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#i need like 30 shelves
zevrans · 5 months
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#it's my last shift in 2 days and then i'm leaving this job i'm actually so happy i no longer has to work there! 🎉#i need to find a new one asap of course but i never had energy to do so on my off days so i'll focus on that now#i've endured the hardest shifts with freezing -25-30 °C where the heater conditioner did absolutely nothing#shifts with the roof leaking trying to not let the orders of customers get wet constantly wiping shelves throughout 2 days on top#of everything i has to do#these past 2 days sewage system froze and i had no water to wash my hands or use the restroom properly..🤦‍♀️#i know the wet hand wipes are bad for ecology but man they continously saved me and also i had to wash my hands using water from kettle and#i had to do it outside freezing of course because the sink and restroom are in another building and i didnt have time to constantly walk#there.. and this on top of 2 last weeks of december being especially batshit crazy stressful and having heated karen encounters each shift.#and it was so hard on me because i am a nonconfrontational person and i don't like arguing with people#but i learned so much in these months of working there and for that experience i am still grateful :")#it's bittersweet that i won't see the friendly regulars that were always kind to me anymore tho 😔 and my coworker came yesterday#and we spoke for like an hour or so and he said he is is sad that i'm leaving because i'm such a nice person and a great coworker 🥺#ngl this made me sad too but life goes on.. he said he'll be leaving in a month too#said he didn't think that i'll leave first 😂#i woke up almost an hour ago from 3 bg3 related dreams in a row btw 😂🤦‍♀️ i need to play 🙈 ok i need to get up first..😭#tbd
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running-in-the-dark · 2 months
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help I can't stop thinking about furniture. it's keeping me from thinking about the other way more important things I need to be thinking about (Jenkins, Dan Fielding, etc.)
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what if I told y’all I got these for $28
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alright who the fiddly diddly fuck let this man give her six fingers and five toes that is an irresponsible amount of appendages
anyway its her
i was gonna draw a version of her with clothes on as well but somehow mr sam fennah managed to make a character that is an absolute bitch to draw so obviously i did the most courageous thing an artist can do and gave the hell up
im expecting her at my door shortly to strangle me and use my guts as a new scarf and if she does not arrive i wont be mad but i will be very disappointed
(watch satellite city and buy amygdala on february 15th if you havent ok do it do it now)
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artemisbarnowl · 1 year
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Sometimes you just gotta be listening to Celine Dions 'My heart will go on' to get through mopping the floor okay?
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weaselle · 3 months
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it was too much i had to make my own post
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line cook here. ACCURATE
if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.
it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.
The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.
So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.
(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)
Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.
More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.
So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.
all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.
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while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays
Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.
Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.
The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.
Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself
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you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)
If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.
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Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there
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Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in
oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?
water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.
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Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!
The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.
You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)
THE POINT IS
by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.
For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.
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if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.
you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.
See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?
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those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...
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And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...
Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.
In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.
IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO
open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.
Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.
It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.
but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.
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unclefungusthegoat · 3 months
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My cat is so mad every day I’m on my laptop because he can’t sit in my lap and can’t sit on the computer but my legs are right there and I have a footstool right next to my arm and a shelf for him above the couch but nooo, how dare I have anything else in my lap
#emma posts#I don’t want to get one of those beside the couch laptop desks because it would only be useful for my laptop and cost more than my lap desk#but he’s pushing it#if I start to cave in about my laptop though he won’t take anything else seriously#fuck my sketchbooks tablet and regular books#only HE#he already does this but is worse without the lap desk#and even more mad when i have to use my regular desk#I should probably get a better office chair#I keep falling out of that one and getting back pain#it was 30$ and has pretty much no support#but I still need to buy a kitchen table#my grandparents really want to buy me something for my apartment but I’ve already gotten most of what I’ve needed and have been using#a folding table without issue for over a year#i just keep forgetting I’m using a folding table and chair until someone points it out#like ‘oh yeah. this was something I was borrowing from family that had it for events#but they haven’t had any events that needed it#but I bought my desk and living room furniture and a lot of shelves and kitchen stuff over the last few years#and sometimes family would be getting rid of something old and be like ‘you want a shitty old mattress? it still works but it’s like twice#your age’ and I was like ‘hell yeah free bed’#the town i moved to has a big ass thrift store too. and I have a big family#I know I’m lucky that way#though it would be nicer if people stopped dieing all the time#three downsides to a big family: hard to keep track of new people. some of your relatives will be crazy in a bad way. and people just keep#dying all the time. people are also born all the time. but seeing your family for funerals and being squished together in a church to#try and awkwardly process that the aunt you saw once a year lately just died#feels really weird and overwhelming#at least when grandma died I was a traumatized wreck. everyone seems to know how that works#not that I was happy with that or anything. it’s just weird when you feel distant during the ceremony
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nerdpoe · 6 days
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Tim, 18 and bored out of his mind in his big CEO office, is interrupted by a scrawny teenager.
"Hey, I heard Wayne Enterprises gives out like, grants and stuff," the teen starts, clearly awkward and blushing green. "I need money to hire lawyers to put away my creepy GodFather for misuse of a mind-controlling Meta Ability and also stalking."
Tim shelves that.
Takes a look at the teen, probably Damian's age or thereabouts, that just floated through his wall of windows at over 30 stories.
White hair, floating, green eyes (lazarus green what the fuck), jumpsuit (he's never seen that logo and is already memorizing it), fidgeting.
Tim takes what the teen just said off the shelf.
"And your godfather is...?"
"Can't say without giving away who I am."
"Okay. How is he 'creepy'?"
"Keeps trying to brainwash me into being his son, or tries to clone me, keeps sending goons after me, keeps trying to win over my mom, won't stop cosplaying as dracula, and I don't really know off the top of my head. I made a list, but it's like...somewhere."
Tim took a deep breath.
Held it.
Let it go.
That reminded him way too much of Ra's.
Held out his black Amex.
"Go crazy."
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sabertoothwalrus · 4 months
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so I’ve been gaining a lot of insight into the animation industry recently, especially in regards to pitching & the creation of new shows. There’s a few ways to go about it.
First, there’s pitching to a studio. When you pitch, it has to be SHORT and CONCISE. You may write a lovingly detailed pitch bible that perfectly breaks down episodes and characterizations, and it might barely even get read. First impressions, first impressions, first impressions!
Most peoples’ first projects don’t get picked up. I’ve heard a few stories from directors that said they tried pitching a story they’d had for years, which got rejected, to then spend a week or even several hours in their car coming up with a new idea, only for that to get greenlit.
But that’s not the end of it. Just because a show gets greenlit, doesn’t mean it will ever get finished. There’s lots of things that can happen. Sometimes, unexpected major world events (like… a global pandemic) can cause projects to get chopped. Sometimes, a CEO change or studio merge means a single person can decide a project “no longer fits with the company’s brand.” Sometimes, the one producer that was rooting for your project gets laid off, and no one else cares enough, so it gets shelved. Sometimes, a streaming service decides to create an animation department, and then they decide they don’t want it anymore. Sometimes, the studio will be simultaneously be developing another project that was too similar to yours and they just didn’t think to tell you until they decide yours is the one with less potential.
On top of that, almost everyone in the industry is saying that “studios just don’t pick up original content anymore.” Studios want something they can franchise, something that will bring in money. New content is risky. Established fanbases are safer.
However! Studios can still be a very good thing. They can be unionized. They can provide better benefits and resources. They can have connections and infrastructure and a larger volume of workers. At a studio, you can divide the labor and produce more in less time. Longer episodes, longer seasons, more consistency in quality.
But this comes with all of the disadvantages of having more in the kitchen.
The alternative is indie animation.
With indie animation, you have total freedom. Full artistic control. It doesn’t even matter if your idea sucks ass, because there’s no one to tell you you can’t make it. You could make it anyway, and you can make it whatever you wanted.
The thing is, making animation is hard. In my production class last semester, the average maximum animation one person could make in that timeframe was 30-60 seconds, and that’s not even counting background design, sound design, or cleanup/color. To make a 5 minute animated short, you should probably have at least 5 people.
And it is CRUCIAL you have a production manager. Ideally someone who’s not already doing art for the project. Most projects without a production manager will fall apart pretty quickly. Once the adrenaline and impulse-fueled motivation wears off, you need someone to hold you accountable and enforce deadlines and proper time management.
Speaking of time, that’s also hard to get. The more people you have, the more likely schedules won’t line up. Most people will have school, or other jobs.
And it costs MONEY!!!!!! You either have everyone work for free and volunteer their time & energy, or you establish a business as a proper indie studio, with people who may or may not have experience on how to handle paying someone else’s salary. And the money has to come from somewhere, so you have to rely on crowdfunding like patreon or kickstarter. (This, by the way, is why I could never fault an indie animation for releasing merch with their pilot.)
And like, maybe you wanna do a series, and all your friends agree to volunteer their labor and time to make the first episode, but it was unanimously not sustainable. Deciding not to produce a second episode until you can raise enough money is not being suddenly greedy, it’s attempting to compensate people rather than expecting them to be continuously taken advantage of.
You have to consider your output as well. There are some outliers like Worthikids, who afaik does all his animation himself, and afaik can work on it full-time thanks to his patreon subscribers. And he still has only produced a total of 30 minutes of animation (for Big Top Burger specifically) in the past 4 years. This is an IMPRESSIVE feat and this is with using a lot of 3D as part of his pipeline!!
