud moan threatens to leave you, and you slap your palm against your mouth. He stops ‘til you are secured, praise in his eyes, and pushes the two digits in, stretching you out in the way. Your fingers are nothing in comparison, and he notices it immediately, the way your walls hug him.

Though, he’s an expert, and can absolutely manage to take care of you properly, so there’s nothing but pleasure, your slick channel welcoming the intrusion. It is not long before he feels the resistance fading and returning in a new form, as your climax approaches, and your muscles begin to quiver.

With your noises secured in your throat, the only form of communication is your connected hands, squeezing each other sometimes enough to risk breaking fingers. He understands what you mean perfectly, reaching up to a certain speed, then keeping it the same ‘til you start trashing, legs violently shaking around his body, and juices dripping, this time more than he can clean up. If any other time, he wouldn’t stop ‘til he feasted on every drop of it, but he withholds himself, respecting the clouds of danger. He’s glad to have helped with your anxiety, yet he doesn’t want to carry the ease to dangerous level and make you susceptible to be swayed in whatever direction.

Well, the image of his messy, wet beard certainly sends you through the wrong one, but already your nerves are not able to take more risks tonight, so you just bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, and lower your legs to the ground as he starts by cleaning out his fingers. It is hard to believe any man would try this much to indulge in your every aspect, but here he is, careful about even the smallest part.

Damn, you want to take him to your room and let him have his way with you so bad- but this is enough adventure for a night.

“Good night, Lord Kenobi.” You say, fixing your skirt, and standing up on shaky legs with your book clutched in the tightest grip against your belly.

“Good night, darling.” He nods, a content smile. “Send my compliments to the chef. “

===

“Lord Kenobi?”

You’re justified in your shock, enough to express it out loud in the middle of the jewelry shop, the last place you’d expect to run into him. Of course, he’s a neat and subtle man, and his appearance reflects his statue, though in a very calculated yet effortless manner. His pocketwatch is a family heirloom, so you’ve been told, a chic piece he takes great care of, and while his cufflinks are always elegant, it is never that eye-catching. It only compliments its wearer, you dare say, a final addition to an already completed painting.

(You never denied his handsomeness, and this is an objective opinion. Don’t read much into it.)

His supposed loneliness coupled with the fact that he looks utterly lost and bored, your curiosity is aggravated further.

Also, bumping into each other? What is this, a trick of fate?

“Madame.” He bows, and moves to press a kiss to your hand, the tradition not forgotten. His shock is easily ridden, unlike yours. The small blush on his cheeks and the wide grin on his lips tell contradictory stories, not that you’re judging, but the evident thing is his excitement.

“What are you doing he-”

“What a coincidence-“ His interruption is most unexpected, along with the high pitch in his voice.

You tilt your head, further dazed, but before the suspicion creeps in (you would be terrified to turn your gaze and find women’s accessories laid out for his picking on the table, for somebody else or for you; the latter being the lesser evil, but still disturbing), another joins, though he doesn’t seem to notice you at first.

“How helpful you are being, Obi Wan!” The tall young man with light brown hair calls out, necklaces hanging from both hands. You have a feeling that if he wasn’t busy, there would’ve been a physical reaction as well, a friendly pat on his shoulder, perhaps. “Don’t you know this is important? I need-“

His sentence is broken when he catches your attentive gaze, and realizes you are a part of this conversation as well. You’re amused by how glass-like he is, full of emotions and not afraid to show them. He looks at you, and back to Obi Wan, who finally decides it’s time for an introduction. The expression of recognition flashes through his face in a second as your name is revealed, but you can’t reflect it back fully. You have heard of Kenobi’s best friend or as some call it, brother, although barely from the man himself. You've witnessed how Kenobi's eyes lighten up with pride whenever Skywalker was mentioned, and stories- summaries of their adventures together that he told. The shortness of them wasn't a result of his unwillingness to tell them, but the circumstances of your company, never long or alone enough to visit them in their deserved entirety.

To be honest, Anakin doesn't know much about you either. He and Padme prefer the countryside by the sea, especially during the summer, thus he and Obi Wan hadn't had the means to talk often lately. He senses the situation, by the slight tension in the older man's voice; this strong, confident man crumbling into pieces for some unknown reason.

“Pleased to meet you, my Lady.” He makes a small cursty, which you mirror.

“Likewise, Lord Skywalker.”

“I’m afraid I’ll need my friend back to keep his promise.” The chains in his hands shake as he speaks, reminding the absurdity of it all. You’re not disturbed by it though, for all is concealed under his charismatic voice and mimics. He’s pretty and he knows it, which gives him all the tools to captivate others. Now you understand why people speak about him like that, moved by hearing his name alone.

“Oh, not a problem at all. We were just saying hello.” Entertained by the interaction, your anxiety is somewhat diminished, enough to let him go without an explanation. Also, the way that he rolls his eyes, and clenches his jaw is very cute, you dare say.

“Promise? I never promised anything.” He murmurs, but it is still audible for you as he follows his friend. And the rest, which makes you laugh whenever you remember it. “Anakin- she's your wife, you know her better than me. How exactly do you expect me to help you?”

“You always had a vision when it comes to beautiful things. Not like my eyes, which are only accustomed to the dirt and grease of machinery.”

You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to stop grinning, while you start talking with the salesman about the bracelet you’ve given them to restore. They make you sit and wait for a couple of minutes, all of which you spend trying to not spy on them. Fortunately, the shop is quite crowded, and their conversation is a part of the low grumble. A cup of tea is placed in front of you, as well as some new pieces they think you might like.

The one that catches your attention is not among them, however. It is a ring with a blue stone, the tone too similar to something you can’t put your finger on. It is too big to be for a woman, clearly designed for the other sex, but you admire its elegance nonetheless.

“Here is your piece, Madame.” The young salesman returns with a package, just in time to stop you from reaching it.

“Thank you.” You take the precious item back into your hands and inspect the handwork. It is shining once again, polished, and the place you accidentally broke it is now attached, the handwork barely visible.

You release a deep breath, praying graces. You would’ve never forgiven yourself if the family heirloom was forever damaged from the incident. You almost cried when it happened, a stupid game you were playing with Carolina before a ball, when you had already gotten ready and she was counting the minutes to her bedtime.