Indie animation also has the complication of being more accessible for fandoms. When you’re posting your Official Canon Content on youtube, it doesn’t look a lot different than the fandom-created video essay in the sidebar next to it. What’s canon vs what’s fanon becomes less distinguishable. The boundaries are blurrier. When the creator is just some guy you follow on twitter, it’s easier to prod them for info regarding ships and theories and word-of-god confirmation. They don’t have a PR team or entire international tv networks to appeal to. And this is when creators get frustrated that their fans snowball and turn their creation into something they don’t recognize (and no longer enjoy) anymore.
So it’s tricky.
Thankfully, the threshold to learn animation is fairly low nowadays!! There are TONS of resources online to learn it on your own without forking over a couple hundred thousand to a private art college. There are conventions and discord servers and events where you can network, if you know where to look.
I know it can seem discouraging in the face of capitalism, but I think that’s all the more reason why it’s so important to BE DETERMINED about animation!! We’re already starting to see the beginning of an indie animation boom, and I think it’s a testament to humanity’s desire to tell stories and create art. Even if there’s no financial gain, we do whatever it takes to tell our stories anyway.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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Dark! Yandere! Leon Kennedy Headcanons
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Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Possessive Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Mention of Plotting, Mentions of Smut, Non-Explicit Depictions of Smut, Mention of Dirty Talk, Mention of Overstimulation, Mention of Choking, Mention of Power Imbalance, Mention of Manhandling, Mention of Aftercare, Dominant! Leon, Rough Leon, Feral Leon, Paranoid Leon, Leon just wants Validation <3, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You'.
SFW
Possessive doesn’t even begin to describe how Leon acts around you.
Territorial may be how you describe him to your friends – a compliment, really.
But the fact that he never lets you out of his sight and worries about you whenever you’re not in his immediate vicinity is…telling, to say the least.
Calls you every 30 minutes on the rare occasion that you’re not together.
“Are you okay ?”, “Are you hurt ?”, “Do you need me to come over ?”
Paranoid aaah Leon.
But he means well – you know that much.
Once, you joked that the two of you “Might as well move in together if we’re going to talk this much !”
And that started putting ideas in Leon’s head.
He does have the notion of staging a break-in at your current home address so that you’ll feel unsafe and be more likely to move in with him.
But he doesn’t want you being traumatised like he is. Not by his hand.
But can you blame his rather questionable behaviour ?
After everything he went through in RE2 and RE4, you’d have been surprised if he didn’t turn out the way he had.
Despite all that, he’s a good boyfriend :>
Does anything and everything you ask him to, without question.
Scarily loyal.
And he expects you to be the same.
That being said, he doesn’t get jealous, as such.
Rather, he believes that the guy who’s been glancing at you every minute or so is planning on attacking you.
Not on Leon’s watch.
Scary dog privilege. Though your ‘scary dog’ is rather pretty; he just has an intimidating glare and figure.
Due to this paranoia and constant anxiety about your health and wellbeing, Yandere! Leon prefers an S/O who’s reclusive, one that doesn’t venture beyond their home very often.
It makes it easier for him to survey you, makes him feel more at ease knowing that you’re tucked away someplace safe.
Well, not entirely safe. Leon firmly believes that you can never be entirely avoidant of disaster unless you’re with him 24/7.
Not sure if you’ve noticed, but Leon has a *sliiight* saviour complex.
He wants to feel strong and dependable – to counteract all that the events of RE2 forced him to feel.
While this manifests in his wild daydreams about saving you from some undead horror straight out of a zombie movie (or real life, in Leon’s case), this manifests in more subtle situations in your day-to-day life.
He’ll open a jar for you, or reach something off the top shelf (regardless of whether you can reach it or not).
Don’t ask how he knew you were going to have trouble opening that particular jar, or that you wouldn’t reach your favourite mug that was placed a few shelves higher than it was yesterday.
It makes his chest swell with pride and strokes his ego.
But, as much as Leon likes it when you’re dependent on him, he does want you to have a fighting chance if the unthinkable should happen – that he’s not around to save you.
He tries teaching you self-defence, which, while you appreciate the thought, you tell him is unnecessary.
Yes, you know (vaguely) about what happened during Leon’s missions (though he is typically quite scant on the specifics, not wanting to worry you or drive you from him, as selfish as he believes that desire is).
But when you tell him that “I don’t need to know self-defence,” and Leon, cautious, asks ‘why ?’ you hit him with an answer far better than anything he’s fantasised about. And trust when I say that Leon has fantasised about you. A lot.
“Because I have you to protect me !”
As well-intentioned and innocent as your statement is, something within Leon breaks. Snaps.
NSFW
He has you under him quicker than you can blink.
His territorial, possessive nature filters through into the way he claims you – marks you.
He doesn’t bite you, though.
Years of trauma with the snapping jaws of zombies has put him off the idea.
But he sucks bruises into your skin, goes harder than intended when he turns feral, gripping your thighs, your arms, your sides – anything accessible to him.
And though he tries his best never to hurt you, he does end up losing himself whenever he gets like this.
Not that you mind.
His lips dip beside your head, and you can hear him say “You’re mine. All mine,” as he holds your body hostage.
He has a lot of endurance and an abundance of excess energy (usually emotional), so he ends up overstimulating you a good deal of the time.
Just pounding into you long after you’ve finished, his face buried into your neck, breathing becoming uneven as he works another euphoric release out of the both of you.
Say his name and he’ll go wild.
“Say it again,” he pants, his chest to yours as he takes you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can protect you – the only one who– aah! –you love–”
I understand why people say Leon’s a switch with bottom lean, but consider that time in RE4 when he said that “Following a lady’s lead just isn’t my style,”
You can’t say that there isn’t at least a remnant of top energy in there.
Hence, Leon – at the very least Yandere! Leon – can be quite…dominant.
As evidenced above.
Also evidenced by the fact that he gets off on the fact you’re weaker or smaller than him.
Doesn’t matter how tall you are, how much muscle you have; Leon is stronger both mentally and physically.
Though, this is somewhat of a guilty pleasure. But he has no problem letting you know what he’s thinking.
“God, you’re so weak,” he says, voice straining with his release hanging over him.
“Say it – say you need me; that I’m the only one who can take care of you, who can make you cry like this,”
Maybe he grabs you by the throat. Maybe he chokes you a little when you’re taking too long to answer.
But, regardless of how rough he can get, Leon is a certified King of Aftercare™.
Feels absolutely abysmal if he thinks he’s hurt you, or pushed you too far.
And your part of the aftercare is purely emotional. You have to convince him that you’re fine, you’re happy. And maybe enjoyed being manhandled a little…
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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gremlingottoosilly · 8 months
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Cabin in the woods (yan!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!Horangi)
You and your friend group are definitely not a part of a typical slasher movie. Two weird guys you met at the corner store somewhere in rural Austria definitely not serial killers. You are definitely going to be saved. You are definitely not going to like being their little trophy.
TW: Yandere, Age gap(Reader in her early 20, murder husband in their late 30), Serial Killers, Mild Gore, Extreme dub-con(Bordering cnc), Blood, Horror, Kidnapping
CHAPTER 1 You meet two weird locals at the corner store in a city in the middle of Austrian woods. Your timid nature is going to be your downfall.
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Come to the woods, your assholes-of-a-friend said. Come on, he said, I know that for someone like you, dwelling in some shitty forest for three or more days only to drink mediocre beer and probably have even more mediocre sex while mosquitos are biting at your vagina sounds like your worst nightmare, but! Have you considered it could be fun? 
Yeah, you have considered it. Considered it, thought about it and already decided not to engage with the idea. Spending the holiday in your own country, your own city and by your computer was far better than running around some random Austrian forest – and so you decided to kinda…ditch the idea. 
Considering what happened in the next few days, you really should have been more true to your words. 
Because you agreed to the proposition – because you don’t want to antagonize your friends, because you already feel strained from them, because they are assholes and they continue to be assholes but they are the only ones you have. Maybe you shouldn’t rot in your room, maybe you should agree to spend Spring break with them, getting drunk in the woods and maybe chasing some wild boars across the place. 
— Sorry. 
Some asshole – not the friend one, just an asshole in general, like everyone else in this fucking country that is so stuck up at being in the woods and mountains, that you are literally going to be sick – took the last remaining bottle of coke that was still left on the shelve. You were not having it because it was almost night already, the last remaining store open in the area, and you needed your sugar fix and something to mix alcohol with so you wouldn’t get drunk and stupid immediately. 
You aren’t letting go of the bottle. 
The guy doesn’t let go either. 
— Sorry, I think I got it first. 
You hate how weak your voice is. Never be the active, social one of your friends, you’re stuck being just a dumb girl who has literally everyone walking all over her. You decided to dig your heels into the ground and sent this asshole where he belongs – so, your grip on the bottle intensifies. 
— Haven’t seen you. 
He tugs the bottle back to him – and he has some arm strength, surprisingly for someone in this town. To be quite honest, you are too intimidated by his deep, annoyed voice to even consider looking at him, so you don’t know what the guy looks like. Maybe it’s an MMA champion – celebrity shop at some weird corner stores in abandoned Austrian cities too. 
— I am very sorry, but I really, really need this bottle. 
You don’t, actually. There are multiple bottles of Pepsi right here, and not like you have a very specific preference for the drink that is bad for you. You just got tired of people walking all over you, tired of your friends that constantly getting you into their shenanigans without asking for your opinion and you just want something good happening to you at least once. So, you tug the bottle back to you, and press it against your chest, hoping that whoever this man is will get the memo and get the fuck away from you until you’ll get your pepper spray. Ah, right, you forgot to bring one…well, he doesn’t have to know about that. 
— What do you need this bottle for? 
— Important reasons. Secret reasons.
The man sneered and you finally got a good look at him. And…fuck. 
Tall, broad, maybe more on the leaner side, but you can clearly see his tight muscles that form this perfect, thin type of masculinity that makes you think about greet athletes and that weird webtoon you were occasionally reading because you don’t have anything better to do with your life. You lick your lips, nervously, suddenly aware of the fact that you wear some old hoodie, battered jeans, and exactly zero makeup – you were supposed to get chased by the bears in the forest, not a meet-cute annoying strangers. 
He is Korean if little doodles on his jacket and an accent are saying the truth. You force yourself to get your gaze away from the mask that was covering more than half of his face, black glasses that obstruct the view even more, and messy black hair – the only thing about his appearance that you can actually see. 
Maybe, it’s good that you can’t see his face – you need to get out of here, preferably with a bottle of coke and some other snacks before your friends start questioning why the only person who didn’t want to go is so reluctant about leaving the store. Besides, it’s already almost closing time and you need to gather your thoughts. With a deep sigh, you push the bottle closer to you. 
But this time, he didn’t humor you with softness. He kept it close to himself and suddenly, you are very aware of how much weaker you are than him. You could put up a good fight against a mouse, maybe, a squirrel on a good day – but in this tugging match, you were no, pun intended, match for him. You look closely at his cargo jacket – the patches look official, normal, making you think about the military and what the fuck Korean soldier is doing in the small town somewhere in the rural, touristy-foresty-mountainy part of Austria. 
— Please, sir, it’s getting silly. 
— Yes, it is. Give up now. 
He has that weird calmness in his voice – a low grumble that makes you shiver, the urge to just give up your control and present him your neck like a good pet makes you want to vomit. God, it’s humiliating – you just hope that your friends won’t be here to witness your utter humiliation. 
— I really, really need this bottle. Please? 
You master your best puppy eyes, looking at him with a half-lidded gaze, hoping he has at least a somewhat working and aching heart inside of his lean, muscular chest. The dark glasses of his don’t allow you to see his face clearly, but you can feel how he slowly eyes you from head to toe, slowing down at how much your hands are trembling at the confrontation. 
In a normal situation, you would give up already. But this isn’t a normal situation – you wanted to learn how to be brave, independent, and stand up for yourself in small things, even if your friends still going to swirl you around into making dumb decisions. 
— I was the first to grab it. Why should I give it to you? 
His voice is mesmerizing – you didn’t expect something as deep from a random stranger in the corner shop and here you are, embarrassed, cheeks heated because you want to ditch your friends and look at the random guy you just met. Ah, the tragedy of meeting someone remotely attractive and closer to your age – or at least looking like it – in a mundane place so that the horny thoughts would make room inside your head. 
— Because this would cheer me up really nice, sir. 
You master even puppier eyes – and you lick your lips some more, hoping to elongate the point of how shitty your day was, and how nice it would be, just to have a bottle of coke to cheer you up. Man lets go of a grumpy noise, shaking his head. 
“Fucking tourists” he mutters – and you feel even more embarrassed immediately. If anything, he is probably a tourist too! 
— Sir? So the coke-stealer has manners after all. 
His laugh is dry, and you want to take the bottle and leave – but when you yank it closer, he doesn’t let go. If anything, he grabs it even firmer, thin plastic deforms under his touch, and the tactical gloves he is wearing are only empathizing with the vast difference between you and him. 
— I’m not a coke-stealer. I had dibs on this bottle. 
He stares at you, tilting his head to the side. You look stubborn, like an angry little kitten – and, god fucking dammit, Horangi loved cats. Always wanted to get one or two, adorable furballs that would lay on him and Konig, maybe destroy the wildlife around their house. he loved cats and never had time to take care of them because of their combined jobs – so when he looks at this stubborn little woman – little more in her posture than actual size – he feels all the desire to take a kitten home gets straight into his pants. 
He has to find Konig. Ah, and get the bottle back. 
— Dibs don’t matter if you can’t even hold it. So, the bottle is mine. 
— Sir, if anything, this bottle can’t belong to you yet. You haven’t paid for it! 
— You too. 
— But I will. 
— Just as I am. 
He chuckles, more amused than anything. You look angry, you look pissed, you munch on your lower lip nervously because you don’t want this man to walk all over you, but you also really want his – it belongs to the state, actually – coke. So, you yank it one last time, already preparing to give up and drink Pepsi as the loser woman you are. 
Instead, the bottle goes right into your hand with ease – and you fall on your back, losing the connection between your legs and the ground. You prepare to fall and crack your head on the floor, just like a wet kitten of a person you are. 
Instead, you stumble into…something. You want to say that it’s something soft, maybe a snack aisle or the pillows that are being sold in this store for some reason, but this mysterious “something” under your cheek is firm, tense and warm. 
Just like in the worst romantic comedies you ever saw, you are crushed into a broad male’s chest. Don’t mess it up with another man’s broad chest, those are actually two very different individuals and the concentration of pecks on the square meter already makes you feel uneasy. You bite your lips nervously, wanting nothing more but to disappear – you finally have the bottle in your hands and you can swiftly retreat to the cashier on the other side of the shop, but the man behind you stops you. 
— What’s going on, Tigeren? 
Ah, good. The wall of muscles behind you smells of generic male deodorant and something metallic – and has the voice of a Greek god mixed with the most stereotypical Austrian accent ever. Not like you are an expert on accents or voices or tones because you’re not sure that Greek gods would have such high and grumbling voices, but you stand not corrected, drowning in your bad decisions. 
You feel the firm hold on your shoulder gently put you away slightly, as the man comes to touch the asshole’s hand. Softly, gently, you want someone to touch you like this. You lift your gaze from the pair and…
Did you miss a Halloween party with the tough rule of wearing a mask all the time, even when you’re going out to grab some more snacks? You lower your gaze from the man who also wears a generic black mask and dark glasses, your eyes slowly go down to his pants and…
Did you miss a horse-riding party? 
— Some tourist tried to steal my coke. Nothing, Ko. 
— I’m not a tourist. 
You mumble, under your breath. You don’t want to be here – the area suddenly becomes intoxicating, you feel out of place and you want to run away as fast as possible but the only thing you can do is to just strive on, hoping that you’d at least keep your beverage with you. You take a step to the side, hoping to retreat quietly, like a ninja – but they both notice and turn to your side immediately. 
— This is a dangerous place, lady. 
The tall guy – well, they are both tall, but the second one is fucking enormous, towering over the shelves and making you feel insignificant compared to him – grumbles it gently, almost carefully. You are inclined to listen to him, taking up his words like a damned prophecy. You know this place is dangerous – it’s a forest in the mountains of Austria, of course, it is dangerous, you tried to tell your friends this, but…well, to no avail. Useless as usual. 
— I’m aware, thank you. Can I…excuse me, I will leave now. 
— With my coke. 
Korean guy snorts, the clear amusement in his voice. You don’t like the way he emphasizes the point of you stealing it from him – you both are entitled to it, if anything, he is the weird one to think that he has some special dibs for this. The bottle is already warmed up from your combined touches and you groan from the fact – now you will have to choke on the warm cola while all of your friends have fun with their dumb alcohol cocktails and ice cubes and everything you forgot to bring because you were the last one to get here. Because you were the last one they asked to join – feeling like an afterthought, you lick your lips nervously. 
— Of course. The one you wrestled out of my hold. 
— You let go of it, sir. 
— Didn’t want to make a scene with a little thing like you. 
You feel the tips of your ears burning. Oh, how you wanted to punch both of them – the tall one and the slightly less tall one, both chuckling like a pair of grannies on the porch. Like this fucking place needed more bears. 
— You should be careful around these parts. Weird things going around. 
The mountain has spoken again – weird, but all of his phrases feel more like something straight up from a horror movie. Combined with the eerie dim light of the tiny store and his mask, it sent a shiver down your spine. Gosh, you need to watch fewer horror movies and read less terrible dark romance books. You are jumpy, nervous, anxious, everything that doesn’t combine well with a forest trip. 
You take a step back and the blue eyes follow you. When did he take off his sunglasses? Why do they both need sunglasses at night? 
He looks at you and, fucks sake, you stumble into the aisle again. With a bottle of coke in your hand, which isn’t the best weapon in the world, you stumble to the cashier. 
Cold gaze follows you. Oh, how he follows you. 
You nervously bring the coke bottle to the old man behind the counter, listening to the tired German speech – you recognize the numbers, memorize the price of a single bottle, and yet…you feel the eyes glue to your back as you desperately rummage through your pockets. You swear to god that you had cash on you this exact morning – but you go through your pockets, through your backpack, and try to search for maybe some old cents and cards. 