“That is beautiful.” Obi Wan joins you once more, now looking more relaxed. Your eyes search for Anakin and find him waiting for a package, reaching for his wallet. Mission accomplished. “May I?”

The chain slides into his hands, and wraps around your wrist under the watch of the young boy with a wholesome smile. He must think you two are engaged in some way, and there’s no turning back from it.

“Would that be all, Madame?”

“Actaully I-“ You remember about the ring, and even if you just want to unravel the mystery around it, the words have already left your mouth, and the entire tray is placed on the table.

Oh. Oh. With him next to you, suddenly it all makes sense. You’re holding the color of his eyes on your palm.

“That is beautiful too.” He remarks, embracing his role a little too much.

“I think it would suit you.” Now it is your turn to accessorize him. He is silent while you do so, taken aback by the unorthodoxty of it all.

“I’m not sure-“ Is all he manages to say, though can’t stop looking at it. It is ridiculously so well fitted around his finger, the fate pulling all strings to give a message.

“It compliments your eyes.” You defend yourself, perhaps a little too lively but you have no shame. It is the truth.

“The Lady is correct.” The boy joins your side, or does his job. “It is a most excellent match.”

“I might think about it.” Is how far he budges, returning it, and checking up on Anakin from where he’s standing.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Please, allow me-“

The audacity? The though is reflected in your face, which makes him blush at his unnecessary offer.

“With the ring.” You add, and it is all said and done ‘til he has time to get rid of his embarrassment and intervene.

Then, you make him take the package from you, your fingers wrapping around his. “You’re allowed to have nice things, you know?” There’s not an ounce of sarcasm in your tone, only gentle suggestion. “You don’t have to wear it, but I want you to have it.”

“Thank you.”

And you’re gone before Skywalker can catch up.

===

You truly don’t expect to see him wearing it, you really don’t.

But you’re proven wrong so, so badly.

He doesn’t take it off.

When he takes on his promise, and actually starts working on the ball he’s supposed to throw, the first thing he does is request for your uncle’s help. Then your uncle entrusts the job on you, and you’re spending hours with him like that, securing the musicians, bargaining for the food supplies, preparing invitation lists… Truly, that’s it. You too are surprised to accompany him that much and engage in nothing outside of the mission. Truthfully, a little concerning in the grand scheme of things, the inevitable result of your relationship improving, real sincerity. Although you have zero problems with the fact, enjoying it far too much. You don't care about how your contributions are secret, for your efforts surpass the limits of help that are considered friendly, and fully acknowledge that it is gonna be a damn good ball.

Also, while you hate to see him distressed, it is a look on him that you are guilty of adoring. The nervousness is like a little crack in his shell, a way to see a part of him that rarely sees the daylight. And it is for something so feeble? Only half of his effort would be enough for a wonderful ball, and he still tries to do more, and gets agitated over that? You are cruel for laughing at that, you confess. But it is more of a balancing act, rather than a mock. Somebody's gotta play the sane part, lower the tension.

You're ready to help with that, too.

“Do you think I should hire-”

You're at his study, the place you've been sitting since the morning. Time flies with every cup of tea, and plates of biscuits, but after a while, things inevitably get boring. For you, at least. He's quite focused, brows scrunched, tie slightly loosened. You see him looking at the list that you've put together in the beginning, the possible ways to entertain his guest.

You've already arranged the services of more than half of them. Twice the amount that would be considered enough.

And he's still going over it?

“That's enough!” Your open palm lands on the surface.

Obi Wan doesn't expect your outburst. He doesn't flinch, but his mimics change in an equivalent way. His lips part, causing him to relax that clenched jaw -oh, you might have a point.

“You. Need. To. Relax.” You’re now less frantic, due to his irresistibly clueless expression, though still firm in your cause. Fuck, how can he look at you with those doe eyes and expect you to… do anything!

You get up, and reach for the papers, sending them in a far corner of the desk. While you do so, you are basically halfway in between him and the table. Putting the teacups and the pot back on the tray (it has grown cold a long time ago), you turn to him, almost sitting at the desk in order to fit that narrow space. The bashful smile on his face (as if he wasn’t enjoying the perfect view of your ass seconds before) breaks your heart once more.

Putting your hand on his shoulder, you mirror his emotion. “It’s gonna be a splendid night. The kind that people will talk about it for years. And I’m not exaggerating on that one. I would’ve said the same thing days ago, all before the last additions, too.”

It is a challenge to feel the warmth of your skin, and not lean against it. “You’re right.” He tugs on his collar, taking a deep breath. “But you know- I’ve never planned a ball in my life, and- I just need it to be perfect.”

You giggle, and replace your hand on his cheek that is colored with the confession of his little perfection obsession. You welcome the slight sting of his beard, like a habit, and caress his cheekbone. He dares not move, or even take a breath, only watching your pretty face focused on his, and relish the feeling of your thumb across his features.

“It’s going to be just that.” You might’ve said, or a joke about his troubles, but words scurry off of your mind as you stay like that, squished in place as you try your best to comfort him.

“Can you kiss me?” The thought seems lunatic when uttered on a whim, but it has crossed your mind too, you must admit.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” There's an undeniable urge to use his words back at him.

Your back has to bend in an uncomfortable way for your lips to touch, but you have no complaints about it. The touch is so soft, laden with affection in the purest kind. It is obvious in every way, the movement of your mouths, determined to preserve the sweetness and sweetness alone, and the itch in your palms, mapping each other out over and over again, and the determination of your lungs, using every last drop of oxygen before demanding an exchange.

“T-thank you for that, dear.” His eyes open after a few seconds, with a sheepish smile that causes him to speak in whispers.

It’s about to get real dangerous for you, if he keeps being this cute.

“I’m not about to say we should've done it sooner, for it is a complete waste of our time repeating a truth well known, and I've already used that trick before, but maybe we should do it again.”

Okay, but how does that kind of sass sound cute from your perspective?

“Don't push your luck.” You say, fingers smoothing his hair, and his complaint dies on his throat visibly. He purrs, eyelids closing. That's the moment you decide to press a small peck to his lips for all his troubles. It lasts longer than intended, and while it's definitely different than the previous one, him gripping your waist telling a different story. The weight of them is welcome nonetheless, and it serves as an anchor, like you two could be molded into a statue if he held it long enough.

However, he is the one to break the stillness, shifting in his chair- first of all, how dare he, you're doing the acrobatics here-

Oh.

He notices that you've noticed it. Clearing his throat, Obi Wan lets his hands slide to the table, just a centimeter away from your body. “It’s been some time.” His face remains focused on the floor.

Didn't he even take care of himself?

You push his shoulder back, and he takes it a step further without a blink, sliding away with his chair.

What he doesn't expect, is for you to stay exactly where you are, only this time on your knees. He has to gulp once, then twice, because he finally looks at your face, smiling back at him.

“May I help?” Admittedly, your fluttering gaze was unnecessary, and tips him even more. You don't miss the way he stabilizes his hands.

“By all means.”

You start by unfastening the buttons of his tan trousers, letting your forearms rest on his thighs. He aids your quests by lifting his hips a little, being freed from the constraints of the fabric-

There he is.

You bite your lip at the sight, and the sight is not just his huge cock, already hard and weeping for you. It is about him, and the redness that creeps up his neck, the way he hisses and bites his knuckles at the cool air hitting his sensitive skin, how he claws at the armrest waiting for your touch. His head nearly hits the back of the chair when you finally do, a small moan leaving his exposed throat.

Well. You really should’ve done this sooner.

Your thumb swirls around his head, more fluid leaking out as you do so. Thus your fingers slide down his shaft easily, and he is coated in his slick in no time, along with your palm. It twists around him without rush, leaving him to wander in that dream like state without mentioning a finish line. You want to ask him, ask him how he likes it, or make him cover your hand with his, guiding you, but you also want him to stay just like this, eyes fixed with that heavy lidded gaze, partially obscured by that infamous strand of hair that refuses to be tamed like others. His mouth hangs open with loud breaths and sometimes graces you with sounds of his pleasure.

“Harder.” The only instruction you need.

You clasp tighter and shudder like him, taking pride in your work. He can feel the strain in his muscles fading second by second, the problems in his mind are plucked out one after the other, replaced by your soothing words you repeated constantly for days at this point, and expert hands, creating the same effect on his body.

“Like this, Lord Kenobi?” You require you still acquire his opinion, a feedback, and his title rolls off of your tongue unintentionally. Honestly, there’s no explanation you can make even to yourself, but you are already over it as his cock twitches under your palm, and his groan fills the room.

“Y-yes. You’re doing- so good.”

That must be some sort of karma, for he is above the concept of revenge, but you’re left with an itch to grind your legs together at his praise. If you do that, you’ll probably feel your wetness smearing all over your skin, you’re sure of it.

And you’re determined not to be distracted.

Your other hand joins the game too, starting to massage his balls. That makes him tense under you for a moment, but the tension dissolves quickly, leaving him dizzier.

“Fuck-“ Even the simplest swear word sounds hypnotizing on his lips, “you’re perfect. Don’t stop.”

Like you had any intention to do that.

On the contrary, your intentions evolve in the direction after his words, perhaps even a little bit further. You lean in and lick a stripe up his length, the tip of your tongue dancing around his head, fully tasting him, before you take him to your mouth fully.

His hand flies up, shaking as it comes down, held back by the strongest of wills from delving into your hair. Instead, it inches closer to your cheek, and returns to the position before (because he may have just lost five years of his life feeling the way you swallow him), half-stabilized over the armrest. His head rolls back once more, unashamed to release his moans with your every move. The most sinful one comes out when you use your throat, gagging around his thickness. You repeat it, and he whimpers, earning an equal sound from you too.

This time, you don’t have to ask him anything. The eye contact as you recover your breath, and continue to stroke him tells you everything you need to know, tells how much he enjoys it.

“Please- darling-“

You don’t try to choke on him again, but keep a rhythm with your tongue and your palm. He reaches climax quickly nonetheless, throbbing in your mouth and coating it white. Obi Wan feels sorry for not warning you, a sense of guilt rising alongside that pleasure, but it once again came over with lust as you gulp it down without a blink. He even fears he might go hard in a second, against all the rules of nature. You provoke that in all ways possible, pressing small kisses to his shaft, occasionally licking it, and letting your head rest on his thigh.

“Thank you.” It is so out of place to say that for this kind of act, but it is the sentence that is spoken, breaking the silence.

“You’re welcome, my Lord.” Thankfully, you raise your gaze just in time to miss the way his cock moves. You straighten your back and throw your shoulders back, stretching like you’ve just woken up.

So cute and so filthy.

“I’d like to return the favor.” He says, the action fueled only by his kind and generous soul.

“Some other time.” Your smile reflects the acknowledgment, not mocking his advances. “I am expected from home.”

“Ah, pity. Send my regards to your family.” He can’t help but feel envious of them. Do they know to treasure your company, not take a second of it for granted? Do they know what you did to him, before joining them? Would they be as accepting as ever, aware of your scandalous affairs?

Of course not.

But even then, you’d deserve much better than what they would treat you like. Your courage alone is enough to make the world bow down to you.

And what if your family means something other than your blood, your relatives? What if it was a stranger, a man undeserving, but had you to himself every night, when you returned home from your daily activities? A lucky fool who had the blessing of knowing you’d be by his side soon, every damn day.

His fingers turn into fists as you clean yourself up, so pretty in your ignorance to his gaze, brows slightly furrowed as you smooth out the wrinkles on your dress.

“Shall do.” And with your cheery voice, he doesn’t even notice his grip is unclenched.

===

Red isn’t his color. Some say it suits him well, that the stark contrast is eye-catching, but he doesn’t like to carry it. At this point of his life, it’s not even about his clothing choices, he prefers anything over that pigment in every possible scenario; the sheets, the carpets, the flowers… He makes a point of avoiding that powerful color.

Not today, though.

He has no word over how you dress and for once, tries very hard to stay neutral, not verbalize his choices when you mention the outfit you’ll be wearing in his ball, and it is a successful endeavor. (Knowing you and your stubbornness, it would probably only damage the bond between the two of you, something you’ll quip for years, or God forbid, keep you from attending at all.)