Nothing. 
God, you feel like a failure – embarrassed that you wasted so much time trying to get this bottle only to put it back on the shelf in defeat and…
— On me. Move your ass, tourist. 
The Korean guy notches your side and you glare at him with a mix of anger and shame – he pays for the bottle, probably grinning from how well he taught this annoying as fuck tourist a lesson, and also for the few snacks he bought, probably for himself and his…friend? Boyfriend? 
You move your ass obediently, going out of the store, and your head hangs low in defeat. Your friends are smoking outside, everyone is visibly annoyed with how long it took you only to go out empty-handed. Jenny, one of your girlfriends, a tall brunette with a perfect fucking body that shouldn’t belong to someone in the real world and not 90-era comedies, looks…worried. 
You went to ask her what was wrong, but she shook her head, looking somewhere behind you. 
You stare at the ground, watching as your shriveled shadow from the single-store light swiftly being absorbed by someone’s much larger frame. You gulp, not wanting to look behind you, knowing what – or who – you might want. 
Tall guy with a…coke bottle? Well, you weren’t expecting that. He gives you the bottle and you can almost see the condescending smile on his face as his fingers linger on your hand for longer than they should be. You take the offer, not really understanding what the fuck is really going on. 
— Thank…you? 
— No problem, kleine. 
You can hear the smile in his voice and your hands are trembling. Jenny looks at you with surprise, clearly not expecting nerdy ol’ you to pull someone so…well, not nerdy and maybe old. 
— What the fuck? Who is…
— I’ll explain in the car, alright? 
— Did you drop it or something? 
— I…I think I lost my wallet. Have you seen it? 
She stops for a second, thinking. There are a few things Jenny is good at – burning the tip of her tongue with a lighter, wearing crop tops, eating men alive (unless they are the most annoying ones alive). Lying isn’t one of them – not because she is a good person, but because she would rather flip your shit upside down and make you as upset as she possibly could. 
— Chad took it. Said you’d find the nearest bus to get the fuck out of here if you’d have it. 
He…
You can’t fucking believe this. All this humiliation because her annoying boyfriend didn’t want you to ruin this little unfriendly gathering. You feel angry tears in the corners of your eyes, almost ready to sniffle like the needy thing you are. God, you’re weak and pathetic and…
The Austrian guy behind you coughs, attracting attention. 
— Ladies like you shouldn’t go out this late. Bad things might happen. 
Jenny snorted and you already wanted to close your eyes. She was clearly not having it and she had a very short temper – you take a step back, towards her, hoping to set her down. Instead, she took one look at your pleading expressions, and it made her even more annoyed. She was never good with locals. 
— We’re getting out of this dump as soon as possible, sir. Didn’t ask for your opinion though. 
He chuckles and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. 
— Just wanted to warn you. Tourists are disappearing around these parts. 
— We’re not some dumb tourists. 
— Ach? You aren’t? 
Jenny fails to hear the amusement in her voice. You tuck the Coke bottle in your arms, hoping that they would stop. 
— We’re not a bunch of dumb tourists and we will call the police if you’d proceed harassing us. 
— Just wanted to give your friend what she forgot. Keep an eye on each other, ja? 
— We will. Fuck off before I’m calling the 9-1-1, verstehen? 
You feel even more embarrassed as she storms off to the truck where Chad and everyone else is staying, not even paying you a glance – too used to your sorry ass going right after her, like a lapdog that your other friend likes to bring everywhere in her tiny pink purse. 
You sigh, feeling horrible. The guy is creepy. Tall, looming over everyone, both of them are fucking terrifying – but they paid for the coke and the Austrian one is genuinely trying to tell you something. A bit paranoid, maybe, but you see the cargo jacket he is wearing, so he is probably either a paranoid survivalist or maybe a part of the military. You like having someone worried about your safety, even in more of a scary horror movie-esque form. 
— I’m…sorry for Jenny. She isn’t always like this, we’re just tired after a long road. 
— You were driving whole day? 
— We’re, um…on a trip. You know, a little getaway in the woods. Would have been nice. 
The giant tilts his head to the side. You just noticed that his hands are twitching a little, fidgeting with the bottom part of his jacket. You find it almost cute, endearing in a way – at least he is as anxious about talking to you as you are to him. You find yourself also fidgeting on the bottle, swirling it in your hands, never understanding what you should do in a somewhat normal social situation. 
— Be careful, kleine Hase. Like I said, it’s a dangerous place for young ladies like you. 
The way he said it, calling you a young lady, made him look extremely old – and made you feel even more embarrassed and uncertain about your future. Here you are, wasting your youth on shitty road trips to Austrian woods instead of reading horror books and watching romance movies. 
— Thank you, sir. I…I’ll keep that in mind. 
— Are you two alone on the trip? 
Alright, it was a bit creepy. his cold blue gaze bores in your face, making you feel small. 
— No, Our male friends are with us. 
He humms, almost sounding amused. 
— Good. Wouldn’t want it to be too easy. 
— Sorry? 
— Wouldn’t want someone bad to hurt you so easily. 
You smile. He is nice, even if a bit creepy – you nod slightly, taking a step towards the truck, since everyone else already got in and you still have a long road to the place of your camp. 
— Thank you for the bottle, sir. 
— You are welcome. Keep yourself safe, ja? 
You nod. 
Keeping yourself safe sure does sound nice. You can do it, right? (You can’t,  but you don’t know that yet)
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eloves-writes · 5 months
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so it goes…
[coriolanus snow x reader]
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desc: part 2 here! as dr gaul’s assistant, you find yourself alone in her laboratory bearing an unpleasant task with her other mentee, coriolanus snow, who you strongly despise. or so it goes … warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), slightly public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, think that's it but please lmk if i need to add anything! a/n: thank you so much for all the love on my last fic! and thank you anon for this request, i love and appreciate requests more than you know!!! enjoy this. will for sure write a second chapter if one singlular person expresses interest. mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni
dr gaul’s lab was filled with weird and wonderful (but mostly weird) things. you sat, bored, on your side of the gamemaker’s desk staring at shelves and shelves of creatures of all shapes and sizes with various muttations. according to the clock beside you, it had been 30 minutes since gaul herself had left the room to ‘see to something’. it was often best not to ask questions when things like that happened, but you really wished she would come back soon as your work day technically ended in a few minutes and gaul’s second-favourite mentee came to visit her after hours almost every day. coriolanus snow was not necessarily an unpleasant person, not to you at least, but he was certainly unbearable. he was so up his own ass thinking he was better than everybody else that he failed to realise how much of a pompous twat he was. ‘snow lands on top’. god, those four words were practically all you heard come out of his mouth when he wasn’t sucking up to dr gaul or spewing fake niceties to any authoritative figure who would listen.
as you were thinking about how annoying he is and how pretentious his stupid hairstyle was, the door to the lab was hauled open by the peacekeepers who stood guard outside. thank god gaul was back, you couldn’t wait to get out of here. not that you weren’t grateful for this assistant’s position, because it was a highly coveted role for university students each year and you’d beat them all out for it. even snow. ha. even suck-up snow. fuck. snow.
the tall blond had entered the lab and was walking up to your desk with his usual self-assured smile and red uniform.
“y/n, good evening.”
“snow.”
his pleasant facade dropped for just a moment at your monotonous response.
“where’s dr gaul?”
you passive aggressively put down the pen you had been tapping on the desk.
“i don’t know,” you replied blandly, studying his face like you trying to read his mind. “she left like a half hour ago to ‘see to something’, but she’s not been back. i’d suggest you leave and speak to her tomorrow instead.”
coriolanus pulled a face as if thoroughly surprised that anyone could be anything less than cordial to him. it was a subtle change in expression, but you figured that’s what he was thinking.
“that’s quite alright, y/n,” he smiled mockingly, “i’ll sit right here and wait. nowhere to be tonight.”
“shocker,” you murmured, watching as snow sat in the empty chair opposite you.
the two of you stayed sat at gaul’s desk for almost 10 minutes before either of you said anything else.
“how is the apprenticeship going?” snow asked, trying to fill the awkward silence by feigning interest.
“it’s great. thanks. thrilling, actually. i’m having the time of my life. this is so much fun,” you retorted.
coriolanus raised an eyebrow and shifted in his seat. “you know, every one of gaul’s students wanted this apprenticeship. if you’re not enjoying it, i am more than certain that you could find somebody to fill the role.”
you huffed sarcastically. “oh good try, snow. i’m not giving it up that easily.”
“so i’ve heard,” he muttered.
before you could respond to that, the laboratory doors hauled open again and dr gaul finally returned.
“ah, coriolanus, good,” she welcomed, entering with purpose in her stride. “i have a small ask of the pair of you.”
there was no way in the whole of panem that this would be a ‘small’ ask, coming from her. coriolanus’ eyes widened in apprehension.
“don’t make that face at me, coriolanus snow.”
“sorry.”
“good. i must continue to deal with a situation that has arisen, i need you two to feed chupa before he gets too hungry. that’s all, then you both may leave and i shall see you," you watched her search for a rhyme, "before tomorrow’s eve.”
then she turned to leave, with you and coriolanus pulling faces of horror. ‘chupa’ was a particularly hideous and dangerous looking creature that gaul had advised you, on multiple occasions, to keep your distance from. and now she was asking you to feed him? sometimes it was like she wanted you dead.
“wait a minute,” you said hesitantly. gaul moved only her head to look at you and you regretted opening your mouth immediately. “sorry, dr gaul, you want us,” you motioned to yourself and snow, “to feed that,” you pointed at the cage where the beast appeared to be smirking.
“yes,” she replied plainly. “he will eat anything, but he most likes the small green snakes.”
with that, she left the lab again.
coriolanus looked at you, looked at chupa, then looked back at you. “what the fuck is that?”
you snorted, enjoying seeing him uncomfortable. “do you want to get the snakes, or shall i?”
“you get them,” he spoke quickly. “i don’t like snakes.”
you were suspicious at this apparently strong aversion to the slithering reptiles. perhaps they’d scared him when he was younger, and never shook it off. or perhaps one had bitten him. you imagined him flailing his arms and screaming and it made you chuckle to yourself as you took a jar half-filled with thin, forest green snakes. they weren’t venomous, in fact they were quite amiable and undeserving of being fed to the ugly brute in the cage beside you. regardless, you removed two snakes from the jar and placed it back on the shelf.
coriolanus was keeping his distance, making you do all the work. lazy asshole.
“can you open the cage?” you directed snarkily. he tentatively unfastened the top of the cage, standing closer to you than he ever had before. up close, he looked like a real person. a real person who was just as real as everybody else in the capitol, not any better. he smelt better than a lot of them though. like cologne and fresh roses. you mentally chastised yourself for noticing and tried to focus on the task at hand.
your snake-holding hand slid towards chupa’s mouth, which opened to reveal a large set of sharp fangs that seemed to be moving upwards
“be careful of the fangs,” snow warned from behind you.
“thank you coriolanus, i’m so glad you told me that. i was truly about to stick my fingers into his mouth,” you retorted sarcastically, starting to feed the snakes to the disgusting creature.
he mumbled something incoherent that sounded something like “i wish you would.”
“sorry what was that, snow? did you say something,” you asked, becoming more irritated by his unhelpful presence.
as chupa finished the tail of the second snake, he bit the air above him in an attempt to get your hand for dessert, making you rapidly withdraw your hand from the cage and leap backwards. coriolanus dropped the lid in shock and it thankfully fastened itself.
when you had leapt backwards, you had leapt backwards straight into snow’s arms that he had instinctively wrapped around you in protection. his arms were stronger than they looked through his uniform jacket, and his chest much more toned. it felt beyond strange to be this close to him. but something deep inside of you suddenly yearned to be closer, and you slowly rotated yourself in his arms to face him, hands pressed against his chest.
coriolanus was looking into your eyes like nothing else was in the room. like he had never seen a person’s eyes this close before. he was looking at you like you were most incredibly fascinating thing he had ever seen.
and maybe you were; he had grown used to the capitol women throwing themselves at him. he didn’t struggle to take them home, had no issues finding a date to all the various events he attended. then there you were- snapping at him and poking fun at him, and not even waiting until his back was turned to roll your eyes or pull faces. in what he deemed a cruel twist of fate, you were the only girl in the capitol who didn’t look at him like he was god, and you were the only girl in the capitol he truly felt something deeper than momentary lust for.
his lust for you was not momentary. it was perpetual. and having you this close to him, safe and protected in his arms, confirmed for him that you needed to be his. the world bent to the will of coriolanus snow. and so would you.
in an instant where your body no longer obeyed your better judgment, you pressed your lips to coriolanus’.
he kissed you back like you were a source of oxygen, using his advantageous hold of you to force you to walk backwards towards the rows of bookshelves behind gaul’s desk without separating your lips. he swiftly checked the door to make sure nobody had snuck in before your bodies were eclipsed by the cover of the well-stocked shelves and you were roughly pushed up against them. snow continued to kiss you, moving down to your neck to leave marks sure to raise questions the next morning, then down to your collarbone, unbuttoning your blouse as he went so that his path was clear to mark you with his mouth all the way down to the waistband of your skirt. his kneeled down before you and pushed up your skirt, looking up at you for approval. you nodded, still caught up in the moment. this was fine. this felt good. it really felt good when snow removed your panties and placed your legs over his shoulders, holding you up at the waist and running his tongue along your folds, earning a loud moan from you. he withdrew his head from you skirt to shush you, before returning his tongue to your centre and flicking it against your clit. you bit onto your knuckle to absorb the sound of the whimpers escaping you. where the fuck had he learned to do this? it felt heavenly, his mouth drawing you ever closer to release with his large hands digging into your hips to keep you in position.
“coryo,” you whispered. “coryo, i’m close.”
he began to hum in acknowledgement, sending you right over the edge. a moan slipped from your mouth as you came, feeling your slick drip onto his face. he continued to lap at your juices as you rode out your orgasm, a blissful haze washing over you. if these were the skills making snow so cocky, you couldn’t fault him for that particular trait any longer. he lifted his head and smiled at you like a man who was very aware you’d just cum on his face by his manipulation. he helped you take your legs from his shoulders with a satisfied smirk when they wobbled under the weight of your body, then he kissed you again, softer this time, to force you to taste yourself on his tongue. you reached your hand forward to his crotch, palming him through his constricting pants. he indulged you for a minute, then removed your hand and lifted it to his lips like a true gentlemen.
you felt a little disappointed to not repay the favour, finally feeling content with your formerly repressed lust for the man.
but then he leaned down to your ear and whispered in a low tone, “you can owe me one,” before giving you one last lewd kiss and leaving you stood behind the bookshelves in the head gamemaker’s office with messed up hair and a realisation that you really wanted coriolanus snow to come and visit after hours again tomorrow.
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faetreides · 3 months
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MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER
cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you
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summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader
wc: 8.4k
cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.
requests are open (read the rules first)
block & move on if uncomfortable
do not repost or translate!!
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The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them. 
"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."
"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"
Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more. 
Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head. 
There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream. 
His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out. 
His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time. 
SHIT! 
It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often. 
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That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own. 
They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have. 
"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"
Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother. 
Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath. 
The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure. 
He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it. 
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."
He thinks you'd do even better. 
By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age. 
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He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a  quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached  the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders. 
"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."
Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"
"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him. 
Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him. 
He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you. 
"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."
You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had  to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future. 
"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes. 
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Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you. 
"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation. 
You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment. 
Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat. 
The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.
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They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them. 
The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions. 
The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.
"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face. 
Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly. 
"What's this, buddy?"
"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…” 
Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.
"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister." 
“And we can get something for my teacher?”
“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”
"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs. 
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The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize. 
Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.
The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera. 
Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards. 
Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors. 
The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse. 
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He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.
“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s. 
The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach. 
With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight. 
Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders. 
His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now. 
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His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in. 
He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down. 
His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out. 
3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body. 
Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south. 
A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher. 
An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air. 
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You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.
Thank god for oral fixations. 
“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs. 
He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind. 
Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.
The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart. 
“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger. 
Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh. 
He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length. 
And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue. 
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The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow. 
He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.
The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table. 
Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted  most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father. 
Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him  to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms. 
Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up. 
He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks. 
Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you. 
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Friday morning was ushered in by  two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping. 
“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”
 "It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face. 
Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on. 
Fuck, not again. 
He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started. 
He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness. 
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes. 
"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."
Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.
"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it. 
Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them. 
Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them. 
Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already. 
They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.
Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry. 
He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there. 
Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this. 
The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons. 
The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket  in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.  
A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children. 
"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit. 
The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.
Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.
But that could wait. 
The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back. 
Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.
 Some say that means it’s love. 
You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”
“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”
You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“ 
You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies. 
He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else. 
“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.”  He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day. 
The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.” 
If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”? 
Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you. 
“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner. 
“I actually got you something myself, but uh,  if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.” 
He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed. 
The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others
By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone. 
At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.
Whatever that meant. 
The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.) 
Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty. 
Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate. 
Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you. 
“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest. 
In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.  
You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.
“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased. 
“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply. 
Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”
“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?” 
You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.” 
Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.) 
Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act. 
Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw. 
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The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.
 “Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot. 
You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping  squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses. 
There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island. 
The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway. 
The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies. 
You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms. 
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Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that. 
The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much. 
The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more. 
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a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞
555 notes · View notes
changetyre · 4 months
Note
This may be way out there but could we get some Logan smut? TIA!
Need a hand? || Logan Sargeant x Reader ⒽⓌ
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SUMMARY: Trying to relieve some stress doesn’t go as planned but you’re not complaining ;)
WARNINGS: **18+**
A/N: First time I write for Logan but somehow got this written in like 30 minutes so let’s see how this goes :)
Being young surrounded by incredibly intelligent people in what could easily be considered one of the fastest paced environments was far more stressful than you’d anticipated
It was a dream, truly. Being able to achieve that goal of working for an F1 team was still hard to believe yet you still couldn’t deny the stress from it all.
Despite this being a smaller team it almost seemed like stress levels were higher or maybe you still simply didn’t know how to handle the chaos of it all but now a days it seemed finding even a moment to breathe was hard enough.
You needed to relieve some stress, it used to work during your stressful school days so why should’t it work now. After hours of work you’d finally been able to get a few hours of somewhat a break that you knew how you wanted to spend.