In the end, you wear it, and he ends up where he doesn’t want to be. Drowning in that bloody cloud. Without remorse, for the first time in his life.

For once, he finds himself chasing after it, taking joy in its liveliness, surrendering to the dangerous promises it makes. Your presence brings energy to every room you enter. The candles seem to burn brighter, and the warmth in his chest is not solely a result of both of your accomplishment of the spectacle. Obi Wan smiles ear to ear, eyes almost closed because of it, and he wants nothing more than to dance with you all night long, bury his hands in that expensive fabric and feel the burn in your cheeks, painted with the same color. He doesn’t even mean it in a perverse way. He wants to celebrate the payoff of your efforts, let the pride be felt, and enjoy the treats like all the guests, or even more than them (it would be more than fair to do so), together.

Alas, the society you both live in isn’t the type to accept such things. In order to not taint the event with the bitterness reserved for that principle, he doesn’t ask for more than six dances, or follow you around the saloon like a lost puppy. While it is never enough, he counts and cherishes the accidental eye contacts, and your hands holding his in dances, or the different circles you ran into each other and have snippets of various conversations. He accepts every compliment with your name tied behind his tongue and feels relieved with each passing hour, realizing how perfect everything is going, thanks to your pieces of advice and restrictions. He is light as a feather underneath all those layers he had to put on for the evening, without the pressing intention of taking it all off as soon as possible.

But, there are two sides to every coin, and here comes the other side, halfway through the night, the prejudice he had returning sinisterly.

He does a decent job of suppressing his jealousy, for all the purposes he’s thought of before. He can glance over when you dance with a stranger, or two, ricocheting on the stage and putting on a show for everyone. He chooses to admire the beauty you’re radiating, shining like a rose after the rain. It keeps him occupied for a while. But when an hour passes and you’re not even looking at his general direction, way too engulfed in your conversation with them, he feels a distaste rising in him. The red bleeds into his heart, poisoning him. It slowly takes over, and by the time you throw your head back with a burst of laughter that echoes in the room, he’s entirely filled with it. His hands twitch with every dream of ripping the source of that poison from your skin in a cove meant for just the two of you, away from all the vultures that eat and drink and savor his doings and yet ready to crucify him at his slightest flaw.

Obi Wan is one step away from sending everyone to their homes when you escort that man to the garden. Honestly, the only reason he doesn’t is because you return in a minute or two, the tip of your nose giving away all he needs to know- it’s chilly.

And he didn’t even give you his jacket?

On the second thought, it’s best that he didn’t, because then Obi Wan wouldn’t even bother to get rid of the crowd to have his way with him.

“Lord Kenobi.” You manage to catch him alone, on the balcony. He’s up there to calm his nerves, over you, unbeknownst to you. Unfortunately, his progress is lost the second he hears your voice, and it is truly an effort to act otherwise.

The night is on the brink of ruin for him, and it doesn’t have to be that way for you. This is why he tries so hard.

“I must congratulate you on this beautiful ball. It is a night to remember.”

“Don't say it like the honor doesn't belong to us both.”

You shrug, as if whisking all the credit away. But your eyes twinkle with pride.

“I haven't had this much fun in ages,” You chirp, “I would've begged for another one already, if I hadn't witnessed the toll it took on you.” He covers his face at the mention of the state he has been in for the last couple of weeks. “Oh God, don't.”

“Oh God, you just didn't expose yourself like that! When will you start enjoying this?” Your laugh is a hidden giveaway of how many glasses you had tonight. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed for those who may inquire.” Your lips. Wrapped around his cock. Mapping out his neck. Keeping his secrets. “Remember that every word that comes out of my mouth is said by a person who attended all types of feasts all over the continent for a decade now. I grew up around these circles.” Shrugging, you add. “Perhaps that was my undoing.”

“Undoing? I could never call you “undone”.” Ironic, how you make him forget about before and continue to concern him with totally different subjects.

“You’re right.” Thoughts come out a little slow, but your effort is evident on your face. “I just had too many opportunities to start over in new places, experience everything that I was curious about, and that all led me to discover exactly what I liked, what I wanted from life.”

“How’s that a bad thing?”

“I’m not willing to let that go anytime soon.” You can’t help but notice that it sounds like some sort of prison of your will, but that’s not a discussion you can have tonight. “Anyways, Obi Wan. I must be going now, just wanted to pay my compliments and wish you good night.”

“I thought you’d stay the night-“Well, that’s definitely not the case, “But it is so early?”

“You know our houses are not so close, any later than this and I’m going to fall asleep on the road out of habit.”

Yeah, that’s why he thought it would be perfectly reasonable for you to stay over.

“I see.” And he wishes he had gone blind and deaf. “Then, allow me to bid you good night, my Lady.”

He takes your hand, placing a kiss you can very much feel despite the fabric. What he doesn’t expect, is for you to press your palm against his chest in return, because he doesn’t know of the urge you have to not leave. It is a split second of override, before you can command your feet to move again, blissfully unaware how tender that moment was.

===

A day. A full day. That’s how long he can refrain from seeing you. Funny, the meetings have become a habit for him, and although he needed you back then, he needs you more now, for completely different reasons, and you’re not there that morning- and why would you be? There’s no arrangement that demands your assistance anymore. Your praises are all said and done, and if to be repeated, it wouldn’t certainly be a matter that required urgency for you to show up at his door.

And maybe, you have other places to be, other doors to knock. Perhaps you’d enjoy a change of air.

So, he has come to yours.

Naboo. Aldreaan. Correlia. The cities churn in his mind, alongside your image in every one of them. The flowers in your hand as you roam the fields of Naboo, the coat that doesn’t do much for the redness on the tip of your nose while you lodge in the mountains of Alderaan. The exquisite jewelry you wear to a Correlian masquerade, outshining every debutante in the room. He imagines the people hypnotized by your presence (what can they be, other than blessed), or you gliding among them (after all, discretion was your powerful suit). And the worst of all, he thinks of the man escorting you, claiming their dances, bringing you a glass of their rare wines, walking with you in the natural scene, their savage arms around you, their hands groping your curves, pulling sweet sounds from you.