Finding an empty room in the back of the Williams hospitality you tucked yourself into a hidden corner taking out your trusted little but powerful device.
Lifting your skirt up you raised your knees up to your chest opening yourself up nicely. You tucked your panties to the side taking a deep breath before running your finger down your fold a few times lubricating yourself with your own wetness.
It was embarrassing to admit how wet you’d gotten from the simple idea of pleasuring yourself but it’d been so long since you’d had some time for yourself you were desperate.
After only a few seconds of circling your fingers around your pussy you were prepared enough to press that blue bullet vibrator to your core.
You had to remind yourself to keep quiet as you let out a sigh of relief at that pleasure you so greatly missed feeling.
“Mmm” you quietly moaned as you pressed the device deeper into you. “Uh fuck.” You took a peak past the shelves checking no one was there and you were in fact still alone before you lost yourself in your own pleasure.
Only mere minutes had passed of you running that device around your clit, occasionally pressing a few fingers inside yourself that you’d found yourself in a daze, focused solely on reaching that high you knew would relieve so much stress.
You were so lost in yourself you’d failed completely to notice as the man you worked so closely to walked into the room, curious as to the sounds he heard in his preferred hiding spot Logan was quick to investigate the source of the noise.
A small gasp escaped his lips as he found you sat atop a cupboard legs spread, panties to the side as you pressed something to your clearly wet core, your head fell back onto the wall while your chest arched in pleasure.
Logan knew this was wrong, it was completely wrong for him to simply be staring at you…and further more enjoying it. He knew he should’ve said something already, probably stopped you but quite frankly he didn’t want to.
Aside from these thoughts all he could think about was replacing your fingers with his own and that device with his own mouth.
“Need a hand?” He’d no idea where this new found confidence came from but perhaps the desire for you was enough to make him ask.
You gasped in surprise before your face turned redder than the Ferrari from embarrassment at what you’d just been caught doing. You shut your legs although Logan didn’t fail to miss how the device remained tucked between them, still audibly buzzing.
“Shit I was- I didn’t-“ you had no idea what to say.
“I don’t care…let me help you.” Logan took a few step forwards and was prepared to step away if you showed any sign of hesitancy.
But instead he noticed how with each step he took your legs seemed to open a little wider. “We probably shouldn’t” you spoke but it was such a weak attempt at stopping this that you didn’t even believe it yourself.
“We don’t have to but I’m sure it’ll help us both.” Logan suggested and you could feel his breath tickle your upper lip as he looked down at you.
“I was almost there-“ your voice was barely above a whisper but it didn’t need to be louder with Logans proximity.
“I’ll get you there don’t worry.” Logan smirked before he joined his lips with yours. You could feel as his hand trailed between your legs pressing your own fingers holding the device harder onto your core.
You moaned louder this time but thankfully it was muffled by longs mouth on yours.
"You're so wet." Logan commented as his fingers slid up and down your slit a few times before inserting two fingers inside of you.
"Agh yes-" you moaned a little louder forcing Logan to connect his lips to yours once more.
Logan could feel you were close as you clenched around his fingers and he could feel your wetness running down his fingers and onto his palm every time he curled his fingers in you.
The noises in the room were pornographic, the heavy breaths between you both, the sloppy kisses, and the squelching of your pussy every-time Logan moved his fingers inside you.
This was far better than the relief you thought you'd be getting merely a few minutes ago.
"ah ah Log- Logan I'm cumming." you cried as you felt your high wash over you, harder than it had ever before.
Your body slammed onto the wall behind you causing the shelves around you to shudder slightly as you momentarily lost control of your bodies movements.
Logan moved his fingers slower and slower as you came down from your high, your body shuddering every few seconds with the remainder of pleasure.
"That was fucking hot." Logan smirked as he placed a quick kiss to your lips before sucking his fingers clean as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Thank you." you weren't sure why or if you needed to thank him but it just felt like the right thing to say.
"Pleasure." he winked. "Let me know when you need a hand again" he waved the hand that was just inside you around. "or anything else." he said subtly before walking out the room.
You might just have to take him up on his offer in the future.
444 notes · View notes
your-bestamericangirl · 2 months
Text
Midnight Love || ch. 3 - white ferrari
Paige Bueckers x Uconnwbb!reader
previous: ch.2 - golden || next: .4 - april || masterlist
a/n: not proofread sorry baes <3
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now playing: slow dancing in the dark by joji
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She was sat on her bed, the passing clouds cast fleeting shadows over her room, enveloping her in a familiar wave of frustration. Throughout (Y/n)'s life, there had been countless instances where she wished she could freeze time, if only for a moment. In her experience, time never seemed to align in her favour; nothing ever happened at the 'right time,' and she often had to work tirelessly to make things happen. Unfortunately, her life hadn't witnessed any miracles yet, and there seemed to be no signs of any on the horizon to rescue her.
Currently, the clock displayed 5:47 PM.
A river of clothing continued to spill out of (Y/n)’s wardrobe, forming several piles scattered across her floor. Various textures and colours now adorned every crevice of her room. What started as simple 'yes,' 'no,' and 'maybe' piles quickly multiplied into categories like 'yes-if-the-weather-stays-nice' or 'maybe-but-it-would-look-better-if-my-hair-was-up'. Defeated, (Y/n) slumped from her bed to the floor. Choosing an outfit wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly in this context.
5:50 PM
Now would’ve been the perfect moment for her first miracle.
As she stared at the chaotic array of clothing before her, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping in. It wasn't just the prospect of selecting the right outfit; it was the nagging uncertainty about the evening itself, looming on the horizon like an unanswered question. After all, it wasn't like she was getting dressed up for media day, it was just the rest of the team. She found herself second-guessing the decision to go at all. With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) pushed herself off the floor, resolving to make a decision one way or another. As she stood there amidst the scattered clothes, (Y/n) tried to rack her brain for what had compelled her to agree to this outing in the first place.
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***That morning
"And good Lord, right then and there, I wished I could’ve just gotten killed earlier on when I was in that shark tank because my mom appeared, mad as hell, and was ready to slap the shit outta me-”
Absentmindedly, (Y/n) hummed in agreement as her eyes scanned the fully stocked shelves. The aroma of freshly baked bread from the nearby bakery section wafted through the air, making (Y/n)'s stomach growl in protest at its emptiness. For the past four aisles, KK had been recounting her so-called horrifying dream from the night before, all from inside their shopping cart. While the first 30 seconds had been captivating, (Y/n) soon realized that KK was far from done. This dream had been so 'emotionally and mentally impactful' that KK felt compelled to act out her car chase scene, resulting in her abandoning the cart. After the fateful crash, the two found themselves with a worker trailing them from behind, ready to intervene with KK’s boisterous antics if needed.
The restock of the week was greatly needed. With the pantry, kitchen, and fruit bowl left with nothing but dust, both girls’ moods had increasingly deteriorated from the day before. As KK continued to recount her experience, (Y/n) was left with the task of finding what they needed. “Mhmm, sounds traumatic speaking of that. What else do we need?”
KK gave her a look. “Yeah, it was. Thank you for your consideration.”
 “Always for you. But you didn’t answer my question—what else do we need?”
Realizing that KK couldn’t wring out any more sympathy from (Y/n), she shifted her focus from recounting her painful nightmare to recalling the items on the grocery list she conveniently left at home—a detail she kept from the older girl.
“Uh, okay damn. I think like… meat?” 
The cart suddenly jerked to a halt, catching KK off guard. She lurched forward, instinctively steadying herself on the shopping cart. The harsh fluorescent lighting overhead felt too intense for the early morning, casting stark shadows across the aisles. 
KK turned around to face her roommate, ready to berate her for the sudden maneuver. However, the words of distaste dissolved on her tongue as she beheld (Y/n)'s expression. The older girl stood before her, eyes closed, brows furrowed in the middle, teetering between disbelief and strained patience. KK would be grateful to come out of this conversation unscathed.
(Y/n)'s tone was short, “KK.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
With a deep inhale, (Y/n) gripped the shopping cart, her fingers tightening around the metal handle as she suppressed the urge to vent her frustration. Swallowing back all the profanities that came to mind, she managed a strained smile. 
“What type of meat?”
“You know, like, bruschetta… maybe some bacon-”
“Maybe?” (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, her patience waning.
KK chuckled, the sound bouncing off the fluorescent-lit aisles. “Nah, just kidding. We definitely need bacon. And also… Oh shit… Ice?”
(Y/n) blinked, the abrupt shift in conversation catching her off guard. “...Ice? KK, are you good? Because last time I checked, you were the one who brought up meat in the first place.”
In response, KK stood up from her position in the shopping cart, the metal rattling as she shifted her weight. “No look, it’s Ice.”
Following KK’s gaze, she then spotted Ice Brady in the next aisle. The 6’3 forward struggled to fit numerous bags of chips into her shopping basket, her arms stretched to their limits.
With a resigned sigh, (Y/n) began to maneuver the cart containing KK towards Ice's location. The wheels squeaked in protest against the linoleum floor, the rhythmic sound echoing in the bustling store. Despite her being a D1 athlete, she found herself growing weary of playing the role of chauffeur for her friend. Yet, as she glanced at KK’s expectant expression, she knew there was no escaping it.