(No, the purpose of his visit was not that. )

He invites himself in from your open balcony, catching you as you start your nightly routine. You’re taking off your hairpins, when he does the courtesy of knocking on the glass, startling you just a little. You jump, but thankfully do not scream, the reflex somehow suppressed. Truth be told, it’s not because your shock actually dwindles. If anything, it is redirected into a different question, going from “What the fuck was that?” to “Why the fuck is he here?”

“Good night, darling.” He gestures for you to sit again, and you do, returning to your chair in front of the vanity. Your head has to crane in a strange way for you to see him, but thankfully, he comes closer and solves the problem, eyes meeting through the mirror. And his face lights up as he sets foot in the room, like he too has forgotten everything but this moment, his jealousy and desperation left behind the walls. That’s how the question of “What are you doing here?” is not immediately articulated.

Instead, you say, “Good night, Obi Wan.”

“I see I managed to visit you just in time.” Look at him, fixing his beard, laughing nervously. He just climbed to the second floor, and his heart only got racing now.

“Lucky you.” Honestly, you don't think there's a “wrong time” in his perspective, at least when it comes to you. A few minutes later, and he'd see you in your nightgown. Would that deter him from setting his foot in here? Most, most, most likely, no. Don't dwell on that thought, though. “And what do I owe the pleasure?” You try not to focus too much on the fact that you have him and your bed in the same frame, through the reflection.

“I thought I would see you today.” Is that sarcasm in his tone, or a little bit of self-humiliation?

This must be some sort of a Shakespeare play, right?

Oh my God, it is.

“Ah.” You fiddle with your hairbrush, the eye contact broken, your attempt to stop any matter from escalating this night. Any matter. Not that you had any questions when it came to his morals, he probably was the one person you’d never doubt, but in terms of his intentions to be here tonight startled you in a much different light. “I slept in late today. Didn’t even leave the house.”

Oh. That makes quite the sense.

“Actually I still feel a little bit exhausted.”

“That’s because you had too much fun without me last night.” A treacherous scoff falls from his lips as he shakes his head. The moment that the tides turn. The one that brings back all the crude questions.

“What? No? What do you mean?” For all your effort to remain calm, you look alarmed, that tired face with doe eyes showing it all, and he feels sorry for a second, troubling you over his overthinking ass.

Then, he spots the bracelet you wore last night, lying haphazardly over a piece of paper on the corner of the table. It looks very much like a letter.

It’s not hard for him to advance his speculations.

“I think you know it already.”

“Obi Wan.” You twist to actually face him, your arm on the back of the chair. “Why are you here?”

He takes a few steps back, as if the air is stolen from the short distance between the two of you. He runs a hand through his hair, undisturbed by its messy result. You can see him biting into his cheeks, trying to select the right words. In the end, all that effort seems unnecessary, because when he speaks, the sentence can’t be any simpler. “Who was the man you spent an hour with last night?”

Wincing, you take a few seconds to process. It’s not about the answer, but his motive, his audacity that irks you. You stand up and speak. This time, your voice is sharp as ice. “That’s none of your business.”

He blinks a few times, so sure of his righteousness, and determined. “You were in my house, at our ball, dancing and talking with strangers and not even glancing in my direction for the better half of the night. I think it’s some of my business.”

“I was by your side for much longer than it is acceptable, Kenobi, do I need to remind you? We danced six times and greeted the majority of guests together.” You’ll not let the truth be ignored. “Any longer than that and there would be rumors all over the society today, and even I would’ve heard about it despite staying here all day. I didn’t come this much by pushing boundaries at every fucking chance I get. I picked my battles, the thing you seem incapable of.”

“So, am I to understand, this thing between us,” The look on his face dares you to deny the existence of it, “is not worth picking?”

This is the possibility that scared you. And for good reason, it seems. You close your eyes, in order to not roll them, and purse your lips. He uses the moment to reach for your arms, like he could appeal for an answer from you. “Don’t you love what we have?”

You couldn’t feel any worse under the warmth of his hands, affection pouring out of them despite the rage in him. “I love what we had.”

“Had?”

“It’s obvious that we can’t keep doing this, is it not?”

Confusion leaves its place to anger once more, for all the wrong reasons and his face darkens. “Oh, I see. You secured yourself a new entertainment, and now you have to get rid of the old one.”

You shrug out of his hold, distancing yourself from him. The source of the problem is not what he claims it to be, and it infuriates you, along with the accusations he taints you with. “Don't you dare reflect your own degeneration on me like that! It’s not about my damn cousin’s damn friend, it’s about you!” It is nearly a scream, the highest pitch that wouldn’t grab attention. Still, reflectively, you turn your head to the door, which you had luckily locked. “Leave now, you bastard!”

Honoring the part he was assigned in that theatre play, he focuses on the wrong part of the words, the crumbles of information giving him hope, and dim his doubts. “So there's nothing between you and him?”

Seething, you are red with fury, taking a sharp breath, pointing your finger at him like a gun. “Get. Out.”

“Is there?”

Your tongue is determined not to let him hear your words, despite the truth in them. It will not lead to any good.

But so will his closeness.

When did he get so close?

The moment you look into his ocean eyes, the decision to say anything is deemed impossible. The decision to do anything, actually. His arms cage you against the cluttered table, and yours end up on his chest, though without any intention of pushing him away.

“Answer my question, and I will.”

How could you? How can you be able to resist his utmost sincerity, the desperation in his behaviors and the brutality of his words contrasted in the way he looks at you, the caging without actually touching you. Your suffocation is only a result of your inner turmoil, the desire to spit out the truths, clear his heart and give in to the love he's handing out, but terrified of the places it will take the two of you.

“I’m waiting, darling.” You can’t help but watch his perfect lips move, his voice licking your skin.

You gulp, an action he doesn’t miss, and dares to laugh at it. Obi Wan can see the exact moment your gaze returns to being that of an eris, though the flames remind him of a different time.

A very different time.

“I hate you.” It is perhaps the most childish thing you’ve ever said in years, and it shows.

So, that’s his cue to kiss you.