“Ice Brady," KK sang, her arms outstretched in a theatrical gesture as the cart rolled to a stop. The spectacle drew the attention of nearby shoppers, who paused to witness the unfolding scene, transfixed by the unexpected drama. "Would you care for some assistance today?"
Ice, caught off guard by the flamboyant greeting, turned her attention from the bags of chips to KK's infectious smile. Amusement danced in her eyes as she surveyed the scene before her. With a nod of acknowledgment to (Y/n), who was still navigating the cart into a suitable parking spot, Ice responded, "I mean, if you hopped out of the cart, I could put my stuff in, but I wouldn’t want to trouble your highness."
“Oh!” KK’s hands came together in childish glee, pleased by Ice’s answer, “How considerate of you, but it's alright, I’ve been feeling courteous today.”
“So now you’re feeling ‘courteous’?” (Y/n) deadpanned as she made her way around the shopping cart across from Ice. As KK made her stellar attempt to climb out of the cart gracefully, (Y/n) stood behind her to help lift her out, “I’ve literally been pushing you around all morning, babes.” 
She then made her way over toward ice to give assistance with the various chip bags enough to feed a family for christmas dinner. 
“So,” KK started her smile towards Ice, selectively choosing to ignore her roommate’s comment “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”
“Y’know, working had to feed the kids, and all that. You guys sure eat a lot” 
“Wait,” KK gaped, “This is all for us?”
“Have you checked the group chat?” Ice questioned. In fact, they had not. Though she had been added days prior, (Y/n) had decided to keep her distance from that group chat. The two girls turned to look at each other, proceeded by KK quickly checking her phone.
Soon enough, her eyes ignited from within. “Hell yeah, party time,” she sang.
“K, you’re being dramatic, it’s literally just the team,” Ice laughed.
“Theres a hangout tonight?” (Y/n) questioned, her stomach forming knots at the thought of being in a room with all of the UConn Women’s Basketball team.
“Yup, everyone, including you two, are coming over."
(Y/n) glanced between KK and Ice, her expression shifting to one of mild apprehension. "Do I have a choice?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of resignation.
Both KK and Ice exchanged a knowing look before simultaneously replying, "Nope."
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6:15 pm
During her first official collegiate-level game freshman year, (Y/n) led her team to a resounding victory, later that night earning her the coveted title of 'The People’s Princess' of the NCAA.
Beneath the blaring lights of the stadium, (Y/n) was radiant. It was a moment she had long envisioned, the culmination of years of relentless dedication and unwavering determination. With her eyes gleaming and her words flowing with confidence, she effortlessly captivated the reporter and everyone in attendance. Her presence seemed to cast a spell over the crowd, drawing them in with her infectious smile and undeniable talent.
In the weeks that followed, (Y/n)'s reputation soared to new heights. However, amidst the high, a subtle unease began to gnaw at her. She quickly realized that the pedestal on which she had been placed came with its own set of challenges.
Despite her remarkable achievements on the court, she found herself confined by the weight of expectations. The public's perception of her became increasingly polarized, with praise often overshadowed by harsh criticism. She was both celebrated and scrutinized for her gentle demeanour, her commanding presence, and even her choice of attire.
The constant contrast between adoration and disdain left her feeling unsettled, she was constantly walking on a tightrope between two worlds. Over time, she became acutely aware of the need to separate her on-court persona from her everyday life, a process that had equally drained but benefited her.
Yet, as she immersed herself deeper into the complexities of her newfound fame, (Y/n) couldn't shake the nagging feeling that appearance had become everything.  In a world where perception was predominant, she grappled with the notion that her worth was measured not by her character or accomplishments, but by the image she projected to the world.
All this to say that unfortunately, (Y/n) had been second-guessing tonight’s event over and over again.  Only two individuals had truly seen beyond the facade she meticulously maintained: KK and, in a distant past, Paige.
As (Y/n)'s life flashed before her eyes, her gaze fixed on the door before her, its weathered surface worn by years of use. The soft hum of chatter from beyond the door drifted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of pizza and anticipation that hung in the hallway. Each groove in the wood seemed to whisper secrets, a silent witness to her inner turmoil.
She took a deep breath, her fingers tracing the edges of the doorframe. The cool touch of the wood against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, a tangible reminder of the reality awaiting her on the other side. What would they think of her? Did she look presentable enough? Doubts gnawed at her confidence, threatening to unravel the facade she had carefully constructed.
With a steadying exhale, (Y/n) pushed open the door, crossing the threshold into the unknown. The soft click of the latch echoed in her ears, signaling her descent into the realm of uncertainty.
The scene unfolded before her, intimate and genuine, a tapestry woven with the bonds of teammates. The UConn Women’s Basketball team occupied every corner of Ice’s condo, their laughter mingling with the warmth of the confined space. Despite the inviting atmosphere, (Y/n) couldn’t shake the feeling of being an intruder in this vibrant gathering.
With each step forward, (Y/n) sensed the weight of her decision. The events of this evening would undoubtedly shape her relationship with the team for the rest of the year.
Luckily, no one had noticed her entrance yet. As (Y/n) scanned the room, she searched for KK among the multitude of bodies, most of them towering over her. Despite her efforts, KK remained elusive. Frustration etched her features as uncertainty gnawed at her. She caught her reflection in a nearby mirror, regarding herself with unease.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Lost in her inner turmoil, (Y/n) failed to notice the door behind her slowly swinging open.
As the door swung shut, the breeze proceeded to cause a shift among her hair. Shoving away all distractions, (Y/n) straightened her back, took a deep breath and prepared for her next step further into the house.
“You gonna move? Or do you need help, princess?” Paige's voice cut through the air, shattering (Y/n)'s concentration. All prior thoughts dissolved from her mind at those words, her focus instantly shifting to the unexpected encounter with Paige.
Despite the familiarity of seeing Paige's face plastered on banners around UConn, the proximity still rattled her. She had thought she'd grown accustomed to it, but the reality of facing Paige in person was an entirely different experience.
She had an image to maintain, (Y/n) wouldn’t shy away at simple words anymore.
With a subtle steeling of her resolve, she turned to face the taller girl, meeting Paige's gaze head-on. Though she found herself looking up at Paige, she refused to give any ground in their exchange.
The tension between them crackled in the air, each word laden with unspoken history and unresolved emotions. (Y/n)'s jaw tightened, but she refused to let Paige see any hint of vulnerability. She squared her shoulders and held Paige's gaze with unwavering determination.
"No need for assistance, thanks," (Y/n) replied evenly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil swirling inside her. "I can handle myself just fine."
Paige chuckled, taking a step closer to her. "Of course you can, Your Highness," she quipped, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "But it wouldn't hurt to let someone lend a hand every now and then."
(Y/n) bristled at the implication but forced herself to remain composed. "I'll keep that in mind," she replied curtly, stepping aside to let Paige pass.
Paige's lips quirked into a knowing smirk, but she didn't press the issue further. 
While Paige moved past her, (Y/n) couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that lingered in the air. Despite her best efforts to maintain her facade of confidence, there was a vulnerability in her interactions with Paige that she couldn't seem to shake.
As (Y/n) made her way further into the room, she found herself enveloped in a warm atmosphere. Smiles greeted her from every direction, genuine and welcoming, easing the tension that had knotted in her stomach.
“Damn, girl, I was just about to check if you had been kidnapped! What took you so long.” Exclaimed KK as she searched every inch of (Y/n). The younger girl’s gaze soon turned towards Paige suspiciously suddenly recounting the day prior, eyes snapping back and fourth. But then quieter KK added, “Hm, okay, I see, I see…”
A chorus of laughter bubbled up around them at KK’s dramatic statement, the sound infectious and light-hearted. (Y/n) couldn't help but smile in response, the weight of earlier uncertainties melting away in the warmth of their acceptance.
Any lingering tension between them dissipated in the face of the group's genuine warmth, replaced by a sense of belonging and shared purpose.
After making her rounds, (Y/n) went to sit by the couch, where a mini circle had formed as the team watched Azzi and Aubrey in their death match of Mario Cart. The room was filled with the rhythmic clicking of controllers and the occasional whoops and groans as players navigated their virtual karts through the colourful tracks. Azzi and Aubrey were locked in intense concentration, their eyes glued to the screen as they jostled for the lead. The competitive banter between them added to the lively atmosphere, punctuated by bursts of laughter and playful teasing from the rest of the team. (Y/n) leaned back, taking in the scene with a contented smile.
As the night progressed, (Y/n) found herself settling in, enjoying the easy connection of the team. Their genuine willingness to engage with her put her at ease, dispelling any lingering apprehension. After wrapping up a conversation with Ashlyn about her cats back at home, (Y/n) decided to take a brief respite. She excused herself and made her way to the kitchen, feeling a headache creeping in as result of the loud atmosphere. 
The cool touch of the glass along her fingers was well welcomed as (Y/n) took a sip of water. From her position in the kitchen, she had a comforting view of the apartment. As her gaze swept from Azzi and Aubrey fighting about wins and losses, to KK and Aaliyah filming their third tiktok of the night, her eyes landed on Paige. 
Obviously, people change as they grow up. Physically, Paige was taller. Her dark blond roots peaked out like a halo. But, the space between them seemed to grow as well. 