For all your claims, still, he doesn’t miss the small moan you let out, swallowing it with pride. Your soft lips move against his like a habit, anticipating every move and the next, a choreography you both know all too well albeit in a much swifter tempo. Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer but his stay in the same spot, afraid to disturb you, though gripping the edges hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Though, when he tugs at your bottom lip, asking for more, you grant him that, your tongues joining the dance. You whimper, the action triggering your inhibitions to loosen up, like each second wipes the doubts away. It is a sugared water, only serving to increase the thirst instead of quenching it. So you don't stop drinking it.

Not til you absolutely have to.

“No, you don’t.”

Two seconds have to pass for you to understand his response. With his breath still warming your cheeks, even brushing them with his nose, yes he dares now, the statement is the undeniable truth.

However, not that you're ready to admit it. He already knows too much, all the things you like, all your weak spots, all of your soul.

“Yes, I- oh” And he's not the one to endure your lies. His fingers delve into your scalp, putting traction into your hair ‘til you have to tilt your head back to release the tension, forcing you to look at him through your lashes. Still, eye contact is not what he seeks, for he has as much a chance of getting lost in it as you. He uses the expanse of skin you offer, and dives in for that specific spot that has your legs going limp. It has two consequences: Firstly, you are stuck between him and the table, the latter supporting you too little that the weight rests almost entirely on his body, every plane of him touching yours. Secondly, the angle puts the mirror in the corner of your sight, and you have a maddening view of what’s happening. It is enough to make old ladies screech and faint, and artists to slave to immortalize the scene.

“You’re a bastard.” You murmur the last bit of objection, solely for the object of throwing it out of the tip of your tongue. He hears, though quite unbothered, the retort to break you further leaves his mouth readily.

“Call me whatever you want, dear, you’re the one begging for it.”

Of course, you only pant in return. Even when he threatens to nip and bite at the sensitive nerves, you don’t stop him. Furthermore, your calf twists around his as much as it is able in that impossible posture. An invitation.

“And what else would you let me do to you? Would you let me take you to your bed?”

You nod, frantically. “Yes, please Obi Wan- take me”

That’s a sentence straight out of his dreams.

The second your feet touch the ground, both of you gather the ends of your dress, yanking it out to throw it haphazardly on the floor. Your stays and chemise follow the same fate, then it is his jacket and shirt. He taps on your thigh, like he would let you walk the five meter distance between there and the bed, you jump, a little shakily (not that you ever had questions about his strength). Fuck, it excites you how easily and softly he lands you on the edge of it. You reach for his trousers, but he stops you and urges for you to scoot back, and lay down.

Because that’s the best way he can rid you of your shoes and stockings.

Your knees stick together as he works on one foot, and the other. The shoes drop with a loud thud, making you bite your lip, close your eyes for a moment and pray nobody investigates. It’s no wonder that after that small break, your pupils meet once more. How ironic that it is the cause of your concern, and the only solution.

You can feel his fingertips skimming the top of the only clothing left on you. While the touch is stimulating enough, it is the fact that you have to spread your legs a little to allow him to undress you, giving him a view of your wet pussy.

Nothing that he hasn’t seen before, but that doesn’t affect the way you tremble.

Throwing your head back, you let him slide the stretchy fabric down. Slowly. Like his piercing gaze isn’t enough. You’re squirming by the end of it, all thoughts of getting him out of his outfit gone (-or delayed, should you still believe yourself.)

Thankfully, he takes care of it, the sounds of his buttons unfastened echo in the room.

Though he has no rush to join you.

You turn your face to search for what's taking him so long, a whine in your throat when he kneels. That's unlike him.

You feel cold without his body looming over yours. And he has a hard time not to do that, not falling for the flush of red and your hard nipples. Especially when you're so gone that you may come undone just from that.

He'd like to see that.

But he has to make you understand how you keep him in that state, ignorant of his troubles, even as the solution is obvious and wanted by both sides, however the other can't accept it out of simple stubbornness.

Thus, he plays the deaf now, as he grips the supple flesh of your thighs, squeeze and move as he pleases, exposing your core to air while he busies himself with other parts. He claims you with his lips, mapping out, pushing you down to the mattress every time you jolt because he’s so close just a little to the left- But perhaps the worst is his vulgar taunts, whispered, to himself mostly, a way to speak out the anger.

“Are you this wet for all the men you hate?”

“No.” You cry, not able to stand the accusations. “It’s you.” And it is the truth. There are no other men on the planet that you would bear being treated like this by, or attempt to change their opinion of you. But now, you need him to know that. You can’t imagine a future with his back always turned to you, or be subject to his very much forced small talk with empty, or worse, hatred filled eyes. It is a reveal of a side of you that you had to keep hidden and downplay, to be free at the end of the day, give both of you an opportunity to walk out, but it doesn’t matter if the said fallout leaves his judgment of you sour. You care about his perception, and would do your best to change it should it be mixed with lies. Truth, and nothing less, is what he deserves.

A wave of relief floods his heart, that simple answer is all he wishes to hear. There’s also a bit of rage, for knowing you’d never admit it in any other circumstance. Alas, the smile appearing on his face is unstoppable. Even as he finally begins to eat you out.

A moan leaves your mouth at the first contact, which is nothing more than a small kiss. That bad, uh? As he licks everything he can reach, it turns into a whine, because it is evident he has no concern about making you cum quickly, or in a normal amount of time. He just continues to do whatever he was doing before, exploring every nook and cranny, and marking, like he intends to commit this moment to his memory. It may not have been his first time, (or the second), but he’s doing it for himself now, your desperation sadly not a priority. You also suspect he’s doing it to drive you mad, using his previous experience and remembering how sensitive you got when his beard rubbed against your skin.

“Obi Wan-“ Your back arches, a hand reaching for his hair. He stops it all by jostling your legs with a hold that could leave imprints. It takes half of your willpower to stay in the place he put you in, and that means you only have the other half to process the indescribable pleasure he’s giving. It is gonna be fast, whether he plans it or not.

“Could you actually throw this away? How can you pick anything else over this?” You knew it would be a hard transition. The magic he created is haunting and ready to jump on you in those dark corners, even after many years. There is no cure for ghosts, after all. The thought now seems impossible, the last thing that could cross your mind. Simply impossible. He emphasizes by nudging your clit, every single movement forcing a sound out of you. “That's right. I’m going to remind you how good we are together, make you feel so good that you'll forget anything but us.”

The passion in his words scares you, but it would be a lie to say they don't excite you in some way, making your heart flutter in your chest at his devotion and to be able to still feel safe only supported by the honest bond you two have. You chant his name as he smothers himself in your folds, sucking and flicking your raw bundle of nerves. He loves to feel you twitch when you are overwhelmed, but not enough to climax.

Then, he scrapes your clit with his teeth, and you're gushing, head thrown back, a silent scream in your mouth. The hot lava inside you doesn't cool down, paying its visit to every part of you, making stars explode behind your eyes and body trash against the sheets. To be perfectly honest, he didn't expect this much either, his strong muscles tightened to keep you from closing your legs, a string of curses muttered at the obscenity of it all. As always, your bliss only augments his own, especially at the sight of your essence flowing out of you. He has to drink it all in. Thus, he doesn’t stop, unbothered by the subtle sway of your hips, or the slight tug at his strands. He has no objection to them, on the contrary, he would encourage them if he didn't have to abandon his task to say the words. The slow movements of his tongue create constant stimulation in your already delicate nerves. Your second orgasm crashes you like a clap of thunder, leaves you sobbing and shaking. It uses all the energy in your already spent muscles, wipes every argument from your mind and removes those troubling emotions from your soul. The interesting thing, is that you have no oppositions to the matter. Why would there be? Could there be a sweeter arrangement? Isn’t it better than a dream? You speak the truths, and he worships you. You pay him the respect he deserves, and he tries to honor it in every chance. You don't complete his personality, you enhance it, and in return, he uses everything in his power to make your day better.

It is not that simple, a voice speaks from the back of your head, but it's too silent to have an importance.

Likewise, some of his ideas are dismayed just as easily. Pity. He had every intention of taking you from behind, not letting you get away before painting your ass red, and watch you crawl back to him still even when he teased you that badly, but you seem too gone, too weak to lift your hips up. And it is not a big deal anymore, because he's equally excited to have you like this, lying on your back, legs hugging his torso. Like your first time. The parallel is unintentional, but more than welcomed. How much and how little has changed since then? He leans in for a kiss, and fuck, your mouth is greets him too purely, like he's not covered in your slick. There's something more than lust that drives you, evident in the way you move, like you’re carving out a promise on his lips. The sounds that you produce are not in desperation, but gratitude, not weary of the periods of suspense but glad that it is over. His fingers travel the length of your abdomen, all blame on him for the coldness of your skin and the way you shiver. When he circles your nipples with his thumb, you sigh, and press yourself to him.

“You take care of me like no other, Obi Wan.” You whisper as you cup his cheek. You should’ve told him sooner. It was the least you could do.

He has no answer, and he doesn’t need one. Holding your wrist at the sides of your head angrily and meeting with your tongue is more than enough of an explanation, just like the one you made a little too late, beautiful controversies. You both are unaware of how your hips rub against each other, without hurry, ‘til his cock catches your entrance. Your breathing becomes erratic, considering you didn’t get a prep or had any in some while, and he’s big.

“Are you gonna let me in, sweetheart?”

“I need you.” You almost wail, despite knowing it will be too much. It’s not about pleasing him, either, for these things are not given up as sacrifices, ever. What matters is that you’re together, and that is always good. “Please, I want you.”

Could he ever refuse?

He takes his time, relishing the surrender of your tight walls, and brave noises, replied with his own moans. Your pants are guiding as much as they are troubling, making him even harder. He swears he’s about to burst when you outright sob while he brushes your areolas. Your back raises, an attempt to get his fingers a little higher, and your eyelids flutter close with the movement.

Make no mistake, your face scrunched up in delight is a sight to behold, but he can’t compromise having your eyes closed, sparing him from that glossy, burning gaze you have when he tears you apart. He needs to see them lose all coherent thought, see those doubts fly away and light up with pleasure.

“Look at me, dearest.” Right, aren’t you more than acquainted with his most important wish? He pleads, the softest tone that spilled from his lips tonight. Your heart skips a beat although you’re not exactly capable of processing that information. Needless to say, you don’t oblige to his wish, not when you are so spent.

Obi Wan groans, his hand flying up to turn your chin. At that moment, all fall silent. You get lost in his stormy eyes, and so does he. Though his cock twitches in your quivering channel, that’s not the point.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He blurts. Then, the other truths demand to be told too. “I don't like the way they look at you. I don't like how they don't know how blessed they are by your presence. Shit, I hate it when they know it too. I hate to think those who got to memorize you this closely, even those you knew before me.”

Even those you knew before me. “Obi Wan, you're-”

“Crazy? I'll admit, I am crazy when it comes to you.”

“I never-” You have to drown a whimper as he continues his deep, slow strokes, “asked for any of it.”

“Of course, dear. I know, I know it's not you, but them. But I can hardly stop myself from reaching out and pulling you out from their sigh. Or wrap my hands around you, let them see what we share. They wouldn't dare anymore, if they knew the lines you left on my back.” It takes an incredible amount of will not to thrust into you faster, with where his ideas lead him to. “Would you let me mark you from the inside?”

Fuck, why does his words make their way into your heart without ringing those alarm bells you have ready at all times? How does he move past them so easily?

Or do you let him, and take those rings as a cheery tune of his nearing presence, and not a warning as they must be?

“Yes!” The feeling of him finishing anywhere but in you suddenly sounds so disgusting. You want his warmth, even though you're burning already.

His lips find yours, kissing you so hard that you'd thought he wanted to silence you. But surely, you know better, that's definitely not the case. You get to drink his sweet moans as his hands envelope you further (like it's possible). In return, he's right there to swallow your gasps, the proof of how you push yourself for him. The rest of the world stops, the urge to fill your lungs no longer necessary, nothing but the rhythm you've created, and clouds you've climbed on.

He senses your peak before you do and gives you a brief space to breathe, praises falling from his lips that you can't hear, as you shake and let out whimpers, quite loud, for you've grown used to him muffling them. He follows suit, not able to resist your walls clamping down on him, painting your insides with a heavenly moan.