With a sigh, she turned to grab another sip of water. The kitchen, bathed in the soft glow of overhead lights, hummed with activity. The tiled floor gleamed underfoot, a testament to the cleanliness maintained in the shared space.
Unfortunately, right as she turned, she bumped into the one and only Nika Muhl.
“Oh, shit,” (Y/n) jumped, the water in her glass sloshing dangerously close to the brim.
Before she could react, the collision resulted in the water spilling on Nika, the droplets now flowing from Nika’s shirt onto the tiles below. (Y/n)'s heart sank at the sight
“I’m so sorry, let me help you,” she stammered, scrambling for a nearby towel, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Nika waved off (Y/n)'s apology with a chuckle, her easygoing demeanour putting her at ease. "Don’t worry about it, (Y/n). Accidents happen." Nika took the towel she offered and dabbed at her shirt, trying to contain the spill.
(Y/n) winced, feeling guilty. "I didn't mean to, I was just lost in thought."
Nika leaned against the counter, a small smile playing on her lips. "No harm done. Do you want to talk about whatever was on your mind?"
(Y/n) hesitated, not wanting to burden Nika with her concerns. But Nika's warm gaze encouraged her to speak up. "Yeah, I'm just trying to find my place with the team, you know? Sometimes it feels like I'm still the new kid."
Nika nodded in understanding, crossing her arms casually. "I get that. But trust me, (Y/n), you fit right in. Everyone likes you."
(Y/n) felt a warmth spread through her chest at Nika's words, and she couldn't help but blush. "Thanks, Nika. That means a lot."
Nika chuckled, nudging (Y/n) playfully. "Hey, don't mention it. And you know what? Even Paige couldn't stop talking about how excited she was when she found out you were joining."
(Y/n)'s eyes widened in surprise at the mention of Paige. "Really?"
Nika nodded, a knowing smile on her face. "Yep, really. It seems you’re quite the People’s Princess, (Y/n)."
Feeling a mix of emotions, (Y/n) leaned against the counter beside Nika, both of them watching the group outside the kitchen enjoying themselves. The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop to their conversation.
 However, (Y/n)'s attention was soon drawn to the sight of everyone getting up and preparing to leave. "Where is everyone going?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice.
Nika followed her gaze, her expression turning playful. "I guess it’s about that time now.” Nika then stood up to trail the team out of the apartment. “Team tradition."
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Now playing: white ferrari by frank ocean
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The night enveloped the surroundings in a tranquil embrace, casting a serene aura over the playground. The soft glow of the moon and stars illuminated the path ahead, casting gentle shadows on the playground equipment.
Amidst the laughter of her companions, (Y/n) found herself immersed in the peaceful ambiance of the night. As she followed behind the group, she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. The cool night air brushed against her skin, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass and distant city lights.
With each step, (Y/n) felt a weight lifting from her shoulders, replaced by a quiet sense of serenity. She took in the sight of her newfound teammates friends ahead, their silhouettes dancing against the night sky, and allowed herself to be relax the moment, grateful for the new joys she would encounter with this team.
As they made their way onto the playground, the flash of red and blue metal bars pierced the air, bringing back memories of a time when playing D1 basketball was just a distant dream.
Following close behind, (Y/n) ended her destination at a swing set that shone silver and gold against the night sky. The chains groaned in response of her weight, their link rattling together, forming a melody long forgotten. As her world slowly swung on an axis, (Y/n) couldn’t help but finally be at ease. 
As (Y/n) allowed herself to sink into the comforting rhythm of the swing, she became aware of a presence nearby. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted Paige making her way towards the swing set, her silhouette cutting through the darkness like a shadow. Despite the tension that often lingered between them, there was something oddly comforting about Paige's proximity in that moment. With a silent invitation, (Y/n) watched as Paige settled onto the swing beside her, the chains creaking softly in protest under their combined weight.
For a moment, there was only the soft whip of the wind that passed by (Y/n)’s ears, occasionally broken by the rattling chains and the laughter that drifted from the playground. Though things between the two girls were complicated, (Y/n) missed their time together. 
With a sigh, her eyes searched the distant lights above. Her mind filled in the blanks and connected the dots of the stars in the skies. Unbeknownst to (Y/n), Paige had been doing the same since she arrived.
“Ursa Major,” Paige murmured, the name of the constellation unintentionally slipping from her lips.
At the sudden break in the comforting silence, (Y/n) glanced over to her, giving her full attention. 
"Is it still your favorite?" Paige asked, her voice soft with genuine curiosity, her gaze falling to the side to find (Y/n)’s surprised expression within the darkness.
“Yeah,” (Y/n) spoke softly, her mind filled with the countless nights they searched the sky together. An unexplainable wave of yearning and sadness washed over her senses, “it is.”
Paige then turned her attention back to the sky above, all while (Y/n) was still processing the fact that she remembered her favourite constellation.
“You still remember?” (Y/n) asked, the question slipping from her mind out to the world before she could stop herself.
Paige felt her blood rush scarlet. “Yeah, you know… how could I forget?”
Paige’s answer stunned her. She assumed that since they parted ways, Paige would’ve also tried to erase the memories from her mind. For (Y/n), it had been too much to remember.
Paige's response  lingered in the air, the weight of its meaning hanging heavy between them.
Paige hesitated, her gaze searching (Y/n)'s face for any sign of recognition. "Do you ever miss it?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
(Y/n)'s heart skipped a beat at the question, her mind racing as she struggled to find the right words. "Miss what?" she replied, her voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft glow of the stars.
Paige's gaze softened. "Us," she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
A whirlwind of emotions swept through (Y/n) at Paige's question. Her chest tightened, and her breath caught in her throat. The weight of their shared history pressed down on her, threatening to overwhelm her fragile composure.
Yet, amid the turmoil of conflicting emotions, a flicker of longing ignited within her.
Everyday.
She wanted to respond.
I’ve never stopped missing us. 
She hadn’t expected such a question from Paige. Though she had been hoping, deep down, she knew that Paige might not have the same space for her in her world. After all, a sun doesn’t need a moon to survive.
Over time, their dynamic had shifted, revealing that (Y/n) relied more on Paige than the other way around. But those words brought into question whether (Y/n) had been wrong about them all along.
Her eyes swept to the side to meet Paige’s expectant gaze, her eyes reflecting the silver moonlight.
“Always.”
Neither Paige nor (Y/n) had been expecting the answer to be spoken. At the revelation, the corners of Paige’s lips curved into the slightest smile. 
As soon as the conversation started, silence drifted between them, The two girls drifted back into their quiet comfort. Only now, they both shared the same information. Possibilities of the upcoming sprung up into (Y/n)’s mind. Things would be different then she expected, but maybe that was a good thing.
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(Deleted scene)
“Nah, Paige is occupied at the moment,” KK laughed, her voice carrying over the chatter of the group. With a deft swing from the monkey bars, she landed next to Aaliyah, where her phone was propped up to capture their talents. As they continued their antics, the live chat exploded with questions about (Y/n) after the idea of getting Paige on the stream was quickly shut down.
“Damn,” Aaliyah murmured, her eyes scanning the flood of messages, “y’all really love her, don’t you?”
A chorus of affirmative responses flooded the chat. Meanwhile, Azzi's voice cut through the background noise, calling both Aaliyah and KK over to witness her latest feat on the monkey bars. With a shared grin, the two girls left their spot, drawn by Azzi's infectious energy.
In the darkness of the night, the bottom right corner of the screen was illuminated just enough to make ou two silhouettes together on a swing set. The descovery sparked a flurry of speculation in the chat. Messages scrolled rapidly as viewers attempted to decipher the identities of the mysterious figures. Within moments, messages began pouring out as Paige and (Y/n) were finally identified.
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(Y/n) and Paige: Sparks Fly on Live Stream
Fans were treated to an unexpected sight during teammate KK Arnold's recent live stream, as basketball stars (Y/n) (L/n) and Paige Bueckers made a joint appearance. Their presence together immediately set social media abuzz, with fans reigniting dating rumors that have followed the pair for years. Despite both athletes maintaining silence on the matter, the resurgence of speculation has divided fans, with some eagerly shipping the duo while others advocate for their privacy. As (Y/n) and Paige continue to focus on their careers, fans remain captivated by the possibility of a romantic connection between the two athletes.
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a/n: yuhh chapter two done! sorry for the wait, it's been a tough week lmao! anyways, im begging you PLEASE LISTEN TO WHITE FERRARI WHILE READING THE NIGHT SCENE ITS SO GOOD
anyways, thanks for all the love and support you guys are the best, loving all the comments <333
also for future chapters, does anyone live in seattle? cuz mc is gonna be from there and i need a highschool that was good at basketball or just one in general. LOVE YALL SO MUCH SEE YOU NEXT TIME
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taglist: @kenzie-luvzz , @juphey , @h34rtsformilli , @pinkandlilacroses , @i-bribri-i , @thatonemarvelfan03 , @girlokwhatever , @ihrtthotdads , @kc88888888 , @nfleditsrjustbetteridk , @imsobabygiirl , @vi0lentb3rry , @sejus-wife , @katemlk , @littlelesbianinternujung , @ktaerssoi , @evangelinexo , @c999sh
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