It takes a second for both of your bearings to return, for the night to evolve into a chilly summer night it was simply meant to be. The coldness is especially remarkable as sweat cools down. A towel wipes them rather quickly, but it's never as warm as having the other around. Your usual remedy, a nightgown, is no use either, even if he helps you put it on. It is such a whiplash that makes you question everything about the last hour. You're left with burning cheeks as he collects your clothes from the floor, hanging them on the divider, then his- but he does the same to them?

“What are you doing?” You croak, a minute of silence for your vocal cords. “I don't cuddle.” That's a harsh sentence, but it's the truth.

“And I don't leave the person I love in the middle of the night to freeze.” He's holding a candle, the only lit candle in the room, and his face is illuminated beyond anything else and it could be said that he is the source of light.

The person I love. His words break down the last resolve you have, and you're left to figure out how you feel about it as he kills the flame, and slides into the sheets behind you. You'd think the sensation of his chest pressed to your back would keep you wide awake, but no, it's weirdly new yet familiar, enough to lull to sleep. Also, his scent is mesmerizing, and you never had it this close and constant.

And for him, he had no trouble whatsoever from the start, but this is far better than expected, that he is sure he is living the best moment of his fate. The softness of you, in his arms, drifting into heavy dreams. It is a treasure for him to see that you can relax beside him, allow him to feel the regularity of breaths, showing your most natural self.

But the morning is anything like the night.

You wake up from the orange lights of the rising sun, when he gently combs your hair out of your face. There's a fatigue in your muscles, alongside that sweet tinge of pleasure still lingering, making it all bearable. Your skin runs hot where he holds you, your back, your waist, your intertwined legs… The slight prickle of his beard is not pronounced when it's rolling on your shoulder, especially as it's followed by small pecks. He's unable to resist, your intoxicating smell pronounced in the cove of your neck, right under his nose. Only when he feels somewhat satisfied, and you seem a little more conscious, the tonus of your body increasing, he talks.

You weren't ready for his morning voice.

“Good morning, love.” His hand rises to soothe the redness rising where his chin was pressed. Delicate all over. “I’m afraid I must get going, for both of us’ sake.”

You give an affirming hum, and swiftly roll out. Your body betrays you without delay, a shiver seizing you, protesting the lack of his heat. You shake your shoulders, not so subtly but it's not like you can cringe. It is your band aid, and you're ripping it out.

You reach for a robe and put it on rather easily for your questionable nerves and state of mind.

“Darling?”

“Yes, you should really get going, Obi Wan.” Fuck, that sounds still more aggressive than you are, or you ever intended, a mirror of the storms in your mind.

“What's the matter?” He's awfully quick to put on his trousers and come near you once again. He looks into your eyes, unobscured by your hair, and then there's that look of reveal on his face, the point of no return. He says your name, a final plead and a warning.

“You must leave soon.” This time, you’re a little softer, but it is nowhere near normal, considering what you shared.

“You think last night was a mistake.” He’s never sounded colder, and you have to focus not to bite your lip. The stern expression on his face is unbecoming of him, but it’s also a great reflection of his fidelity. Now, the other side of the coin shows itself, with his icy eyes and clenched jaw.

“I never-“ said that. Though, is there any possibility of you explaining what you feel? The doubts, the unfamiliarity of these feelings. Could you say, I’m not sure about this thing in between us, without creating the same effect of his claimed words?

There’s a second of silence, as he’s giving you one last chance to speak up. You know, you know that the moment you try, he’s going to break that heartless look, and put his loving hand out.

“For someone who thinks it was a mistake, you don't seem regretful at all.”

“Because it's not, and I don’t!” The confession is for him, but it is hard on you. But that doesn’t mean you’re willing to repeat it. “But it can become one. This has to stop. We can’t go further than this.”

“Why?” He’s trying his best not to raise his voice in this quiet, quiet hour.

“Because this is just- just an infatuation. It will go away. And to remember this time as a good one, we have to be careful, and we’re starting to lose that sense.”

An infatuation. That is the strangest insult he’s ever heard, but the worst nonetheless. An infatuation. The more he repeats the word in his mind, the more his anger grows, with a goal to show you otherwise.

“This is not what happened last night, and you know it.” He was as clear as day, and you honored that likewise. There was no lie. “If this is about you getting pregnant, I swear -”

“No, that's not it.” For once, you show something about the bond you have. “I have no concerns about you, or the whole society, should that happen. I’d even happily move away somewhere nobody knows my name and raise them.”

Why is that option uttered, when there are far easier choices to make? “You’d rather build a new life than marry me?”

You remain silent once more, owning the coward you are. This is exactly why this wouldn’t work, anyways. He shakes his head, catching himself still thinking of ways to convince you, to work through the problem. He even thinks of walking out of the main door, and running into your father's study, forcing your hand in marriage.

You can see that thought play in his head as his gaze becomes fixated on the door.

"See. That's why.” You beg. “This is just an obsession, and you are maddened with it. You can't see reason, or listen to the sound of it, and I can't watch you make decisions like this. Is this how you actually want to treat me? Blackmail your way into marrying me?”

“So, this is what you think of me.” Blackmail.

“No, Obi Wan, are you even listening to me?” You cover your face with your hands, a moment to recollect yourself. “Do you know when my next trip is scheduled?”

Oh. You and your infamous life on the roads.

“In three days. And do you know I already postponed it once?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we have very different lifestyles, and they are not compatible.”

“Or maybe, you are running from something so long that it has become a habit.”

“I do it because I like it. Because I promised people that I would see them before the end of autumn.” The latter part of your answer is not in your favor, but his, a product of overthinking. You discover that a little too late. He sees it too, along with the fragile curl of your lips, but doesn’t use it against you. Not anymore.

“I wish you a safe trip, then.” That’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to regret your preferences, as he takes a step back, and dresses himself in a blink with perfection. It causes you to feel vulnerable, like his stoic face and impeccable outfit which somehow looks even more put together than yesterday, when he was helped to put it on, paints him like a statue of a Greek god who is putting you on trial.

A trial that you fail.

Yet, by not punishing you, he gives you the worst sentence: Incarceration with your conscience.

#star wars #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi wan smut #obi wan kenobi smut #obi-wan smut #obi-wan kenobi smut #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi fluff

81 notes · View notes